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Lady Liberty and The Captain / Part One

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader (1940′s Brooklyn AU)

Summary: You are a rising young star and the newest breakout actress in Hollywood’s Golden Age! When war finally descends on the west, your reputation as America’s Sweetheart finds you cast in a promotional picture alongside Captain America himself.

Yet, he looks eerily familiar, like your Stevie from childhood…

Word count: 4.7k+

Warnings: fluff!!

A/N: hello, everyone!!!! I hope you’re staying home, warm, and safe during these crazy times. I’ve been snuggling with my doggie and continuing with my university’s online classes in my final semester..absolutely crazy how things are rn. I hope this new story can help brighten up your day just a little bit.

First of all, I just want to say thank you💖💛for all the love that old and new readers alike have shown this blog recently. I’ve been writing on this platform for a little less than a year and I never thought l’incendie would blow up as much as it has. You guys are amazing. I’m really excited and eager to share new pieces and hope you enjoy the content I have coming! Please don’t hesitate to pop in and say hi, or shoot me a message. I’ve really enjoyed connecting with readers and would love to know your thoughts on my fics, or just to talk about fandom stuff! Timmy included! PAHAHA

So, this chapter is gonna be a part of a mini-series for a 1940′s writing challenge and I’m using the prompt of wartime romance! This will probably be split into two or three parts and I will tag the host as soon as the last chapter goes up, I’ll most likely make a masterlist in the end as well. Reader has a name in this fic, but hopefully the choice of name will make sense later on :D

As always, feel free to drop a ask/message if you’d like a tag in the next update.

ENJOY!

THE NEW YORK TIMES

Film: ‘Apple of Discord’, Lola Swanson’s Dazzling Debut!

By NICHOLAS WATTS September 1, 1943

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The film drama from the original screenplay written and directed by Andrew Campbell opened to a roar of applause and acclaim at the Radio City Music Hall yesterday evening. Apple of Discord is a reimagining of the myth and Plato’s allegory, focusing on the tumultuous, profoundly elegant life of a young noblewoman during the Trojan wars.

The film’s frontrunner and leading lady is Hollywood newcomer, young and fresh-faced Lola Swanson. Swanson’s performance is so thoughtful, so unfaltering, so intelligent and controlled that it is hard to believe this is little Lola’s long awaited motion picture debut. And what a debut this is!

Starring opposite Hollywood veterans Sean Schultz, Kash Dennis, and Gracie Smith, this star-studded cast packs punches and sizzling chemistry and yet, Swanson does not fizzle out but confidently holds her own, demanding your attention in every scene, and rightfully so. Watching Swanson in this picture is watching a major actress in the making.

Born and raised in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen before moving to Brooklyn to pursue acting, some may recognize Lola from her daytime television roles in Insanity and Passion, It’s a Date! and as Jessica in Jessica Davis Returns.

Now we know these roles were preparing Swanson for the debut of the decade.

“APPLE OF DISCORD” is now showing at the Radio City Music Hall and Cinema 2. Tickets at 25 cents. Running time: 139 minutes.

★★★★☆

——

APPLE OF DISCORD, written and directed by Andrew Campbell; director of photography, Laszlo Kovacs; edited by John Wright; music by John Barry; released by Universal Pictures.

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The newspaper trembles hard between your fingers, threatening to tear its edges. Pulse pounding, ears ringing. You can’t stop smiling. You feel like crying.

You reread the words again and again, the words written by legendary film critic Nicholas Watts, the man you’ve only dreamed of making an impression on, that he’d someday see you in a picture. And here he’s written a glowing review of your major motion picture debut.

You erupt in a fit of giggles and screams, twirling around the small space of your apartment in a swirl of nightgown, pinned curls. A neighbor, Mr. Krisinski, you think, pounds on your wall to shut you up.

It’s still early morning and you had gone downstairs at first light to buy a paper from a newsboy. Outside your window, the streets of New York already yawn and bustle with morning commute. The movement of people, gleaming automobiles against the red brick buildings and muted gray of Manhattan. Warm sun washes over it all, your heart brimming and full, mirroring the glow of golden dawn.

You feel on top of the world. Maybe you’ll finally make it here.

Your phone rings. You rush over to the mint blue rotary telephone on your bedside table, snatch up the receiver before Mr. Krisinski can break down your door with all the racket you’re making.

“Hello?” You say into the mouthpiece, cradling it between your hands. You feel breathless, high strung and buzzing, like you’d just downed a whole case of Coca-Cola, whirring with the taste of sugar and success, bubbling with starpower. Maybe it’s Kash or Gracie calling to congratulate you. Hell, maybe even President Roosevelt.

“Lola! It’s me. Have you read the paper?” The cool voice of Peggy asks you through the receiver. You quietly laugh at your own fantastical expectations. Of course it’s Peggy. Punctual, collected Peggy.

Peggy Carter is your talent agent and manager at MGM. Peggy had snatched you up while you had been working as a background actress on Michael Curtiz’s Casablanca, so hopeful and beholden just to be in the presence of such respected artists, willing to stay the extra hours even after the other girls had gone home when realizing they wouldn’t be seen in the shot. It hadn’t been your first time on a hot set, you were used to the itchy costumes, long hours of endless waiting, and the empty stomachs, but no way you were going to miss a chance to see Ingrid Bergman and Madeleine LeBeau up close.

Back then, only a few years ago yet a lifetime away it seems, Peggy had been a casting assistant, seeing your dedication and marching right up to you between takes to hand you her card. On the back, written in smooth blue ink, a time the next morning for an audition at MGM Studios in downtown New York. Eight o'clock sharp.

You didn’t sleep at all that night after you wrapped.

She’s worked at getting you into audition rooms and meetings for years, pushing you onto writers, production assistants, riggers, directors. She had secured you an audition with Andrew Campbell after “accidentally” leaving your headshot in his mailroom and later calling his assistant with threats of stolen property. MGM’s new fresh face had been penciled in for a side read the following week.

Fierce, ingenious, and your own bright star, you’ve risen through the ranks and fought your way up with Peggy at your side.

“Yeah, Peg. I have it here in front of me. This is...absolutely nuts.”

“Not really, you were brilliant in the picture, darling. But it’s a comfort to know Watts has finally replaced that cotton in his brain with some sense.”

Another laugh from you, twirling the telephone cord around your finger.

“Let me have this one, Peg.”

“If you insist.”

You hear the rustling of newspaper from the other end. You can practically see Peggy sitting at her desk, perusing the paper over a morning cup of coffee, her hair curled, makeup and nails all scarlet red and perfect. The golden placard glittering on the frosted glass of the door.

Margaret Carter, Casting Director.

“I’m calling to tell you about an offer we received this morning from Paramount. I think you should take it.”

That rush of giddiness burns bright again in your veins, pulse skyrocketing.

“Paramount? Geez, what did they say?”

“They want you for a promotional picture that’s being produced by Senator Brandt. Brandt is hoping to boost the homefront’s war bond sales with a little starpower from you and from Captain America. You’ve seen his posters, haven’t you? That costumed bloke?”

You have. Plastered everywhere and looking like an absolute buffoon. Nice physique, though.

The disappointment that settles in your stomach is ugly and cold, like a fruitless pit, hard, rough, a sour taste in your mouth. It’s stupidly childish, yet your own expectations for your first movie, first box office hit, for that very first taste of the promised fame and fortune of success, begin to blink out. Expectations you’ve held on to since you were a little girl, since you realized this is the type of work you want to do for the rest of your life.

You’ve managed to impress Nicholas Watts, the most cynical film critic in all of Hollywood, and this is your big break? A Paramount picture featuring you and a tights-wearing mascot?

Peggy is practically asking you to star alongside Mickey Mouse.

