#gonna develope this into a proper fic tomorrow

[ma-chi1993]

sorry for hijacking, the muse strked.

"Junho?"

"Yes?" Junho sits up from on the sofa and looks at the entrance: there stands his brother, casually dressed - quite a rare sight - and with the jacket in hand, hair strategically falling on his eyes, smelling of his most expensive cologne.

"I'm going to get something to drink with Gihun-hyung," he says while wearing his shoes, "Remember to empty the dishwasher."

Junho grins: "Alright, have fun on your date."

"It's not a date," Inho clarifies for the nth time, glaring at him, "We just hang out after work."

"It's gonna be just you two? Like the past dozen 'hanging outs' right?"

"We just hang out after work," he repeats, looking at his reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall near the entrance and fixing a strand of hair.

Junho grins sharpens: "So I can come right?"

Inho pauses: "Mh?"

"If it's just 'hanging out' I can come too, it's been a while since I've been out with friends, and I like Gihun-hyung's company," he argues, a shiver running down his spine at the look Inho gives him.

"No," it's all he says before wearing the jacket.

"You're no fun hyung," Junho pouts, "Everyone knows you guys are having a thing, why pretend to hide it? Plus Gihun-hyung likes me, he would be happy to see me."

His brother doesn't even reply, he just shakes his head and opens the door, right when Mansool was going to insert the keys.

"Oh, Inho-ah, you are going out?" she asks, entering the house.

"I'm seeing a friend," he says as he takes the grocery bags from her hands and brings them inside, nodding at Junho to help him sorting them in the cupboard. Junho does so with no protest.

"Oh you must be in a hurry then," Mansool observes.

"I'll put these things away and go."

"Junho-ah, why don't you join Inho-ah? You are always holed up in here when you are not working."

"Yeah, hyung, why don't I join you?" Junho repeats, smiling like a fox at his brother's glare.

After they are done putting the groceries away, Mansool retires to her room to watch a drama.

"Alright, remember about the dishwasher, I'm going on a d- I'm going!" Inho says as he walks to the door.

"But hyung," Junho can barely repress his laughter, "Mon said I can come."

Inho stops, turns, marches back to his brother and uses his most intimidating glare to compensate the ridiculous height difference between them.

"Hwang Junho," he hisses so that Mansool couldn't hear them, "You are not coming to my fucking date!"

"Shalalalala, My, oh, my, Look at the boy too shy, He ain't gonna kiss the girl," sings the radio in the small restaurant, and Junho happily hums along while eating his own kimchi fried rice.

"Is it good Junho-ah?"

"One of the best ones I've ever had hyung!" he replies, eating with pure gusto.

Gihun smiles, pleased, and turns to his right: "What about you Inho-ah?"

Inho grumbles something, expression sour, head resting on one hand while the other uses the chopsticks to play with his rice.

Gihun takes pity on him and gently touches his leg: "Inho-ah, I said I have no problem paying also for Junho-ah. C'mon, give me a smile."

"Yeah hyung, give Gihun-hyung a smile," Junho prompts him, smug only like someone that knows that his older brother is not going to do anything since they are in public and in the presence of his beloved could be.

Inho just glares at him and kick his shin under the table.

Idea that I got from that one tiktok sound

In-ho: I'll be back at six, I'm going on a date

Jun-ho: Wait, mom said I can come!

In-ho: You're not coming to my fucking date!

*cuts to In-ho and Gi-hun on a date, with Jun-ho sitting across from them*

[bonesandthebees]

So chapter 26. 20/10. No notes. Loved the back and forth between flashbacks. THE FUCKING TATTTOO! The palace is making my skin crawl. I will have a field day analysis if all this character development. BUT MOST IMPORTANTLY [“Nah. You just look like my dumbass brother wearing stupid clothes.”] WHAT IF I JUST AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

also, this chapter was waaaaaaaaaayyyyyyy too wholesome. There’s already smoke. Wilbur and Tommy are together and I am scared. Time for my, the smoke is gonna fuck up Tommy’s lungs and he somehow ends up in the water with Wilbur diving after him theory. You made them have a wholesome brother moment, now they must suffer.

Anyway, time to try and read Under The Hanging Rose in 50 minutes. Wish me luck. Also do was just call it Roses still or is there a different name? Also, yeay for Phil NOT knowing about the announcement and sires heir Tommy (though I’ll need to read it to be sure about the heir part, it could just be a possible heir).

Bye, I might be back to scream more and we’ll get proper screaming tomorrow (it’s fine, I already screamed about Glass today, have fun with those asks when you get around to them)

-🌲

TYYYY so glad you guys liked the back and forth flashbacks I had a lot of fun with that format

I knew you were gonna have a field day with all the character development stuff that happens in this chapter spruce

that line made me so happy to write you have no idea

heh... yeahhhh... this chapter was very wholesome given the situation they're now in... that vision is going to happen it's just a matter of how it's gonna happen :))

yes you can still call it roses! ngl I got so used to referring to the series as rose/roses in my head bc of roses of childhood that when i was trying to pick out a title for the main fic i was trying so hard to find something related to the word 'rose'. so while i'm probably going to abbreviate it to just rose (rose!wilbur for example) you can call it roses that's fine too

cannot wait to see your screaming :))

[saucerfulofsins]

#fic where kaner suddenly develops the ability to read minds #and then finds out the captain’s horny for him… just so you know, I would read totally read that if you’re so inclined 👀

You know what, I was gonna treat this as a prompt, had this whole bit typed out on how I don't know if I'll have the time or energy, but honestly... I dunno what the fuck I have to do with my evenings anyway, I love this far too much, so instead have the little (entirely unedited, sorry) excerpt I wrote before deciding that I wanna think about this some more and make a proper/full(er) length fic out of this.

-

He grits his teeth and gets back onto his feet.

The onslaught of thoughts—they’re thoughts, and he’s not going crazy, because he shouldn’t have known where that puck went—continues as an assault. He’s glad they’re at the UC for practise because he wouldn’t have been able to deal with an audience on top of everything else.

Patrick suppresses the urge to cover his ears. He doubts it would work anyway. Instead he focuses on his breathing, tries to let the constant stream of hockeypuckshockeyskatespaininjurypuckpuckhockeystickwifehockeychildrenkeptmeupallnight bleed into the background, the way conversation does in a coffee shop.

It barely works, and staying upright remains difficult. He’s pretty sure it is because thoughts are interfering with his balance, twenty guys’ subconscious adjusting to twenty different weights all the fucking time.

He stumbles off the ice, makes it back to the bathrooms—sweet fucking silence—and promptly throws up.

-

Jonny finds him there, sitting on the floor still in full gear.

He’s worried. Patrick would’ve been able to tell anyway, from his expression and disgruntled huff and the way he kneels beside Patrick, but he – senses it, now, too. He’s getting images of himself lying on the floor, passed out, maybe worse; all awful, enough to let his stomach churn again.

“I’m fine,” he tells Jonny.

“You’re—” Jonny starts, cutting himself off when Pat shakes his head. Sick, he senses, you puked, you can’t be okay. You’re never sick like this. Something’s wrong.

The intensity of Jon’s mind catches him off-guard, although perhaps it shouldn’t. Captain Serious, got his name for a reason, all that jazz. Patrick half-heartedly attempts a smile and wonders if he should tell Jonny.

Doctor? Hospital? Calm down, calm down, he needs you.

Tazer’s still staring at him. He’s looking a lot calmer than he’s letting on, Patrick realizes. Still, one person’s thoughts, even if they’re Jonny’s and probably count for three average hockey players, are much more manageable.

“I think I ate something wrong last night,” he tells Jonny. “I’ll be fine, I just need to head home and sleep it off?” Hopefully this is just some weird quirk, a fluke of the universe, something he can sleep off.

He’s fine? He’s fine, good, thank shit, gotta make sure he’s fine.

“Text me once you’re there, okay?” Jonny asks.

Patrick nods. “Don’t worry, I will.”

Jonny pats his back and gets up before reaching out to help Patrick up too. “I gotta get back to the guys. Feel better and see ya tomorrow.” Stay safe, I love you.

Patrick’s halfway through untying his skates before he wonders if that was weird—and then dismisses it, because Jonny is weird and probably thinks that way about everyone.

[natashxromanovf]

The Golden Years

Peter Parker × gn!reader

WORD COUNT: 537

WARNINGS: I don’t think there are any

REQUESTED: {x} by @dreamcxtcherr, fluff

SUMMARY: The usual walk home turns into a fun adventure.

A/N: Thank you for the request, Lena! I think I lost the ability to write proper fics because I wrote so many of those dialogues so sorry if this sucks. The requested prompt is in bold.

*gif not mine, credits to whoever made it*

Walking home from school with Peter is already like a tradition by now. It’s always the same; wait for each other and go home together. It’s a lovely habit and now that your friendship developed into something more, it’s even better to talk about everything and more on the way to the apartment.

Today is no different - walking down the streets, hand in hand with your boyfriend, talking about today’s drama that by no surprise, Flash caused. The atmosphere is quite chilly, making you shiver a little. Peter doesn’t notice your body slightly shaking, deep in his thoughts while he talks and talks without breathing in between. You love that about him, mostly because him rambling is better than walking in awkward silence.

“... and then they started making fun out of Ned so I had to do something. That’s why I got detention.” he finishes, a disgusting look evident on your face.

“They made fun of Ned?! I’m gonna have to have a serious talk with Flash tomorrow.” you threaten, your eyes looking straight ahead as a murderous look replaces the previously disgusted one.

“Easy there Y/N,” Peter jokes, speaking a line he often uses looking at a fact that you seem to threaten people a lot. It’s not that you get angry a lot but if someone makes fun of your friends? They better be sure they’re gonna pay for it.

“Yeah, sorry. I just hate when people bully my friends,”

“Me too,” he smiles, pressing a sweet kiss against your temple. Right at that moment, you shiver again, more violently this time as a breeze passes by you. “Baby are you cold? Here, take my jacket,”

“Thank you,”

“Of course,” Peter replies, dropping the jacket onto your shoulders, pulling you in his arms for even more warmness. This is one of the many things you love about him - he doesn’t care if he’s cold or if he’s in danger, all that matters is that you’re safe. This trait of his can be a pain in the arse sometimes but it’s still heartwarming to see someone care about you so much; it makes your heart fill with love and happiness, the kind that every human being should have the privilege of experiencing.

A couple of minutes later you’re almost home, about to turn the corner when something cold and wet falls onto your nose. You blink a couple of times before another drop makes contact with your skin. Registering what’s about to happen you try to find some sort of roof but there’s rain already pouring down your body, every single piece of clothing as soaked as it can get. Accepting the feeling, you realize it’s actually pretty fun standing outside in the rain, bringing out the inner child in you. You spin around, arms as far away from your torso as possible, bringing Peter in with you. He just laughs, giving in to your convincing, picking you up bride style, spinning around with you in his arms. It’s the most fun both of you had in months, the exams and life, in general, taking their toll on you, often forgetting that you’re still teenagers. Because teenage years are the golden years, right?

General taglist: @maybanksslut @sprucewoodlover @potterheadphanatic-blog @artxemqs

Marvel taglist: @voidmalfoy @crazy-beautiful @cunningambitousdetermined @pad-foots @scintillatea @sexysirius @rorybutnotgilmore @kimoralov3 @msfandomfreak @johnmurphyisqueer @dreamcxtcherr @griffxnnage @xxromanoffxx

Peter Parker: @romqnticizer @mollysolo @peggycarter-steverogers @youreso-golden

Feedback is very much appreciated <3

If you wanna be added to my taglist, here's the link :)

[silksandcravats]

Can I request a fic where reader works with Flip and they go out to a bar after work together but the reader gets drunk and just tells flip how much of a crush they've got on him? (absolutely not based on the fact I did this last night with a close friend lmao help)

A/N: This is such a cute idea! I’m so sorry for how long it took me to answer this but I hope you enjoy! ps hope the confession went well! 

masterlist

Warnings: none that I’m aware of :)

It was rather crowded and rather noisy in the bar, although admittedly not half as bad as you had expected for a Friday night. The original plan had been for the whole department to go out together, to celebrate the closing of one hell of a case. You had been especially excited, given that it was the first big case that you had really been allowed to help out on. But one by one, they had all given their own excuses and it turned out you and Flip were the only two without plans on a Friday night under such short notice. 

‘’So,” you taking another sip from your second… or sixth cocktail, you had arrived at the bar before Flip, and in an effort to offset a potentially awkward evening, you had begun drinking like a madwoman. “They gonna bump you down the food chain now that you’ve been beaten out by a rookie?”

“Don’t go getting a big head, one solved case doesn’t make you a pro.” he rolled his eyes, casually working through his third beer. It was safe to say he was a lot less drunk than you.

“Oh come on,” you groaned, “Would it be so hard to admit I did a good job?”

“You did good rookie, you did good.” 

“Thank you.” you grinned in response, looking away. 

That was the second time tonight he had complimented you tonight. The first had been when he came in to see you sitting by yourself in a pretty little sundress that just happened to be in his favorite color. He couldn’t help but tell you how pretty you looked as he came to sit down next to you. Your cheeks had gone pink, but you quietly thanked him before quickly trying to change the subject, telling yourself he was just being polite, that’s all.

Flip tried to catch up with you as the night went on, but it soon became clear that he could take a lot more drink than you, and the drinks you had downed in rapid fashion before Flip showed up came back to bite you. It was until you giggled so hard at something he had said and practically slid off the chair that he stepped in. 

“Just water for her.” He said, intercepting your attempt to order another drink. You whip your head, furrowing your brows at him.

“You’re annoying.” you did your best not to slur. He let out a hum in response, amused at your sudden change in mood. He nodded as thanks to the bartender who had just sat your water down, then pushed the glass directly in front of you.

“Drink,” he commanded you, taking another sip from his own beer.

“You’re also bossy.” you continued, but opted to be compliant, wrapping your lips around the straw, soothing a thirst you hadn’t realised you’d developed. “I guess it’s a good thing I like you huh?” you added between sips. This time your words elicited a bigger response. Flip’s eyes went wide and he nearly choked on his drink, turning to look at you.

“y/n you don’t mean that.” He said quickly, but wasn’t clear which of you he was trying to convince.

“Oh calm down detective,” you giggled, swirling your straw, “I already know you don’t like me back. It’s no big deal.”

“Now what makes you say that?” he says, frowning at you.

“I mean you’ve made it pretty obvious.” you shrug, staring at the gloss that was chipping off the edges of the wooden bar. “I dropped plenty of hints for a while, learned how you like your coffee, left mugs on your desk for you all the time, got really close to you when we were both looking at a file, that kind of thing. One of the girls up front would always poke at me for making it too obvious, but you never said anything.” 

Flip half expected glossy eyes when you finally looked up at him, but for some reason your casual face and sense of indifference towards the situation actually made him sadder. You had already made up your mind he doesn’t like you back and you’d come to terms with it. Of course he noticed how you acted around him, but he was busy spending all his time convincing himself you didn’t really mean anything by it. After all, don’t you always notice all the little things about a person when you’ve got a crush?

“I think the booze is making you say things you don’t mean sweetheart.” He joked softly, trying to lighten the situation.

“Not really.” you hummed, “I’m sure I’ll wake up tomorrow regretting spilling my guts to you but that doesn’t mean I don’t mean it. Drunk words, sober thoughts y’know.”

“I don’t think you’ll regret it.” He mused. Your lipstick had began to smear across your face sightless from the way you had sloppily missed your straw a few times, but you were so drunk you didn’t seem to realise. So Flip took care of it, folding over the napkin his drink had been sitting on and dipping the corner into your water. His free hand moved to your jaw, fingers nearly reaching the back of your neck, and moving your pretty face up slightly so he could dab away the color before it could stain. You look at him with big eyes, still confused by his words, but don’t ask about it.

-----

You woke up the next morning to the phone ringing. Morning wasn’t the right word, seeing as it was nearly one in the afternoon. Your head was pounding and you groaned rolling over, covering your ears with a pillow, ready to just let it ring. When the offensive noise finally ceased you flopped onto your back again and a strange sense of remorse started to pool in your stomach, if only you could remember why…

Your thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing again. This time you conceded, grumbling as you moved the edge of the bed, pulling yourself to the edge of the bed and picking up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Morning sleeping beauty, how’s the hangover?” The sound of his voice brought a smile on your face as you twirled the phone cord around your fingers mindlessly. Suddenly happy for the wakeup call.

“Flip! Funny you called, I was just wondering, do you have any idea how I got home last night?” 

He laughed softly at your lack of memory regarding last night’s events before he answered. Flip went on to explain everything from the night before, how you had gone a little hard on the drinking and eventually when the bar closed he had taken you home, he intentionally left out your little confession, wanting to keep that to himself. Once you were up to speed he then went on to ask you out on a proper date that night, even going as far as to ask you to wear the same pretty dress from the night before. 

[ahiddenpath]

Puits D’Amour Sneak Peek

Puits D’Amour (a suggestive French pastry, well of love) is my upcoming Sorato royalty/bakery + coffeeshop AU that keeps threatening to expand out of control.  You can read the initial blurb here.  I’ve been developing it more, and I wanna blab about it beneath the cut.

So the basic premise is that Yamato’s father is the king of not-Japan, and his mother was a princess of not-France, now the queen of not-Japan.  They married to solidify peace between the warring countries, and they had two kids: Yamato, crown prince, and his younger brother, Takeru.

The brothers spent a lot of time in not-France as a sign of goodwill, but as Yamato grows older, his presence is required in not-Japan, where he will one day rule.  This is not good news to our boy, who would frankly rather be a normal guy in not-France, sipping coffee on walks in the country side and studying.  Tough luck, dude D:

His return to not-Japan becomes a public spectacle, much to his dismay.  Yamato ducks into an alley to escape the press, opens the first door he finds, and steps into the kitchen of a bakery, where he finds a young woman making delicacies from his childhood...

It started out so simple, but I keep finding myself thinking...  Yamato needs someone to talk to on his trip!  How about Jyou, a third-born son of an aristocratic family of doctors, who wants to help the community, but doesn’t have the stomach for medical procedures?  He’s Yamato’s childhood friend, and utilizes his medical knowledge, planning/organization skills, and connections to make sure local doctors and hospitals have the needed supplies and information wherever Yamato travels.  He knows he’s riding Yamato’s coattails- “the prince’s personal doctor/medical organizer” isn’t really a job- but the truth is, he does good work.  And who else is going to remind Yamato to smile and try to keep his cool during horrible royal events?  

And, naturally, a bakery can’t be run by one person, no matter how skilled.  Sora needs employees, like Mimi, her star bakery cashier/waitress!  Mimi practically runs the city’s gossip mill, especially among the students of the nearby college, and draws business with her looks, her conversation skills, and her bright personality.

Of course, I want a tight story- but suddenly, l realize that Taichi could make coffee and serve food, Hikari could sell flowers and help bake...  I could even throw Eimi in, baking when Sora practices ikebana with her mother, and Koushiro as a customer (who is occasionally roped into helping out- I love the image of Taichi just walking up to him and throwing an apron over him when they’re slammed).

And, of course, all of my fics have a theme.  I’ve decided that, for Puits D’Amor, I want to explore the concept of taking care of yourself today, even while you plan for tomorrow.  That’s something I really struggle with, pinning my efforts and energy on future goals at the cost of today’s happiness.  Obviously, working for a good future is amazing, but all we have for sure is today.  This message is championed by Sora, who runs her dream bakery, even while planning to carry on her mother’s ikebana school someday.

I’m already dying at the thought of Yamato as a prince- he’d be so unequipped for it, lord.  And then I catch myself wondering- bakery, royalty, coffee, flower shop?  Just what kind of nesting doll/AU Frankenstein am I trying to make, here?  And by the time I introduce all these characters it’s gonna be a proper novel.  Maybe I should, um, try to trim it back while I still can?  

I have no idea when I’ll start it!  Or how it will actually go!  I feel like all I’m really doing is gripping the feeling of comfort in a bakery run by lovely people: good food, hot drinks, good company.  More appealing than ever, with... You know, everything.

Anyway, does this even sound interesting?  Maybe I’m getting swept up in them cozy feels?  What do you think, would you read it?

[lem-20]

Frustrations

Summary: Frustrated that Ethan won't let their relationship develop, will MC find some time alone with Bryce too much of a temptation? Rewrite of Bk 1 Ch 11 Bryce scene.

Book/Pairing: Open Heart/Bryce x MC / Ethan x MC (Cecilia Gibson)

Category/Rating: Smut/Explicit

Word Count: 1.7k

Authors notes: I thought I'd try something a bit different for this fic. I had an idea in mind, but I'm not sure if it has come out as I'd hoped 🤣

I have included this weeks @wackydrabbles prompt Hold still

Also inspired by @choicesmonthlychallenge prompt Day 18: Waiting

Characters and some dialogue owned by pixelberry

Cecilia never meant to fall for Ethan Ramsey.

She had always admired his work and had been hugely inspired by him, but a romantic relationship wasn't something that had ever crossed her mind - she hadn't even known what he looked like before her first day at Edenbrook.

When she first met him his condescending behaviour had actually led her to think that he was a bit of an asshole - admittedly she didn't realise it was him at that point, but he definitely hadn't left a good first impression.

It didn't take long for her opinion of him to change though. Working together when Dolores came in and then trying to help Naveen had brought them much closer together than either of them could have imagined. What was blossoming between them certainly wasn't a normal attending/intern relationship.

When they finally kissed in Miami, she'd hoped that it would be the start of something between them. They had got so close to ending up in bed together—something she had been fantasising about for some time—but Ethan had stopped things going any further and she had been feeling frustrated ever since.

A few days after returning from Miami, she had questioned Ethan about what was happening between them.

"Be honest...about us," she said.

"I'm...not sure what you mean," he replied, avoiding her eyes.

"I think you know exactly what I mean."

He turned his back to her and she walked up close behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Please Cecilia, this is hard enough already."

"Then why keep fighting it? We both want this. We both feel this. It almost seems inevitable..."

He turned to her, his eyes filled with longing...and pain.

Reaching up, he gently stroked her cheek. "We're doctors, Cecilia. Fighting the inevitable is our job description."

Without another word he walked past her and out of the lab. She hung her head—her heart sinking—as the sound of his footsteps faded away.

She couldn't deny the hurt she felt. Even though part of her understood his reasoning, she couldn't just pretend there wasn't a connection between them.

---

Several nights later Cecilia was at home in her apartment researching Rhodes disease for Mrs Martinez. Her friends had volunteered to help and several hours had passed when her reading was interrupted by snoring. She looked up to see that everyone had fallen asleep, except for Bryce.

"And then there were two," he smiled before looking back down at his research. "Wait a second...Cecilia, come look at this."

"What'd you find?" she asked, taking a seat next to him.

"Wound up on a message board. Looks like a pissed off employee leaked some old R&D memos from Panacea Labs...Check it out. It says a drug used for Huntington's cured some test subjects of Rhodes disease."

"If they've found a cure...why isn't it on the market?"

"This is pretty recent...Human trails can take years before a new drug gets F.D.A approval."

"Bryce, you found the answer!" Overwhelmed with excitement, she threw her arms around him and he hugged her back tightly.

The hug lingered and she feel reluctant to let go of him...

"I dunno about you, but I feel like celebrating," he whispered.

She looked into his eager eyes, knowing exactly how he wanted to celebrate.

If she went along with this she knew she may end up regretting it. Her feelings for Ethan were undeniable and there was definitely more to it than just a sexual attraction. But their interactions over the past few weeks had left her so confused and sexually frustrated that she was seriously considering taking Bryce up on his offer. She didn't know if Ethan would even allow anything to happen between them in the future and she couldn't wait around for him forever.

It wasn't as though Bryce was a random stranger. He was a good guy...kind...sexy. They had already been physical with each other before—after her housewarming party—so she knew he could definitely help release some of her frustrations there and then.

She gave him a smirk as she made her decision.

She grabbed Bryce's hand and led him to the bathroom. They bumped hard into the door as she pulled him in for a passionate kiss.

"Shh, don't wake the others up."

"I'm not the one you're gonna have to worry about," he teased.

He pinned her against the closed bathroom door and kissed her, while she pulled off his shirt.

His strong hands roamed her body, gliding under her clothes, trying to feel every part of her.

"Pent up much?"

"I'm always pent up when I see you," he replied.

She could feel the blush reaching her cheeks.

"Before we go any further, you should know...we have to keep this casual."

She knew this probably didn't need to be said, Bryce was a casual sort of guy, but she didn't need any extra drama in her life right now.

"No strings...fine by me," he grinned, pulling her clothes over her head.

She kissed up his neck and across his smooth jawline as she undid his trousers and pushed them to the ground.

She snapped the band of his underwear with a cheeky smile before sliding her hands beneath the fabric.

"I really don't need to keep those on," he whispered.

She kissed his chest as she slid his underpants down, her fingers brushing against him.

"Agreed..."

The sight of him standing to attention for her was a massive turn on.

She kissed him again as she took hold of him, enjoying the way his breath stopped and started as she pumped his length.

"Who has magic hands now?"

"You're giving me a run for my money," he replied before pulling her bra down and kissing and licking his way across her breasts.

A moan was the only sound she could make as a shiver ran throughout her entire body.

"How 'bout we have some good clean fun," he said pushing her backwards, guiding her toward the shower.

She turned to step in.

"Wait, hold still, "he grabbed her hand to stop her. "Before we get in, I want to get a proper look at you."

He spun her back to face him, before looking her up and down—eyes filled with lust.

"You're gorgeous," he stated while flashing her a grin.

She couldn't help but giggle. "You're quite the charmer Lahela."

Continuing into the shower, Bryce gently pushed her against the shower wall, turning on the tap. Warm water poured down on them as he kissed her, his hands exploring her body.

She returned the favour, running her hands over his slippery muscles.

Bryce reached between her legs and began to move his fingers, slowly but surely. She let out a moan.

"I told you I wasn't the one you had to worry about making noise..."

"I don't think I care anymore..."

She leaned her head against the shower wall and sighed as Bryce's hands worked their magic, circling round her most sensitive part. His lips traced across her collarbone as he dipped a finger inside her.

Her breathing grew heavier as he added another finger.

"Bryce...I need more..."

He gripped her by the back of the thighs and lifted her, pinning her high against the cold tiles.

She sighed with pleasure as she wrapped her legs around his waist and he slid himself inside her.

A whisper of guilt flickered across her mind, but it was too late to take it back now, this was happening and she wanted to enjoy it. It felt too good not to.

She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing any doubts out of her head. Instead concentrating on the sensations, the pleasure.

Bryce moved his lips down her neck, softly sucking and kissing as he went.

For a brief moment her mind took her back to Miami where it was Ethan's lips on her neck, his stubble gently scratching her sensitive skin. She remembered the taste of wine on his tongue as his mouth crashed into hers.

She lifted a hand up and ran it through Bryce's hair, gripping tightly as her pleasure started to build.

He plunged himself deep inside her over and over again and she moved her hand down to his chest, feeling his heart thundering as she neared her climax. Her fingernails clawed into his back as she lost control.

"Yes Eth—, Bryce."

Fuck.

She clung on to him, breathing heavily as he thrust a few more times, until he got his own release.

As she came down from her high she cringed as she recalled the fact she had started calling out Ethan's name while having sex with someone else.

She slowly opened her eyes and looked at Bryce. He smiled at her and kissed her on the lips.

"That was amazing," he said.

"Yeah, it was," she replied through her heavy breathing.

Somehow she seemed to have got away with her slip up. Either he was too wrapped up in the moment to notice or he had decided not to mention it. Either way, she was extremely relieved.

He lowered her back down to the ground and they held each other close for a moment before getting dressed.

Bryce looked at the time, it was 2am.

"I'd better head home if I'm going to get any sleep before work tomorrow."

She grabbed his arm.

"You don't have to go, you could sleep here tonight."

He gave her a little smirk. "I think if I stayed here, you would prove to be way too distracting for either of us to get any sleep."

They both laughed.

"Okay, I'll walk you to the door."

They threw their clothes back on before stepping out into the corridor, where they could talk without waking the others.

"Thank you for tonight Bryce. For the help with the research and the...other thing. I really needed that."

He smiled broadly at her.

"Anytime, Gibson. And I mean it. Any time you need a special release, I'm there. Supply closet, on call room, gym, shower, locker room, your place, my place..."

"Yeah, okay Bryce," she chuckled, playfully pushing him away. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight Sien—, I mean Cecilia."

She tilted her head quizzically and he winked at her before turning to leave. Her eyes widened suddenly with realisation that she hadn't got away with her slip up after all.

Although she felt her face burn with embarrassment, she couldn't help but giggle to herself as she watched him walk down the corridor, before disappearing out of sight.

***

Next part (What is this?)

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Thank you so much for reading, I really appreciate everyone who takes the time to like, comment and reblog 🥰

***

I only tag those who ask, so please feel free to let me know if you would like to be added to my list 😃

[namluve]

you had always been a part of the plastics and he was born on the wrong side of town. what happens when your worlds collide, and you realize that he is the only one in your life that’s not fake? 

paring: jungkook x reader

genre: 90′s AU, high school AU (both are 18), fwb to lovers, smut, fluff, angst

rating: mature, 18+

warnings: explicit language, jungkook has an alcoholic abusive father, alcohol consumption, switch!jungkook, switch!reader, sub/dom themes, noona kink, protected sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral f receiving, face sitting, praise, blindfolding, dirty talk, manhandling, slight degradation, miscommunication that leads to lowkey unhealthy relationship

word count: 13k

note: first of all, I would like to thank @spicykoreantatertots​ for helping me with developing and editing this story. I can’t thank Hannah enough for all her help. secondly, I want to thank @joopiterjoon​ for always supporting me and helping me, especially with this fic. can’t wait to share the sequel once it’s done as well!

11 November 1991

Walking down the school’s hallway you sigh as you approach your group of friends. The four girls wave at you as you approach them. You smile quickly at them, thinking about the day you would have with them. Talk about boys. Complain about your parents. Discuss the latest fashion and of course, find some kind of way to bully you without it being too obvious. Ask where you found those shoes, if you had any cake for dinner last night and if you actually went through with the workout the five of you were supposed to do. Yep, just another day in your life. Wishing the week could swish by so you could have some alone time by the weekend. 

Well, maybe not all alone you think as you see Jungkook leaning against his locker, talking with his two best friends Jimin and Taehyung. Jungkook is a piece of work but at least he is honest with you. All you were to him was a booty call at 1 AM and frankly, you would not have it any other way.

“Oh ‘____’, we were just discussing this week’s exercises. I expect this weekend went well for you since you never reached out to us?” Tiffany chippered and you smiled, you had to play your part.

“It was so much fun! Especially the crunches, they got easier every day!” You exclaim and your group of friends seem happy with your response. The bell rang, thankfully, and the five of you began walking to class. Oh, did you long for college, a way out of this hell hole of a town. Away from the plastic bitches that were supposed to be your friends. The only thing all of you had in common was being the daughters of wealthy families living in the same neighborhood. God, you wish you could just move away from them. Only ten months left and that would be your reality.

“I can’t believe how you go by your days without having an alcohol problem.” You knew exactly what Jungkook was referring to, if anyone hated your friends equally as much as you, it was Jungkook.

“I feel like I’m soon gonna have to start day drinking,” you say, joining Jungkook, leaning against the wall with him. Meeting him outside after school hours was a common thing between the two of you. No one was around, besides the nerds in the library but it was not like they would tell anyone about the two of you meeting. 

“Let me know if you do, could need a drink myself,” you always appreciated Jungkook’s honesty, how he never once bullshitted you, no matter how ugly the truth was.

“Your dad?” He nodded at your question, sighing as he extinguished the cigarette in his hand on the wall that his back rested on. He knew he did not have to say anything else. You knew about his abusing father and he appreciated how he never had to explain himself to you. You understood him.

“Isn’t he supposed to go on a business trip this week?” He smiled slightly at you. You had remembered what he said last time the two of you met.

“Yeah… but not until tomorrow. His plane leaves in the evening. So… I wanted to ask you for a favour.” Turning towards you, he leaned against the wall sideways, putting his head against the wall and looking at you with his bunny eyes.

“No. We nearly got caught the last time you spent the night at my place.”

“Come on. I promise we won’t get caught this time either. You weren’t exactly quiet baby, you know?” So… he is trying to pin it on you even though he was the one who started it all? Not on your watch.

“It wasn’t me who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.”

“Come on baby, I don’t wanna fight. I just want to spend the night at yours.” Stepping in front of you, Jungkook meets your gaze, looking at you lovingly, winning you over more every second. He knew you loved the nickname he had for you. Baby, it rolled so easily off his tongue and he knew the effect it had on you. Taking your hands in his he took a step closer, leaning his forehead against yours.

“I just want to sleep in your bed with you, my arms wrapped around you, your heat warming up my cold body. Your hair sprawled out on your pillow…” as Jungkook softly spoke to you, he gently pushed back your hair behind your ear before continuing, “your face in a pout as you sleep that I always wanna kiss away.” 

Jungkook’s words affected you more than you wanted, they always did. He always had you at the palm of his hand, wrapped around his finger.

“Ugh fine, but you have to sing me to sleep.” 

Leaning down he kissed you briefly, knowing the two of you were still out in public. “Anything for you.” Jungkook softly murmerd. 

Things like this made you wonder if there was something more than just sex between you and Jungkook. The two of you were not really exclusive and you knew he brought home different girls every week while you went on dates with guys your friends set you up with. They rarely led to anything more than that. The few times you had actually slept with them, they were all disappointments, none of them knowing your body like Jungkook did. 

In the evening, you tidied up your room, as you waited for Jungkook to arrive. Suddenly, a small stone hit your window and you knew it was Jungkook waiting to be let inside. Opening the window, you saw how Jungkook began climbing up the garage to reach your window. Throwing his backpack inside your room before he climbed in himself you took a moment to really look at him. Hair long and messy, parted in the middle, shoes dirty, brown oversized jacket that he probably got from his father slightly ripped on his left arm. He was not from a family of wealth, unlike you.

��You really have to let me buy you a new jacket.” You sigh as you move over to sit on your bed again, and he laughs.

“Nah, that would be too suspicious. Also, can’t take away all that money that probably needs to go to the latest bags that’ll come out soon.”

Groaning, you put your head back against the bed frame. “Ugh, don’t remind me of next week. Still can’t believe we have to buy matching bags as if we’re fucking ten years old or something.” This was Hanna’s idea and it was probably the stupidest thing to ever come out of her mouth. To be fair though, nothing smart ever came out of it either so.

“I’m just gonna wash up. Then we can go to bed,” Jungkook announced as he took off his jacket and threw it on his bag. He always showered when he came over to yours, never missing the chance to shower in actual hot water with nice soaps and shampoos.

“Don’t take too long.” You say as he brushes past you to go to your bathroom. Having your own bathroom connected to your bedroom was probably the most luxurious thing you had, according to Jungkook.

“Wouldn’t keep my girl waiting.” He said before closing the bathroom door. My girl. It was something that Jungkook had started to call you not long ago. The thing you had going on-- had been going on for over a year-- on and off, but for the last two months the two of you had been meeting every week. Neither of you knew what this meant and did not dwell on it. Enjoying each other’s company was enough for the two of you. 

Brushing your hair, you decided to put it up in a scrunchie before laying down on your bed. Shortly after, Jungkook was done with his shower and joined you in bed. Smelling like strawberries he began to quietly hum something in your ear as he drew you closer to him. Your back against his chest, his arms around you. You fell asleep fast that night, feeling safe in Jungkook’s arms. He waited until you had fallen asleep to admire your features once more before falling asleep as well. This was the first of many times the two of you shared a bed without having sex.

18 December 1991

“What do you wish for Christmas?”

“For the last time Jungkook, I’m not letting you buy me a Christmas present.” The two of you sat in his bedroom, doing some homework while his father was away and his mother at the store. For a whole week Jungkook had been trying to figure out what you wanted for Christmas, but you were not budging. Not one bit.

“It could be anything, it doesn’t have to be something I have to buy for you, if you are worried about the money.” 

Sighing, you let your textbook fall to the floor. “You really don’t have to.”

This you made very clear. He did not owe you anything and you did not owe him anything either. Although, you had already got him a Christmas gift. You saw it as your only chance to get the boy a proper jacket that was not ripped everywhere.

“I know but I want to give you something.” As he emphasized the want you realized there might be something more between the two of you. Something the two of you left unspoken as Jungkook went over to your place for the second time this week without any intentions of sleeping with you.

“A fantasy you wish to come true? Come on baby, you know I won’t judge nor that I would find it gross or anything. Most likely I’m more into it than you.” This was a fact, Jungkook was kinkier than you but not by much. There were some things you wanted to try but felt weird to ask about when the sex the two of you had was already good. Jungkook would dominate you and have you in any way he pleased while giving you tremendous amounts of praise. You loved it, but sometimes you wondered how it would be to dominate him. Have him crumble in your hands, blindfolded, not knowing what would happen next.

“Come on baby, I can see that you are thinking about it. Just tell me.” Urging you to tell him, Jungkook scooted closer to where you were sitting, a smirk on his lips.

“Maybe I could be in charge for once? Just to try it out?” You hesitantly suggested, searching Jungkook’s face to try and see his reaction. To your surprise Jungkook shrugged and leaned back against his bed.

“Sure, why not?” Smiling shyly, you were happy that Jungkook is agreeing to it, even though, so far, he had been the most dominant man you had been with in bed. Maybe he was different with others, you thought.

“Although…” Jungkook began. “You are probably the most submissive person I’ve ever met, so I have quite a hard time imagining it.”

“Oh really?” You said as you start crawling towards him. You needed to prove your point now, your competitive side needing to show him you could be dominant towards him. As you reach him across the floor, you straddle him, putting your arms around his neck. An amusing smirk pinned on his face as he watches you struggle to figure out what to do next. Usually, Jungkook would have told you to do something by now, but here he was, quiet, letting you take charge.

“I think…” You began, losing your trail of thought, feeling slightly overwhelmed with the situation.

“I think I need to tie you up.” You say a bit more confidently, biting your lip.

“Then get a tie from my drawer.” Jungkook tells you and you hop off him in order to find a tie in his drawer. Even when you were the one in charge, he called the shots. Coming back with the tie, you looked nervously at Jungkook who smiled widely at you as he got up from the floor.

“Where do you want me?” He asked and you thought about it for a second.

“On the bed, take off your shirt and pants.” Biting his lip, barely believing what you were saying, Jungkook complied with your order, taking off his clothes. Eager to see what you had in mind for him.

“Yes ma’am.” He said as he laid down on the bed. You joined him, sitting down beside his head, trying to figure out how to tie his hands to the bed. Jungkook saw your hesitation and sat up, taking your hands and the tie in his.

“I’ll show you how to do it, and you just have to do the same, okay?” Reassuring you, seeing you relax a bit, he showed you how to tie the tie around one of his hands. The knot seemed fairly simple you thought.

“Lay down.” Jungkook did as you said, and you took the tie around the bed frame, bringing it back to his other hand and tying the tie around his other wrist. Jungkook tugged on his hands slightly and when you saw that he was getting nowhere, you relaxed for a bit. Taking off your pants, you positioned yourself on top of him. Your clothed pussy above his half hard dick. Staring down at him, you were mesmerized by his abs. Boy did his workout pay off. You could sit endlessly and trace his chest and abdomen, so that is what you did.

“Noona…” Jungkook grunted after a while, growing harder with every second as you touched him in any way that pleased you. It was a nickname you had not heard in a while. In the beginning, he used it to tease you because you were a few months older than him. now it had a whole different meaning and oh did you love how it sounded when it came out of his mouth like a prayer.

“Yes?”

“Please kiss me.” Reaching down you captured his lips in a sweet kiss that soon enough grew heavier. You missed Jungkook’s hands all over your body but soon enough you remembered it was not the time for that now and you began planning what to do next. Jungkook felt when you began grinding on him, and he was happy his tactics worked. Kissing always made you relax and that was what he was after. He needed you to relax so you could enjoy this as much as he did. Feeling him grow even harder underneath you made you whimper, loving the way his dick felt beneath you. Jungkook moaned as you sat up and grinded down hard on him.

“Noona please… will you touch me?”

“Not yet, patience.” Taking off your top, leaving yourself in only your underwear, you continued to grind on Jungkook, earning a quiet moan from him. You wanted more. More specifically, you wanted his mouth on your clit. There was only one way that would happen in this position with him tied up. 

You would have to ride his face, something you had only done once before when you were drunk. Remembering how good it felt was all the motivation you needed to set your plan in motion. Pulling off your underwear while still sitting on Jungkook proved to be a challenge but eventually you got it off.

“Take off your bra too Noona, wanna see your tits.” Shaking your head at Jungkook’s words, you began to crawl your way upwards.

“Not yet, wanna ride your face first.” Jungkook hissed at your words, barely believing his ears. He had wanted you to ride his face again ever since that night you took one to many vodka shots and ended up sitting on his face.

“Fuck… please ride me Noona. I promise I’ll make you feel good.” Clenching upon hearing his words, you eagerly placed yourself above his face, holding the bed frame for support as you began lowering yourself down on him. Jungkook met you halfway, too eager to have to wait any more and you let out a deep moan as he licked your wet slit. You continued lowering yourself until Jungkook’s head rested against the pillow again, slowly grinding yourself on his tongue as he laid it out flat for you to ride. 

Your moans got louder as you approached your release and Jungkook took notice. Flicking his tongue fast against your clit as your movements slowed down. With legs shaking on either side of Jungkook’s face, you came. Your vision blurred, head a bit dizzy as you got off Jungkook and sat beside him on the bed. Looking at him tied up against the bed, breathing uneven, lips red and puffy you wanted nothing more than to kiss him, so you did. You tasted yourself on his lips as you softly made out with him before pulling away and releasing his hands from the bed frame.

“Had your fun baby?” He asked you, smiling, rubbing his wrists for a bit. You nodded and smiled back at him. It was better than you could have imagined. Never did you think you would find the courage to sit on his face again. You were afraid he would suffocate somehow and had always declined when he had asked. Of course, Jungkook never pushed you and let it go every single time. Finally, he got to have you ride his face again.

“Want me to take charge?” As you answered his question ‘yes’ he got on top of you, pushing you down towards the bed. Kissing you desperately and grinding himself against your wet core. He was almost painfully hard at this point.

“Feel what you do to me baby? You were such a good girl when you were in charge, made me so hard.” He whispered in your ear as he began to kiss your neck, leaving a few marks here and there until he found the spot that made you let out a moan. 

“Want me to make you feel even better? Want me to fill up that pretty little pussy of yours?” His hands found their way around to your back. He unclasped your bra, taking it swiftly off as he began to palm your breasts with one of his hands, the other supporting him so he could lay above you.

“Please.” You pleaded and Jungkook could never say no to you. Taking off his boxers and letting his cock nudge at your entrance, you whined.

“Someone’s impatient.” Jungkook teased and you rolled your eyes as you looked into his, making sure he saw it.

“Someone has been waiting for a while.” You snarked back at him and he laughed.

“Well you don’t have to wait any longer.” As soon as the words left his lips, he began to push inside of you. The stretch stinging a bit at first but as soon as he bottomed out and stayed still for a while, kissing you in the meantime, it all went away. When he started rocking into you, you were in pure bliss.

“Fuck… you feel so good.” Jungkook grunted and all you could reply with was the moans that left your mouth whenever he hit a spot that had you feeling pure bliss.

“Wanna go deeper… Can I do that baby?” Always asking, always making sure you are okay with everything.

“Please.” You answered, wanting nothing more. He put one of your legs on his shoulder, going even deeper and occasionally hitting your g-spot. When you started clenching around him, Jungkook took it as his cue to circle your clit with his finger to help you over the edge. As soon as he began drawing circles you moaned loudly.

“Shh baby, you are doing so good for me, but I need you quiet down a bit yeah?” You nodded and he dropped his head to yours to kiss you, muffling your moans. As he did the leg you had on his shoulder got stretched out more and you felt a little bit of pain at the uncomfortable position. Luckily it was barely noticeable as you came when Jungkook started rubbing your clit just a little faster, wanting you to cum at the same time as him.

This one, he dragged out until you almost started to feel overstimulated and started pushing him away. Getting your cue, he slowed down after one final thrust that sent him over the edge. Breathing heavily on top of you, Jungkook kissed you before getting up from the bed, cleaning the mix of both of your cum off his dick with a tissue as he got dressed.

“Want me to help you get dressed?” He asked as you switched positions, so you were laying on your side, breathless and almost dizzy, needing some time to recover.

“Yes please.”

Smiling, he picked up your clothes from the floor and began to help you dress. Normally he would not do this for a girl, but you were not just any girl, you were his girl.

 25 December 1991

Laying in bed in your room at night you suddenly heard a noise outside of your window. Going to check out what it was you see Jungkook looking up at you, hands in his jacket pockets and a beaming smile. Opening the window for him, he starts climbing up your house, something he does way to often nowadays you think. Once he got inside your room, he throws his arms around you before you could even ask him what he is doing here.

“Merry Christmas!” he says softly in your ear and you melt in his arms, hugging him back and mutter ‘merry Christmas’ back to him. Pulling away, he reaches inside his jacket pocket. His hands that had gloves on that did not cover his fingers (you always asked him if they even provided any heat) had now a small wrapped gift in them in front of you.

“Open your gift.” 

Beyond shocked that he had gotten you a gift you murmured back at him, “I thought we said no gifts?”

“Just open it.” He pleads and you cannot help but to do as he says. You take the gift from his hands and unwrap it slowly. It was a box. Jungkook had a grin on his face as your eyes met before you opened the box. Inside of it was a goldenrod scrunchie.

“You didn’t!” You exclaimed at him.

“I know how much you love that yellow sunflower dress so when I saw it, I couldn’t help myself.” He spoke as you inspected the scrunchie carefully, not believing your eyes.

“I have looked for it for so long, where did you find it?” You ask him and he shakes his head.

“Not telling, in case I have to buy you more presents.” He answers, and you laugh. Smiling at him, you put the scrunchie around your wrist and admire it.

“Thank you.” He just nods at you, unsure what to do now. Breaking the silence, you ask the question that you have been wondering ever since you saw him outside your window.

“Why did you come here? Shouldn’t you be with your family?” You saw the way his face frowned a bit. Truth to be told, Jungkook wanted to be anywhere but with his family.

“Dad asked me to go and buy him more booze, took a detour to see you.” Smiling at him softly, you nervously tuck your hair behind your ear before looking beside your bed to see the present that you had bought for him.

“Guess you’ll have to open yours now as well.”

“I thought we said no gifts?” His smirk was back on his face and you roll your eyes as you walk over to pick it up.

“Shut up and take it.” Walking over to him and almost shoving it in his arms he laughs.

“Feisty.” He says before looking at the package wrapped in front of him as big as his chest. He really wondered what you could have gotten him, that was this big. Now, his own gift felt lame but so did yours to you, knowing how much your gift means to you while your gift to him was a bit more… well… not that personal. As he unwrapped his package, he was greeted with a jacket, brown and looking much like the one he already owned, well except all the holes and dirt.

“Figured if I bought you a similar one, no one would notice, and you didn’t have to freeze as much. Argh, it’s so stupid!” You say as you slump down on your bed, brushing your fingers through your hair and letting out a sigh.

“Hey…” Jungkook spoke softly as he crouched down in front of you. Searching for your eyes with his as your head hung low, staring at your hands that were placed in your lap.

“It’s not stupid, I really love it.” Taking your hands in his he caresses them. You look up to meet his eyes. The worry slowly disappears from your body.

“Really?” You asked. Jungkook nods and smiles at you, bringing a smile to your face as well.

“Thank you so much.” Jungkook meant it. Never had anyone bought him clothes, noticing how cold he was in his old jacket, having to put on layers underneath it. Now he did not have to freeze every winter and rainy day. All thanks to your gift. All thanks to you.

  14 January 1991

"Are you coming to the party?" Jungkook asked as he was laying on your bed, mindlessly throwing a baseball he found in your room towards the ceiling and catching it on the way down. He had been asking you to come to this stupid party for days now. Parties were not your thing, but if it were not for them, you would never have met Jungkook. Still, you hated them. Parties meant spending more time with the plastics and going to a social gathering where everyone expected you to play some kind of role. A role you did not like.

“I’m not sure.” Answering him with the same answer as you did yesterday, Jungkook caught the baseball one last time before placing it down on your nightstand. As you sat on the bed next to Jungkook reading this week’s history chapter, you were suddenly attacked. Jungkook wrapped his arms around you, dragging you down with him. 

Squealing as you fell down on top of Jungkook you tried your best to wiggle your way out of his grasp. Jungkook chuckled and began to plant kisses all over your face, whenever he got the opportunity. Dropping your book beside you, you tried using your hands to get out of his grasp, but he was not budging. His strong grasp keeps you trapped against him.

“Ugh let me go Jungkook I have homework to do!” You tried reasoning with him but Jungkook would just ‘hmm’ in your ear, like he was in deep thoughts.

“On one condition… You come to the party.” Once the words left Jungkook’s mouth you tried your very best to get out of his grasp without any success. Sighing, you realized there was no other way if you were going to get your history homework done on time.

“Fine, I’ll come.” You agreed, thinking Jungkook was going to let go of you but as soon as you tried to get up you were pushed down against his body again.

“Jungkook!” You annoyingly exclaimed and he snuggled his head in the crock of your neck.

“Just give me a sec… You are so cosy. I can’t help myself.” Rolling your eyes at his words, trying to get out of his grasp one more time, Jungkook let go of you. Sitting up and picking up your book, you looked over your shoulder to see him lying peacefully on your bed. A smile on his face.

“Behave or else I’ll throw you out.” You warned him but he just chuckled at your words. Knowing you would never actually throw him out.

“I promise baby.”

 17 January 1992

The moment you saw him and Holly making out you wanted to gag. For days Jungkook had asked you if you were coming to the party, only to be making out with Holly as soon as you arrived. Anger, disgust filled your body. The two of you were not together by any means but you were still angry somehow, disgusted and a little hurt. You and the plastics had been appropriately half an hour late to the party. Drinking at Tiffany’s and getting ready. 

Already tipsy and fuelled with anger you took a shot before going out on the dancefloor in the living room to find someone who could get your mind of him. Somehow, Matt who happened to be two years older than you, caught your eye and you decided that he would do. He had been flirting with you at other parties so it felt safe to assume he was attracted to you and would want to dance with you. 

As you looked eyes with him and approached him, he took a swing of his beer, eyeing you up and down. Normally, this would make you feel something but tonight your mind was clouded by Jungkook. You were not looking for Matt’s attention, you were looking for his.

“Wanna dance?” You asked as you made your way over to him, standing now in front of him and looking up at him. He was way taller than you remembered, but then again, you decided not to wear your highest high heels tonight.

“Sure.” He said, putting down his beer and reached out to grab your hand, dragging you after him out on the dancefloor. The two of you started dancing together, your back pressed to his front, grinding your ass against his crotch. 

Your focus was however not on him, but on Jungkook who danced with Holly not far away from you. He stopped making out with her for a second, moving away her hair to expose her neck for him. When he leaned in to kiss her neck, he met your eyes. Shocked, he just looked at you for a second before starting to kiss Holly’s neck, never breaking eye contact with you. 

Never once did he think he would witness you in another man's arms, grinding your ass against him while he roams his hands all over your body. Never had you taken an interest in another man, at least not until tonight.

Two can play this game, you thought as you took your right hand up to Matt’s face. Gently touching it, you urged him to meet you halfway as you tilted your head upwards. He understood exactly what you wanted and met you in a sloppy drunk kiss. You could smell the faint of alcohol from his mouth as he kissed you and he tasted bitter. 

Mother fucker, was all Jungkook could think for a while, completely forgetting the girl in his arms. He stopped kissing Holly’s neck. He wanted to reach over and drag you away from him, but he never got the chance as the two of you were interrupted by one of Matt’s friends. They talked with each other for a brief moment before Matt whispered something in your ear, kissed your cheek and disappeared after his friend.

Once Matt left your side to check on one of his friends had gotten into a fight, you were left alone on the dancefloor. When you looked straight forward again and saw Holly still in Jungkook’s arms you decided this was it. There was no point in you staying, moping around, being alone, since Jungkook was your only real friend and the only one who wanted you here. Or at least, so you thought.

Walking through the crowd trying to find the exist while being slightly drunk in a house you had been to only once before proved to be more difficult than you thought. Eventually you made your way into a hallway and saw one door open, revealing a bathroom inside and decided to try and sober up. Drink some water from the tap or something, anything to get you sober enough to find your way out. 

As your hand reached the doorknob to close the door behind you, you were pushed further in. As you stood with your back pressed against the sink and looked up to see who had followed you, you were met with Jungkook’s deep brown eyes. Anger filled your body.

“Leaving your new girlfriend on the dancefloor I see.” Jealousy filling your body at the thought of him and Holly. Jungkook locked the door behind him and closed the distance between the two of you, standing now in front of you. You turned your face away when Jungkook tried to bring his hand up to caress your cheek. He looked at you with a pout.

"Baby..." He dragged out the ‘a’ as he took hold of your arms trying to bring you closer. He knew you were upset.

"You know you are the only one for me." You scoffed at his words. His charms were not working on you tonight. Still resisting his touch, you snarked back at him.

"Didn't look like that when Holly was down your throat." The image of them popping back into your head and leaving you with a bitter, sour taste. To be honest, you did not even know why you were so upset. Just that you did not like seeing Holly anywhere near Jungkook.

"Are you jealous?"

"No," you were quick to answer him. As you did his body language changed. It was like a switch had been flicked and as he looked down on you with desire, you started feeling hot. He towered above you, parting your legs with his body, standing in between them.