“Is that all they offered?” You respond. You wince at the demanding, ungrateful tone. Afterall, showbiz has hardened you to go after what you want, to take and take because this lifestyle does not guarantee anything. You’re told no more than you are yes, the constant rejection having molded you into a diamond tough girl, glitzy and solid, unbreakable, beautiful.

But how many girls would kill to be in your place?

“The only sensible deal. They also offered you the role of Violet for It’s a Wonderful Life, and Ruthie in The Grapes of Wrath.”

“What?! Peggy, contract me for those instead!”

“Well, I’m not going to. And you listen well as to why.”

You twist your lips together. Peggy’s voice filters clipped and disapproving through the phone line, the way she always gets before she offers you damned good advice.

“Not just Watts is impressed with your work, Lola. You’re finally turning heads and for all good reasons. Anyone can get in front of a camera if they have the right look. But you’ve shown them that you have the look and the raw talent. Critics are saying you’re rivaling Judy Garland, darling. And you’re telling me you want the part of a lousy love interest? A secondary daughter? All because the pictures have big names behind them and people may go see it?

“No,” you mumble.

“No is right. You know better than anyone that people expect young stars to burn out fast so they can take their place. It’s all business. If I put you in for those roles, we’d be playing right into their hand. We’d use up all your potential in one summer. The public would get sick of seeing your face in every big picture. We have to earn their affection, darling. It’s slow and tame and not always glamorous, but this deal is smart.”

You listen, silently.

“Morale is low. War is when people turn to familiar pastimes and simple pleasures. To treat themselves, to take their minds off all the grizzly headlines. Captain America embodies all of that and more. If we take this, I promise you, Lola, that people will remember you as the girl who got them through the darkest times. This will do wonders for your career years down the line. And then, if you still want to play Violet, I’ll phone Frank Capra myself.”

You close your eyes and draw in a breath, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“Well, it looks like I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“Wonderful. I’ll phone Paramount now. We’ll be in touch.”

Growing up with poor Irish immigrants for parents, the rare moments you could afford to splurge on luxuries, you spent them at local cinemas and theaters with your brother. Any day was a good one when you and Samuel bought tickets for a noon screening, the cheapest showing of the day, scraping together pocket change to split a popcorn if you were feeling extra special.

And reclining in a nearly empty theater with refreshments and goodies between the two of you, you’d watch the silver screen with hope in your mouth and stars in your eyes. In here, it no longer mattered how little money you had, or the discrimination your family faced, or the war in Europe, or the meager apartment you’d go home to, lucky if the electricity and heating had been paid for. In here, nothing else mattered but the visual stories.

And you realized that you wanted to help tell them. You wanted to be in front of the cameras, to embody characters and personas and let audiences worldwide empathize and identify with your performances.

You’ve loved playing make-believe since you were a little girl, having never really grown out of it. You could do it, you think. Dangerous dreams, perhaps, but what child doesn’t hold this wish within them? To see their name in lights and to be admired and commended, but most of all, to provide for their family?

How hard could it be?

At sixteen, you land your first speaking role. It’s pathetic. You’re working on set as background, per usual, only this time, the director picks you out from the crowd and gives you the line of, “Good morning, sir.” You’re to look off camera as the actor playing Kent entered the scene and you would then say your line.

You’re stupidly excited. Three simple words. You’ll be uncredited, of course, but your face would finally be seen! With butterflies fluttering in your stomach, the scene resets, Kent takes his mark, the cameras roll, and you deliver.

The scene is cut from the final reel.

You pound the pavement. You scour newspapers and flyers for casting calls, you phone agencies and playhouses, you save up to get your picture taken on glossy photo paper. You keep looking. You keep working in background until you can land a steady role.

Then, you finally get one. A miniscule part of a friendly neighborhood girl on a TV drama for CBS. You only have mere minutes of screen time, but the checks that arrive in the mail from Columbia Broadcasting System after your first few episodes air say otherwise.

You open a savings account. You plant your paychecks and watch them grow into a comfortable sum of money. You land another guest starring role for a daytime soap, the secretary of the title character. Combined with your parents’ salaries from your mother’s sewing and your father’s work on the railroads, you become the main breadwinner.

You move your family out of Hell’s Kitchen, out of your cramped, dark apartment. You sign a new lease under your new stage name and move to Brooklyn together.

Brooklyn is slightly cleaner, but the familiar hustle and bustle, the noise of shopkeepers and dialects and children and cars is comforting, grounds you in your roots. When your CBS drama wraps months later with your last check in the mail and you’re looking for your next gig, your brother works odd jobs to help shoulder the burden. Brick laying, chimney sweeping, milk and mail delivering, Samuel becomes no stranger to any and all work, so long as it pays. You become a typist on the side as you wait for auditions and callbacks.

Samuel tells you his aspirations to be a poet, a writer. He hasn’t said a word to your parents, but he shows you the small bound notebook he carries with him, leafing through pages of prose and verse. You encourage him to submit his work to newspapers, publishers. He gives you a shy smile, says he’ll consider it as soon as you get your motion picture debut. You shake on it. Together, your already close bond of brother and sister grows stronger as you each work to support your art.

You’re waiting for Samuel to finish his shift so you can catch a late showing of His Girl Friday, a warm September day when you first meet Bucky Barnes down at the wharfs. He’s tall, lean, and glistening with sweat when he rounds out of the warehouse with an armful of crates and nearly knocks you off the pier.

“Hey, watch it!” he snaps. His eyes flash like the water around you, blue and cold and dangerous. Brown locks curl with perspiration against his forehead, the sleeves of his workshirt rolled up over his shoulders, the exposed skin of his throat and arms flushed and tan.

Embarrassed, you try to steady him, to which he growls in annoyance and spins out of your reach. He makes a great show of bearing the weight himself, grumbling as he sets down his load. You don’t miss the way the muscles in his back flex and dip. It isn’t until he slowly stands back up, wiping his palms on his khakis, that you get a good look at each other.

The hostility in his eyes softens ever so slightly, simmering into a look that cinches your chest tight when his gaze travels shamelessly up from your kitten heels to the curves of your lips and cheek. His breathing is still labored as he surveys you and you can feel heat and color blooming against your skin. When his eyes finally settle on your face, you can’t decide whether you want to slap or kiss him.

“You lost or something, honey?” He asks with a whisper of a smile. He strolls in a lazy half-circle in front of you and moves to go back up the ramp to the warehouse. Then, he pauses and turns back to you.

“Have we met before? I swear I recognize you from somewhere.”

This delights you deliciously, that a handsome young man you’ve met by chance has seen your work. Not glamorous, acclaimed roles by any means, but recognition nonetheless. You bite the inside of your lip to suppress your smile and give him a coy, bashful flutter of your eyelashes.

“If that were the case, I’m sure I’d remember you.”

He grins wolfishly, pleased, and takes a step closer. “Yeah? Think you’ll let me take you out for dinner tonight?”

“She’s got plans with me, Buck.” Samuel’s voice carries across the water. Your brother emerges with wooden boxes and sets them between you and Bucky in a huff, as if he’s implementing a physical barrier, both childish and endearing. Bucky glances at you and Samuel.

“Are you two..?”

“Steady? No. She’s my sister.”

Bucky snorts and his eyes find you again, glittering in the evening light. “You never told me you had a sister, Sammy. And such a looker too..”

“Makes you wonder why I never brought her up,” retorts Samuel and gives him a playful shove, traps him briefly in a headlock. “At least Steve wouldn’t ogle.”

“Stevie would get a nose bleed and pass out.” You hear Bucky grunt back. Samuel moves as if to dump him into the drink and Bucky pinwheels, scrambling. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it!”

Satisfied, Samuel releases him and socks him in the shoulder for good measure. Bucky stumbles, looking boyish and smooth despite his shirt and hair all disheveled.

You’ve seen his type in casting offices all across New York; bold, alluring, and charismatic. It’s a look and type you’ve longed to act opposite of someday, as all young starlets dream of, but a look that simultaneously sparks the feminine temptation that shivers between your breasts. You wonder if Bucky would look the same in a dark bedroom, with him on top of you and your fingers running over his back…

Bucky grins toothily when he catches you staring and shoots you a wink. None of those movie star hopefuls hold a candle now to his rugged, spirited charm.

Samuel guides you back up the pier so he can punch out his time card and the two of you can be on your way. And as you’re about to set foot on solid ground, you hear Bucky call out to you.

“What’s your name, honey?”

Samuel sighs and shakes his head. “Cripes.” He mutters to himself. Before Samuel can stop you, you laugh and turn back to the water with a fresh and girlish aire, warmth and excitement whispering through your veins, young and naive and sixteen.

“Dolores!” You give him your full name, your real name. For once, you don’t want to be Lola Sparks. You want to be your natural, honest self, the girl who deserves young love and joy and an untroubled adolescence. The sound of your voice rings clear and strong, the diva that you are, and Bucky’s mouth curves upwards.

“See you ‘round, Dot.”

Much to Samuel’s displeasure, you tail your big brother around the docks like a lost pup whenever you have time. And being a C-list actress and a part-time typist, you have plenty of it. You loiter with the excuse of bringing sack lunches, waiting on Samuel and Bucky at the edge of the warehouses. It’s lonesome and bores you to no end being all by yourself, until one afternoon when someone is already waiting at your spot by the pier.

Small, skinny as his own shadow with a fringe of blonde hair, he leans hunkered and folded within himself, timid and seemingly conscious of how he occupies space. His jacket droops over his shoulders, eyes downcast even as you approach. He has a sketchbook in his hands, concentrated as the pencil moves across the page in fast, gentle strokes. You see an impressive likeness of the piers and Bucky’s distant figure in charcoaled lines.

“That’s really something.” You say.

He jolts so hard the paper tears and he crumples it into his fist in a single motion. “Huh?” he answers. When he looks to you, you realize his eyes are a pretty shade of teal. He flushes, petrified, the tips of his ears coloring pink. You feel horrible when he goes to pocket the ball of paper.

“I’m so sorry for scaring you,” you breathe. Gently, you offer your palm to him. “If you’re not keeping it, do you mind if I have it?” You ask softly. A few seconds pass and he shakes his head before placing it in your hand. You unfurl the paper, carefully smooth it out as he watches you from the corner of his eye.

Shyness is a barrier of art you’ve known all too well, from your own experiences in audition rooms to your brother’s reluctance to find a publisher, you understand that sting of insecurity better than anyone. So, you let him watch you as you admire his work, let him know of his talent and let your actions speak for you. You smile and slip the drawing into your purse.

Then, his stomach grumbles audibly, almost comically loud. He folds his arms around his stomach, so tight you’re afraid he’ll snap in half. You quickly reach into one of your paper bags and hand him a sandwich wrapped in cellophane and a can of lemonade.

“Here, let’s trade.”

“That’s awfully kind of you, but I can’t accept..” he starts. The timbre of his voice is surprisingly gallant and sure, pleasant, sweet. You have a gut feeling that the world has been taking advantage of that kindness his whole life, scaring him away from genuine compassion, that everything must have a catch. It makes you press harder.

“I insist. Please. It’s the least I can do for sneaking up on you.” He eyes you warily and again that feeling of regret washes over you. “Consider it payment.” You smile.

Finally, he takes Samuel’s lunch from you and unwraps the sandwich. He eats quickly and quietly, draining the lemonade only minutes later. Perhaps it’s his bony statue, but you feel happy to see this stranger eat.

When he’s finished, he wipes his mouth and turns to you. His lips, pretty, pink, part as if about to speak, yet no words leave him. Instead, he stands frozen with that transfixing blue-green gaze keeping you still, lingering.

That is until a stream of brilliant scarlet red dribbles down his chin and splatters onto his dress shirt. He pinches his nose, doubling forward and his flustered complexion matching the blood spilling from his nostrils.

“You must be Steve,” You laugh lightly and quickly hand him your handkerchief of cream yellow lace and embroidered flowers. You help steady him as he keeps his head tilted down. “Bucky’s told me all about you.”

Steve groans and presses the handkerchief to his face, blushing all the way down to his neck.

Steve returns your handkerchief days later with an embarrassed hush, carefully cleaned and laundered. It smells of lavender and clean linen and the image of him working the fabric between his thin fingers with soap and suds warms your heart.

You tell him it’s his. He blooms and keeps it neatly folded in his breast pocket.

You and Steve quickly grow close in the hours you spend together waiting on Bucky and Samuel. You pack extra lunches for him and sit by the piers chatting, skipping stones as Steve sketches the Brooklyn skyline day in and day out.

“Draw me!” you tease. “Isn’t that the request that all artists want to hear?”

But surprisingly, he does. He always draws you and Bucky and Samuel with striking, intimate familiarity. His sketchbook gradually fills with portraits and pictures of you, sketches that could put your very headshot to shame.

After their usual shifts, the four of you head to the drugstore for your ritual of sodas and sundaes. Two pairs, brother and sister and brothers by blood enjoying a rare wartime treat. With the rations on sugar, it’s a special and memorable circumstance just to be together and sharing something sweet.

It’s there, at your corner booth in Wolfe’s Pharmacy over ice cream, that Bucky opens up a paper for that night’s television network schedule and sees your name.

His eyebrows shoot up. “Dot,” he says. “What do others call you?”

Defeated, you twist your lips, hesitant to break the short spell of normalcy you’ve had with your new friends. Samuel sips at his Coke with a silent grin.

Time for the truth to come out.

“Well, ‘doll’, by Stevie,” you giggle and toe Steve’s foot under the table. Steve shyly shrinks back into his seat. “But CBS calls me Lola.”

Bucky’s jaw drops.

“Get out of here. You’re pulling my leg..”

“I absolutely am not.”

“Sammy, tell me she’s pulling my leg.”

“She’s not.”

Two pairs of brilliant blue eyes dart between you and your brother. Bucky’s face breaks into an open smile, laughing. Steve lurches forward.

“Have you ever met anyone famous?” Steve prods with a hint of that honest, innocent charm.

You wrinkle your nose sheepishly. “Mason Cook?”

“Who?” Bucky asks around a mouthful of sundae.

“Exactly.” Samuel snorts.

“Well, I’m sure he’s very talented.” Says Steve.

You swipe his maraschino cherry and let the stem dangle between your lips. “At least Stevie believes in me.”

“Dot, honey. I saw your pilot episode. If anyone’s a fan, it’s me.” Bucky feigns hurt, hand to his chest.

You stick out your bottom lip before sucking in the stem, working it into a tight knot in your mouth. “Are you still gonna be when your girl is signing autographs with John Wayne?”

You place the knotted stem on your napkin. Bucky nearly chokes.

“I better be.”

Samuel coughs. Steve giggles.

You thank your stars that your secret doesn’t change anything between Steve and Bucky. They treat you just the same; as Samuel’s baby sister who tags along with the boys. The teasing, the fleeting looks all unchanging.

Girls, you’ve unfortunately realized, are catty and mean. You’re competing for roles, after all. But with Bucky and Steve, your first taste of homecoming since moving to Brooklyn, you don’t have to worry about silly competition, or fame, or being the best in the room. They keep you level-headed, reminding you of your girlhood and life’s simple pleasures.

Bucky drives you and Steve around town in the company truck on weekends. Hopscotch and jacks on brick roads and warm nights, watching sunsets until the sky blushes peach and mango yellow at Coney Island.

A Saturday afternoon on Rockaway Beach, a vacation for you all after a draining week of work and auditions when Bucky promises to win you a stuffed bear when he sees you eyeing the one on careful display.