"Cause I was pretty fucking jealous when Matt was down yours." Before you even had a second to process what Jungkook said he had his lips moving with yours. Hungrily kissing you, making you breathless. His hands moving through your hair, grabbing it, tilting your head so your neck was exposed. His lips left yours and travelled downwards, kissing the outer corner of your lip, your jaw and lastly your neck where he started roaming around. 

Sucking, biting and licking, trying to find your sweet spot. You let out a deep moan once he did. He smiled, smelling the faint scent of the perfume you were wearing. Sweet, just like you, he thought to himself. You felt his bulge getting bigger against your thigh, his hands getting rougher, more impatient. 

A sudden loud bang on the door made the two of you freeze in your movements.

“Can you fuck somewhere else? Some of us have to use the bathroom.” Muttering ‘shit’ under your breath you suddenly realized the situation the two of you were in. Anyone could have seen the two of you getting into the bathroom, someone is guaranteed see the two of you leaving together. Your secret would be exposed. Seeing the worry on your face, Jungkook took his hand to caress your cheek, comforting you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go first and buy you some time, okay?” You nodded and he followed through with his plan. Letting go of your face, taking a step backwards he smiled before he turned around to face the bathroom door. 

As he unlocked it, you took a deep breath, your head hanging low, eyes on the ground, trying to avoid the eyes of the people you were imagining were looking at you. Jungkook looked back at you once before opening the door and stepping out of the bathroom. He hated it, the secrecy of your relationship. How you almost looked ashamed of being with him. He felt like it was time for him to go home, he no longer had any thoughts on staying, even though all of his friends would probably look for him. 

A girl entered the bathroom and gave you a look that more or less said ‘get the fuck out’ and so you did. Looking around once, you stepped out of the bathroom and realized nobody was really looking at you, or judging you. Thank God. 

Finally, being able to breath again you once again tried to find your way out. On your quest to find the front door you stumbled upon Matt, who was very insisting on letting one of his friends drive you home as apparently, all of you were going to the same neighbourhood. Not being able to say no, you got in the car and that’s how you found your way home.

Once your head rested against your pillow, body laying down on your bed you could not help but think how differently this night could have ended. Jungkook could have been by your side, if only you would have talked to him. If only you were not so afraid of what people might think of you. If only… and with that on your mind you feel asleep.

 03 February 1992

“So… what are you planning on becoming?” Jungkook asked you as the two of you were walking, hand in hand on your way over to his house, skipping the last class. The teacher was probably just going to put on a movie any way since your school had an information day today where they brought up the different universities and options you had after school before lunch. 

Most of the teachers thought this would be going on for the whole day so skipping class did not seem too bad. Also, this meant you could hang out with Jungkook in public without worrying about anyone seeing the two of you since every one of your classmates were at school. What you wanted to become when you grow up… This was something you had already been thinking about for the last couple of years, looking forward to when you could finally leave this hell-town.

“Maybe… a boss of some sort?” At your answer Jungkook chuckled. Letting go of his hand you lightly slapped him, asking him ‘what?’.

“No, nothing. I think you are great at bossing people around, so it’ll suit you just fine!” Jungkook said with a smile on his face but you did not really believe his words. Taking hold of your hand again, Jungkook continued walking with you by his side. Despite his words, you were still feeling as if he was teasing you.

“You are just making fun of me…” Pouting and whining as you said it, trying to make Jungkook feel guilty, you quickly realized you succeeded when he stopped walking. Holding your hand, the both of you came to a halt. Jungkook’s gaze on you softened as you stood in front of him.

“Hey… I didn’t mean it like that. I really do feel like you would make a great boss.” Scoffing, you turned your head, letting go of his hand to cross your arms over your chest. With fondness Jungkook smiled, knowing you were not really angry with him. If you had, you would have already started walking away from him. Something he had picked up over the last couple of months. 

“You are compassionate, responsible, great at teaching and you do have a lot of patience. Isn’t that exactly what a good leader needs to have in order to have people look up to them? See them for guidance and trust them?” His words almost threw you off a bit. Jungkook rarely spoke to you this way but when he did, your heart skipped a beat every single time. No scratch that, nowadays it skipped a beat whenever he would just look at you. 

You could not help but smile and feel your cheeks getting redder as you slightly slapped him on his arm again. Embarrassed and not wanting him to see your reaction.

“What now?” He would ask you, amused with your reaction. Noticing the way your cheeks had turned a shade redder.

“Shut up, let’s go.” You told him as you started walking again. Wanting to get to his house as soon as possible. Shaking his head, Jungkook followed you. Taking your hand in his again. He smiled, as you did not fight him. Enjoying the warmth, you provided by his side.  

 04 March 1992

Jungkook was late. Over an hour had you waited for him to come over to your house and study like the two of you had agreed. He was falling behind, by a lot. He did not want you to know of course but as you looked for a hoodie in his drawer last week you found his grades. You did not mean to look at them but once you saw an F on several of them, you could not help but to ask Jungkook about it. He told you the truth, as always. 

He was failing because he could not study at home but because of you, he was not failing every class. The study sessions the two of you had helped him greatly and he was very thankful for your help. So, you decided the two of you should study more often so you could help him pass this term. Give him a chance to be able to study after high school. 

He was probably not taking this seriously, you thought and when you finally heard someone climbing up the garage outside your window. You knew it was him. Angrily, you crossed your arms and waited for him to get inside so you could scold him. His face was hanging low, his whole body slumped as he climbed into the window.

“An hour Jungkook? Honestly? Do you think I enjoy-” Stopping yourself mid sentence, as soon as you meet his gaze. His left eye was swollen and purple, his lip bleeding with a cut on the outer corner. Hair messy, clothes wet from the rain that started a while ago. Your eyes softened when your eyes met his tear-filled ones. Going over to him, you gently caressed his face. He tried avoiding eye contact with you.

“What happened?” You whispered and Jungkook suddenly put his lips on yours, wincing at the pain the cut in his lip provided. He was not in the mood to talk. Jungkook just wanted all his feelings to disappear, even if for only a moment. Taking your hands to his chest you gently pushed him away.

“Please tell me…” Jungkook cut you off before you could even finish your sentence.

“You are my distraction, aren’t you?” You nodded, confused at what Jungkook was trying to imply.

“Then fucking act like it.” His harsh words left a sour feeling inside your throat, but you tried to swallow it down as he kissed you again. Leaving you breathless as he pulled away to study your face for a minute, giving you a chance to say no. You knew you were in for a rough fuck but after a stressful day, it was exactly what you needed. As you pulled him down towards you, kissing him, Jungkook took this as a hint to continue. 

His rough hands on your body, undressing you as he backed you up against your bed. Pushing you down, you bounced around in your underwear before he placed himself on top of you momentarily before he got up again. Standing in front of you, in between your legs, he took off his shirt.

“Wha…” Your question was cut short as Jungkook placed his shirt around your eyes and tied it behind your head. Usually, he would use a tie to blindfold you but this time he had to be creative. 

“Be quiet and take what I’m willing to give you.” Manhandling you, Jungkook turned you roughly around. His hands on your hips, grabbing them upwards and placing you in the doggy position. His hands started roaming around your body, feeling your ass, kneading roughly your thighs before moving upwards towards your core. 

He touched you slightly over your clothed pussy and decided it was time for the fabric to go. Taking hold of your panties he ripped them apart. Squealing at the sudden sting the waistband of the panties hitting your sensitive skin, you felt exposed as the cold air of the room hit your core. 

“You can’t just-” your complaint about your new panties being ripped apart was cut short by Jungkook. 

“I can and I will. Now… I’ve told you to shut up and somehow you are still talking. Want me to stuff that dirty mouth with your panties hmm?” Shaking your head as you felt yourself getting wetter at the thought of Jungkook stuffing your mouth with your panties. A fantasy you have had for a while but did not have the courage to tell Jungkook about just yet. 

“No sir, I’ll be good,” you answer him, wanting to please him. 

“That’s my girl…” Jungkook whispered as he continued moving his fingers dangerously close to your hole before continuing, “now… Can I use you however I please and you’ll be a good girl and take?” Nodding at his question, wanting nothing more than to be his good girl, Jungkook entered one of his fingers in your pussy. You were not nearly wet enough as you needed to be for his cock, and he was going to change that. 

Whining, when he suddenly put in another finger. Stretching your unprepared pussy a little too much for your usual liking, but you were determined to take what Jungkook was willing to give you. Wanting to please him. If only he would pay attention to your clit. 

As if he could read your thoughts, Jungkook slightly brushed over your clit with his thumb which had you let out a low moan.

“Such a dirty slut, letting me use her however I want. I knew this about you ever since the first time I saw you at that party. Bet you let a lot of guys use you however they want, don’t you?” You chose not to answer him but someday you probably had to tell him the truth. There was really no one else but him. Twice had you tried sleeping with other guys and both were disappointments to say the least. Jungkook was even your first, but you would never tell him that. Afraid of how he would react.

As Jungkook continued fingering you, you could feel the pressure building but all the thoughts in your mind were distracting you. Clouding your pleasure and somehow you never reached the top like you usually would. So… you faked it. 

Not feeling like you could cum anyway and trying to avoid making Jungkook more upset, it seemed like the logical thing. Jungkook was pleased, thinking that he made you cum. You could hear him unzipping his pants and soon you felt the presence of the tip of his cock at your entrance. 

As he slowly entered you, you could feel the stretch slightly, but it was not as bad as you thought it would be. When he bottomed out, he stayed there to let you get used to it, waiting until you relaxed, before he started fucking you. Taking hold of your hips, pushing his cock in and out of your tight pussy, he moaned. You could not help but do the same, moaning whenever he reached your g-spot. 

It didn’t take him long to reach his high, he was not exactly holding back and trying to last longer. Thinking he had already made you cum. As Jungkook came with a finally deep thrust, body slumped over yours, he took a deep breath before pulling out. As he pulled out, you noticed how you could not feel any of his cum leaking out of your cunt. Did he not cum? 

As you took off his shirt that had been tied around your head. Acting as a blindfold, you turned your head around as you laid down on your side. You saw Jungkook removing a condom from his cock before tying it up and throwing it in the bin. His pants were still on, resting just below his hips. He pulled up his boxers and then his pants. He had not even taken off his pants this whole time while you had been lying naked in bed.

This gave you a weird feeling that you could not shake off. Something felt off. For some reason, he had used a condom tonight when the two of you had been going without one for more than half a year now, both getting tested beforehand. Making sure it was safe as you started taking birth control pills so the two of you could do it safely without a condom. He was probably seeing other girls again, you thought as you remembered Jungkook making out with Holly. Yeah, that was probably it.

“You’ll be alright yeah?” Your thoughts were interrupted by Jungkook who was now putting your blanket over your naked body as he took his shirt from your hand, his eyes searching for yours as he tried to make eye contact with you.

“Yeah.” You would answer him, not really sure what he was asking.

“Good. I’ll see you around.” Jungkook said before giving a kiss to your forehead. As he stood up, he turned around and went to your window. Was he really leaving? Your question was quickly answered as Jungkook threw his leg on the other side of your window and proceeded to climb out. 

This was not like him, you thought. Nowadays, he usually stays the night. Maybe this was a one-time thing? At least, you hoped it was as your heart felt heavy that night. Thoughts filled with worry for him. Was he going home to his father? God, you hoped he was going to his friends or something, but mostly you would have hoped he would have stayed. 

A single tear left your eyes as you got up to get dressed in your pyjamas to get ready to bed. What ever had happened today, you hoped would never happen again.

That night, you kept your window slightly ajar the whole night. Hoping Jungkook would come back. When you woke up the next morning in bed alone, you realized that was not the case. You were not his girlfriend. He was not your boyfriend. What were you even thinking right now? 

Annoyed with yourself, you put on your jogging shoes to try and go for a run. To clear your head. At first, it worked. For a little while. Until you started to worry again, and you almost found yourself running over to his house. No, if he wanted to talk, he would have come to you. You thought as you made your way back home. Hoping he would talk to you one day. Hoping he would explain.

 31 March 1992

You had spent all morning waiting for the mailman to come by your house. Hoping he would carry your college acceptance letter. Anxiously, you had been walking around, cleaning, trying anything to get your mind off it but nothing was working. Your mother tried to assure you, saying any college would be lucky to have you. You were above average, sure, but not too outstanding if you asked yourself. 

Jungkook, on the other hand. He would probably say the same as my mom, you thought. The two of you had not talked much recently. It seemed as if Jungkook was busy hanging out with his friends every day, and the time he had for you was minimal. 

You missed him, although, you would never admit it. So, while you were waiting, you decided to write down your thoughts and hide them in your box of confessions. Here were all the letters and things you wanted to say to people, but probably never would. 

Maybe, getting it all down on paper would help as usual, but this time it left you writing with no end. Emotions and thoughts that were never ending. It felt like you could almost write a book to Jungkook. How mad you were at him when he kissed Holly. How sad you were the first time he left you alone in bed. How happy you felt when he brought you that scrunchie. It was a mess indeed, but at least you were getting it out somewhere when you could not talk to anyone about it. Still afraid people would judge. Still afraid people might talk if they knew what was going on between the two of you.  

Jungkook missed you terribly, but he thought it was for the best. He had completely fallen for you. Head over heels and he was screwed. You would never want him as anything more than a fuck buddy, he thought. So that is how he decided to treat you. 

Go back to the beginning of your relationship, no sleepovers. No sweet talking. No studying together. Just sex. That worked most of the time, except for the times Jungkook felt guilty every time you asked him to stay. It made him second guess his choice every time. Thinking, maybe… just maybe… you had feelings for him too. 

Those thoughts would quickly disappear as whenever the two of you locked eyes out in public, yours would turn away. You did not want to be seen with him, he had to remind himself. With that in mind, Jungkook had made his choice to stay away from you. No matter how hard it was.

Around an hour later, you finally held your college application letter in your hand. Nervously you opened it. Reading though it, you realized. You were accepted. You got into your first choice even. 

Squealing, you could not wait to tell Jungkook. Oh… right… The smile on your face quickly turned to a frown when you remembered how distant he had been with you lately. He probably did not care, you tried to remind yourself. The two of you were merely fuck buddies after all. 

With that in mind, you tried to distract yourself from the thoughts of Jungkook, by showing the letter to your mom. Hugging her tightly as she told you how proud she was of you. Somehow, she was not the person you wanted to make the proudest anymore. Somehow, that was Jungkook and as you realized it, you were terrified. You had fallen in love with Jeon Jungkook.

 18 April 1992

With a lump in your throat and your vision blurred from the tears that escape your eyes, you hesitantly walk up towards Jungkook’s house. What was he even supposed to do? Why did you even think of going to him in the first place? After all, the two of you had not lately talked at all. He had been distant for a while now, but lately, you did not even talk with each other. It was like, he came over to your house, the two of you had sex and then he left. Nothing more, nothing less.

Today, you and the girls had all gathered at Tiffany’s house to hang out and start planning what dresses you would be buying for prom. It should have been fun, considering you actually looked forward to prom, but all your excitement was flushed down the drain as soon as the girls started talking about your body. 

Who you should go with or why you should even bother to go, when no guy had shown any interest in you so far. You got out of there as quickly as possible to get some air, but somehow your thoughts drifted to Jungkook and your legs started moving towards his house. Should you even knock? What if his father is home? With shaking hands, you knocked lightly on his door and soon enough you heard footsteps approaching the door.

As Jungkook opened the door he found you, teary eyes looking down on the ground, your trembling lip caught between your teeth and hands fiddling at the seam of your shirt. The smile he had on his lips when he opened the door and saw you quickly disappeared as he noticed your state. Walking outside, he closed the door behind him so his friends would not hear your conversation, respecting your privacy.

“Hey,” he spoke softly, and you looked up at him, meeting his eyes. He never expected you to show up at his doorstep like this. Especially not after how distant he had been towards you lately. Still… he was somehow happy that you had come to him.

“What’s wrong?” You shrugged, not really knowing what to say but Jungkook was patient. Waiting for you to collect your thoughts and talk to him.

“I don’t really know, the girls started talking about prom and how I’m never going to find a date because…” Your trembling voice gave out as you started sobbing. Jungkook wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in tightly against his body. Your head against his chest as you cried into his hoodie. He truly felt like home, his scent and warmth bringing you comfort.

“Shh…” Jungkook whispered as he caressed your back and stroked your hair.

“You know better than anyone that most things that come out of their mouths is utter bullshit.” He was right, but you could not help but to feel your heart sink every time you thought about what they had said to you.

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” you mumbled into his chest and he kissed your hair. Letting out a heavy breath, you finally felt like you could breathe again.

“I know, I know.” Jungkook reassured you. Letting out a sigh as Jungkook took a step back, releasing you from his embrace, you wanted to complain. Wanting him to comfort you more, but he was quick to bring one of his hands up to your face and wipe away your tears. Tilting your head up by taking hold of your chin so your eyes would meet.

“Want to hang out with me and boys for a while and once they leave, we can talk?” He suggested and you quickly shook your head. The last thing you wanted was to bother him in anyway. He was not your boyfriend. He had no obligation to take care of you.

“I really don’t want to intrude.” As soon as your answer left your mouth, Jungkook was quick to respond.

“You wouldn’t” That was all it took to reassure you and with a beating heart you quietly muttered an ‘okay’ and Jungkook smiled.

“Follow me.” Intertwining his hand with yours he opened the door and walked in with you right behind him. The boys that sat on the couch all got quiet as they turned their heads to see you and Jungkook standing in the hallway. They all recognized you quickly, one of the plastics, one of the wealthy girls in town. 

You, on the other hand, only recognized Taehyung and not the other two boys that were sitting in the living room. Taehyung was often seen beside Jungkook at school and Jungkook often talked about him with you, saying you would love him if you got to know him. Guess this was your chance.

“Guys, this is ‘____’, she’s staying with us tonight” Jungkook announced and truth to be told, you could not really read their faces at all. Staring at them as they stared back at you, you had never felt more out of place. The plastics somehow felt more normal. Never did you think you would ever have that thought. 

You were brought out of your trance as Jungkook tugged on your hand, dragging you towards the couch. Following him, he sat down on the empty couch, next to the one where Taehyung and the other two boys sat. Sitting down next to him you awkwardly smiled at the boys and they smiled a sceptical smile back at you, not really sure probably on how to react. Never had they once seen Jungkook take any girl home. 

On the table in front of you were beer bottles and tv-game controllers. As you looked over on the tv you saw that they were playing some sort of video game. Jungkook smiled as he observed you.

“It’s Super Mario, Jimin got it last week. Probably the best game out there on Super Nintendo” He explained to you and one of the boys, the one on the far right spoke up.

“It’s really fun, you should try it!” He exclaimed and you smiled shaking your head, declining his offer.

“Oh! I’m Jimin by the way, this is Hoseok and that’s Taehyung.” Jimin said as he pointed at the other two boys sitting on his couch. Once the boys started playing their game you started to feel more at ease. More comfortable as you started leaning towards Jungkook on the couch, bringing your feet up to rest on the couch as well. As you changed position, Jungkook could not help but want you even closer.

“Come here.” Confused, you looked to your right to see that Jungkook had parted his legs, encouraging you to sit in between them. Looking over at the boys on the other couch you saw that they were fully immersed in the game. Why not? You thought and settled between his legs. Jungkook wrapped his body around you as your back rested against his chest. For the next round the controller was thrown to Jungkook and he bent down to whisper in your ear.

“Imma win this one for you baby.” You felt goosebumps all over your body, heart skipping a beat. What the girls had said earlier to you was long forgotten as you sat in here in Jungkook’s embrace. He ended up winning the race and for the next one, he showed you how to play. How he managed to win despite having his focus on showing you all the controls was beyond you. 

The game after that you were the one playing against Jimin. Jungkook showed you how to change character and you chose Peach. He probably went easy on you since you won, nothing he would admit though. Jungkook was proud, happy and content. You were getting along with his friends.

You could not help but to think of the night not too long ago, when Jungkook had showed up to your house, beaten. There was no doubt it was his father who had abused him, but you never asked. Whatever was between the two of you had felt different after that. 

He had always seeked your comfort before and you his as you did today, but something had always felt off after that. As if his trust in you was broken. Not entirely, but enough to wonder why he never felt as if he could just talk to you about it. Why he had stopped talking to you almost entirely. Also, it was not the last time Jungkook came to you for comfort like that. Each time, leaving you a little hollower than the time before. Remembering your place in his life. His fuck buddy. Merely someone to take his mind off things for a while.

The rest of the night was spent playing video games, staying up way too late and lastly with you falling asleep in Jungkook’s arms. If only every night could be spent like this, you thought. If the two of you could somehow talk about the two of you. What you were to one another. By now, you were sure you loved him. Somehow you could never allow yourself to completely fall for him, scared he does not feel the same way. Scared that the feelings you were feeling were one sided. 

They probably were, you thought, remembering the way he spoke to you that night. Saying you are his distraction and nothing more. Remembering when he made out with Holly at the party instead of hanging out with you when he had begged you to come. Something had felt off after all of that. Remembering that he had barely spoken to you these last few weeks. Today, you had fallen asleep in his arms, pretending it was all fine. Wanting it so badly to be fine. Not trying to think too much about it, when lately it was all that had been on your mind. If only you could tell him your thoughts. If only.

 29 May 1992

You look over the schoolyard as you and the plastics sat by one of the outside lunch tables, eyes glued on Jungkook as he played basketball with his friends. Things have been different lately. Jungkook had wanted to spend more time with you but this time… you had been distant. 

The two of you had not had sex together in over two weeks now. Your mind filled with worry, anxiety and stress. As you got your acceptance letter, you quickly tried to find your own apartment in New York. In your favour, your aunt had a friend that was going away for a year to study abroad. Needing someone to take care of her apartment in the meantime. 

You had signed the contract a few days ago. You would be moving in a few days after school had ended. Everything was happening so fast, too fast. Therefore, you prioritised yourself. Spending as much time planning and figuring this out in order to ease your mind. Of course, you wanted to see Jungkook, but you knew that would no longer be possible once you moved. 

So, you distanced yourself from him. Tried to become used to not seeing him. It was mostly going well. Well, that was until the two of you locked eyes and he shot you a smile before continuing to play with his friends again. You had smiled back at him, loving the warm feeling inside your body whenever his attention was on you. Fuck… this was not going to be easy, you thought.

 14 June 1992

Jungkook was happy, school was over. He had passed his exams, he could actually come with you, wherever you were going to study. Jungkook had not told you this yet, but he was hoping he could come with you, get away from his father. He wanted to tell you this today so the two of you could figure it out over the summer. Maybe... He could probably work for a year or two. Maybe save enough money for college one day, he thought. He remembered how you almost glowed when you talked about your dreams. Your dream to work for a big company one day. So, he worked his ass off. Studying wherever he had the time so he would pass his exams, so he had a chance at college one day. Anything to make you proud. Anything to be with you.

As he brushed his teeth, he could not help but to imagine your reaction when he told you that he would be able to come with you. He knew you were anxious about leaving but the two of you knew it was for the best. Leave this small town and find new friends, family and a place to call your own. A place that could be potentially a home for the two of you. He was certain he would confess to you. His love, he was sure, was endless for you. A never stopping force that he could not deny any longer. Today he would tell you. Of that, he was sure.

When he saw you on the park bench his smile faded. You were crying, hands fiddling with your shirt, something you did when you were nervous. Eyes looking towards the ground. Jungkook imagined this was all because you thought he would not be able to come with you. That you had to say goodbye to him, as you left for college.

“Hey.” He spoke softly once he reached you and your eyes looked up to meet his.

“Hey…” You whispered back, and he put out his arms to pull you into his embrace, but you refused. Putting your arms in front of you, stopping his body from wrapping itself around yours. Jungkook looked confused letting his arms fall to his side again.

“What’s wrong?” He asked and you could barely look at him.

“I can’t.” Puzzled he looked at you, trying to read your face.

“What do you mean?” Yeah what did you actually mean. You had been thinking about how to tell him for the last couple of days but now when the day had come, no words formed in your mouth. You knew by now that you loved him, but you also knew he could not come with you. You had to end it here, for your own sake and his. The two of you could not make it work long distance. For God’s sake, you were not even a couple, you thought.

“What do you mean you can’t?” Jungkook asked again when no answer came out of you. Whimpering, lip trembling, breathing unsteady you said it.

“I can’t be with you.” Jungkook was quiet. It felt as if all the air in his lungs had left him. His chest empty, drained of all the happiness that had filled his body earlier on. He did not know how to react. You could not even look at him, you knew if you did you would change your mind. For him, you probably would. The desire to be able to get out of the town that was the source of your unhappiness was bigger than your desire to be with him, not by much, but enough. You knew if you did not break up with Jungkook you would stay here. Stay and regret the decision your whole life. 

The silence was killing you. You had said what you needed to say. So, you decided it was time to leave. As you turned your heel to walk away from Jungkook he spoke, making you halt your movements.

“Why?” His question raised a number of thoughts in your mind, but before you had the chance to answer him, he continued. Clenching his jaw to keep the tears that had been forming in his eyes at bay.

“Was it something I did?” No, you wanted to tell him. You wanted to tell him that he made you feel loved like no one ever had before. You wanted to tell him the scrunchie that he got you was the most precious gift you had ever gotten. 

You wanted to tell him, no one ever was as honest as he was with you and that he was the only one who never once doubted you. Never made you feel insecure, made you feel as if you could not be yourself or made you feel like your feelings and thoughts were not valid. You wanted to tell him he made you whole, as if you had been searching for something your whole life and finally you had found it. None of that came out of your mouth though.

“I can’t stand watching you mess around with other girls.” The thought of him and Holly at the back of your head. Jungkook with someone else that was not you, someone that probably would treat him better. Treat him the way he deserved to be treated. Someone that just was not you. 

Besides… How would even things work if he could come with you? He was still one of the biggest players in the school. Would he be able to drop all of that for you or would you stay worried the entire time like you had now? Worried that all you were to him was a distraction even though deep down you knew you were something more than that. At least you hoped so.

All Jungkook could think about was that you probably had feelings for him too. Why else would you otherwise not be able to stand seeing him with other girls? He felt hope. 

“I’ll stop.” Jungkook choked out, his voice quiet, lip trembling as the first tear escaped his eyes as yours meet his.

“I promise.” He continued. What he wanted to tell though was that he had not messed around with anyone ever since you got jealous at that party, ever since he saw you in someone else’s arms. After that, it all felt wrong to him. Especially since all he wanted was you.

“I have to focus on myself, I need some time.” You whispered as Jungkook stepped closer. When you did not move away, he brought his hands to your face, holding it carefully as if you would break otherwise. He rested his forehead against yours and took a deep breath.

“I’ll wait.” Jungkook said truthfully, he would wait for as long as it would take for you to come back to him. You did not want that. You wanted better for him. Someone, who could openly say they were in a relationship, without thinking of others. Show him the love he deserved without being afraid of how other people may react. 