“Buck..Bucky, give it a rest, we can try the next one.” Steve chides.

Another plastic ring pings off the neck of a glass bottle. Bucky curses, rings his hands together and slaps another dollar onto the counter.

You and Steve trade looks. Bucky’s been at it for ten minutes. At this rate, you know you’ll be walking on the train tracks home tonight.

So, you and Steve huddle close and cheer him on. Do it for our doll! says Steve. Finish it so you’ll stop wasting money, you dolt! you cry. Hell, even the vendor finds it humorous and joins in.

And when Bucky wins that grand prize and you’re handed a teddy bear as big as Stevie, you hoist it on your back, careful to not let it touch gravel or dust as the three of you walk in line with the train tracks later that evening.

Paradise, a sheltered haven from the broken landscapes and realities that the European newsreels broadcast home in grim black and white.

True to Bucky’s word, they become your biggest supporters, helping you run lines and monologues and accompanying you to auditions. Bucky’s not bad for a scene partner, and Steve’s awareness of emotion and character motivation is impressive.

The attention you receive from casting directors and auditionees doesn’t hurt your chances either, lanky Steve and smoldering Bucky wishing you luck before stepping into the green room.

You book a drama. Then, a short film. Then another. You call them your lucky charms.

And when your humble little short film “premiers” at the corner cinema, squeezed in between an empty noon showing of a cartoon rerun, Steve and Bucky whoop and holler when your character is shown on screen. They throw popcorn and gumdrops, jostle you by the shoulders. Bucky even runs down the aisle and mimes kissing the projector screen.

“That’s our girl! That’s our Dot!”

The usher threatens to throw you out. Steve tells him you’ve paid good money for your tickets and you’ll stay and watch as long as you please.

The following week, you’re scouted by Peggy Carter.

Your world, your career will never be the same.

#steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #captain america x reader #captain america x female reader #captain america x you #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x female reader #winter soldier x you #steve rogers fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #bucky barnes imagine

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takadasaiko · 4 years

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Growth and Comfort Do Not Coexist (a Veronica Mars oneshot)

FFN II AO3

Summary: When Logan and his Navy buddy get volunteered for the Career Day fair at Neptune High on the same day that Veronica is hired by Principal Clemmons for a case, Logan's two worlds cross with some soul-searching results.

Notes: When I started this series the plan was to keep it as a pretty strict extension of canon, but after going through S4 again I feel like it's more accurate to say that it's a very subtle AU with most of canon intact. Most of the time, you may not even be able to tell, while others I'm going to splinter off a bit more. This is one of those times. I haven't finished the novels yet, but I understand that Logan provides a bit of backstory on how he joined the Navy in the second one. At least in spirit it lined up pretty closely with the head canon I was already getting attached to, so I decided to keep the head canon for this series. I'll try to let you know in any future fics as well if it splits for information I know was provided.

Growth and Comfort Do Not Coexist

One of the countless ironies in his life was that it had been his father that had started him on his love of quoting others to find his own way. It made sense, even if he hated it. An actor regurgitating others' words in his own voice and making a mint of people for doing so, but Logan hadn't stopped with movies. He watched everything, read more than admitted to in his younger years, and stored every word, every syllable that he could away in the library of his mind to work into his own vocabulary. He'd honed a quick wit and sharpened his tongue to a razor's edge of protection over the years. It hadn't defended him at home, but it left him ready to take on anyone outside of those walls willing to come at him. Anger had fueled him and made him deadly to the point that he'd driven off nearly everyone that was willing to challenge him for whatever reason.

Almost everyone, and those rare few that had remained had been his saving grace. All these years later he could acknowledge that. Duncan Kane who had been willing to walk off when he'd crossed that line into total jackassery, Dick Casablancas who had done what he could - if he even knew he was doing it or not - by harassing him out of the deep funks he fell in, and that shining beacon of light named Veronica Mars that had reminded him of his own mortality while simultaneously easing the sting of the wounds inflicted by his life. It hadn't always been easy, especially with Veronica. Aaron may have led him to a love of words, but as Logan closed the door to his convertible - tucked in a line of clunkers and high-end cars that made up the Neptune High parking lot - he knew that he never would have made it this far on words alone. He had always craved support. Needed it. And even after Veronica had left, fleeing the black hole that Neptune felt like at times, he'd found it.

He just wondered what kind of quote he could rattle off that could somehow find peace between his then and his now as he stood looking onto the high school that he'd graduated from, the life that he'd left so far behind in so many ways, but he was drawing a blank. No, this was what it was, and really he couldn't even trace it back to a place where he could remember agreeing to this potential powder keg of a day. The order had come down and he'd said yes sir like a good soldier.

"The rest of the squad and I have a bet going on just how much trouble you got into back in the day."

Logan turned to look at Dave Riley, one of the very few people on the planet that he would be willing to die for. He straightened, showing himself to be a good three or four inches shorter than Logan and skinny as hell. His strawberry-blond hair and green eyes that were too big for his freckled face gave him an air of innocence that Logan knew he used to his advantage. That Midwest drawl did it too. People always underestimate him, but Riley had scored even higher than Logan had on the ASTB-E - Aviation Standard Test Battery - which was saying something. He wouldn't have had anyone else watch his back in the air. Thankfully the Navy had agreed when they assigned Riley as his Weapons System Officer.

"Yeah? You really think it's a fair bet for you to weigh in on?"

Riley shrugged and flashed a wide grin that would have put anyone else at ease. Logan knew better. The more innocent he looked, the more shit Riley was likely to pull. "I'm just here to be the honest voice to deliver back anything I learn."

Logan snorted. "Uh-huh."

"Trust issues. You've got them, my friend."

"I've just known you too long."

"Maybe, but you do trust me."

"Doesn't mean anybody else should."

"Maybe I just want to see pre-bottom-of-the-barrel Echolls. They all saw you after you enlisted, but me? I saw you before and it was not a pretty picture."

Logan snorted, the corners of his lips quirking up as he caught Riley out of the corner of his eye. "Weird. See, I thought you were into me, because I kept telling you to fuck off and you kept coming back."

"You wish," Riley chuckled and shrugged. "Seriously though, what was I supposed to do? No telling what you would have done if I'd just left you there by yourself."

"Flunk out and drink myself to death?"

"Yeah, probably."

Logan finally turned to meet those amused, green eyes and his smirk eased out a little. "Rather have you at my back than anyone else."

"Better believe it, brother," Riley answered and reached up, ready for Logan to tap the back of his hand off of his in an old ritual. "You ready to go talk up the Navy to a bunch of teenagers that remind you of yourself?"

"'Originals cost more than imitations.' Suzy Kassem.'"

Riley snorted. "Yeah, yeah, I know. You're one of a kind," he chuckled as they started towards the building.

Logan flashed him a broad grin as his gaze swept the parking lot that they were walking through, finally falling on a familiar blue Hyundai that didn't belong there. Or maybe it did. Maybe a student there just had the exact same make and model of car that his girlfriend had. Coincidences happened. Sometimes. In theory, at least.

"Remind me again how we got roped into this?" Riley asked, drawing his attention back around.

"Pretty sure Wallace - Veronica's friend - put in the specific request. He's a teacher here."

"And here I am. Dragged in because of you," Riley sighed dramatically and Logan popped his fist against his shoulder, receiving a shit-eating grin and response dripping with false cheer in return. "And I wouldn't want to be anywhere else!"

"Logan!"

"Speak of the Physics teacher and he appears. Like magic," the man in question muttered, receiving a muffled laugh from his cohort as Wallace Fennel broke into a light jog towards them. "I hear we have you to thank for this," Logan directed at Wallace.

"I just put your name into a hat. No clue what had to happen to get a couple of aviators in."

Logan opened his mouth to take advantage of the oh-too-easy joke that Wallace had left open for him when Riley cut him off. "Technically, he's the aviator. I'm the Wizzo." Okay. So maybe he brought some of his Midwest propriety with him. There was a first time for everything.

"The what?" Wallace asked, tilting his head a little to the side in question.

"Weapons System Officer," Riley clarified. "WSO. Wizzo."

"Because we're in the Navy and we nickname everything," Logan popped off and tilted his head towards the man standing on his right. "Lt. Dave Riley. He literally watches my back."

"I shoot the assholes, Echolls makes sure we don't get shot by out-flying them," Riley added.

"So you're Goose?" Wallace asked.

"Yeah… just with less death."

"What do you need us to do, Wallace?" Logan asked, watching students filing in towards their first classes of the day.

"Are you going to hate me if I tell you that I didn't warn Clemmons it was you?"

"Pretty sure if you had he would have shut it down."

Riley straightened, interest piqued again. "And exactly why would this Clemmons fellow hate you?" It took less that two seconds for Riley to turn that inquisitive look on Wallace and, while Logan knew the man had to be able to keep up with Veronica in order to stay in her life as long as he had, it would have been nice to think that he didn't have to worry about fielding questions all day. There was a reason he didn't intentionally connection his life with the Navy to his life in Neptune with the exception of Veronica. Ah well. No turning back now. Good thing he was well versed in pretending things didn't phase him.

"I got some dirt," Wallace offered.

"And here I thought you came along to have my back," Logan grumbled, his glare sliding towards Riley.

"Always, man, but the rest of the squad is relying on me."

"Yeah, when'd you get promoted?"

"Even the squad leader has to own up," Riley teased, nudging Logan's shoulder as he strode forward. "Whatcha got for me. Wallace, was it?"

Logan did not like the look Wallace wore as he said, "How 'bout a trade? I'll tell you about the time Logan and one of the other guys from our class put the lit teacher's car on the flag pole -"

Riley's grin only broadened. "On?"

"On," Wallace confirmed, "if you tell us his call sign. Man will notshare. Can't be that bad, right?"

Logan snorted and started back towards the buildings, hearing a far-too-amused Riley agree to the terms and Wallace's story began. This was going to be a trip.

---------

Some days being a PI was exciting. An unexpected client dropped into the office with an interesting story, lots of holes in it that they didn't think you could possibly discover, and a whole puzzle to solve. And then other days it was your old high school principal who showed up with the Case of the Missing Lockbox. What was in the lockbox, she had no idea, just that it was connected to Career Day - she had zero recollection of having a career day at Neptune High. Wow. - and that it mustbe found.

And it was. Almost before Clemmons had finished rattling off his explanation of just how important it was. There was something in that someone needed and he needed…. Really, she'd lost track. Whatever the reason he wanted it, she found it hidden under a loose floorboard in the gym. The rest was history as soon as he'd signed and handed her the check. As soon as she found where Mac had gotten off to, she had no interest in sticking around.

At least until she spotted a very familiar figure standing at the Navy booth talking to an excitable teen about the F/A-18 Hornets that he flew.

Veronica felt her lips turn up at the corners without permission as she inched forward, waiting behind him until the kid was gone. "Take me to bed or risk losing me forever," she whispered just loud enough for him to hear.

Logan turned, cringing as he did. "I swear, if I never hear another Top Gun reference today…."

"You can live a long and happy life?" she offered.

"Exactly. What are you doing here? I thought I spotted your car."

Veronica leaned against the booth, never breaking eye contact. "Oh, you know, solving cases. Stopping crime. Paying the rent." She waved the check in her hand in front of him.

"One of the kids steal something from Clemmons?"

"You know they did, but I fixed it." He snorted a laugh and Veronica cracked a full grin. "Wallace rope you into this?"

"He did. I'm a good friend. Please feel free to remind him of that at any and every possible moment."

She felt her playful smile soften a little, but a voice broke in from the other end of the booth. "Hey, V!" Riley called, offering a wave when she looked over.

"Look at you standing on two legs," Veronica returned and motioned at the potential recruits. "Ask him how he broke his leg a few months ago. Go ahead. Ask him."

"You're not helping," her boyfriend grumbled with feigned irritation.

Veronica turned back to look at him. "So you and Wallace are friends now?" she asked, circling back around to their conversation. "I like the sound of that."

"I like Wallace. I may have even won him over with this one. It's Mac I'm hesitant about. What'd I do to her?"

Veronica cringed a little. "I think it was Parker."

"Seriously? She knows Parker broke up with me, right?"

"There was something about me involved, I don't know. She's around here somewhere bolstering the campus security. You'd have to ask her."

"I think I'll leave it as one of life's many mysteries."

She laughed, inching in. Hell, she did love him in those Navy whites. Her hand reached forward of its own accord, fingers touching the fabric there and ready to curl into it to pull him closer to her, but he caught it before she could. "I'm technically on duty."

"You're technically on duty when you get home from deployment and haul me off the deck to kiss me," she reminded him, her voice low and he'd have to be an idiot to miss her meaning. Logan Echolls was a lot of things, but an idiot wasn't one of them.

"They give me some leeway there. Not so much when I'm telling kids why they should enlist."

"You telling them to get shot at for a living?"

"Hey, now. Technically I have never gotten shot."

"And you've jinxed yourself."

"It's really not as likely if they're on the ship," he answered, his smirk more cocky than she would have liked. She knew all too well that they had come under fire.

"You're not funny."

"Seriously? I hear you find me hilarious."

Veronica held his gaze, those perfectly thin lips of his stretched out into a smile that made her want to drag him back to some secluded corner right then and there, but she knew she couldn't. He couldn't. Or wouldn't. For all of Logan's flippancy towards authority in their youth, he'd found something sacred in the Navy. She wasn't sure if it was the authority, per se, or something deeper that was just reflected there. He'd grown up alone in many ways, even before his parents had died, and certainly without the usual limitations that most children received. He had never told her the full story of how he'd tumbled into the Navy of all things, but her working theory was that it had something to do with the structure and direction that it provided.

Whatever the case, he loved it. His job, his squad, every inch of it. He didn't just love it, he respected it, and for that reason he would respect the fact that he was there to represent it. Oh, if only sixteen-year-old Logan could see himself now. What would he say?

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Mars," he teased, drawing her attention around.

"There was nothing to say that it was inthe gutter, Echolls," she countered, grinning up at him.

"You need a mirror? All the evidence you'll need for - what do you call it? - a money shot."

Her grin grew as her voice dipped. "Usually fewer clothes for that."

"Give me a couple hours," he promised.

Veronica loosed a laugh out on a breath and leaned against the booth, her gaze drifting out to the crowd of kids. They looked like them years before in so many ways. In others, nothing at all. For the first time in a long time she found herself desperate to see the ghost of Lilly Kane dancing through the throngs of students, laughing and teasing and alive. She'd missed so much.

"So, your buddy Wallace told me about the car on the flagpole incident," Riley's chipper voice pulled her out of her thoughts, "but even as spectacular as that is, it couldn't possibly warrant that look."

Veronica followed where he was pointing to see a very nervous looking Van Clemmons standing with Wallace, the principal's gaze fixed on Logan who was chatting with a student.

"Oh, you know, started a few fights, kept getting charged with murders he didn't commit."

"There was more than one?"

"Well, only one in high school," she answered with a shrug. "Looks like you boys may get let go early. Hiya, Mr C."

The principal looked over on his way to the booth, startled and he mumbled something about a dangerous pair. Veronica snorted a laugh and looked back at Riley. "So how do you like the old stomping grounds?"

"It's an experience. Never thought I'd see kids driving Teslas and Beamers nicer than Logan's to class."

She liked Riley, but she didn't often get time alone with him. She wasn't sure if Logan intentionally kept his Navy and his Neptune life a little bit separate, but she did know that as soon as Clemmons could pry his students away long enough from the Navy table he would politely thank the guys for their time and send them on their way. If she wanted to pick Riley's brain at all, now was a chance she hadn't expected. "You guys met sophomore year, right?"