Sobbing with your eyes closed you tried to remember what his scent was like, the one that gave you a feeling of home when you breathed it in. You wanted to remember it, forever if you could. This close you could smell it, if only you could stay here forever, but you could not.

Jungkook let his fingers run through your hair and back to your cheek, feeling the softness of your skin, the roughness of your hair telling him you had not brushed your hair today, yet, you looked stunning as ever. He had to tell you what he thought, he had to let you know. Had to let you know you were his home, his safe place, his sanctuary. You were a breeze on a hot summer day, refreshing, well needed and something he craved.

You placed your hands on top of his, taking them in yours. As you took a step back you opened your eyes, looking up at him. Jungkook opened his as well, swallowing hard as he choked on the tears that had started to escape his eyes. You could never do this to him again, never see him again like this, he did not deserve it you thought.

“I don’t want you to. I want you to let me go.” As the words left your mouth, Jungkook did so. His hands left yours and he stepped back. Maybe you did not feel the same way as him, he thought. Maybe something had happened, and you needed some time. Maybe… there was still a chance for the two of you to make it. Finally, be together. 

With this little hope Jungkook had let you go of his grasp. As he opened his eyes and met yours, he realized that was not the truth. The truth was this was it. Your mouth turned into a painful smile as tears left your eyes and you spoke your last words to him.

“Thank you.” He never got the chance to ask you for what or to thank you back as you turned around and left him on the street. He wanted to say thank you back. For all the times you had been there for him. When he did not know how to express himself, never pushing him to explain. Just being there for him whenever he needed someone. Whenever he needed you.

Jungkook could think of anything else the next couple of hours, his body limp, crying into Taehyung’s chest. Thinking about all the times he probably screwed up, leading to you breaking up with him. Was it even a breakup if you never officially dated? It sure as hell felt like it at least. 

He had to see you one last time, he had to change your mind. He needed to tell you how he felt. How much you meant to him. How badly he wanted the two of you together, wherever and whenever that would be. As long as you heard him out… maybe… just maybe… he had a chance at winning you back. Wiping away his tears he told Taehyung he would be back soon, that he had to see you one last time and with that he left his house, on his way to yours. 

As he reached the door and knocked, your mother opened the door.

“Hi, is there anything I could help you with?” She answered and Jungkook smiled at her through the pain and hollowness he was feeling. Your mother recognized his face, but she could not quite place it anywhere. 

“Yeah, is ‘___’ home?” He asked and your mother shook her head.

“I’m afraid not, she left for college an hour ago” Jungkook nodded at your mother and turned around, walking down your doorstep he let out a broken cry. This was it. You were really gone. You wanted nothing to do with him. That was probably why you had been away the last couple of days. You had probably been moving into your new place, Jungkook thought. 

He walked for hours around the town with these thoughts until Hoseok found him sitting on a bench by the river. Jungkook still barely remembers what Hoseok had told him that day. All he remembers is the hollow feeling in his chest, his nose running, eyes swollen, barely being able to breath. Consumed by the sadness you had left with your words, the sadness that he thought would never end. A hole in his soul he did not believe could ever be filled again. 

His first and only love… gone, and there was nothing he could do about it. If he only knew you felt the same, if he only knew how much you loved him too. Maybe he would have confessed sooner, maybe you would have if you would have known. Maybe… this would not have been the end of your first love. 

[purplekiwis]

“From the Dining Table” - Chapter I

Hello everyone, I’ve been enjoying reading your fics a lot, especially now with the whole quarentine thing, they never fail to bring me joy. I thought it would be fun to start writing some myself and that��s why I created this blog. I haven’t written a fic in over 10 years ( I promise I’m not that old, I was just a very imaginative child.) Anyway, I wrote this one based of a dream I had and then I realized it reminded me a lot of Harry’s song, so I just kept on going with the theme. This is a pretty long one, it’s going to be 3 Chapters. Today I’m gonna post the first one, I hope you (whoever you are that’s reading this) enjoy it and I would be super happy to get any feedback from you.❤️

You can read Chapter II here You can read Chapter III here Word Count: 8k Warnings: Angst, Cursing, Sexual References

Summary: Friends to Lovers; Y/N is a graphic designer working at a small studio in London. She lives a pretty ordinary life, considering she also happens to be friends with an internationally known musician. Which is fine... Until she finds herself having to face the feelings she developed for her friend, who's the last person she expected to fall in love with.

Chapter I - The House Party

Today was just another typical Saturday for you. You had just got out of the shower and dressed in your “sleeping clothes” - an old t-Shirt and a pair of incredibly worn out leggings, and cooked something quick for dinner, since all the plans you had for the evening, and for the rest of the weekend were to lay around the house watching movies from your watch-list and trying to keep up with the episodes of your favorite series you had missed out during the week.              

However, as you were browsing through your computer, trying to figure out what Riverdale episode you hadn’t watched yet, your phone vibrated on the bedside table. You let your head fall in your hands with a weary expression, fearing that it might be one of your clients asking for changes in the work you had just delivered 2 hours ago.     You tried your hardest to ignore it, for you had already decided that you were going to save the rest of the afternoon for taking care of yourself... which was a great accomplishment since you gradually and accidentally had become a bit of a workaholic.  

It wasn’t something you were proud of... but you were a proper adult now and that’s just how adultwood is. Suddenly all your friends were busy with their families (can’t relate), their partners (no, can’t relate either) and their jobs (yes, you had one of those now) and you didn’t have much else to keep you entertained, so at least you tried to do something productive with your time.            

Okay, maybe it was possible that you were focusing on work to try not to think about how lonely you actually felt... Especially when you found yourself rubbing your own aching back after spending the whole afternoon sitting at your desk immersed in your work. Secretly wishing somebody else was there with you besides the faces painted in the unfinished artworks laying around your flat... that were yet to be amazing pieces of art one day, according to you.

The only problem was that you couldn’t manage to get yourself to actually finish them, or even to work on them for a couple of hours. Why? You didn’t really know.  

All you knew was that there was no motivaton within you to focus on the things you had once really enjoyed doing. Maybe you were too tired to have a hobby, maybe you were already over those artworks, perhaps you didn’t even like painting anymore...          

The only thing that you knew for sure of was that you had became exactly who you said you would never: A young adult working for a small company with barely any social life, let alone a stable relationship, sharing a tiny apartment with her cat and the ghosts of her past dreams and aspirations.      So I guess by now it’s safe to say that you were definitely focusing on your work to forget about how boring your life had become in the last few months...      Even thought you really didn’t want to look at your phone, your curiosity got a hold of you and you checked it… Only to find a text from your friend Harry. Seeing his name on your phone made your heart skip a beat, as you rolled around in bed so that you could take a better look at it. It had been a while since you spoke to Harry... mostly because he had been busy, and you had been trying to avoid bothering him. Knowing damn well he would probably much rather spend his free time doing something better with his free time, since he was always busy as a bee, jumping between countries and cities whilst working on several projects simultaneously.      

You considered Harry a close friend of yours... even if you didn’t talk all the time and even ghosted each other for months on occasion, until one of you broke the silence with a text or a phone call. This time, it was Harry that texted you first...      

HS: What are you up to?            

You: I was just about to watch Riverdale...          

H.S:  What is that?   

You couldn’t help but to let out a little smile. Sometimes he could still surprise you with how alienated he could be from mundane stuff. You didn’t hold it against him, you knew he had a preference for oldies when it came to the movies and music he actually payed attention to.          

You decided not to bug him about it, since you were far more interested in figuring out why he was randomly texting you at 9PM on a Saturday.          

You : It’s just a gross teen show. What about you?          

H.S: Aren’t you a bit too old for teen shows? I’m home. Been here for a couple of days, actually.

You felt a little hurt knowing that he had been home for a while and was only letting you know now, since you were usually one of the first people he wanted to see after spending long periods of time away, even if it was just to come watch the telly and catch up over bags of take-away food. You shook off the uneasy feeling. After all it wasn’t like he owed you his free time... For all you knew, he could’ve been catching up with his other friends or even have someone far more entertaining over his house.  

You : Aren’t you a bit too young to be such a grandpa?

H.S : Good news is that grandpa might actually have better plans for your night.            

You felt your cheeks warm as a fuzzy feeling started in your stomach. You noticed you had been smiling at your phone whilst thinking of what his plans could be, and when you finally got back to reality your cat was blankely staring at you, making you feel aware of how stupid you must have been looking. “What? You know it’s not like that!” You exclaimed to your cat, getting a little embarassed by your own mushy thoughts.            

Before you could answer his text he sent you another one.        

H.S: Would you like to accompany me to this thing i have?        You sat straight in your bed, but almost immidiately got up to check yourself in the mirror. Yikes, you thought. There’s no way i’m going anywhere with a face like this... In the deepest, darkest part of your brain, you added: Especially not with him.             You: What thing?

H.S: It’s just a boring house party. Please come!!! I need someone to talk to.   

You: If you want to convince me, maybe you should consider rethinking your use of adjectives. I’m sure you do... just like all the other parties, right? 🙄         

H.S: Sorry, I meant AMAZING party!!! 😊  Also, it’s not my fault everyone likes to talk to me.     You : It is. You’re too nice to them.                     

H.S: That’s why i need you to scare them away with your moody face! Are you coming? I already asked Claire to save you seat in the car.          

You looked at yourself in the mirror, kinda wishing you had known earlier because you really looked and felt too tired (and ugly, might you add) to get out of the house. Especially to go to a party where you probably knew like, 3 people in real life besides Harry. Besides, you already knew that you would feel a bit out of place there...   Because no matter how hard Harry and his friends tried to make you feel included, there was always this feeling you felt... Like everyone else was judging every single thing you did. The clothes you were wearing, the way you acted with your friends, how much booze you drinked, how many crab cakes you ate, and even how much you talked, or didn’t talk... Going to these parties had undoubtedly showed you how cold and indifferent people could be about other people’s complete existence as soon as they realized they didn’t come from the entertainment industry...           Harry had tried to explain to you that they didn’t flat out dislike you... It was just that they liked to test the waters before jumping into a friendship with someone from outside the industry, since most of them had already been through bad experiences when it came to that topic.

Y/N had never really ate that one up, but she decided it wasn’t worth the fuss of sharing her opinion out loud. She still remebered the first event she attended to with Harry, and how he and his friends had tried to give her advise on what she should and shouldn’t do... Something she hadn’t taken very well at the time, because it wasn’t like she didn’t know how to behave herself at a party just for being considered an “outsider”. She had been to lots of parties. Smaller ones, yes. With cheaper beverage options and far unhealthier selections of finger foods she could nibble guiltlessly on, but they were still parties nonetheless...          

Luckily for you, people were starting to get used to your occasional presence at their informal house events, and you managed to get along with the majority of Harry’s mates as well, what made you feel a little more confortable... However you still always got a bit nervous before going, especially when you hadn’t seen everyone in a while, which was the case that time around...

You : I feel like i could fall asleep at any given moment, so i think i’ll have to pass this one out 😔 but maybe tomorrow we could do something?      

He took a while to reply, making you wonder if he got upset at you for not wanting to go, or if he was already asking another one of his friends if they would like to go in your place... You didn’t know what option you liked the best.    Eventually, you got tired of holding your phone so you put it down, a little too harshly, what made your cat tremble with the noise. “Sorry Tilly.” You whispered, as your pet got up and curled up in your lap, while you petted her gently behind her ears. “Maybe it’s better this way… right?” You asked, mostly to yourself.         

Suddently you heard your phone ringing. Harry was calling you. You got up in a jump and grabbed the phone, what led to an unpleasant scratch from Tilly in your thigh. Before picking up, you stared at the screen for a few seconds, just so he didn’t think you were impatiently waiting for his reply. Yes, you were petty like that sometimes.              

“Hey!”               

“Hello loser!” The raspyness of his voice caught you by surprise, making you shiver. You’d almost forgot how good it sounded.      

“No one uses that word anymore.”      

“Who cares?” “Good point. Hm, listen… I hope you’re not mad at me for not going...”       “What? You really thought I was gonna give up on you that easily?”     “Oh, stop it! I’m not going! Besides, even if I wanted to go, what would I wear? I literally have like ze-” You stopped your rambling, realizing he was singing something to you over the phone, you didn’t recognize it at first, but then you realized where it was from.     

“You're a mean one Mr. Grinch.               You really are a heeeel…               You're as cuddly as a cactus!       You're as charming as an eel! Mr. Griiiinch… You're a bad banana with a… Greasy black peeeeel!”      

It was a song from the last movie you had seen together when he had came home for the holidays. How The Grinch Stole Christmas. He was singing it to mock you by your choice of words, that reminded him of a particular scene of the movie. The way he was messing up the song with his gibberish made you laugh. Eventually both your laughs and his singing faded, leaving you with a huge smile on your face. “You’re an idiot, you know that?” You asked.           

“Well, thank you. Now... As a way of thanking me for my… astonishing performace, you must come party with us.”        

“You’ve got some nerve coming at me with that crap after you’ve abandoned me for... how long was it again? two months?”

“Hey... I’m trying to redeem myself here!”             “Good! As you should.”            

“Is that a yes? Please...? You’re not going to say no to me, are you?”   

“It’s a maybe... a highy dependant on me finding something to wear type of maybe. First of all, is it like…fancy?”      

“Hmm, not really… I think!? You never really know with these parties.”              

“Trust me, I’m aware.” There was a brief silent pause on Harry’s side of the phone, as you as you rummaged through your clothes. “What are you going to wear anyway?”  

“Don’t know yet. Probably like, some pants… boots… and a shirt?”         Harry’s vague description didn't help whatsoever, but you were far too busy trying to disenchant a decent outfit to make light of his words. “Okay!” There was a lot of shuffling from your side, making his eyebrows furrow on the other side the line, despite your lack of knowledge. “I think I may have just found my nice pants, but I don’t know if I have a nice blouse that goes with them... or one that is fitted for the occasion. Why am I so boring with my clothes? I need to invest in a better wardrobe asap…” “You can always come by mine and borrow a shirt… Ya know, If you don’t want to stand out too much.”

“Not standing out by wearing your clothes? Now that’s funny!”               “I’m sure you’ll find something wearable...”      

“Are you serious? You would let me borrow your clothes?”        

“Sure. If you want to.”  

“I don’t know… I’m scared I’ll rip them or something.”                       

“I mean, I like my clothes... but it’s not like I would kill you or myself if something bad happened to them.” “You’re so humble and reasonable Mr. Styles… How did you stay like that?” You could hear him briefelly laugh at your provocation. “I’m serious! besides, I secretly always want to know how my clothes fit on different people.”

“I’m not trying to spoil it for you but probably not that good... Mostly because I’m female shaped so they won’t fit me properly… Also, I’m not sure if you’re aware but you have this gift-”     “Oh, shut up! You can pull anything off.” He cut you off before you could either compliment him or put yourself down. “As long as you love it.” “We’ll see about that.” You challenged, noticeably way less hopeful than he was. “I’ll see you in… an hour and half? Is that a good time?”             

“Do you want me to ask someone to pick you up?”               “I’m good, thank you...” You answered, wasting little time mulling over your friend’s proposal. “But I would happily accept a parking spot in your garage…” You added suggestively, knowing he wouldn’t say no. “Sure! Anything for you.”           “Thank you!”   “You’re very welcome.”               “Okay, well... I better go and get ready now or I’m going to show up late.”   “Alright, I need to go get ready as well. See you soon. Drive safe!”           “Always do.” It took you a bit more than na hour to get ready, what meant you were already running a little late, since Harry’s house was more than half an hour drive away.  

You were wearing one of your favorite “going out” pants, they were black, high-waisted, carrot fitted and overwhelmingly confortable. You went for other one of your favorite pieces - a yellow silk blouse, just in case you ended up not fitting properly in any of Harry’s shirts.

You paired your outfit with oval style ankle boots you’d just recently acquired. I already know I’m going to regret this decision, you thought whilst putting them on.            

You had also decided to change into a matching set of lingerie just because you never know what can happen, right? and also partially because you knew you’d be changing at Harry’s, and god forbid he actually saw anything but if he did, at least it wouldn’t be your granny underwear. You put on a neutral makeup look, throwing a couple of lipsticks into your purse, just so you could decide which one to wear depending on the color of the shirt.             Finally, you put on a bit of perfume and grabbed your jacket, taking a final look in the mirror, staring at yourself from different angles. “I guess that’s about as good as it’s gonna get.” You mumbled to your reflection.           

Before leaving the house, you kissed and petted your cat goodbye, however she didn’t respond to your affection since she was already asleep on top of the clothes you had just carelessly thrown on top of the bed.      

You got in your car and drove off, thirty four minutes later you were turning into Harry’s street and stopping the car in front of the condominium’s gate.You took your phone out of your purse and rang him, he picked up almost immediately.

“You’re here?” “Yeah, I’m already at the gate.”               “Okay, let me open it for you and I’ll be down in a second.”         “Okay, thank you.” The call dropped and the large metal gate started to move, you slowly drove your way into the condo, trying to remember where the entrance to his garage was.          

You didn’t have to think too hard, because a few seconds later one of the garage doors started to open and you could see a pair of impecable black leather boots that merged with the bottom of burgundy flares. Yup, no need for more searching, You thought.          

You stopped the car, waiting for the gate to fully open for what seemed like an eternity, but it gave you time to fully appreciate the man that was slowly revealing himself in front of you.

You could start to see his top half now, he was wearing a simple white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, uncovering his tattooed arms. The top buttons were undone, exposing the cross necklace he always wore, he was also wearing another necklace you hadn’t seen before, his hands were hidden in his pockets, but you already knew that they would be adorned with multiple rings of all shapes and sizes. What a show off, was the tought that came to mind once his whole outfit was revealed, but you had to admit that you wouldn’t have him any other way...   

Finally his head showed up, and he was wearing a big smile on his face.

“Hey you! Better hurry up before this thing closes on you.” You were so lost in his smile that you accidentally let your car die, but you were quick to start it again and as he walked aside you pulled into the garage.           

When you finished parking, you got out of the car, being immediately greeted by Harry’s arms that wrapped you in a tight hug. You couldn’t help but to close your eyes to fully enjoy the moment. He smelled like his characteristic cologne, but since your head was pressed against his shoulder, you could also smell the fabric softner on his shirt and his deodorant.  

“You smell nice.” You mumbled under your breath.   “So do you.” He replied swiftly, resting his chin on the top of your head.          He walked you to the elevator and you went up to his apartment. After many minutes of catching up in the living room he led you to his bedroom, where his closet was. “It’s a bit messy in here, I’ve been meaning to organize it, but I haven’t really had the time.” The boy said before opening its door.

You tried not to look mesmerized by the amount of clothing in front of you, because you knew that one of the things Harry hated the most was when people perceived him as shallow or vain. Luckily, most people could tell straight away that his love for fashion had a greater meaning for him than to just look nice... And even when they didn’t, it only took them about seconds of conversation with him to realize how much of a ducky and kind person he truly was. Also, fairly recently he had been getting a lot of praise for his bold fashion choices, what led to a bit of over enthusiasm from his main stylists’s part and himself when it came to investing in it.  

“I promise I actually wear most of these...” He justified himself, noticing the enthralled expression you genuinely believed you were managing to disguise.

“Oh, don’t mind me!” You giggled. “I’m just slightly overwhelmed by the number of choices before me.”         “Well, take all the time you need.” Harry smiled, sitting over the edge of his bed and unlocking his phone to check the time. It was already past midnight.  As you finally gained courage to start going through his clothes, he let his back fall on the bedspread with a sigh and stared at the ceiling, and that’s when you decided you couldn’t possibly not try to mess with him a little bit. “Stupid… Ugly… Out of date…” (Reference (01:20-01:24)              

“Hey! Stop it, will you?!” He sat up again, supporting his upper body with his elbows that rested firmly on his lap. “Have you found my dress yet?” 

You peeked through the open closet to with a curious expression on your face. “No… Where is it?” you asked, disappearing behind the door and enthusiastically searching his closet for the item, suddently grabbing something that kinda looked like a dress, yet kinda looked like a curtain.           “Is this it?” You asked, stepping out of the closet, holding the hanger in front of you.               

“It’s not a dress, it’s a kilt... Sicko!”  (Reference (01:13-01:18)          

“Really? You had that one coming for a long time didn’t you?” You disdainfully smiled, shaking your head in disapproval. You could tell from his little smirk that he was proud of successfully tricking you into his joke. “Yeah, I was hoping you would find it and ask about it, but you didn’t so I had to find a way to deliver the line anyway.”            

“Okay, but for real why do you have a wedding dress in your closet?” You turned the hanger to see the strange garment from the front.            

“Cause I’m cool like that.”        

“You know what? It’s actually not as ugly as it seemed at first sight...”    

“Well, I would hope so ‘cause it was bloody expensive.” At the sound of his words you were quick to carefully hang it back in it’s place, gently rubbing the fabric to avoid any crinkles.

You kept looking through his clothes and ended up finding a almost sheer shirt that you liked. It was rusty orange with a psychadelic flower pattern that looked quite unique. Taking advantage of the fact that Harry was laying down and distracted on his phone and freed yourself of your blouse in a swift motion, trying on his shirt on as fast as you could. It fitted you quite nicely to your surprise.               “So, have you found anything you like yet?” Your friend asked, with his eyes still stuck on his phone.

“Actually yes, but I could use your help… How would you style this?”  He sat up again and focused his attention on you. “How come you end up finding the one shirt I don’t actually remember owning?” 

He admired you from the bed, letting is head fall to the side a bit, you could feel his eyes stuck on your figure, what made you feel a bit unconfortable and insecure about your body. His expression changed as he got up and walked towards you, making a little circle around you and finally stopping right in front of you. “May I?” He asked, reaching for the shirt.        

“Yeah, go ahead.” You lifted your arms slightly so they wouldn’t get on his way. Carefully, he started adjusting the shirt, slipping it inside your pants and gently pulling it out, until it fell down in a natural way.      

You could feel the warmth of his hands on your skin through the fabric, what caused your breathing to get a little heavy and out of your throat came a peculiar husky sound. Luckily, he was so focused on what he was doing that he didn’t even acknowledged it.    

Feeling a bit flustered due to his proximity, you decided to break the silence.     “You look so different now that you cut your hair…”      

“Well, isn’t that kind of the point of changing your hair? Why are you complaining? Do you not find me cute anymore?”  “Who lied to you and told you I ever thought you were cute?” Harry looked up at you with disdainful expression once his green eyes met yours. You could feel your cheeks getting warmer by the second. “Well you’re wrong because I am, in fact, very attractive.” He looked down again and undid one of the buttons of the shirt, what left a bit of the black lace of your bra showing. “What are you doing?” You asked in a startled tone. “Just trust me.”               “Umm… Fine, I guess.” You shrugged as he stepped back to admire his work. His focused expression broke into a proud smile as he moved to the side, uncovering the mirror just so you could see yourself. You looked hot, there’s no other way to put it. The color of the shirt complimented your skin tone beautifully, as well as the golden necklace that fell over your chest in a sensual way, capturing attention to your stripped neckline. “You look cuter than me, I can't have that... Come on, we’re switching. Take it off, now.”  Your handsome friend complained in a frisky tone, grabbing at the hem of his shirt as if he was about to pull it off. “I could never…” You challenged, feeling quite shy after his compliment. “Well, apparently you can.” “You look amazing though...” You complimented back. “Love the pants.” “Really? I think they make my ass look weird sometimes.” The boy confessed, turning around so you could check his bottoms. “I think your ass’s great.” You kind of regretted the conviction you uttered that sentence with. “I mean… in those pants.”

Harry sighed playfully. “I was enjoying the compliment, why did you have to ruin it?” 

“Fine, you can take the compliment then.” You granted easily. “Shouldn’t we get going? I’m sure it’s pretty late already…” “Ready?”           “Yes, let me just…” You ran to your purse, picking one of the lipsticks you had brought with you, applying it in front of the mirror while the charming man shoved his essential belongings into the pockets of his matching blazer and put it on, completing the look.       You noticed he was observing you with curiosity as you tinted your lips in a dark shade of brick orange. “Let’s go missy.” The boy rushed as you locked eyes with him through the mirror.   **

Even though you offered to drive to Claire’s house, he insisted on taking his car because he hadn’t driven in a while and wanted to before he got “rusty”.  As he was driving, you inquired him about who was hosting the party you were going to, since all he’d told you was that you were meeting your friends at Clare’s house and from there you would share a car, so that the whole group would get there together.          

To your surprise, when faced with your question he got quiet and you noticed his expression changing, he briefely took his eyes off the road to look at you and you could practically see the guilt in this face. “What is it?” You asked, wondering what he could be acting so weird about.  

“Hum yeah, about that…” He began to stammer, keeping his eyes stuck to the road.          

“Just tell me it’s not what I think it is.”    “Before you say anything, I know you’ll probably want to kill me right now…”   “Harry!”         “I knew you wouldn’t have come if I told you... It’s going to be fun, I promise! She’s not as bad as you think she is.”         “No Harry!” You fretted. “You know what? Just stop the car, I want to go home.”         

“Well, I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.”  

“I’m not kidding Harry.”               “I’m not dropping you off in the middle of the fucking freeway.”              

“Yes you are!” “No, I’m not.”   He kept driving and you let your body slip through the seat, crossing your arms in silence, resenting him for almost five minutes while he tried to convince you of how Alexa was way nicer than you thought and that she wasn’t really a bitch, it was just that her sense of humor could be a little off-putting sometimes. The way he was defending her made you feel even angrier, even though you weren’t really listening.               

In your head all you could think about was all the times you had the unpleasant surprise of bumping into Alexa. She was such a bitch! Always finding a way to put you down and make you feel embarassed. She even came up with a stupid nickname for you at Harry’s birthday party that she always made sure to use, even though she must’ve known you hated it.       “Just so you know, when we get to Claire’s I’m getting a cab and going home.” 

“Fine.” He jerked his shoulders dismissively. “If you want to miss out on a great time with our friends, it’s up to you.”             “When she’s there it’s never really a good time for me so I guess I’m good.”       “Come on…” Harry huffed, shifting his gaze off to road for a moment to check on his muddled friend. “Everyone was so excited to see you...”             You were mad that he lied to you, but you were madder that you had gotten all dressed up and now you weren’t going. You also missed your mutual friends and hanging out with them. You kept weighting the pros and the cons throughout the rest of the drive, and when you got to Claire’s house, after a little convincing from the group, you decided you were not going to let the fact that it was Alexa’s party ruin the night for you.        

You were still mad at Harry though. And having to go on another car trip with him, feeling his body pressing up against yours whenever there was a turnabout, wasn’t making it easy for you to keep your cool.              

As you finally got to Alexa’s house you could tell the house was packed by the number of cars parked outside, making you feel relieved you had a driver, because if you had to find a place to park it would’ve been a nightmare.        

There was a group of people lining up, and as you got closer you noticed two men by the door checking for the guests names on a list. You started to get worried that your friends might have omitted to Alexa that you were going, since you were almost certain that your presence wouldn’t please her any better than it did to you. You eyed their faces, looking for any sign of concern, however they seemed calm.