"Yeah. After you left." His gaze slid over to her. "You fishing for intel, Veronica?"

"Just curious. Tell me you didn't sign on to get a few new stories on him."

"Where Echolls goes, I go," Riley answered with a shrug, but as Veronica waited a little of the mirth washed off. He turned to meet her gaze fully. "A few fun anecdotes are one thing, but this? It changed his life. That's his story to tell, V."

She nodded slowly, turning back to find a missing Logan and Mac having appeared at some point, now patiently waiting with Wallace. Wallace started forward. "Hey, Veronica. Didn't know you were going to be here today."

"Missing something or the other," she answered offhandedly. "Where'd Logan go?"

"Not sure. Fair's wrapping up so the kids can get back to class. Clemmons let you guys go early." Wallace extended a hand. "Lt Riley—"

"Just Riley's good, after the stories I got from you." He happily shook the offered hand, his grin returning. "So if Echolls wandered off, who's the lucky volunteer to drive me back to my car at his place? Unless you have extra keys to the Beamer, V. I'd be willing to slum it."

"But would you be willing to stake your life on it if you wrecked Logan's car?"

"Fair."

"We can take you," Mac offered. "If you're parked at their place it's not too far out of the way."

Veronica shot her a questioning look before filing she dug in her purse for her keys and tossed them at Mac. "You two kids be good. I'll grab a ride home with Logan."

She watched Riley turn a funny sort of smile on Mac who fell into step with him towards the parking lot. She would have to file that away in things to figure out later. For now, she had a Logan to track down.

----------------

Veronica had been busy chatting with Riley when Clemmons gave them the all clear to head out - not a huge surprise and probably the reason Wallace had tried to keep quiet who he'd managed to snag out of the aviation department to come in - and he just needed a couple of minutes to work through the thoughts that he'd shoved down below the surface since arriving on the campus. The students had been called back into their classes and had left the halls deserted, Logan standing alone on the school crest with one hand stuffed deeply into his trouser pockets, the other holding onto his uniform cap.

He hadn't been here since graduation, not that many people made an effort at returning to their high schools, but Logan had made even less so. Hell, he wouldn't have bothered with his ten year reunion if Sean Freidrich hadn't released those videos of Carrie to his instagram account. He didn't have a lot of positive memories associated with it. Sure, early on he'd been popular enough. Money tended to do that in Neptune, as did prestigious parents. Logan had had both. Funny, he'd still had to face most of the battles that had rolled in alone. Especially the ones that counted for anything.

"Hey handsome," a familiar voice chimed behind him and he felt Veronica's hands touch the small of his back lightly as she circled around, her smile flirty and light. "Deep in thought about all the scandalous things that happened here?"

"Yep. I'm pretty sure we made out in that corner. That one too. Oh, and there's the infamous women's bathroom that you kept dragging me into."

"You liked it."

"I did."

Veronica circled around him and he couldn't help but feel his smile turned a little more real. Well, one good thing had come out of it all. Her.

"What are you really thinking about?" she asked, her tone a little less teasing now and damn her. She did see right through him, didn't she?

Logan felt his smile even out, the weight of his thoughts settling back into place from their momentary relief. He let the feelings roll around in his mind for a long moment until they got enough traction to form something like words. Another moment or two and they even started to make at least a fraction of sense. "I've been trying to reconcile who I was with who I am," he said slowly, tasting each word as it left his tongue to make sure it was the right one that best coincided with the emotions that had bubbled up like a geisser ready to shoot towards the sky.

Veronica was uncharacteristically silent as she settled in next to him, both standing on the emblem in the middle of the hall and looking down the long stretch.

"I did a lot of things I'm not proud of. It's easy to say I was young and stupid, but I think…. It used to be easier to keep it all separated. Even living here, when I dated Carrie…. It was different. She had no interest in the Navy. The two worlds were completely separate. Riles only met her maybe… two or three times."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. It was awkward and forced. In the end it was just easier to live two lives, but since you came back it's been… complicated."

He could feel her tense at his side and he risked a look. Well that wasn't a happy look. More of a hurt-desperately-shoved-under-irritation look. "Sorry I complicated things," she groused and Logan scrambled.

"That's not what I mean. I mean, it is, but not like that." He pulled in a breath, trying to find a way to express it in a way that she might be able to understand. "I mean I want Riles to know you. I want you to know him. I want to be friends with your friends and vice versa until they're ours. I just… don't know how to do that without opening myself up for a hell of a lot of shit toted out for everyone to see."

There was another moment of silence from her and Logan shifted from one foot to another, feeling exposed. Finally, he heard her draw in a breath. "'Growth and comfort do not coexist.'"

Logan blinked hard. "Ginny Rometty," he cited, surprise lacing the name.

"I guess? You had it as your voicemail one time. One of your inspirational quotes." Her careful smile flooded him with a sense of warmth. "Seemed to fit."

"Yeah," he breathed.

"I get it," Veronica murmured, looking back down the hall. "When I went to Stanford, I cut ties with everything. I didn't want the two worlds colliding. I never dated anyone for long enough for him to feel like he should meet my dad or anything. To come home. Even with Piz who knew so much of it. I just… kept it separate."

"Why?"

"Because I didn't think I wanted to be that person."

"I love that person."

A small smile tugged her lips out and she reached for the hand still stuffed in his pocket. "Can I ask you something?"

Funny, that question would have terrified him a decade ago, but he heard his response roll off his own tongue without reservation. "Anything."

"Why'd you choose the Navy? I'm glad you did. I've seen…. What it gave you. What it did for you. I just wanna know how you got there."

Logan pursed his lips and considered the question for a long moment. It wasn't the first time she'd asked and she wasn't the only one curious. Just earlier that day Wallace had tried to press Riley for it. Good man Riley. He'd run his mouth about a lot, but not when it counted, and this did.

And because it counted, he knew Veronica deserved to hear it from him.

"I was okay all summer," he started, feeling a little numb as he spoke. "I thought you'd come back. I thought we'd...do what we did back then. Fall apart, come back, try again."

"I transferred."

"Yeah."

"Without telling you."

"I got the hint," he murmured, trying not to sound too bitter. He tightened his hold on her hand in his. "I never really… learned how to process things, I don't think. Not things that mattered. Hell, my go-to when my mom threw herself off a bridge was to hire my best friend's ex girlfriend to prove she wasn't really dead." A mirthless chuckle left him and he felt her tighten her hold on his hand. "I fell apart. Hit bottom. I was on the edge of flunking out, drinking waytoo much, and then this asshole sat down at my table in the cafeteria and just started babbling on about the design of a jet. Honestly, I was so hungover I couldn't tell you what jet he was talking about. All I remember is telling him to fuck off and he thought it was hilarious."

"Riley," Veronica said softly and Logan nodded.

"Riley. He's a stubborn bastard. He kept on me until somehow we became… friends, I guess? Something close to it. Found out later we'd had a class freshman year. The one Wallace and I had where I lost the bet and went streaking through it?" Veronica snorted a laugh at that. She had rolled her eyes pretty hard at the time. "He saw something, through all the bullshit. I don't know why or how, but he had… faith. Ended up convincing me to join ROTC and it was the first time I think I really found structure in my life. I always thought it'd be exhausting but it was… nice, somehow. Not just some assholes that had no business telling me what to do getting off on it, but these people had my back. I eased off the drinking, got my grades up, and did what I had to to get my wings."

"That's… amazing."

"You hear me say Riley saved my life and sure. In the air, definitely, but before that. He got me in the air."

The bell rang. "I'm glad he did," Veronica said earnestly as the doors started opening all around them and she tipped up on her toes to press the briefest of kisses to his lips before the students started to flood out. "Let's go home."

He nodded, words escaping him in that moment as she took him by the hand and led him towards Neptune High's exit, the chatter following them out.

-----------

It felt like a weight had been lifted off that Logan hadn't even known was there. He had always known what had drawn her into the life she lived, what had driven her to find an outlet for the questions that raged after Lilly's death, but that small, lying voice in his mind had told him that she'd be upset if he explained how he had gotten to where he was. She'd be hurt, thinking that he blamed her for finally scraping rock bottom. Or angry that he had. Whatever the case, it would be his fault and clearly it would drive a wedge between them.

But it didn't. Instead she'd taken it in stride, seeming to be more grateful that Riley had been stubborn enough to help him through it than upset that he'd crashed and burned after she had left. They had both done what they had needed, and they had needed it. As much as they'd loved each other they had been so young and so angry and hurt by the world around them. Jaded and pained in ways they couldn't work through together, not at that point. No, they had had to work on themselves, to find themselves, before they could come back together. And they had. Of course they had. Their story was epic.

Logan pulled the BMW around to park it on the street, brows drawing together at the sight of both Veronica's blue Hyundai and Riley's Mustang. "I thought he'd be halfway back to San Diego."

"Yeah, and I thought my car would be at the office…."

They slipped out of the convertible, finding the steps leading to the apartment empty of waiting guests. Logan heard Veronica's voice and glanced over to see her phone pressed to her ear. "Uh huh. Suuure," she answered with a wide grin. "See you in a sec." She ended the call and motioned towards the beach. "Riley forgot his keys in the apartment and Mac decided to wait with him."

Logan tilted his head and they started the short trek to find his Wizzo and one of Veronica's best friends sitting on a beach towel that must have been in her trunk, deep in conversation. Mac was the first to turn at their approach. "Hi there, Hollywood!" she greeted, her grin quick and mischievous.

And suddenly he knew what the conversation had been about. He locked eyes with Riley whose grin was a bit more sheepish. "Traitor," Logan muttered even as Veronica barked a laugh.

"You finally got it out of him. 'Bout damn time." She turned a clearly fake apologetic look at him. "It's not so bad. You've told me some of the other guys' call signs and they're a lot worse."

"It wouldn't have stuck if he hadn't been such a baby about it early on," Riley chuckled.

"Asshole," Logan huffed without any real spite in his voice.

"Yeah, you love me." Riley stood, brushing off his uniform. "I should head back. Good meeting you, Mac. Loved the story about the scavenger hunt. We should do it again sometime." He glanced back pointedly at Logan. "Cross the streams a little, huh?"

Logan rolled his eyes a little, but he knew the smile inching into place was going to give him away. It was nice to find some weird equilibrium between two pieces of his life. "C'mon. Let's grab your keys."

"Oh, wouldn't you know it?" Riley stuffed his hand deeply into his pocket and returned with his keys. "Oops. There the whole time. See ya next time."

Veronica snorted a laugh as Riley sauntered his way up the beach towards the road. "He's a sneaky little bastard."

"I warned you, " Logan chuckled. "He's been looking for high school stories all day."

"And freshman year of college," Mac offered as she stood, stooping back down to grab the oversized beach towel. "But he does pay well with stories from after you ghosted everyone. How did you stay in ROTC with some of the stuff you pulled?"

Logan flashed her a smug grin and Mac laughed, shaking her head.

"You wanna stay for dinner? We can order Thai," Veronica offered.

"I think we have chicken. I can cook," Logan countered.

"You cook?" Mac asked, the amusement still strong in her eyes. "This I have to see."

"I even know how to wash dishes," Logan countered.

Veronica nodded at the distant figure just reaching the street. "Bet we can grab Riley before he leaves. Swap a few more stories?"

"There's no stopping you now, is there?"

"Flood gates aren't open," she agreed.

"I'll go catch Dave," Mac offered and she was gone before either of them could get a word in.

Logan looked to Veronica, finding those clear and curious blue eyes on him too. "Did she just call him Dave?"

"Pretty sure she did."

"Huh."

They started up the beach towards their friends, Logan risking a glance at the woman he loved out of the corner of his eye and feeling a strange sense of peace washing over him despite what would likely turn into a one-up-manship of stories that evening. Growth and comfort didn't coexist, it was true. It had nearly killed him to find a way to survive everything life has dealt him, He couldn't go back and change the past, and he didn't think he wanted to. Without the struggles he faced, he never would have grown like he had, and that growth had brought him here. It had brought him back to her, and for that he would endure any pain.

-----

Notes:

Hat tip to @his-beautiful-girl_Beautiful_Girl for the Suzy Kassem quote and all of the fantastic folks in the VM Fic Club that were willing to help me find the best quote to use there 3

#Veronica Mars #Logan Echolls #VMFanfic #VeronicaMarsFanfic

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itsunclebucky · 5 years

Text

300 Writing Challenge

Hey everyone, Kallie here!

Thank you so much for 300 followers I really do appreciate every single one of you! So to celebrate my milestone, I’m doing my first ever writing challenge. I’m nervous to do this like I was nervous posting my first fanfiction here.

My awesome banner was made by my mom @criminal-cookies I’m so in love with it you wouldn’t believe!! THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU!!!

And I want to thank @sebbbystaaan for the suggestion and all of her help! You’re amazing hun and couldn’t have done this without you!!!

Rules (READ ALL PLEASE)

- You don’t have to follow me (although it would be awesome if you did)

- I’d appreciate it if you could reblog so others can join the fun!

- It can be any Marvel character you want, just send an ask with which prompt you want and the character! (no anonymous)

- You’re more than welcome to take more than one prompt if you do them all. Max 2 people for the same prompt

- Please add a read more if it’s more than 550 words

- It can be any format you want (Social Media AU, Drabble, One shot, or a Series)

- No p*do, inc*est or noncon/dubcon

- Please tag anything you think may be a trigger

- Due date is 19th June 2020 so you have plenty of time!!

- When submitting please tag me @itsunclebucky and use the tag #itsunclebuckyswritingchallenge so I can read them all!

- That’s it. If you have any questions, feel free to send me a message!! Let’s have some fun. :)

- If need be I’ll add more prompts!

Dialogue Prompts:

1. “I can’t believe I’m sitting in space jail with you of all people.”

2. “Are you even listening?” - “Yes, it just takes me a while to process so much stupid all at once.”

3.”Damn right I’m pretty.” - I said petty.” - ( @mushyjellybeans with Bucky)

4. “I saw that. You just checked me out.”

5. “Are you stupid or stupid?”

6. “Are you scared?” - “No. I have this terrified look on my face ‘cause I’m so having so. Much. fun.” - ( @criminal-cookies with Bucky)

7. “I’m no detective, of course. But I think this dead body might not be alive anymore.”

8. “You’re an assassin?!” - “We’ve been friends for literally two days. Why are you so shocked?” - “I just thought I’d get a normal friend for once.” - “What do you mean ‘for once’?”

9. “I’m not great at the advice, can I interest you in a sarcastic comment?” - ( @shakespeareanqueer)

10. “When did you become so smart?” - “When I stopped listening to you.” - ( @nekoannie-chan with Steve) - ( @captainchrisstan with Bucky)

11. “Just say it. Tell me that this was never going to work. Tell me you’re leaving.” - “No. I’m asking you to come with me.” - ( @buckythewhitewolfx with Bucky)

12. “Isn’t this illegal?” - “Probably.” - ( @jobean12-blog with Bucky) - ( @this-kitten-is-smitten with Bucky)

13. “I feel like everyone just forgot I exist.” - ( @just-trying-to-survive-marvel with Steve)

14. “No, I’m not letting you go. It’s too early to get out of bed.” - ( @littledarlinwrites with Bucky)

15. “I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.” - ( @kitkatd7 with Bucky)

16. “What? Does that feel good?” - ( @littledarlinwrites with Bucky) - ( @ellie-scribble with Bucky)

17. “Just pretend to be my date.” - ( @sebastiansloserclub with Bucky)

18. “How’s the meeting?” - “I want to stab everyone.” - “Don’t get blood on your dress. We have dinner reservations at seven.” - “Love you for enabling me.” - “Love you too.” - ( @constantaking with Bucky)

19. “Are you wearing my shirt?” - ( @sebbbystaaan with Peter Parker) ( @simsadventures with Bucky Barnes)

20. “We can’t be friends anymore. I will always see you as something else.”