As you walked the line, you started to get more and more nervous, ending up momentarily swallowing your pride and pulling at Harry’s sleeve, in hopes of getting his attention without the rest of the group noticing. “Does Alexa know I’m coming to her party?” You asked as quietly as you could.    

“Of course she does! I told her myself.”

“What did she say?”    

He didn’t get to answer your question because he was approached by the doorkeeper, that asked him for his name. Harry politely greeted him before answering his question and being such a gentleman, he provided the names of the other members of the group.

The doorkeeper checked the names on the list and to your surprise your name was actually there. He allowed the group to get inside. All of you murmuring a brief “thank you” as you walked past the big guy.              

The door led to a giant lounge style living room, that seemed to be where the focus of the party was. To your right, there were three big windows, each with it’s own balcony, where small groups of people gathered to enjoy a smoke and the beautiful view of the city. In the middle of the room there was an open dance space, demarked by an enormous persian carpet, that was still pretty empty despite the fact the DJ was already playing.        

Behind the dance area there were two long tables, practically stuffed with different types of alcoholic beverages. It had to be one of the most diverse open bars you had ever seen at a house party.          From the ceiling fell party ribbons and lights, and the walls were adorned with baloons and paper decorations. You tried to decipher the color of the objects around you, but it was almost impossible due to the color changing lights that provided an hallucinogenic athmosphere to the space.

You looked around, trying to familiarize yourself with your surroundings. As your eyes scanned the place, they found couple of familiar faces, but they froze at a well-known face in the kitchen.        

There was Alexa… She was sitting over the counter, scrolling on her phone. Her glossy lips rested on the edge of the paper cup she was holding. The light from the screen illuminated her face, making her glittery eyeshadow pop behind the thick lashes that she was wearing. She was dressed in a two-toned metallic mini dress and knee-high platform boots. You could tell from her expression that she was distressed about something. Her stillness gave you the opportunity to study her face. Her features were quite angelical, something you had never noticed before.

The sound of something scattering on the kitchen floor woke her up from her daydream as she turned around to curse at whoever opened the kitchen cabinet. Yup, there’s the bitch, You mused to yourself.            

She jumped off the counter and walked out of the kitchen, making her way around the groups of people that were chattering by the door. She walked around the living room, trying to greet the people she hadn’t seen yet.

Your eyes briefly met hers before she approached your friends. They went for a group hug, in which you didn’t participate. Instead, you awkwardly stared at them while they hugged and chatted. Harry looked back at you, encouraging you to join them with an eye motion, you let out a sigh and moved closer to the group, what caught Alexa’s attention. “Hi Nutmeg! I haven’t seen you in a hot minute…” She greeted you by kissing the air next to your cheek, before looking you up and down. “I see you’ve upgraded your closet... It was about time.” The beautiful girl remarked, focusing her attention on the shirt you were wearing.        

You found yourself side-eyeing Harry, trying your hardest to ignore her taunting words. “I swear I’ve seen that somewhere... what brand is it?” Her question startled you. Prompting your head to tilt towards Harry, realizing he had mirrored the gesture to stare at you. You stood there staring at each other, both of you wishing you could read his mind. “Is there something I’m missing?” Alexa questioned, suspicious of your odd behaviour.          

“No, not at all!” Harry was quick to intervene. “I’m gonna go for a drink, anyone wants to join me?” He suggested, clearly attempting to brush off the topic.        

“I’ll go get the drinks.” You volunteered, taking the chance to escape and ditch Alexa’s question.

“Will you get me some jack and coke?” The girl requested, handing you her freshly empty cup. “Thanks.” She added when you grabbed it from her hand. It was probably the only time you actually felt pleased to fix Alexa a drink. “Harry, what do you want?” You called his attention back to you, upon realizing he was already engaged into conversation with someone you didn’t know.            

“Double Tequila, please.” You raised your brows at his choice of beverage. Already knowing that when he started the night with Tequila he would, most likely, end up drunk out of his mind. But you didn’t bother to try to coarce him into switching to something else. “Do you need an extra hand?” He offered out of politeness.        

“It’s fine, I’m sure I can handle it.” You spat as you left, not wanting to interrupt his conversation again.   

As the night went on, people started to gather mainly around the dance space, that was proving itself to be a little too small for the large amount of people using it. You were having a good time, but you were definitely not enjoying the feeling of getting rubbed all over by everyone around you. Harry, on the other hand, didn’t seem bothered whatsoever. And as you predicted, he was already pretty out of it, prancing around the place and carelessly engaging into conversation with everyone who approached him, including people you knew he shit talked behind their back... The fake little bitch...       

You tried not to care, but you couldn’t keep yourself from constantly checking on him to see what he was up to. You weren’t the only one who couldn’t keep your eyes away from him.. What wasn’t unnusual, since he was such a natural attention-grabber. Howbeit, there were several girls and boys that were practically drooling at the sight of him. That wasn’t new either, but it didn’t make it any less annoying...        

When the boy finally made his way back to the group, he tried to convince you to dance with him by grabbing your hand and making you spin for him. You graciously brushed him off. Mostly out of shyness, persuading him into asking your friend John instead. He agreed on the spot... And once he finally managed to get his friend to bend at his will, they got everyone laughing and cheering, encouraging them to keep up with the tango dance moves. But it wasn’t long until the two boys had enough of the attention, laughing it off and joining the group again.          

Then a figure rose above the crowd. It was Alexa, who has just stood up on a table holding a microphone in her hand that she was slowly tapping on, attempting to grab everyone’s attention. “Hello, hello, hello my magnificent friends. How is everyone feeling tonight?” She asked, earning a loud cheer from the crowd, that she encouraged by clapping silently before speaking again. “Alright, alright... can y’all can shut the fuck up now? …I just wanted to say that I hope everyone is getting drunk and having a great time. You know me, I gotta be real with you… There are some people here I’d much rather had stayed home, but you know what? You don’t really bother me.” The girl shrugged haughtily. “With that said, I’d like to propose a toast to every single one of you motherfuckers that came to my party. Cheers, bitches!” She yelled the last two words, emptying her cup in a single swig while the crowd cheered and downed their own cups along with the host.

The fact that Alexa let you in had given you the impression that maybe Harry was right about her, but her speech left a bad taste in your mouth and made you wonder if you were one of the people she was talking about, you were almost certain you were. “What did you say earlier about her being a nice person?” You ironically asked Harry, that was standing right beside you.        

Your eyes were still stuck on her as you wondered if she would manage to get down from the table without falling. You secretly hoped she wouldn’t.            

He failed to answer your question, so you turned to him. Only to realize that he wasn’t there anymore. Your eyes quickly danced around the room, searching for your missing friend, and unfortunatly it wasn’t long until they found him...  

Your whole body went cold, feeling your heart sink in your chest. Your vision felt blurry, and there was a complicated knot forming at the tip of your stomach. There he was. Barely six feet away from you. With his back flush against a wall and his lips pressed harshly on somebody else’s. His hands gently caressed up the other boy’s back, that had his hands firmly clutched onto your friend’s hair and the back of his neck.            

You felt like your whole world was crashing down in front of you.            

Whilst everyone around you was enjoying themselves, all you wanted to do was collapse to your knees and scream your confusing pain away, but you couldn’t. There was nothing you could do and it just fucking hurt.            

You’d always known it would eventually happen... But nothing could ever prepare you for the feeling of watching the person you love fondling somebody else.    

In the middle of your agony, you noticed a pair of hazel eyes staring right at you from distance, breaking your attention from the heartbreaking scene. “Yo... What the fuck?!” You couldn’t hear her words, but you could read them clearly through the motion of her lips. She looked completely baffled by the state of you.

You stepped back, attempting your best to muffle into the crowd, but it was too late... You were certain she’d saw the devastated look on your face, and the glistening tear that rolled down your cheek afterwards.

You turned your back on the scene and pushed through the crowd, hidding your face as you stumbled upon almost everyone on your way to the bathroom. You locked yourself inside and leaned against the door, finally letting it all out as you sobbed uncontrollably and allowed for your body to slide down the surface, until your knees met the cold marble floor.    

A unexpected loud banging on the door startled you. “It’s occupied.” Y/N shouted, in the most composed voice she could fabricate.  

“It’s Alexa... open the door.” The girl shouted back impatiently.    

“Fuck off Alexa!” You could feel your blood boil and your hands trembling at the mere sound of her voice. “Just leave me alone, will you?”

There was silence for a moment, before she banged on the door harder. You tried to ignore it because considering your state, at the slighest provocation you’d probably lose it and punch her in the face. “Don’t be a fucking bitch, I’m here to help.” Alexa shouted again, but it was pointless. “Okay, fine. I guess I’ll have to ask someone to kick the door down...”

“Don’t you fucking dare.”          

“It’s my house. What are you going to do about it?” She challenged, knowing you couldn’t fight her on that. “You have three seconds… one...two…” You flang the door open before she could finish her countdown, causing her to tremble ever so slightly. “Quite the charm, aren’t you?” She sighed satirically, making her way inside the bathroom while fixing her dress. You noticed she was holding a bottle of Bacardi rum, that she promptly opened and handed to you. You stood there perplexedly looking at her, trying to figure out what her intentions were. “Are you going to take it or not?” At that, you abruptly grabbed the bottle from her hand and took it to your lips, taking a big chug and giving it back with a disgusted expression caused by the intense alcohol sting. Alexa took the bottle to her lips as well, but unlike you, her face didn’t even flinch. “What did you come here for?” The sharpness of your tone led her into giving you a dirty look “What do you think? That I came in here to make fun of you?”            

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you did.”     “Just thought you could use a friend...” She explained, jumping on her bum to sit on the countertop. “And luckily for you, so do I.”  

“Judging by the number of people outside, I’m sure you have plenty of friends.”  

She let out a silent wheeze at your guess. “Everything isn’t always what it seems, Nutmeg… I have people that keep me company, but when it comes down to the real shit, I have no one I can count with really…”        

“I’m finding that quite hard to believe if I’m honest…”               “I know you are. So is everyone else. They all assume my life is just perfect. After all, I have everything, don’t I? I don’t blame them... I know I can be cruel and bitter sometimes, but I’m not the cold-hearted, super confident bitch everyone thinks that I am.”   “Why are you telling me all that?”          

“I don’t know… Maybe ‘cause I’m drunk and lonely and you’re one of the few people here that I actually like…” You couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. “You’re messing with me, right?”  She, on the other hand, seemed rather confused by your apprehensiveness. “I appreciate people like you... Who manage to stay true to themselves despite hanging out with these people. It’s so easy to lose yourself in this environment... But I don’t think you did, and I can appreciate that.”  

“I’m just lucky to have good friends... If they were different, I don’t know if I’d stayed so nice and humble.”      

As the silence settled, you took the chance to sit down on the edge of her expensive looking bathtub. “So… changing the subject. You and Harry, what’s the deal?”  

“What do you mean?” You pretended you didn’t know what she was implying, hoping she would let go of the topic.

“I’m not stupid. I saw the way you looked when he was all over that guy… I confess I had no idea that you were into him. I thought you liked girls, I could almost swear he had told me that.” Her words made your stomach twist, and Alexa didn’t miss your distressed expression. “Sorry... I’m not very good with words. I didn’t mean to make it worse.” The girl added, trying to make up for her cold stance. “Here...” She handed you back the bottle, and you agreeably to a swig from it. “Does he know?”

“I don’t think so...”   “I don’t mean to be unpleasant but I think he thinks you’re a lesbian.”   “Yeah, I know…  he’s not completely wrong, I guess.”     “So, you’re bi?”               “I don’t really know what I am.”               “Oh, it’s okay. You don’t have to be anything, you can just be… yourself!” You locked eyes with her, briefely smiling at her motivational words “How long have you fancied him for?”

“I don’t know...” You stared down at your own feet. “Thinking back, I guess I always kind of have... but it’s complicated. So I just hoped it would go away with time... Besides, you’ve seen the people he gets with. They’re all gorgeous, and I... I mean, I don’t really meet the standards, do I?”         “And how’s that working out for you?” You went quiet, since you didn’t really have a good answer to give. “Okay, here’s what I think you should do. First of all, you gotta stop with the self loathing. It’s depressing and outdated. You’re just as valid as everyone else.”

“It’s not self loathing. You don’t understand… What if he pushes me away? I really care for our friendship and I don’t want to throw it all away because of a stupid crush.”     “A stupid crush? Didn’t you just say you’ve always liked him? How long have you known eachother for? Three years?”   “Well… Two and half, but it’s not like I’ve been waiting for him… I’ve had my fair share of relationships and so did he, I never did anything to change that. Why would I start now?”       “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re at a party, locked inside a bathroom, crying over him, while he’s out there screwing somebody else.”           “God, you’re certainly are awful with words aren’t you?”             “I take pride in my honesty.” She stated. “Look, all I can say is that I think this whole “crush” situation is, obviously, far more than a crush... And you know I’m right so don’t even bother to deny it. Therefore, I think it’s long overdue that you do something about how you feel, otherwise you’re just gonna be stuck wondering on the what ifs forever, watching him live his life while you’re unable to move on with your yours, and you deserve better than that. Anyone deserves better than that.”       “It’s just… scary.”   “Isn’t everything worth trying always somewhat scary at first?”   You ended up spending the rest of the night with Alexa. Sitting inside her large empty bathtub, sharing your shittiest life experiences and drowning your sorrows with the bottle of rum. She told you about her crazy ex-boyfriend, and how he had been making her life a living hell since their break up. Showing up uninvited at her work, her parties, and practically everywhere she went, despite her telling him time and time again to stop and leave her alone. You advised her the best you could, but as you expected, she was pretty stubborn and acted as if she had everything under control, even though she clearly did not. The night had taken a unexpected turn for you, however, at least there was something positive you could also take from it, that being the friendship that was beggining to fluorish between you and Alexa. 

You were so deep in conversation that you completely lost track of time, so much that you finally felt tired and decided to check you phone for the time, it was already 6AM.

You had seven missed calls and fifteen text messages from your friends asking where you were, if you were okay and if you were still leaving with them. You realized they had probably already left, so you just apologized for leaving early and informed them that you were fine. When you and Alexa got out of the bathroom, there were still a couple of people hanging around, but as expected, the vast majority had already left.         

The light coming from the windows hurt your tired eyes and your bottom half was hurting from spending so many hours sitting inside a bathtub. By that time, all you wanted to do was go home, take a shower and take a nap to make up for the all nighter you pulled, but then you remembered…      

“Shit!”

“What?”

“I left my car at Harry’s house.”              

I hope you’re enjoying it so far! Chapter II is hereeee!

[cyberdva]

Trick Or Treat- Richie Tozier X Reader (Imagine☆)

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Summary- The reader and The Losers Club decide to go Trick Or Treating, while Richie tries to continuously flirt with Y/N. The rest of their friends are fed up with Richie’s banter and try to get the two together with a bit of help from each other. Just their luck Richie had already done the job for them.

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Main Masterlist

IT Masterlist

Word Count: 2k

Date Uploaded: 10/30/19

Pairing: Richie Tozier x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: Halloween is tomorrow, so why not bless ourselves with a poorly written Richie fic. 

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“Hey Eds, what the hell are you supposed to be?” Richie bolted out his front door running to meet up with his short friend who was inconveniently covered in toilet paper.

He shot his friend a glare, “I’m supposed to be a mummy, you think my mom would let me be anything else.”

Richie laughed, “Aw, your mommy picked out your costume again.” He made a kissy face and inched towards Eddie. The other boy jumped away.

“What the fuck are you even supposed to be anyways?”

Richie pulled his cape under his eyes and hissed, “I’m a vampire, it’s completely obvious Eds.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “What are you going to do? Bite Y/N?”

Richie went even paler under his white makeup, Eddie was one of the only people who knew about Richie’s enormous crush on Y/N.’

“That shut you up,” he mumbled. Just in time, Stan met up with the two bantering boys, his face had makeup with cold dark eyes and light green skin, a zombie.

“Are you guys fighting again?” Stanley tried his best to remain neutral in these arguments, even though they make no sense. 

“Richie is talking about how much he loves-“ Richie slammed Eddie’s mouth shut. Only muffled shouts could be heard. 

Stanley looked around for Bill and tried to stay involved in the conversation, ”Wow, Richie has a crush. What a shocker.” The two boys were barely paying attention as they fought in the background. Eddie ended up winning and vigorously tried to wipe off any germs that Richie has left on his mouth. Beverly came up behind the disheveled ‘mummy’ and jumped on his shoulders. It resulted in a shrieking sound, Eddie was just about to head home if Bill didn’t show up moments later. 

Beverly has decided to dress up as a cat, a normal costume for someone her age, and Bill dressed up as Marty McFly. He was late on the trend but hadn’t gotten the chance to dress up like him before. 

Ben came wandering up the street and sat next to Beverley on a half-empty bench, Bill took notice. He was dressed as one of the New Kids On The Block, which highly amused Beverly. 

“Where’s Mike and Y/N?” Bill wanted to get the show on the road and stay near Beverly as much as he could. There were so many houses to explore and so little time with the dumb curfew in place. 

Beverly sat down on the grass, “Mike said he was meeting Y/N at her place, they should be here any minute.”

“Since when do they hang out alone?” asked Richie. 

“Why do you ask Richie, are you jealous?” Eddie snickered at the confused boy. 

“Am not!”

“Yes, you are.”

“Eddie you know wha-“

Mike cut both of them off, “Sorry we’re late, Y/N wanted to make sure she had everything ready.” The whole group relapsed when they saw her costume, a makeshift clown, that looked a tad-bit like Pennywise, stood in front of them. Mike was dressed as Doc from Back To The Future to match Bill. All of them had exceptional costumes, except for Eddie. 

“Eddie, what are you wearing?” was the first thing to come out of Y/N mouth. 

“See even she agrees with me that your costume sucks!” Richie gaped. 

She frowned, “I didn’t say that I just want to know why he’s covered in toilet paper.”

“Well, you meant it.”

“Yeah, I did.”

Eddie let out a huff, “Are we going to get candy or not.”

The sun had already set and the already cold temperature began to drop even lower. It was only 7 and that didn’t leave much time until 10. The day before everyone tried to map out what houses would be the best to go to, but it ended up with Richie scribbling all over the paper and Bill lecturing him on proper behavior, exciting isn’t it. They ended up scrapping the map and just running around through town. 

“How about we start by Main Street and make our way to Jackson?” Mike had the best sense of direction out of all of the Losers, a natural talent he developed while bucking through town. 

Stan nodded, “That sounds like a good plan.” They all made their way up the street, separating into their smaller groups. Eddie, Richie, and Y/N held up the back, mostly joking about Eddie’s trashy outfit. Beverly and Bill decided to lead all of them, flashlights in hand, discussing some leftover English homework. The middle has a mix of Ben, Stan, and Mike as they chatted about which house had the most candy. 

The streets began to quickly fill with smaller children. Really no one in their grade had decided to go out for candy, a party had been the main focus for the high school students. As per usual, none of the nine kids had been invited, they didn’t even know of the event, better that they didn’t. All they hoped was that Bowers or any other new bullies, or harassers had decided to gang up on them. 

Ben stopped the group and pointed at a giant green house, “Guys look at the size of that one! I bet you they have a lot of candy!”

“That’s what she said.” Richie joked. 

Y/N just looked at him, “How does that even make sense.” They both laughed as they approached the house. Richie has the need to be funny in front of her, regardless of how loud he really was, if he made her laugh it was worth it.  The rest of the teens were halfway up the driveway while the other two jokes about phony decorations.

“Could you guys be any slower,”  complained Bev. Her voice was strongly overpowered by the teens’ hearty laughs. The night began like that, the group would get candy and move onto another house and so on. All of a sudden the perfect idea popped into Richie’s head.

“Do you want to go do something?” Richie beamed, he had a devious plan and it had to work.

“What do you mean?” he pulled her away from the rest of the group.

“Let’s go do something fun, come on this is so boring.” Y/N shrugged in response, as much as she wanted to hang out with her friends whatever Richie was thinking sounded a lot more entertaining. Richie tried to compromise, now was his chance! 

“Come on, please!”

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The moon loomed over the Losers Club as Mike shivered, his costume wasn’t enough to keep him warm. He felt like his parents were getting impatient just by the hour, they weren’t too happy with him being out with his friends so late. He wished that this could go quicker, but with Bill that might just be impossible. 

“Come on guys, this is the last house on the street.” He huffed. Wait… someone’s missing. He tried to do a headcount and two were gone. Y/N and Richie, of course. 

He looked around, but there was no sight of them. No one seemed to notice their disappearance, but it was quieter. Stanley noticed Mike behind him and they linked up. They filled each other in. The rest continued on in confusion.

“Where did they go?” Stanley shined his cracked flashlight around the neighborhood, all he could see was heaps of children.  “Have you guys seen the two jokesters around anywhere?” Stanley called out a few shouts of “No!” and “Where are they?” emerged from the teens.

Eddie smiled, “Maybe Richie finally made his move.” He slapped his mouth shut, no one else knew about Richie’s ‘dirty secret and he sure as hell didn’t mean to enhance it.

The group stopped walking, “Wait he seriously likes her.” Ben asked. None of them really seemed to care anyway. It wasn’t a huge revelation.

Eddie shook his head, “Just pretend I said nothing.”

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“Just this way,” Richie guided, “I swear we’re almost there.”

A singular beam of light gleamed in front of them, Y/N could barely see anything. The area was of course familiar, The Kissing Bridge. She had no idea on why Rich brought her there, her costume began to itch, few bugs began attacking her arms and legs. The bumps would be worth it in the end. They made their way inside the rickety old bridge, it creaked with on small footstep, ready to collapse. Frogs croaked in the bathroom and Y/N didn’t know why she was there.

“Rich, what are we doing?” she slapped a mosquito on her elbow, the silence was cut with a knife.

“I dunno,” he shrugged, “I personally didn’t want to go collect candy with them.”

She laughed, “That’s an interesting way to put it, but seriously, what do you want to do?”

He thought, what could they do that would be fun, curfew was coming in quick and there was no stores open.

“We could skip rocks?” What kind of response was that? Skipping rocks, how interesting.

 Surprisingly she nodded her head and the two began to walk down a hill. Leaves crunched below them, the boy started to collect pebbles

He handed her a few, he picked the small and round ones just for her, “Here, take these.

“Thanks.” Their hands brushed together and the throwing began. Few rocks managed to skip, none of them paid any attention to the activity. Both drifted off into a sort of dream-like state.

“You know what, I’m just gonna say it.” Richie’s emotions got the best of him.

Y/N turned to look him in the eyes, completely oblivious to what was happening, “Say what?” He took a deep breath, “I like you alot and I needed to know if you want to go see a movie with me. Only if you want.”

Y/N’s eyes went big, “Wait really? I’d love too!”

Relief washed over him, “Good, I thought you liked Eddie or something.”

“Wow, good one.” she laughed.

The rest of their night went swimmingly, jokes and stuffing their faces with candy. The perfect Halloween night for a teen, even if they were home late, far passed the curfew. All worth it.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

[my-status-single]

Autumn Part 1

Character Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Loki x Reader

Word count: 1669

Warnings: I mean the first one is that this isn’t a pure Bucky Barnes fic. The reader will be with multiple people throughout.

Synopsis: Reader is half Asgardian and half mortal. She leaves Asgard to explore the mortal side of her and ends up meeting and falling in love with Bucky Barnes. It starts out in 1942, before Bucky leaves for duty and before Steve becomes Captain America

Authors Note: Whoops I started a new series. Canon compliant AU I haven’t decided if the events of infinity war will happen in this story yet. We’ll find out together I guess. Part one in a series

“I believe this to be a mistake.” Loki says quietly. “You are of Asgard, you do not need to see the way Midgardians live.” He’s pleading at this point, and he is not one to plead. “Please lady, this is madness.” He says as you continues to ignore him.

You finally look at him and huff out a breath. “You are my oldest and dearest friend. I don’t expect you to understand, but I do hope you will support me. I am not just of Asgard, my mother was mortal and I wish to explore that side of myself.” She says. “The all father has already agreed to my request. And I do not want to leave with us fighting.” You say and take his hands.

Loki looks weary. “I just don’t see this ending any way but painfully.” He says in a small voice. You squeeze his hands tightly in your. “I’ll be back before you even have a chance to miss me.” You whisper and kiss his cheek. Heimdall opens the bifrost and then you are gone.

You’d thought long and hard about your decision to leave Asgard. It would always be home, but there were parts of yourself that you wished to understand, things you couldn’t learn by simply reading about Midgard in the palace libraries. You had to experience them yourself.

You’d made that decision three years ago.

You’d been living as a human for three years. The year on earth was 1942.

All things considered, you think you’d adjusted pretty well. you’d picked up their quirks and their clothing, it was easier for you to fit in because you were half mortal. You’d made a few friends, gotten a job, you had a nice little flat in a city called Brooklyn. You worked in a little bakery. You’d taken very well to human food and cooking. And most importantly, you’d kept yourself from forming any lasting relationships. You knew you couldn’t stay here forever, and even if you could you would easily outlive everyone you’d met. You couldn’t get attached.

And it’s that fact that you knew instantly the cocky young man who’d become a regular at the bakery would be a problem.

You are stood at the counter reorganising product when the stranger approaches you.

“What do you recommend?” He asks. You let out a little laugh but don’t look up at him.

“You’ve been in here every day this week, you think you’d have developed an opinion.” You retort, looking up at him briefly.

He grins at you. “I like your accent. Where you from doll?” He asks.

You hum. “Not here.” You say simply, this seems to appease him well enough.

“I’m Bucky.” He says and holds out a hand to you. You smile politely and tell him your name as you shake his hand.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He says with a beaming smile.

It’s a bit overwhelming if you’re honest with yourself. “It’s nice to meet you Bucky.” You say softly.

He talks to you every day for the next month. Casual, flirty small talk. You can tell this is second nature to him, so you can’t really find the harm in flirting back. He must have plenty of women he chats up on the daily.

But then one day he asks you on a proper date.

“A date?” You ask as you both walk home, he’s insisted on doing that the last week or so. Once he’d realised you would usually work until closing.

He laughs sheepishly. “Could you not act so repulsed by the idea?” He says and scratches the back of his neck, he almost looks insecure.

“I’m not.” You say quickly. “Far from it, if I’m being honest. It just seems a bit out of nowhere.” You say.

He frowns and stops walking, looking at you. “I’ve been preparing for this for a month. I’ve been chatting you up and complimenting you, I’ve been calling you pet names.” He says.

“At first I thought that was because you didn’t remember my name.” You admit.

“I could never forget that. Please, doll, go out with me tomorrow.” He says, he’s begging playfully and you find yourself endeared.

You sigh dramatically. “Fine.” You say.

He beams. “Fantastic. So, one more thing. Do you have a friend who’d be willing to double?” He asks. You raise an eyebrow in question. This causes him to continue. “There’s someone I want you to meet. Or…well, I guess I more want them to meet you. But he’s gonna need a date. So do you know of anyone?”

You stare at him for a bit before nodding. “Yeah, sure. What uh..What should I tell her to expect?” You ask.

“Just have her meet us at the bakery tomorrow and I’ll give her all the details.” He says. You’ve begun walking again and are nearly at your building. “He’s a good guy, I promise.” He assures when he sees the uneasy look on your face.

You walk up the steps to your building then. “Thanks for walking me home Buck.” You say softly.

“No need to thank me, darling.” He says and smiles. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” He asks, slight insecurity in his voice.

You nod. “Yeah, I’ll see you then.” You say softly.

He grins and kisses your cheek, running off before you can comment.

You spend a fair amount of time getting ready in the morning. You’d never been on a date. You’d avoided them while on earth and dates were not a common occurrence on Asgard unless you were courting. Which, you’d never had a reason to do. You found yourself being a bit nervous. You spend more time on your hair and makeup than you normally would, you wear a nicer dress. And all throughout your workday, you find yourself distracted.

Your friend, Nora, meets you outside the bakery. “So what exactly do you know about this guy?” She asks. You shrug. “Honestly, all I know is he’s Buck’s friend. So..he must be all right.” You say. She nods. “I suppose that’s good enough for me.” She says and shrugs.

Bucky walks over to you both then. “Hi, sweetheart.” He says and kisses your cheek. “Hello.” He says and holds out his hand to Nora. You introduce them to each other and then you begin walking. “Steve’s meeting us there. He might be a bit nervous, he doesn’t love dates.” He admits. “But he’s a good guy, I think you’ll like him.” He says to Nora. As you walk, his fingers brush yours, and as the sun is setting he finally grabs your hand and tangles your fingers together. There is a street carnival going on and according to Nora its the perfect first date setting.

When you arrive Bucky uses his free hand to wave someone over. “Steve!” He calls. A man comes over. He’s blonde and has a nice face, but he’s also on the small side. In fact, Nora is a good two inches taller than him. He notices this and grimaces. 

“Steve, Nora. Nora, Steve.” Bucky says, introducing them.

Steve gives a half-hearted smile and shakes her hand, keeping the other tucked in his pocket.

“So, this your girl?” Steve asks, nodding at you.

Bucky turns red and you grin. “Your girl?” You tease. He gives Steve a hard look and scratches the back of his neck. “Darlin’ this is my best friend Steve. Or he was until that comment.” He says, you all laugh. Steve holds out his hand, you’re shorter than him and this seems to set him at ease. “It’s nice to meet you, Buck’s told me a lot about you. I can’t for the life of me figure out why you stick around.” He teases. You laugh again.

The night goes well after that. You take a quick liking to Steve and he to you. Nora even seems to enjoy herself, though it's easy to tell she’s not really attracted to Steve, she’s a good sport nonetheless. 

When you find a minute to be alone Bucky tells you how relieved he is that you and Steve get along. You give him a questioning look. He bites his lip. “Look, I’m not really great at this whole thing. But you’re important, and Steve is important and if you two didn’t get along..this couldn’t work, and I want it to work.” He says in a soft voice. “I like you a lot, doll. And I was hoping that we could go out again…and then keep going out..” He says sheepishly. “Like..I was hoping you’d be my..girlfriend.” He says, turning red.

You turn a bit pink yourself. “Oh. I-Yes.” You stammer out. “I mean, I’d like to keep going on dates. See if this can get to the point of..me being your girlfriend.” You say very softly.

You don’t get to discuss it further because Steve and Nora come back over with some peanuts.

Bucky walks you and Nora home, she heads to her flat and you stay outside with Bucky for a bit. You talk quietly with each other, your fingers tangled together. “I don’t think I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight.” He says softly and brushes a piece of your hair back. “You don’t look bad yourself.” You say softly.

He glances down at your lips then, and then back up to your eyes. You don’t know who leans in first, or who closes the gap, but his lips are on yours. It's gentle and sweet and he tastes faintly of peanuts but you don’t mind. You both pull away before it gets too heated.

“When can I see you again?” He whispers.

“Tomorrow.” You say. You’re both a bit breathless.

And that’s how it starts. That's how you begin to fall in love with Bucky Barnes. Despite the fact that you know better, that this can only end in pain, you can’t find it in yourself to regret it.

Next

[heller-obama]

Operation Newsboy

Guys, gals, and nonbinary pals, things are heating up in this fic

It’s still smol but plot development *jazz hands*

Here’s the prologue, chapter one, and chapter two if you hadn’t read them

Chapter 3

Warnings: still nothing except Race smoking a cigar (things heat up next chapter I promise)

Words: 1,187

Editing: a lot plus grammarly (I got 20 newsies slang words marked grammatically incorrect this time)

***#***

When Jack came to, he was sitting against the wall, his bag of newspapers on his lap.

“Hey. Hey. Are you awake?” A kid was standing in front of Jack. The kid was wearing hand-me-down-looking clothes. Jack groaned. “Oh, you’re awake!” He said. He offered a hand to pull Jack up, and Jack took it, standing up and groaning.

“Aw, feels like a herd of horses been tramplin’ my head,” Jack muttered.

The kid smiled. “I know what that feels like.”

“Who-who is ya?” Jack stumbled, and the kid put Jack’s arm around his shoulder.

“I’m Wally,” the kid, Wally, said.

“I’m Jack.” Wally bit back the urge to say ‘I know.’

“Do you have a place to go? A home, or—”

“The only home I’s got is the Lodge.”

“Can you give me directions?”

“Yeah, sure.”

The two boys kept walking down the street, Jack stumbling every so often.

Finally, they made it to a building with a sign that said ‘Newsboy Lodging House’ in large letters.

“This is it,” Jack said. Wally unhooked Jack from around his shoulder, then opened the door. Before Jack went inside the Lodge door completely, he turned to Wally. “Hey, do youse got a place to sleep?”

“Uh, does the park count?”

“No. Come in. We’s got a bed for ya. I think.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Wally said. He didn't think it'd actually be that easy to get an in with the newsies, but here he was. They went inside, trying to find a bed for Wally. It was relatively easy, considering the rest of the boys were still out there selling papers.

“Eh, no problem. Ey, how’s ‘bout you come with me, tomorrow, to sell the papes? Unless you’s got a job.”

“I don’t have a job, but I don’t want to trouble you.”

“Eh, no trouble! Weasel makes more money the more papes he sells to the newsies.” The two boys stopped near a clean bed. “Ah, here’s a bed for youse. It’s next to the door to the roof, but—”

“It’s a bed. Better than where I thought I’d be sleeping tonight.” Secretly, Wally was ecstatic. He knew that Jack slept on the roof, and this was as close as he could get.

“Good. Youse got anything to put down? Somethin’ to mark ya spot?” Jack asked.

“I-I got my hat.” He said. It was just a newsie cap.

“Yeah, no, that’s gonna get stolen.”

“You steal each others’ stuff?” Wally asked in disbelief.

“Mostly for jokes or somethin’. The boys always gives it back. Usually.” He added quietly.

Suddenly, the door banged open. “Is anyone here?” Someone called.

“Crutchie!” Jack called. “We’s up here!”

After a few minutes, and a few muffled thumps, a kid of about fifteen with shaggy blond hair and a crutch staggered up the stairs.

“Hey, Jack!” The blond boy, Crutchie, said. “Who’s the new kid?”

“This is Wally. He needs a spot to sleep. And work.” Jack said. “Oh, yeah, Crutchie!” He said like he was just remembering something. “Today, when I's was sellin’ papes, two random guys came up to me to buy a paper!”

“That’s your job, Jack.” Crutchie teased him, his face deadpan.

“Yeah, but the first guy gave me a quarter! All I’s did was hawk the headline!”

“No way!” Crutchie breathed, his eyes as big as, well, quarters.

“Yeah! And the second man, he gaves me a dollar! A dollar!” Wally could guess at who the two guys were.

“Aw, Jack, it’s just you’s pale, pitiful mug that sells all the papes,” Crutchie said teasingly, and they gave each other a high five.

After a few minutes of joking about the people they conned, Crutchie stood up. “Hey, the boys said they was goin’ to Jacobi’s afta sellin’. You comin’?”

“Yeah,” Jack said.

“Who’s Jacobi?” Wally asked.

“Oh, Mr. Jacobi runs the deli. He lets us hang out there before he lets his customers in.”

“Cool. What d’you do, perform large dance numbers or something?” Wally meant it as a joke, and then quickly realized he was being too proper. “I mean, like, dance crazy dances?”

Jack and Crutchie shared a look. “Eh, occasionally.”

Wally was gaping at them. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.”

“Lead the way, Captain Jack,” Wally said.

***#*** Wally watched, trailing a bit behind Crutchie, Jack as pushed the door open to Jacobi’s Deli, where a few of the newsies were already waiting.

“Afternoon, gents!” A tall kid with blonde hair and a cigar sticking out of his mouth called. “Who’s the new kid?”

Wally raised his hand in a small wave. “I’m, uh, Wally.” Truthfully, he was a bit put out with the fact that a teen-aged kid just had a giant cigar in his mouth.

The kid smirked. “What’s the matter? Ain’t youse sure?”

“I—” Wally began, but Jack saved him from complete embarrassment.

“Ah, Race, lay offa’ ‘im. Your ugly mug is enough to scare anyone.”

The kid, Race, put an exaggerated hand over his heart. “Why, Jack, youse say that to all the fellas, don’tcha?”

“Just for youse, Race,” Jack replied.

Crutchie limped off somewhere, talking to some other boys.

The boys stayed there for hours, joking, teasing, and yes, even a dance or two. More kids showed up and introduced themselves to Wally, who amazed them all with the fact that he actually had an education.

When the little party ended, and the boys walked in a large gaggle back to the lodging house. The newsies were laughing and joking like nothing was wrong, but Wally couldn’t shake the feeling that someone--or something--was watching them, but every time he turned around, nothing was there.

They all arrived at the Lodging House with no incident, and they were settled in their beds when a bright yellow and red flash illuminated the window.

Wally jumped up, whacking his head on the upper bunk above him, which was occupied by Romeo, one of the boys he met at the deli earlier.

“Wally?” The groggy voice of Romeo popped up from above. “What’re youse doin’?”

Wally didn’t answer, just ran out the door as fast as he possibly could without doing his “lightning thing”.

Not a second later, Race spoke up. “Romeo, youse owes me a nickel. I’s told youse that he’d do somethin’ weird before the night’s over.”

***#***

As soon as the door closed, Wally raced after the flash of red light. The Particle Accelerator doesn’t explode for the first time in 115 years, he thought. This is worth checking out, even if it’s not my time assassin. Then that really annoying, small voice in the back of his head whispered, what if it’s a diversion? A diversion to get you away from Jack and your friendly neighborhood time assassin knows who you are, waiting for the right moment to—

“Shut up!” He yelled loudly, in an attempt to quell the voices in his head.

The guy he was chasing stopped whirled around, his feet sliding on the pavement. Wally stopped just in time to avoid barreling over the other speedster.

“Wally?” A familiar voice said, pulling off the cowl over his face.

“Barry?”

***#***

Yeah no regrets here sorry fam

[queerchoicesblog]

At A Strange Time (PM, Alana x MC)

Since I'm still in denial that PM is coming to an end and the chances of developing a proper romance with Alana are at a critical low, I wrote this fic. It's a sort of what if thing: what if we approached Alana at the end of the last chapter before the Berlin guy appeared? That's the scene I pictured, incorporating a quote I found on Internet (”You met me at a very strange time in my life” “When is it not strange? When is a better time?”). Hope you guys like it!

Word Count: 900+

__________________

As Damien wished him good night and walked to his room, Jordan quietly approached Alana in the Washington hotel hall. His reflection slowly materialized beside Alana's on the panoramic glass window.

He was about to open his mouth to say something, but the Interpol agent anticipated him.

"You met me at a very strange time in my life, Jordan" she said quietly as if she was lost in her thoughts and this revelation just crossed her mind.

"When is it not strange? When is a better time?" Jordan asked, smiling weakly to himself. "Life is strange, unpredictable. I mean look at this gala: months ago, one year ago we were all living our lives and now we're trying to save the President. That was totally out of my wildest plans, trust me! I don't know, maybe for you it's different, your life has surely been more exciting than mine so far..."

"It depends on what you mean by exciting" Alana tried and failed to sound amused by her own words.

Jordan turned to her and asked tentatively: "Why did you say we met at a very strange time? If it's not a secret"

Alana looked at him, a painful look in her eyes.

"Secrets are part of the problem" she turned back to the window. "I was texting a message when you approached me, remember? I was chatting with my sister. For the first time in...ages. They released Dad from the hospital and they're having dinner together at my sister's place. I asked to let me know how he's doing and that...I know it's silly now but...that she's not alone."

"It's not silly!" Jordan protested. "Do you miss them? Your family, I mean"

"Maybe. But I cannot afford it, Jordan"

"What do you mean by that? That's nothing wrong in being homesick-"

"I cannot afford it. Jordan, you're so sweet that you probably will never fully understand this but...I live a life of danger. I cannot let my feelings, my melancholy, me missing my dad or my sister interfere with my job. I cannot allow myself to let them get under my skin. If I do, people can get hurt, I can get hurt. We may not last the day. It's a matter of focus: you lose it, you lose".

"I'm sorry, Alana, I think I get what you mean" Jordan apologized. " I just wish you didn't have to get through this".

"It's the life I chose, Jordan. No need to pity me, I was aware of the implications" -her tone softening.

"I'm not pitying you, on the contrary, I admire you! I mean I would never be able to do what you do every day"

Alana chuckled. "I saw you fighting and you're not that bad. Don't sell yourself short, sweetheart"

"Then why did you say it's strange? I mean you should be used to it by now, according to what you said..."

Alana went quiet and hanged her head as if she was searching for words that kept slipping out of her grasp.

"My Dad is not well, to put it mildly, my sister basically hates me because I'm never there when she needs me. She calls me a ghost. 'Long time no see Ghost'. 'Oh look who just picked up her phone for one: it's Ghost'. It hurts. It hurts more than a kick in your groin or a punch in the eye. I know I'm not the type to settle down, I've always known and that's what gave an advantage in my career but...now I wonder if I've just been selfish all along. And doubt is an uncomfortable thing, Jordan. Especially if it put your life choices in perspective."

"What makes you think you're selfish?" Jordan asked.

"What if I keep running away, orbiting relentless away from the one I care only to save myself from hurting? I keep telling myself that I do so to rate this them from the dangers I face on my job, from me 'cause I am no good...but what if all this time I've been lying to myself? Or at least, hiding part of the truth..."

"You might be simply afraid to be vulnerable, Alana. Probably we all are somehow. With our armor on we can be strong, maybe even invincible but the moment we slip out of it, when we let our guard down, we're uncomfortably exposed. I read one that 'living is not for the faints of heart' and I'm sure there's so much truth in that quote"

"So what? How do you do this...living thing right? I know how to deal with danger, even physical pain, bruises, scars but feelings, ties, emotional pain...I don't even know where to start, Jordan." Alana admitted painfully.

"Nobody knows how to deal with it, we just...slowly learn how to cope, in a way. But trust me, it's an everyday struggle. Hayden would smile and say that it's what makes us human and it's beautiful. You also know what Hayden says makes us human? The power of choosing. We can choose to run, to stay, even to do nothing and just go with the flow. We can choose to change or stay the same, it's on us" Jordan turned to her "What I'm trying to say, it's that being vulnerable scares the hell out of anyone but you don't have to be a ghost if you don't want to. And erase that thought: you're not alone, okay?"

"You were a Psychology major or what?" Alana teased, a hint of a soft smile on her lips.

Jordan shrugged.

"Busted, but I didn't become a psychologist. I just had this feeling when we talked in Paris".

"Our Paris date is what brought this on actually. You have such a bad influence on me" Alana sighed.

Then she noticed her hand was almost brushing Jordan's. That's exactly what I was talking about, she thought as his hand seemed to attract her own like a magnet.

Jordan came up with a witty line but was cut off by the warmth of Alana's hand slipping into his. He looked down and a smile formed on his lips, as their hands instinctively hold each other tight.

Alana struggled to meet his eyes.

"Jordan...please, tomorrow at the gala don't do anything stupid. It's gonna be dangerous enough, just stick to the plan and if things get well brutal, run for your life. I know your first instinct is to stay and help but if our plan goes south we don't have a plan b. I'd rather know you fleeing from the scene alive than pulling a hero move and-" she couldn't finish her own sentence.

"Alana..."

"Promise, Jordan!" Alana blurted out, making clear that she wouldn't take no for an answer. In her steely glare you could see pain, a silent 'I'm begging you'.

Eventually, Jordan sighed.

"I promise, Alana, but only if you do the same. If things get rough, don't...don't be our new Dames".

Alana looked at him: she knew Jordan was sweet, but she wasn't expecting this. He caught her off guard once more, after that embrace on the terrace. She did her best to collect herself and nodded at him, meeting his gaze to signal she understood but couldn't be vocal in that very moment.

They both stared at each other for a moment then gazed out of the window. The quiet before the tempest. The gala was just a night away, hours away and no further words could be spoken. They just stood there letting their eyes wander into the horizon, never letting go of each other's hand.

[sssssssim]

ew. com/tv/2019/03/06/arrow-season-8-final/ So season 8 of Arrow will be shortened and its last. I guess we might've all seen this coming. I'm curious as to how long it's been developing, esp considering the cross over this past year and Oliver's fate in it. I really hope they don't kill him off, not after everything he's been through. It's be nice to see Thea again. Also makes you wonder how many more seasons Arrow, Supergirl, Legends could go on for. Your thoughts on it all?

So. I’ve had a few days to sit on it and really think about this. Get ready for some babble.

I’ll start by saying that I’m glad. 

On one hand, I’m glad that it’s going to end. It’s been going on for long enough, and the past few seasons have not been as good as their firsts. Honestly, they should have ended it a while ago, but I’m still glad they’re ending it when they are. … I’m glad they’re not dragging it on to fifteen seasons (yeah, I’m looking at you, Supernatural).

On the other hand, I’m glad we’re still getting season 8. Yeah, it’s going to be shorter, just 10 episodes, that’s fine by me. But it’s important that we’re getting it, because it gives the writers a chance to tie up all the loose ends. I would have been very, very pissed, if it would have ended at s7, in a massive cliffhanger.

As for the story… Yes, I’m alarmed for Crisis on Infinite Earths. I think there’s a big chance they’re going to kill off Oliver, especially after what mysterius deal he made with the Monitor in Elseworlds. … I don’t know if I’m okay with that. I don’t know if I’m okay with anyone dying then, although I know they’re all supposed to.

It could happen, though. There’s gonna be 10 episodes in s8, and they could time it so that the crossover episode is the last Arrow one. And Oliver dies then. It could happen, but I don’t want it. I might change my mind till next year, but… ouch.

At the end of the day, I hope they do it justice. I didn’t enjoy the latest seasons as much as I did the first three, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy Arrow. I did, actually. Quite a lot.

Arrow holds a dear place in my heart.

All the olicity fanfic I’ve written, it’s taken me places. I made friends because of it, at one point in time it gave me a lil bit of fame in this fandom :)), it helped me practice my English and it gave me a lot of confidence, as a fic writer.

It’s the reason I started getting into DC. I didn’t grew up with Superman and Batman, I was never really interested in non-Marvel superheroes, but Arrow made me fall a lil in love with DC superheroes, and the Arrowverse is the only reason I know anything about them, and Arrow is the one that started it all.

Arrow is ridiculously important, because it was the first superhero show. It was the first one, in a while, that was good, that was popular enough, that started the process of making superhero tv shows A Thing. 

And look where we are now, seven years later. The Flash, Legends of Tomorrow, Supergirl, Black Lightning, Constantine, Gotham, Titans, Doom Patrol, Krypton, Batwoman. Agents of Shield, Agent Carter, Daredevil, Jessica Jones, Luke Cage, Iron Fist, The Defenders, Runaways, The Gifted, Legion, Cloak & Dagger, Deadly Class. And The Tick, which I don’t watch, oops. What else did I miss?

Arrow started it all.

Yeah, I haven’t written any proper fic for it in years. Yeah, I haven’t loved the past seasons.

But that doesn’t erase the fact that I do still love Arrow, as a whole.

I’ll be sad to see it go. But I hope, I’m praying, that they’re going to give it the farewell it deserves.

I am so very excited for the actors, though. I always am, when a show ends. Like… Yeah, man, I see Stephen Amell and I instantly think “Oh, that’s Oliver.”, but I’m so excited to stop doing that. Everyone involved in the show, from Stephen, Emily and David, to the kiddos, Kat and Ben, they have proven their worth, as actors. I am so excited to see where they go next. 

As for the rest of the Arrowverse shows… I don’t think their success is connected to Arrow’s demise. I hope they’re smart enough to treat all of them as separate entities and to keep them around, as long as the views justify it. As of right now, I’m loving Flash above anything else, and both Legends and Supergirl are hella fun to watch. I hope they don’t cancel them anytime soon.

At the end of the day, I realize that this news has got me very excited.

I’m excited to see how the two timelines we’re seeing now, in s7, are gonna wrap up, and I’m excited to see which of them we’ll be seeing in s8.

I’m excited for s8. I’m excited for the emotional mess I’m gonna be in as the last episode airs, I’m excited to see how it’s going to end.

I’m excited for Crisis on Infinite Earths. Knowing that it’s going to be the last big Arrowverse crossover, I know it’s going to be bigger, better than all of the rest combined. It’s going to be fucking huge.

I’m excited to see Stephen and Emily be … someone else, something else :).

I’m excited to be a part of the end of Arrow. I’ve always been excited to be a part of it. 

Because this, this show, these moments we’re going through, they’re 

superhero tv history, and we’re all a part of it. 

[shadowsong26fic]

The Handler AU

As requested by @tigerkat24.

(I do also have fulltext for one scene in here, which will be posted and linked here in the near future, probably tomorrow, after I clean it up some.)

Right. So. A couple of notes before I get started:

1) This AU prominently features Lavinia, and also super self-indulgent. Gonna say that straight-out. This is me and my OC and a bunch of tropes I adore. It is not the most self-indulgent piece I’ve ever put together, but it’s probably up there. I say this because, while I am pretty much past the point as a fan/content creator/whatever where I’m ashamed of my self-indulgent BS, I understand that it might not be everyone’s cup of tea, especially when it’s as obvious as this piece is. And I like people to know at least in general terms what they’re getting into when they open a piece of mine. So, you know, bear that in mind as you move forward.

2) Because of the way I work/develop AUs/OCs/etc., there are certain personality traits/satellite characters/plot points that are common to all/most of Lavinia’s storylines (...yeah, it’s a Thing I do, with OCs yeah but also with OC-free AUs and AUs of AUs and ‘hey what if I changed this plot point here, or put OC B in this situation instead of that one, or stuck Canon D in...look, y’all have seen my Distaff variants, you know the kind of thing I’m talking about; I don’t always stop at a single layer of canon-divergence, but then there has to be a thread connecting everything, or it becomes a totally different story/character, right? ...I’m not sure I’m explaining this very well. ...anyway, back on topic). As a result, despite being an AU of a completely different AU, this outline is therefore somewhat spoilery for a future Precipice arc. I mean, I’m pretty sure I’ve hinted at where I’m going with her in the fic proper and/or bonus content, or at least I’ve tried to, (plus, I know I’ve mentioned some things here on tumblr about particular narrative/character tropes I like), so it’s probably not too surprising? Or, at least, I hope it’s not. If it is, I need to get better at foreshadowing… Anyway, it is still technically a spoiler. To the point where I considered sitting on this (and a couple related AUs) at least until a particular event from Arc Seven that makes said future storyline about as clear as it can be until it actually happens. But…I decided ehhhhhh, why not (plus this was requested). But, you know, if that is something you want to avoid, might be best not to read this outline until after Arc…nine, I think? Just as a head’s up.

3) This is essentially a Kallus-centric Rebels fic (though, as mentioned above, also prominently featuring one of my OCs). And, other than that one bit in the Valdemar AU I wrote a month or so ago, this is the first time I’ve actually written Rebels content. (…granted, I’ve plotted more things--the closely-related Pellaeon AU features Rebels stuff pretty heavily, as does the middle arc of the Valdemar AU, which started as ‘Anakin would do really well as a Herald actually’ and has now turned into a massive three-part kudzu plot of a niche crossover and I should really redo that outline properly at some point, plus a few other things…) Anyway, the point is, I’m not necessarily super familiar with the conventions/etc. of this part of the fandom, and I apologize for any off-voice bits.

Okay! Now that I have warned for spoilers, inexperience, and self-indulgent BS…welcome to the Handler AU.

Oh, one more thing I want to mention—because this is, as stated above, super self-indulgent, Kanan is still alive because I said so. He got pretty crisped in that explosion and therefore missed the final battle, but didn’t actually die.

(Imperial records may have listed him as dead for a while, because No One Could Have Survived That, but he did survive.)

(How? IDK, maybe Ezra actually was able to do something from the between-place in this version.)

(Point is, we still have Kanan.)

(Ezra and Thrawn are still on a road trip with a bunch of space whales, though.)

ANYWAY. On to the good stuff.

It all kicks off like two months after Yavin.

Some timeline notes:

Because timelining anything in Star Wars is A Project, I am making some executive decisions here.

We’re approximately a year after the Rebels series finale.

(Meaning Jacen is like 3-4 months old, depending on exactly how pregnant Hera was at the time.)

This is also about how long Zeb and Kallus have been explicitly dating.

(There was SO MUCH PINING going on for a while there.)

(But it took that long for either of them to actually do anything about it.)

(Kallus figured out pretty early on that he was interested, but didn’t really think he deserved this/had earned it yet/that Zeb could possibly be interested in him, and therefore decided to bury his feelings Like A Goddamn Professional Okay.)

(Zeb took a while longer to clue in, and then couldn’t figure out if this was just him or what--see above re: burying things; worked a little bit too well--plus he has his own issues to work through.)

(And then there were some frantic Confessions and so-glad-we’re-alive sex and…)

(Yeah, this is a thing now.)

(Exactly zero people who have spent any time with these two dorks at all are surprised.)

(As is so often the case, the last people to clue in that this was A Mutual Thing are the two idiots involved.)

(There may or may not have been a pool or three going.)

(Hera won at least one of them.)

So. Kallus has made himself useful wherever he can since openly defecting, really, but generally works analyzing intelligence reports and training field agents for potential undercover missions. Even if his specific information is getting more and more out of date (few, if any, of the codes, etc. that he knows are still valid at this point), some things aren’t going to change that quickly, and his background is useful here.

Anyway. He gets called in--

“We’ve been approached by a would-be double agent deep in Imperial territory; received three transmissions in the past few weeks. So far, everything we’ve been sent checks out/has been useful, but.”

“But you’re wondering if this agent is an ISB plant.”

“Exactly. She calls herself Vector.”

“She?”

“Yeah. The scrambler she’s using is doing its job, which means we can’t actually use a voice print to ID her, but vocal pattern analysis got us that much. And that she’s likely Coruscanti, Human, and under thirty. That’s about all we know.”

He goes over the data and the recordings from the first three contacts and nothing jumps out as a red flag/any of the tricks he’s familiar with.

On the first call, there’s some dancing around; as if Vector’s trying to make sure of who she’s talking to. What he’d expect from either a plant or a genuine defector, really. Not particularly helpful.

The other two are fairly brief/straightforward, and start the same way each time--This is Vector. I have a data file for you. Do as you like with it. Also not particularly enlightening, given the question he’s been asked to answer.

The data itself, though, is--interesting. Not easy to access, for the most part, and not necessarily all from the same source. Parts of it are the kind of thing ISB would use as bait, but just as much of it is not. Some of it provides useful context for intel the Alliance has received from other sources (some covert, some not), which is not the kind of thing an ISB plant would send.

So, he goes back to his superiors and tentatively reports Vector as probably genuine. He wants to be on hand for her next transmission, though, to be sure.

(He wonders, idly, who they had evaluate his initial transmissions like this, or if using an established codename and protocol was enough…)

(He’s Concerned it might be the second.)

(There are some worrying gaps in Rebel Intelligence’s security that he can only do so much to patch.)

Of course, there’s a slight problem with that. Vector’s transmissions haven’t exactly been regular--the second one came four days after the first, and then it was nearly two weeks to the third.

And when they do come, they’re very brief, so if Kallus is, say, busy with a training exercise on the opposite side of the base…

(Or otherwise occupied in a supply closet.)

(He does have, y’know, a life when off-duty.)

(...which is something that still sends him into weird brainspirals of “how did this happen” and “i don’t deserve this” and “when is it going to blow up in my face” on occasion, but that is a separate problem. One that he buries. Like A Goddamn Professional.)

(no that’s not a habit of his why do you ask.)

IN ANY CASE, this means that it ends up being her sixth message, close to three weeks after Kallus is initially brought in, before he’s able to listen in live.

(Transmissions four and five, after he reviews them, don’t really change his analysis, but still.)

Transmission six comes in while Kallus happens to be in the tiny corner of the current base that Intelligence has claimed.

It starts like the others did--This is Vector. I have a data file for you. Do as you like with it.

Once the file transfer initiates, he responds.

“Vector, this is Fulcrum.”

(Okay, technically, he probably should be using a different handle now, since it’s really supposed to be for field agents only and he isn’t one anymore. And there are similar shared code names for Intelligence agents primarily on base duty, or he assumes there are, but even after over a year of not using it, it’s still the first one that comes to mind. Reflexive, almost. And now it’s going to stick.)

There’s a beat of silence from the other end, and Kallus is briefly concerned that he misjudged the situation, that she’d going to panic and cut the transmission.

But, “I can’t leave the link open long,” she says.

(Part of him thinks she sounds...almost relieved? Like she’s been waiting to be challenged like this, and the longer things went on without a test, the more nervous she got.)

(He can understand that worry. That sense of just waiting for the other shoe to drop.)

(And, yes, other Rebel Intelligence agents probably could have tested her like this, and if he hadn’t been around as a resource they almost certainly would have, but given that he knows exactly what to look for, the Powers That Be had decided to leave it in his hands.)

“Of course,” he says, and asks her a few questions, rapid-fire.

(He’s less interested in the specific details of her answers--and he’s not really asking her questions about her identity--then how she approaches answering him. Not necessarily something he can explain, which is part of why he didn’t coach any of the other officers and get this taken care of on transmission four or five, but just trying to get a sense of her.)

(One thing he does is privately revise the estimate of her age--he thinks she’s younger than the previous guess, probably twenty or so. Sabine’s age, maybe, at the oldest. Which makes her even less likely to be a plant in his opinion; ISB wouldn’t put this much effort into setting up an agent that inexperienced, not on a mission this sensitive, even if she was inconceivably talented and precocious. As an in-person infiltrator, yes, absolutely; but for this many layers of intrigue...no, they’d want someone Experienced.)

She ends the transmission somewhat abruptly, after about five minutes, but he was more or less expecting that and anyway he has what he needs.

“Well?”

“She’s genuine,” he says. “I’m as sure as I can be of that.”

“Good to hear.” A pause. “...you’ve run undercover agents before, correct?”

Kallus shuts down the knee-jerk paranoid response as fast and hard as he can.

(There are almost certainly people in the Alliance who still don’t trust me but none of them are in this room. I know that. Calm down.)

“Yes, once or twice,” he says, cautiously. ���For short-term assignments.”

“Congratulations. You just volunteered to be Vector’s handler.”

(Hence the name of the AU. AKA the one where Kallus adopts a baby spy who JUST HAPPENS to be Palpatine’s daughter.)

(...yeah, he didn’t really see that one coming.)

(...at some point, I should probably go through and outline Lavinia’s politics and her reasons for defecting in detail, but in the interests of focusing on Kallus’s end of things, which is much more interesting, a (hopefully) brief digression on the subject:)

(Lavinia was created and trained to be a spy/manipulator, to perform the kind of tasks and access the kind of information that Palpatine could as the avuncular Chancellor but cannot as Emperor, now that he’s thrown that mask away.)

(...apart from very specific, carefully staged moments, like with Ezra.)

(So, part of manipulating people means understanding them, which means Lavinia does a lot of research to put her targets into context, and in so doing comes across a wide variety of cultures/forms of government, at least in an academic context.)

(And that means that, once she starts thinking beyond “how can I survive until tomorrow” and starts thinking about broader impact/more long-range plans, it doesn’t take her very long to realize that her father’s government is...well, let’s call it deeply flawed.)

(What she does when she comes to that conclusion varies, depending on other circumstances--but she doesn’t necessarily defect right away. Mostly for practical reasons; in Masks!Verse, which this AU is a variant of, she has no Rebel contacts that she’s absolutely sure of.)

(Meaning, in this case, both “absolutely sure is an actual Rebel and not just sympathetic to their aims/politics” and “absolutely sure would be willing to work with me despite my parentage.”)

(And if she approaches anyone she isn’t sure of, it’ll get her or her contact or both of them killed. Defecting from a distance, while she can better protect her identity, has a much bigger risk of interception, which, again, would get her and/or her contacts and possibly a lot of other people killed. Or worse.)

(Basically, she doesn’t think defection is a viable option for her--there are some other reasons for this, but those play a distant second to these concerns.)

(But then Alderaan happens.)

(And these concerns carry a lot less weight.)

(It takes her a couple months to figure out how to make contact with Rebel Intelligence, let alone how to do it safely, but she starts working on it at that point.)

(...I think that’s the salient points here. Like I said, I have a fair bit more about Lavinia’s politics/etc. and the ways/extent to which she’s willing to defy her father in various AUs, but that’s enough for this one, I think.)

So, Kallus can’t really argue with the assignment (even if part of him kind of wants to? Not because he thinks he can’t do it, but because he’s concerned that being another deep-cover informant’s handler is going to dig up a lot of stuff he’d really, really rather keep buried.)

(Look, he feels like he’s finally found his equilibrium. He’s even, somehow, approaching happy with his life for the first time in what feels like forever which, guilt-induced brainspirals aside, he doesn’t want to give up.)

(Besides, handling Vector wouldn’t be his only responsibility, and if he does start losing that equilibrium, he’s not sure how much his other work will be affected.)

(On the other hand...)

(On the other hand, there are very few people who have done what he did and survived long enough to make it back to Rebel lines.)

(Oh, there are other deep-cover informants, sure; but the majority of them are plants inserted by Rebel Intelligence.)

(And while, even leaving aside the technicalities involved with Senator Mothma and others among the leadership who had previously served in the Imperial Senate, there are plenty of defectors--up to and including General Madine and some other persons of very high rank--for the most part, once they make that decision, defectors grab what they can and run.)

(The ones that don’t usually don’t survive as long as he did.)

(Or, alternatively, they don’t identify themselves to the Alliance or even necessarily work directly with them; they perform internal sabotage rather than espionage.)

(Those embedded defectors tend to last longer, but not by much.)

(Which means that he’s probably the only person--certainly the only available person--who has been where Vector is. Who better to help her?)

(As for his own issues...well, he is a Professional, dammit. He can damn well compartmentalize. He’s very good at that.)

(...yeah, this is kind of a running theme for him. Sometimes it’s a good thing, sometimes it’s...very much not.)

(It remains to be seen how much it’ll help or hurt when dealing with Vector.)

So, he accepts the assignment, and goes back to his quarters to tell Zeb and collect a few things--given the irregularity of Vector’s transmissions, until he can talk to her again and set up a better protocol, he’s going to basically have to camp out in Intelligence.

(Which he’s not looking forward to, but it is what it is.)

Zeb is already there when he gets back--their current shifts don’t entirely line up, which is fine; they have at least a few hours overlap most days which is better than some pairs can say.

After several minutes saying hello...

“Did I miss anything interesting?” Kallus asks.

“That Skywalker kid came by a bit ago,” Zeb tells him. “Looking for Kanan.”

Kallus blinks, halfway through fixing caf for the two of them. “...aren’t he and Hera off investigating a potential supply line?”

(Which is, of course, far below Hera’s current paygrade, but she volunteers for that kind of mission on occasion. An excuse to spend private time with her family, while still technically being useful and not taking actual time off.)

“Yep,” Zeb says. “Apparently, this is the third or fourth time something like that has happened. They keep missing each other.”

"Well, I’m sure they’ll link up sooner or later,” he says. “Especially if Skywalker’s actively looking for Kanan.”

(He hasn’t actually met Luke yet at this point, but he’s heard the rumors. He has no real doubt of this fact.)

“Yeah, probably,” Zeb says. “I think Kanan’s been trying to track him down, too. He’ll be sorry he missed him.”

(...yeah, we’re going with Anakin-and-Grievous levels of contrived coincidence to keep those two from actually meeting for a while.)

(Partly because it’s easier than figuring out all the timeline/plot implications that might have (and I’m lazy, and that is the focus of another story), but mostly because I think it’s funny.)

Kallus nods. “...did he and Hera take Jacen with them, or...?”

(He hadn’t seen any evidence the baby had been left with them, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t happened.)

But Zeb shakes his head. “Nah, Sabine has him this time. Why? Something going on?”

“I have an assignment,” Kallus tells him.

“Huh. Extraction?”

(Logical assumption--the bulk of the fieldwork he does now, all-hands-on-deck situations like Lothal aside, is extractions. Occasionally helping sell an insertion, but generally the reverse.)

“No, not this time,” he says. “The agent who reached out, the one I told you about--I’ve been assigned as her handler.”

(He has long since gotten permission to discuss at least surface generalities of his work with Zeb, and they both know where the line is.)

Zeb’s ears flick a little, and Kallus can practically see him weighing the same pros and cons that he himself did earlier--and probably several others he hadn’t thought of.

“So, I guess that means you’re camping out in intelligence for a while?”

“Unfortunately,” he says. “Of course, there is a difference between being on-call and being on duty. And my schedule technically won’t change.”

Zeb perks up at that and grins before kissing him. “Well, I’m sure I an find an excuse to be in the area. Sometimes. Just in case. You know.”

“Mm.”

Fortunately, call number seven comes less than a week later.

This is Vector. I have a data file for you. Do as you like with it.

“Vector, this is Fulcrum.”

A brief pause. “Yes.”

“I’ve been assigned as your handler.”

(He figures the best way to deal with someone who’s probably twitchy and paranoid and otherwise on high alert is to be as scrupulously honest as he can. That doesn’t mean telling her everything, of course, but it does mean being straightforward, difficult as it is, and not outright lying.)

(If he can. So far, he can.)

Another pause. “I understand.”

(She’s hard to read on this one, whether or not she finds it suspicious. She might even be relieved again, that she’ll have a set contact point, rather than a whoever’s-available sort of situation.)

“There are some protocols I’d like to establish, for further contacts.”

“I can’t call at a set time,” she says immediately. “Or at set intervals.”

"I understand,” he said. “But I’m going to give you a more specific frequency to call.”

“Yes,” she says, and that definitely has a faint note of relief.

“Can you, if nothing else, send an all-clear transmission every two weeks?” he asks. “It doesn’t need to be at a set time, but so we can gauge--” whether or not you’re alive and uncompromised “--how concerned we need to be after a long silence.”

She pauses. “...I think so. Yes. I can do that.”

(Definitely young, he thinks, maybe even younger than Ezra--would be.)

“That’s all for now,” he says. There are others he wants to establish, of course, but those are the most important and her file transfer is nearly complete. 

“I’ll be in touch,” she says; hesitates a second; “Vector out.”

(...well, she’s signing off officially now, rather than just abruptly terminating the connection. Progress. I think.)

He goes back to his quarters, and life settles into a new routine.

He keeps up his old duties--analyzing reports, training potential undercover agents, etc.--and also keeps track of Vector and her reports.

That last one proves...well, his early optimism wasn’t entirely misplaced?

Vector is very, very good at what she does. Her files are varied in their content, and sometimes not as useful as she might’ve hoped, due to timing or other resource concerns, but the quality of the work she does never comes into question.

But part of being a double agent’s handler is assessing how they’re holding up under the incredible stress of the position. And she is frustratingly vague when it comes to anything approaching anything personal about herself.

In addition, there are two additional protocols he wants to set up early on--first is a way for him to reach her.

“Just because I have access doesn’t mean I have influence,” she says. “I can’t seed disinformation for you. Not without getting caught.”

“That wasn’t what I meant.”

(Though, of course, he had considered the possibility--as well-positioned as Vector seems to be, how could he not?--but while he doesn’t completely rule out the idea, he files it away under “only as a last resort.” Better to leave her in place as long as possible.)

“But if there’s something specific we want you to keep an eye out for--or if we need to warn you about something...”

“Right,” she says. “That’s fine, then.”

The second, though...the second is where they run into real problems.

“I also want to establish an emergency signal. If you need extraction, or if you end up captured by Rebel agents.”

(He still wonders, sometimes, if staying behind when Ezra came to extract him was the right decision. It had seemed so at the time, but...)

(He’ll probably never know. And fretting about it doesn’t do any good.)

(knowing that doesn’t make it any easier to stop.)

“No,” she says.

“Vector--”

And she hangs up on him.

Exactly why she’s so reticent to establish something like that, he isn’t sure--he has some theories, but...

It’s frustrating, to be sure. Makes it harder for him to do his job.

(And it makes him worried about her--if she’s working without any kind of exit strategy, that likely means she doesn’t think such a thing will be possible. Which, on the one hand, shows her dedication to the cause, but on the other hand...on the other hand, if she thinks getting caught is inevitable, she might get sloppy with her own security and that might well turn into a self-fulfilling prophecy.)

(The other alternative, that she doesn’t trust him, or the Alliance, with her safety if things do go wrong, is...well, probably more distressing, in all honesty.)

(Though not, perhaps, altogether surprising.)

He decides to seek Kanan’s advice on the problem.

(Kanan, after all, knows best what to do with unruly teenagers.)

(...well, so does Hera, but Hera’s advice would probably be less applicable/harder to apply to his specific situation. Also, she has better things to do than help him do his job.)

(Which is the other frustrating thing, that he can’t handle this by himself.)

Kanan’s advice is pretty straightforward--be patient, and don’t push her too hard. You can’t help her if she won’t let you.

(This is part of why I wanted him still around, incidentally.)

(Because there is something utterly hilarious about Kallus going to Kanan for parenting advice.)

(And that’s exactly what he’s doing.)

(Even if he hasn’t quite figured that out yet.)

So, taking this in mind, he backs off. A little bit. Decides to start from square one, and build a rapport, and go from there to get some of the other basics that he wants established.

Standard interrogation technique, technically. Not one favored by ISB, obviously, or really encouraged, but even they knew it had its uses.

Vector is still cagey about personal details, but she does start to soften a little as several weeks go by.

He brings up the idea of an emergency code phrase again, after about two months of this kind of sporadic contact.

This time, she says she’ll think about it.

Things hold in this pattern for about a year, and then Vector makes a call, as usual.

Or, it starts like a normal call, anyway.

“You probably won’t hear from me for a while,” she says, as the file transfer is wrapping up and they’re about to sign off.

“Are you in trouble?”

“No,” she says. “Nothing like that. And nothing related to the work we’ve been doing. But things are going to be...difficult. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to get an all-clear message out for a while.”

He doesn’t like this at all. “How long?”

“A month,” she says. “Probably. Maybe a little more, maybe a little less. I’ll contact you as soon as I can safely.”

It is one of the longer months of his life.

But, as promised, the dedicated comm he has for her lights up eventually.

This is Vector. I have a data file for you.

“Vector, this is Fulcrum,” he says. “Good to hear from you again. Everything all right?”

“Yes,” she says. And she seems fine, and he breathes a quiet sigh of relief.

When he tells Zeb about it later, though, is where it gets...interesting.

“Glad to hear your kid’s okay,” he says.

“My--she’s not my child, Zeb,” Kallus says.

“Really.”

“....”

“Look, you talk about her the same way Kanan talks about Sabine, when she’s off blowing things up on Mandalore.”

“I...wait, really?”

“Yep,” Zeb says, and grins at him. “I mean, it’s not a problem. S’kind of what we do in this family, isn’t it? Take in strays. ‘Bout time you got in on it, really.”

Kallus just stares at him. “I...what.”

Zeb waves a hand in front of his face. “Alex. Babe. You all right in there?”

He shakes himself. “Yes, of course. Sorry."

“Ehh, don’t worry about it. I mean, it’d probably have been nice for the two of us to talk about kids in general before we started adopting our own strays, but--”

Really, sometimes Kallus thinks that Zeb likes the expression he makes when utterly poleaxed like that.

(He does. He thinks it’s adorable.)

(Also, Zeb figures this is a conversation they maybe should have, because they’re clearly both in this for the long haul and he saw this opening and...look, no one ever said Zeb was good at broaching delicate topics gently.)

“...do you?” Kallus asks, when he recovers. “Want children, someday?”

“I mean...yeah,” Zeb says. “If you do. I mean.”

“I hadn’t thought about it,” he confesses.

(Because long-range planning is hard; because they’re at war, because he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop, because he doesn’t deserve any of this and planning for a future he doesn’t deserve is just--a little much for him sometimes.)

“But...yes,” Kallus says. “I think so, yes. I would like to raise children with you. Someday.”

Zeb’s response to that is positive and enthusiastic and leads to things they will definitely not be discussing with their hypothetical children ever.

It’s a month or two after that that Kallus finds out who Vector is.

(…well, for a given value of ‘finds out,’ anyway.)

He and Zeb are babysitting--Sabine is back on Mandalore; Hera is on duty; Kanan was supposed to be finally meeting Luke but there was an issue at the spaceport and he’s stranded for the next few hours.

(Like I said. Anakin-and-Grievous levels of contrived coincidence.)

Zeb has just put the kid to bed, and Kallus is watching the news.

“You’re still watching that?” he asks, nudging Kallus to make room for him on the couch and drawing him to lean on his shoulder.

“I’ve told you before, dear, knowing what the Empire is saying, no matter how different that is from what they’re doing, has its uses.”

“Especially if you know how their propaganda is constructed, I know,” Zeb says, and nuzzles his ear. “Just thought you were almost done.”

Kallus smiles faintly and leans into the caress. “I am, I promise. I’ll shut it off in a minute. I just want to--”

He pauses. Rewinds the feed. Pauses it--pre-recorded coverage of some public event the Emperor’s kid had been at, with the newscaster commenting on the progress of whatever “public works” project it was supposed to kick off.

“…what is it? Something she said?”

(...something to do with whatever this “project” is covering up?)

“Hush,” he says, fiddling with a few buttons and calling up a printed transcript and skims through it before sinking back against Zeb, letting out a breath.

“Babe?”

“I think I know who Vector is,” he says.

Zeb stares at him for a minute, then stares at the paused footage--frozen on the Princess’s face, icy and composed.

“…her?” 

“Her,” he confirms.

“Why…?”

“Little things,” he says. “The way she talks, some unique turns of phrase. And she fits the profile--young, Human, Coruscanti, close to someone powerful but essentially a civilian herself…and…when Vector disappeared on me last month, that coincided with a period where the Princess was more visible than usual.”

“Karabast,” he mutters. “When you put it like that…”

“It’s all conjecture,” Kallus points out. “I can’t prove any it. Not without digging deeper--which, if I’m right, risks compromising her cover--or asking her straight-out.”

(Which, of course, would also be a bad idea. It would probably seriously damage the trust he’s spent the past year and more building, and it might not even get him an honest answer anyway.)

“Right,” Zeb says. “…any chance someone else could put this together?”

Kallus makes a face. “Unlikely,” he says, though he doesn’t sound totally sure. “The recordings of our conversations are kept as hard copies only, for security. Not uploaded onto any networked drives. And a very small set of people have access to those copies. I doubt anyone could put it together without that access. Still…”

(Someone dedicated enough, who managed to access one of those recordings, or intercept a transmission along the way, or compromise the lines of communication from the other side…)

“Kriff,” he says. “Anything you can do about it?”

“Not really,” he says. “Other than brief Draven and keep doing what I’ve been doing.”

“Yeah,” he says, and studies the picture again; glances over at the morose look on Kallus’s face; feels his ears twitching. “Huh. Never would’ve figured the Emperor’s kriffing daughter to defect.”

Kallus jumps a little, drawn out of his thoughts, then rolls his eyes and gives Zeb a fond, exasperated smile (which was really the point, honestly; to needle him into a better mood), and rather dryly points out, “There was a time you would’ve said the same about me.”

“True,” Zeb says, and grins at him. “Guess it just goes to show, people surprise you all the time.”

“Indeed,” Kallus says, then reaches over to shut off the feed and changes the subject.

Six weeks after that, Vector goes quiet again. This time without warning.

When her two-week check-in goes by with nothing, he’s immediately concerned. She’s never missed a check-in before, not without warning. He decides to give her a day, and then ping her himself.

(He generally avoids doing that--only when he absolutely needs to speak with her about something time-sensitive that can’t wait for her to reach out.)

There’s no response to his message, either.

He reports the missed check-in, of course. Tries again the next day. And a third.

Still nothing.

(He knows a rescue won’t be authorized--technically, they don’t actually know for sure who or even where Vector is, and if his theory is correct, they cannot make a run on Coruscant for one agent, especially not one as visible as Princess Lavinia.)

(He keeps telling himself that. Over and over again. As he tries a fourth and fifth time to reach her.)

“Zeb,” he says, after a third full week has gone by since the last time he heard from her. “I need you to talk me out of doing something stupid.”

“Uh, sure, babe. What’s going on?”

He explains the situation as briefly as he can. “And I am this close to staging a half-assed unauthorized raid on Coruscant to extract her.”

“...nah, if we’re doing an unauthorized raid on Coruscant, it should be a full-assed thing.”

That...that wasn’t really the answer Kallus was looking for.

(In hindsight, he thinks, as he tries to redraw building plans from memory and plan this stupid, stupid venture, he probably should have gone to Hera if he really wanted someone to talk him down. Or possibly Kanan. ...no, Hera.)

(...it could be worse, though.)

(he could’ve tried asking Sabine.)

Fortunately, before they can actually run off and get themselves killed--

(or court-martialed)

(or in trouble with Hera)

--Kallus’ dedicated comm chimes.

“All clear,” he breathes. “That’s the all-clear. She’s...she’s alive.”

It’s nearly another week before he hears anything else, but finally a real call comes.

This is Vector. I have a data file for you. Do as you like with it.

“Vector, this is Fulcrum. Are you all right?”

(she doesn’t sound all right; it’s hard to tell through her scrambler, but she seems strained.)

“Everything’s fine,” she says. “I apologize for the delay, but things are settled now. My cover is intact.”

Which is good to know, but not what he asked.

“And what about you?” he says.

She doesn’t answer right away.

“Vector?”

“I’m here,” she says. “And everything is under control. You don’t need to worry about me. Nothing that--it wasn’t anything to do with this, I was caught on the fringes of something unrelated. It won’t interfere with my work going forward.”

Which still isn’t an answer.

(He’s pretty sure the non-answer is his answer, though. Damn it.)

(He knows the risks. Better than most. And he knows she knows them, too. It doesn’t make it any easier to hear, especially knowing that there is kriff-all he can do to help her.)

Into the silence, she says, “I’m your asset, Fulcrum. Not your friend.”

“......”

“I’m just--” She sighs. “I’m your asset. Not your friend. It’s...we should both remember that. It’s probably better, in the long run.”

And part of him is hurt; part of him is annoyed that he is being lectured on professionalism by a damned child; part of him is worried again--he did finally talk her into an emergency code phrase, in case of capture or other disaster, but here she goes again, hinting that she doesn’t have an exit strategy.

(Not like I did, either, he reminds himself. Can’t plan that far ahead. Not when you’re doing this kind of work. And even when Ezra came for me--)

(He buries it. Because he is a goddamn professional, Vector’s reproof aside.)

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she says. “And I’ve had worse.”

“........”

All right, that he likes even less.

“Vector--”

“I have to go,” she says. “I’ll be in touch when I have something else. And I’ll do my best to warn you if I have to disappear again. Vector out.”

And, in the interests of “good Lord this thing is close to 6k already,” we’re going to skip ahead quite a bit, about a year and a half, to just after the evacuation of Echo Base.

For the first time in a while, the whole family (minus Ezra) is back on the Ghost together.

(Kanan, Hera, Chopper, Sabine, Zeb, Kallus, Rex, and Jacen.)

(They’ve all been in touch and met up fairly frequently, but they’re no longer a discrete cell and they all have their own, often separate, duties with the wider Rebellion. So, while the circumstances leading to it are awful, it’s nice to have an opportunity like this.)

Orders are to lay low, and make their way by a prearranged roundabout route to the fleet rendezvous five days later.

The first night, they mostly spend catching up and letting Sabine fleece them all at cards.

(Except Rex. Do Not Play Sabaac With Rex.)

(They had all forgotten that rule.)

Hera is sending occasional messages back and forth to Command, to confirm/make adjustments/etc., but otherwise things are fairly quiet after the frantic rush of the evacuation itself.

(Fortunately, none of them were injured in the escape. It’s happened before, when they’ve had to leave a base in a hurry. That was a week no one wanted to repeat.)

It’s their second night of drifting, and Kallus is just starting to fall asleep (Zeb is snoring beside him; the noise honestly probably should have been annoying but is genuinely comforting at this point, to the point where he has trouble sleeping without it) when his comm beeps.

It’s Vector.

More accurately, it’s her emergency signal.

He extracts himself from the bed and slips out into the hall to talk the call.

“Fulcrum.”

“It’s Vector,” she says, unnecessarily. She’s not using her usual scrambler this time, but a more standard vocoder, probably cannibalized from a stolen helmet. She sounds drained, and slightly breathless. “I’ve been burned. I got...I got away. I had more..." She stops, clears her throat. “I got away. I was able to remove my tracker and I’m as--I’m as sure as I reasonably can be that I’ve lost anyone following me by other means. I-I pulled as much raw data as I could onto a couple of portable drives on my way out, but I’m on a...I’m on a sliced public terminal right now, I don’t want to keep the line open long enough to send them in the usual way and I...I don’t know what the protocol is now. Please advise.”

“Where are you now?” he asks. There are so many other questions he wants to ask, needs to ask, both from a personal and a professional standpoint--is she all right; how did she get caught; how did she escape; how long has she been compromised--but they can wait until she’s been located and brought in safely. He sets them all aside, and focuses.

(Like A Goddamn Professional.)

“Ixaly,” she says. “I’m on...I’m on Ixaly.”

He closes his eyes, mentally traces their route through hyperspace. Ixaly is in this sector, it shouldn’t be far...yes. If he’s counted right--they’ll be doing a navigation stop shortly, and dropping out of hyperspace. From there--a few hours to Ixaly, unless he’s completely turned around.

“There’s a cantina,” he says, “in the Diira district in Central City. The White Shale. Can you be there in six hours?”

A brief pause; he can hear her breathing. “Yes,” she says, at last. “Yes, I’ll be there.”

“That’s the fastest I can arrange a pickup,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

(If he’s right about how close they are, it might not actually take him that long, but there’s a balance between getting to her as quickly as possible and budgeting in time for something to go wrong. He doesn’t want to risk being late and having her move on because she thinks he’s not coming. He may not be able to contact her if something goes wrong; not if she’s relying on sliced public terminals to reach out to him. And he has no idea when she’ll be able to make contact again, or how long whatever data’s on her drives will stay viable...so, six hours. He’ll have to trust her to stay alive that long.)

“I’ll be there,” she promises. “White Shale cantina, Diira district, Central City, six hours.”

“Exactly. You know how to reach me if there are any problems.”

“Yes,” she says.

“It’s almost over,” he says. “You’ve done well, getting yourself this far. Just hold on for a little while longer, all right?”

“I will,” she says; takes a breath. “I’ll see you in six hours. Vector out.”

The line goes dead.

Half a heartbeat later, he feels the familiar rumble of the hyperdrive cutting out, switching over to sublight engines.

He’s in his window now, he doesn’t have time--

As he heads for the Phantom, he runs into Kanan.

“...what’s wrong?”

“Vector,” he says, clipped. “She’s had to run. She’s not far--”

“Go,” he says. “I’ll let Hera know. ...take Zeb with you. In case you need backup.”

(Which he doesn’t really need, and it might well spook his contact if he brings a team--he has run extractions like this before, after all, and Vector is particularly cagey--but he nods.)

“I will. Thank you.”

“How long do we wait before sending our own rescue party?” Kanan asks.

Kallus does some quick mental math--six hours to the meet; going by Vector’s history, she may need some convincing to come along (like I did, until it was too late; but it’s already too late for her, isn’t it?); she might be wrong about having a tail; they might run into unrelated trouble...

“I’ll send word once we leave the system. If you haven’t heard from me in twelve hours, that’s when you worry.”

“Got it,” he says, and starts off towards the cockpit to update Hera, when Kallus realizes--

“Wait,” he says.

Kanan pauses, half-turns back to him.

“I don’t know who Vector is, not for certain,” he says, “but I have considerable circumstantial evidence that she’s Princess Lavinia.”

Kanan takes that in, then nods slowly. “Right. Thanks for the head’s up. I’ll pass that along.”

“Thank you,” Kallus says again, and the two of them separate--Kallus goes to wake Zeb and then get the Phantom prepped and underway; Kanan goes to tell Hera what’s going on.

(...and corral his son.)

(Jacen has developed this habit lately of hiding on the Phantom when he thinks it’s going somewhere Interesting.)

(Which is usually whenever someone other than Mamma is driving.)

(He likes going on Adventures with his various uncles and Auntie ‘Bine, okay.)

(They go on the best Adventures.)

(But retrieving one of Kallus’s deep-cover agents whose cover was blown like a week ago at most is maaaaaaybe not the best Adventure for a three-year-old.)

Fortunately, Zeb isn’t hard to wake and grasps the situation quickly. The two of them head for the Phantom--

And find Sabine sitting there waiting for them, spinning idly in the pilot’s chair.

“...Sabine--” Zeb starts.

“Whatever it is that’s got you two running around frantically when we’re supposed to be lying low,” she says, “I wanna help. You might need backup.”

On the one hand, Kallus is pretty sure they won’t. And his prior concerns about spooking Vector if he comes in with a team still apply.

On the other hand, Sabine is one of the best people to have beside them in a crisis, if things do go all to hell. She’s creative and generally carrying an array of weapons that defies the very laws of physics.

Besides, he doesn’t have time to argue with her.

“Fine,” he says. “But you follow my lead--both of you. Neither of you has been on an extraction like this before, and this is what I do. All right?”

“All right,” Sabine says. “Who is it we’re extracting, exactly?”

“A spy, working under the code name Vector,” he says. “She’s been feeding us intel for close to three years now. Her cover was compromised, and she had to run.”

Sabine nods. “Got it,” she says.

“And, if I’m right,” he says--because if he is, Sabine will have to know before they get there, “she’s the Emperor’s daughter.”

“...all right, then,” Sabine manages, after a moment of stunned silence. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

They detach, and the Ghost disappears behind them back into hyperspace as Kallus sets a course for Ixaly.

And now, since I’m sure y’all are wondering the same thing Kallus is--i.e., how did she get caught/how did she escape--let’s backtrack and leave Kallus’s POV for another brief digression--

It all comes down to a man named Vedric Greer.

Vedric Greer is a Royal Guard. He’s been in that elite unit for over fifteen years at this point, selected more or less straight out of the Academy.

He’s been the head of Lavinia’s detail since she was twelve.

(Before that, he had a variety of assignments; he never got stuck with Vader, for which he is profoundly grateful, but he guarded a few valuable objects/locations, and he was on Tarkin’s detail for a couple of years.)

See, here’s the thing about Royal Guards. They’re put through a lot of conditioning, both physically and mentally, to become living weapons who are absolutely loyal.

And he is. Vedric Greer is an absolutely loyal man.

The thing is, to be a Royal Guard assigned to any living being other than Palpatine himself--Vader, Tarkin, Mas Amedda, Lavinia, a few others--means to be equal parts bodyguard and prison guard. Such a Guard is at least partly there to protect his principal from external threats, of course, but if said principal steps out of line or he’s given certain orders, he becomes their jailer. Or executioner. Or worse.

When he’s assigned to someone like Tarkin, of course, that isn’t much of a problem.

But a lonely, precocious twelve-year-old kid like Lavinia? Who, whatever traits she may have inherited from her father, has them tempered by an actual conscience?

...yeah, it doesn’t take a whole lot for him to bond with her, just a little.

(Throw in the fact that he has a lover, an Imperial Archivist who survived Scarif by being transferred to Coruscant days before Tarkin blew it up...well. Maybe the cracks in his armor aren’t only to do with the little girl he’s been made responsible for.)

So. Vedric Greer is a Royal Guard, and that means he is a living weapon, and absolutely loyal.

But over the past seven years--and especially the last three--maybe, just maybe, that loyalty has started to shift.

(He doesn’t even realize it, at first; and when he does notice the traces of affection, of tangential loyalty in himself...well, he reasons that Lavinia is all but an extension of her father’s will, anyway. Right? And if he conveniently fails to see certain signs...)

(Reynard, his lover, knows way before Vedric does where this is going, of course.)

And then, one morning, his orders change, and all those little things come crashing down.

(It was such a simple thing that screwed her over; Palpatine seeds bait among his minions constantly, little nuggets of information so that, if there is a high-placed leak, he can track it back to its source right away. Standard counter-intelligence, really; and everyone, everyone, is under suspicion. Everyone is tested.)

(Lavinia is normally very good at spotting this sort of thing--she has a natural aptitude for espionage, she was trained by the best, and she puts just as much effort into surviving her father and completing her mission as he did into taking over the galaxy. How else would she have lasted nineteen years as her father’s daughter--let alone three as a deep-cover Rebel spy?)

(But this time--this time she missed it. And now he knows.)

And Vedric Greer has a choice to make.

It’s surprising, in the end, how simple it is.

“My lady,” he informs her, “you are undone.”

He helps her cut out the tracking device implanted inside her ribcage (which is also fitted with a killswitch, of course, in case she ever tried to slip her leash); she asks him to come with her; he refuses.

(He is not a Rebel. He is not disloyal.)

(What he is, is her protector. What he is, is--hers.)

“I’m so sorry,” she says.

“So am I,” he says, and, “Go. I’ll buy you as much time as I can.”

“Goodbye,” she says, and disappears.

He sends a brief message to Reynard--hoping he’ll know what it means (he will; he always knew this might happen), and prepares himself to meet his death.

(Or, at least, that’s what he believes is going to happen.)

(...look, as I said before, this is Self-Indulgent BS(tm). Like I’m really gonna let Greer die. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I have no earthly idea how he survives but he does. Because this is my self-indulgent BS, dammit.)

Okay. Back to Ixaly, and the actual rescue/extraction mission.

(…by which I also mean forward, since it’s like a week later.)

Our Heroes reach Central City about an hour ahead of schedule. After a brief discussion, Sabine disappears into the district to be on-hand for immediate help, if needed; Zeb, who doesn’t blend in as well, will stay with the Phantom; Kallus of course goes to the cantina to find his contact.

He heads there more or less directly, taking in as much detail of the city and the specific neighborhood as he can.

He’s been here before, but it’s been several years; there is a garrison in place, but the occupation seems comparatively light.

Which means there’s a not-unreasonable chance that this will go smoothly.

(Of course, as soon as he thinks that, he starts coming up with all the potential problems that could still happen. For one thing, he or Vector or Sabine might be recognized…)

Security on the cantina itself; mostly local talent, just as it was on his last visit. This is a fairly middle-of-the-road place; just dishonest enough that he and Vector should blend, not so dishonest that they’re likely to get caught in the middle of any…unpleasantness. Part of why he picked this place. That, the fact that it isn’t particularly difficult to find, and is fairly close to his ideal landing site.

(Not the official port, naturally; while Kallus doesn’t doubt that they could bluff their way through, he’d rather not try it on such short notice. They’d landed the Phantom on the city outskirts, about fifteen minutes away by foot.)

In other words, things are about as well-situated as they could be, under the circumstances. He has three separate exit routes at least tentatively mapped out, of varying efficiency and difficulty.

(And, if it came down to it, Sabine or Zeb could create one for him, of course, but he’d prefer to avoid that if at all possible.)

(In any case, best to have backup plans; he’ll pick the best route of the three once he has a better idea of what Vector’s capable of at the moment.)

(He’s almost certain she’s hurt, and he doesn’t know how badly, and she’ll never actually tell him, so that’s the best he can do.)

Inside, the cantina is fairly crowded--which is a mixed blessing; on the one hand, more cover for their activities/conversation, but on the other, more people to see them.

It’s a varied crowd; mostly local shift workers, a few semi-legitimate traders and mid-level bounty hunters. Most importantly, though, there are no troopers that he can identify, even off-duty. Excellent.

He gets a drink (to blend in, primarily) and finds a table in the corner where he can keep an eye on the other patrons and watch the door without being obvious about it.

He’s not kept waiting long.

She blends in pretty well--she’s managed to dress herself in a slightly-outdated local fashion, one that helpfully comes with a cowl that doesn’t quite hide her face, but does enough to keep her mostly anonymous from a distance and make dodging any security cameras easier.

(A few other women in the cantina are dressed similarly; not many, but enough that she doesn’t really stand out.)

She doesn’t head straight for him. She weaves through the crowd for a minute, hesitates by the bar as if she’s considering something, orders a drink. Her attention drifts over the crowd; she doesn’t linger on him, but her hand twitches a little.

(Ah. She spotted him, then. Good.)

(He isn’t really surprised that she figured out which Fulcrum she was working with. And it does make things simpler--there are a few signals he could have tried, but there wasn’t time, when she called, to pick one of them and be sure.)

(An advantage, if a counter-intuitive one, to using the legacy code name with her, he supposes.)

She starts moving again; doing everything right--wandering as if she’s looking for a seat, gradually making her way to a small empty table next to his.

(The whole thing takes probably less than two minutes. It feels longer. Then again, it always does--this isn’t the first time he’s met a contact like this, and that never changes. Doesn’t matter whether he’s the first or second to arrive.)

He taps out a quick signal on his commlink--contact made, everything’s on track so far--and waits.

“I have a data file for you,” she says softly. “Several, in fact.”

He smiles faintly into his drink. “Well done.”

The way the tables are laid out, they’re sitting next to one another, both with their backs against the wall. It’s a simple matter for her to slide the two drives over to him, and just as easy for him to make them disappear.

(Leaving together discreetly will be a little harder, but he’s been doing this for quite a while. They’ll manage.)

“I have transport off-planet,” he tells her. “We should wait a few minutes, not get up right away, but it’s best if we leave sooner rather than later.”

She shakes her head. “I'm not coming with you.”

(He wishes he could say he was surprised.)

He doesn’t turn to look at her, as much as he wants to. “If you’re concerned about reprisals…”

“I’m not,” she says. “Not really. It’s just…not a good idea.”

...and in the interests of “good Lord this thing is probably pushing 10k and it’s not even the full fic it’s an outline,” I’m going to skip the rest of this conversation. Suffice to say, he’s right and she’s wrong, though she takes some convincing, but they leave the cantina together like fifteen minutes later. Also, he confirms that his theory as to her identity was correct somewhere in here.

Anyway, like I said, he talks her down, and she agrees to leave with him.

Once out of the cantina, he can get a better look at her, assess how badly she’s hurt.

(He knows she is for certain now; she’s breathing carefully, shallowly, and a little too fast--but he could only see her hands and the vague shadow of her cowl before.)

“Are you all right?” he asks; even though the answer is obvious; she’s favoring her left side and very pale.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” she says.

A characteristic non-answer, but a step above denial. He supposes.

“All right,” he says. “Let me know if you need help.”

(There’s not much else he can do here and now, anyway; they have some supplies back on the Ghost, and she can get proper medical attention once they rendezvous with the fleet.)

“I will,” she says, which is something at least.

They make it two blocks before they run into a squad of stormtroopers.

It’s a routine patrol; and, even with a wounded asset  to escort, it wouldn’t have been a problem under most circumstances. He could avoid the confrontation, or talk his way past.

But the squad sergeant stiffens in a particular way, staring at him.

“Karabast,” he mutters.

(You’d think, after all these years, this would stop happening so often. But, no, it’s still even odds that, out in the field, someone will recognize him.)

Lavinia takes half a step back. “I can--”

“They’re not here for you,” he tells her, then drags her behind cover a split second before the troopers start firing.

Then takes a minute to take stock.

This is...not an ideal position for a standoff. And while they might be able to fight their way through...

Best plan is to stay put, hold them off as long as they can, and call in Zeb and Sabine for backup.

Good thing I listened to Kanan, he thinks.

He takes out his sidearm, then pulls his holdout pistol from his boot and offers it to Lavinia.

But she shakes her head. “Father kept my focus narrow. I’d do more harm than good.”

“...right.”

Even less ideal. But it’s all right. He can handle this.

He takes his comm, switches it to the voice setting.

“Specter Four, this is Fulcrum. We’re going to need a slightly more dramatic exit than I planned for.”

“Copy that, Fulcrum,” Zeb says. “Could use an opening, Specter Five.”

“And to think you boys wanted to leave me behind,” Sabine says.

“Yes, yes, can we save the ‘I-told-you-sos’ until after we’re clear?” Kallus says, firing off a handful of shots to keep the squad at bay.

“She does have a point, babe.”

“Not on open comms, dear, how many times...”

(Honestly, the little bit of flirting is at this point half an inside joke, after the one time they legitimately forgot to switch channels, and half a way to quickly gauge how serious the situation actually is.)

(Plus, it’s fun. They like flirting.)

“Thirty seconds,” Sabine cuts in.

“Right,” Zeb says. “I’m headed to your position. ETA two minutes.”

“Copy. Fulcrum out.”

Two minutes, under these conditions, is a long, long time.

But, right on cue, thirty seconds later, there is a magnificent explosion, which gives them some breathing room, and then Sabine slides down the wall to land next to him.

“Not my best work,” she says critically, watching the cloud on the horizon, “but it’ll clear a path. Hi,” she adds, for Lavinia’s benefit.

“Hi,” she says, softly.

“...she doesn’t have a blaster,” Sabine says, turning almost accusingly to Kallus.

“Because I’ve never had one before,” Lavinia answers for him. “And this really doesn’t seem the time or place to learn.”

“Well, we’ll fix that later,” Sabine says.

“All right,” Lavinia says, then ducks down as Sabine positions herself better to start shooting back.

The next ninety seconds go much quicker, and then comes the welcome sound of the Phantom’s engines on approach.

It’ll have to be a quick exit, and for a split second, Kallus wonders about getting Lavinia up the ramp fast enough without Zeb actually landing--

But then he sees that Sabine has her jetpack.

(He has never been so pleased to see it in his life.)

“Take her,” he says, once the shuttle is in sight. “I’ll cover you.”

Sabine catches his drift right away, and nods. “Hold on,” she tells Lavinia, who blinks, but does.

And then they’re off.

Kallus just keeps firing at the troopers until, based on the noise it’s making, he judges that the Phantom is close enough that he can make the jump.

He’s--almost right.

He comes within half an inch of missing, then Lavinia’s hands shoot out and grab one of his wrists; Sabine grabs the other and the girls haul him on board.

“We’re good, Zeb, go!” Sabine shouts, while Lavinia drags Kallus the rest of the way in and slams the hatch shut.

We did it.

He takes a minute to catch his breath--he knows it isn’t really over; there’s still a great deal of work to do once they get back to the Ghost and then to the fleet proper.

But for now--they’re all alive, they’re all safe, they’re all at least as intact as they were when they got to Ixaly; the extraction was successful.

Kallus decides to let the rest of the problems wait, and take the win.

He picks himself up and heads to the cockpit, to give Zeb a quick hug and send word to Kanan and the others.

For all the drama and the worry when it started, today turned out to be a very good day.

And I think that’s a good stopping point, don’t you? There is definitely more, featuring (in no particular order) the worlds most #Awkward Road Trip; Kanan and Lavinia meeting; Kanan and Luke finally meeting; Zeb and Kallus adopting a kid or three; Lando; Jacen being precious; and so much more.

But, uh, see all my notes above about “how long is this thing now?!”

(And, again this isn’t even fulltext.)

(This is just the outline.)

...so, uh, yeah, if you made it this far, thank you and I hope you enjoyed my Self-Indulgent BS(tm). <333333333

[jamesniall]

Hey I’m not the anon that u talked about but I follow u on twitter and wanna let u know that don’t worry!!!! That happened to me a few days ago too djdnxjsn. Are you posting today?

ahhh HI OMG thank u for understanding :’)<3<3<3

IT WAS SO FRUSTRATING bc i got it all written but there’s lil things to edit and words to change a bit but it was basically done and then the power went out and refused to come back for 7 hours :/

as soon as it came back i got to it but im sleeeeepy and i have a family thing tomorrow morning (basically today wow it’s 4 am) so i can’t post it until the afternoon :( BUT YES TODAY IT’LL BE POSTED FINALLY. NOTHING WILL STOP ME FROM POSTING IT TODAY.

if u want, and for the other super patient and lovely anon as well, here’s a lil preview of it; the first out of the 5 + 1 things of this fic! <3

(as i said, it still needs to be proof read again so if u find mistakes pls pretend u didnt, im gonna get to them tomorrow sdkfhds but yeah there u have 1,5k of this monster of a fic that took over 2 months of my life lmao what started as a lil hurt/comfort fic ended up in a 18k monster of developing relationship hurt/comfort and angst with a cHEESY ending wow)

Having the night shift at the E.R onFriday nights it’s always a chore. Harry always tries his best to change itwith one of his colleagues, even if he has to take Monday’s morning shift whereeveryone comes with the silliest symptoms to get some excuse to get out oftheir jobs for a couple days.

This time, however, Liam has a familything he can’t get out of and Harry has to cover the night shift.

It goes as he expected it.

Drunk college students with alcoholpoisoning are the most common gig of the night, followed by guys withconcussions and broken noses that can only be attributed to bar fights.

It’s around 10 pm when he’s making a roundthrough the new arrivals when he sees a guy sitting in the waiting room withwhat seems to be a scarf wrapped around his left arm and a guitar tightlyclutched in his right hand.

He looks downright miserable. Soaked tothe bone – though Harry doesn’t recall it raining when he started his shift –hair plastered to his forehead and a bruise in his right cheek that he can tellit’s gonna swell and hurt as fuck tomorrow morning.

He takes a look around the room andfigures he’s the most interesting case he can get out of the night.

“Hello there, I’m Doctor Styles. Did thenurse give you the triage paper?” He asks, looking down at the brown hairedguy, who startles at his voice.

“Oh, hi, yes, uh,” he searches around hispockets for a bit, hissing when he disturbs his homemade bandage, Harry doesn’tknow if he’s hiding a broken, burnt or cut arm, but he’s sure the scarf it’snot wrapped up properly for none of those situations.

He finally finds a yellow crumbled uppaper in the pocket of his jeans, “thought the red papers got attention first.”He says, looking up to Harry and handing him the paper.

“Yeah, Friday nights are usually full ofyellow ones, though.” Harry says, scanning the paper quickly and seeing Niall J. Horan, 25 year old male, reportedbar fight, probable broken wrist, no signs of concussion, vitals on order, pain8/10. “How’s your pain right now?”

“Out of ten? It’s been simmering between 8and 9 for the last hour,” Niall replies with a shrug. “Nurse told me x-rayswere necessary but that I’d have to leave my guitar outside,” he continues, “Irefused, because have you seen the people around this place? They’re all drunk.No way I’m leaving it out here only to find it broken, so if you can tell mewhat to do or what to take for the pain I’d appreciate it so I can go home.”

“You could have a broken wrist, judging bythe pain I’m pretty sure that’s the case, isn’t getting the x-ray moreimportant than a guitar?” Harry asks, an amused smile making his way through asNiall splutters and shakes his head.

“’Course it’s more important, she’s one ofa kind. Actually my arm might be broken because I fell out of the stage toprotect her.” He states. A stubborn frown taking over his face.

“Alright,” Harry nods, “You can leave itin my office while we do x-rays and get you proper treatment. That way both ofyou will be safe.”

“Really?” Niall asks, “Hey, thank youmate! I hope it’s not a bother.”

“None at all, just follow me and we’ll getit done quick enough.”

-

Half an hour later Niall’s sitting in astretcher as Harry wraps up his broken wrist properly. His guitar restingbeside him. “I cannot help but ask, what did you mean you fell out of a stageto save your guitar?”

“Oh,” he laughs, “well, you see, I play inthis bar on Friday nights, to help a bit with the bills, you know? Being ajust-graduated-nutritionist doesn’t give you much, so I was there, justchilling, getting ready to finish the set, when a bunch of assholes startedfighting, throwing punches and chairs and tables went flying. My guitar was inthe direct line of fire.” He says, pausing a bit to swallow harshly as Harrymoves his arm to check the blood flow is alright and the bandages are justtight enough. “So I try to yell at ‘em to be careful but just as I was about toreach the guitar and leave a guy was pushed over, I can only guess he was deaddrunk, because he didn’t even try to slow down the fall, and I could only seehis ass was for sure gonna land on my guitar, so I jumped head first to grab itand he fell on me, I fell on the corner of the stage, thus the bruising.”

“Is that why you told the nurse the reasonof all this was a bar fight?”

“Well, technically it all started with abar fight, but as I was about to explain it all she just went and rolled hiseyes and gave me a yellow paper.” Niall says, a sour look on his face, “realrude of her, you know.”

“Yeah, you’ll have to forgive her,” Harrysays with a small smile, “we don’t get much of anything other than bar fightson Friday nights.” He continues, handing Niall a sheet of paper with hisprescribed pain medication.

“Do I have to come for you to take a lookat it again? Like, remove the bandage or something?” Niall asks, looking a bitforlornly at the piece of paper.

“Oh, yeah but not here, exactly. You cancall this number,” he says, handing Niall a small card that just says Liam Payne and two phone numbers. “He’sthe best orthopedist you’ll ever find in this hospital. He’ll do an x-ray,check everything’s alright and in about 4 weeks you’ll be bandages free.” Hefinishes, smiling despite the fact that Niall looks kind of sad. Disappointedeven. “He really is the best, you’ve got nothing to be scared of, he’ll takegood care of you.”

“Not as good as you,” Niall mutters underhis breath as Harry turns his back on him to open the curtain that wasseparating them from the rest of the E.R.

“What was that?” Harry asks.

“Oh, nothing, just. Thinking out loudabout whether I should try to find a bus or just walk home.”

“I can call you a cab if you’d like.”Harry offers. Helping Niall gather his guitar, papers and card without losinganything.

“No, that’s alright. I left my jacket atthe bar so I have no change with me, just my very loyal Oyster card and twowell-functioning legs.”

“It’s really late, Niall, really. I canlend you some, it’s no trouble.” Harry says, searching in his pockets for hiswallet, “I’d be no good of me as a doctor if I fix you up only to let you walkhome at two in the morning. Cab is the safest option.”

“Also the most expensive,” Niall remarks,“we’re in an alright neighborhood and I live like half an hour from here, it’llbe alright.” Then, with a bit more of spark in his eyes, he says; “If you wantyou can give me your number and I can text you as soon as I get home.”

Harry seemed too busy looking into hiswallet to notice, though, “Here, just a couple of bucks. Just in case youdecide your house’s too far and you’re too tired or cold to keep walking.” Hesays, handing Niall a couple of folded bills. “Or in case you have nothing inyour Oyster card. Can’t never be too safe.”

He’s just finished talking when a beepcomes from his pocket. Eyes opening wide when he sees a red alert from hispager.

“Well, look at that. You can have a couplered cases on Friday nights too.” Harry says, shaking his head, “Have a niceevening. Don’t forget to pick up your meds tomorrow morning. What I just gaveyou we’ll be enough for the night but it might get really achey if you movearound a lot.” Harry says, walking fast towards the nurses’ station. “No guitarplaying, for at least a week, let you hand heal nicely. If there’s moreswelling, your fingers get really cold, dark or you can’t feel them or there’sany fever at all, please come back to the E.R immediately.” Harry says in arush as he checks the new triage papers. “Any questions?”

“Thank you.” Says Niall. “Really, you werethe nicest doctor I’ve ever met and I promise when I come back for that check-upI’ll hunt you down and pay you back.”

“No need,” Harry replies with a smile,“I’ve got to run. Have a safe trip home!”

And with that he leaves, back towards theentrance of the E.R where an ambulance is pulling in someone in a really bloodystretcher.

With a shudder, Niall turns to leave, notbefore looking back at Harry for the last time and saying to himself, “nexttime I’ll get his number.”