Movie Quote Prompts: 1. "That is my least vulnerable spot." - Casablanca 2. "I'm just one stomach flu away from my goal weight." - The Devil Wears Prada - ( @godofplumsandthunder with Thor) - ( @clorise1210 with Peter Parker) 3. "I'm about to do to you what Limp Bizkit did to music in the late '90s." - Deadpool 4. "'Greater good?' I am your wife! I'm the greatest good you're ever gonna get!" - The Incredibles 5. "Is that all he said?" - Lost in Translation 6. "Excuse me. I believe you have my stapler." - Office Space 7. "It's the first time I've ever seen you look ugly. And that makes me kind of happy." - Bridesmaids 8. "I learned a long time ago that worrying is like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do but it doesn't get you anywhere. - National Lampoon's Van Wilder - ( @godofplumsandthunder with Bucky) 9. "Just when I think you couldn't possibly be any dumber, you go and do somethin' like this -- and totally redeem yourself” - Dumb and Dumber. 10. "Hey, don't knock masturbation. It's sex with someone I love." - Annie Hall 11. “If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a ball”- Dodgeball 12. “He slimed me.” - Ghostbusters 13. “Roads? Where we’re going we don’t need roads.” - Back to The Future 14. “You can be my wingman anytime.” - Top Gun 15. “I Don’t Get It.” - Big

Tagging some who may be interested: @simsadventures @jobean12-blog @the-ss-horniest-book-club @criminal-cookies @littledarlinhavefaithinme @emmandhercoffecrisp @katbtracy @ninjabucky @mushyjellybeans @sebbbystaaan @this-kitten-is-smitten @loricameback @book-dragon-13 @your-highnessmarvel @sebastiansloserclub

#itsunclebuckyswritingchallenge #writing challenge #prompts #dialogue prompts #movie quotes #itsunclebucky #bucky barnes imagine #imagines #daily reblog #300 writing challenge #300 followers #celebration #kallie writes

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allthevmff · 2 years

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Don't Drink and Paint

by Oliviet / @tvfanatic

I was challenged to turn watching paint dry into a drinking game. I polled Twitter on if L and V should be together, just friends, or kinda hate each other for this game, and "kinda hate each other" won. This is the result.

Set in a college AU where Logan and Veronica never dated in high school, but maintained their same circle of friends. Also in an imaginary world where college students can just buy houses...roll with it.

My gift to you, AliLamba. I hope this is what you had in mind.

Words: 3498, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Categories: F/M

Characters: Veronica Mars, Logan Echolls, Cindy "Mac" Mackenzie (Veronica Mars), Wallace Fennel, Parker Lee, Stosh "Piz" Piznarski, Jackie Cook, Dick Casablancas

Relationships: Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars

Additional Tags: Humor, Angst, drinking game

Story @ https://ift.tt/3zhiqTg

#vmfanfic #veronicamarsfanfiction #veronicamarsfanfic #vm fanfic #veronica mars fanfic #vm fic #logan x veronica #vm fanfiction

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iamnmbr3 · 4 years

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Quarantine Fic Rec List Part 1

Since we’re all bored/stressed in quarantine, I thought I’d do a couple of rec lists. For this one I’m mostly doing some very well written but more unusual fics that you might not have come across before. I’ve listed the fandom and ships for each.

So Much More Than That by brocanteur (complete | 4,005 | T | Mean Girls; Regina George/Cady Heron )

"And she missed Cady Heron. She missed her and blamed her for everything." Post-film.

The Richest Men In Town by copperbadge (complete | 2,476 | G | It’s A Wonderful Life)

George Bailey, a year after meeting the angel Clarence (second-class), gets a message from Clarence via an unlikely third party: H.F. Potter.

A Marital Education by Yahtzee (complete | 12,707 | M | Pride & Prejudice; Elizabeth/Darcy; period typical)

Darcy's impotent.

The Kindness of Men by debit (complete | 2,476 | G | Black Beauty; Fixit)

The last time Ginger saw Black Beauty, she'd said, "I wish the end was come, I wish I was dead. I have seen dead horses, and I am sure they do not suffer pain."

Once Around the Block by ecouterbien (complete | 1,134 | M | The Drop; Bob Saginowski/Nadia Dunne)

She was shaking when he let her out of the bar, and it wasn’t because of the cold. It wasn’t even a long walk to her house, a block and a half at most, but it was the longest walk she ever remembered taking. She counted every breath, every footstep, all the time listening for his steps on the sidewalk behind her. He wouldn’t just let her go like that, would he? Not after what she’d seen him do.

You look so Seattle by chaosmanor (complete | 8,955 | T | Venom )

Eddie and Venom are in Seattle chasing leads. Shit gets blown up. And there's fish.

A Princess And A Guy Like Me by Yahtzee (complete | 7,107 | T | Rapunzel/Flynn Rider)

“Rapunzel has never had choices before. I want her to have choices now.”

I nodded. “Absolutely.”

He meant, at least in part, choices of guys to marry who were not impoverished orphans/recently reformed thieves.

gunna pass me to that house above by deadendtracks (amonitrate) (complete | 625 | T | Peaky Blinders )

This wasn’t the trenches but it was the closest Alfie’d been to pinned down since he got back, and while Tommy wasn’t exactly a friend, that didn’t make him an enemy, now, did it.

A Broken Soul by wheatear (complete | 4,529 | G | Harry Potter)

What exactly is the nature of a soul? And when Lord Voldemort so willingly split his own soul in half, what damage did he do to himself?

dying out on burnt rage by lunaskeeper (complete | 2,576 | M | Peaky Blinders; Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons; period typical attitudes, POV outsider )

John hadn’t seen the same, trapped look in Tommy’s eyes in his office. And all of a sudden it was bubbling out of John’s mouth, a question he'd been pondering since he’d met Stefan’s shaky gaze with his own.

“Have you ever sucked cock?”

Rara Avis by Coryphasia (complete | 14,854 | G | My Fair Lady)

The night after the Embassy Ball, Eliza Doolittle walked out on Henry Higgins and disappeared. Three years later, she returns to see if wrongs can be made right

'til the walls did crumble by arahir (complete | 3,742 | G | Game of Thrones’ Jon/Tormund)

Jon Snow and Tormund Giantsbane and their giant dog go camping with a bunch of Wildlings. What happens next will SHOCK you. (They are buddies who fall in love lmao.)

“Not worried, are you?”

“For a crow boy? Never.” Tormund looks away, off toward the mountains in the distance where the Fist of the First Men sits as a jut of stone in the ice fields, which are turning greener day by day. “Don’t let them keep you down there, Jon Snow. Don't die in the South."

Be Careful What You Wish For by The_Necroposter (complete | 225,838 | M | Twilight; very dark, spitefic, horror, proceed with care; skip to the end for an author’s note in which the writer epically calls out the problematic aspects of the original canon )

What if Breaking Dawn wasn't a Mary Sue fantasy, but a story with a plot, character development, and consequences? What if Bella's transformation actually was a sacrifice, and not only her getting used to an alien body was a challenge, but also staying alive in a world filled with enemies? Find out how a naive, selfish girl grows up and copes with the biggest mistake of her life.

Naming of the Beast by NeurotropicAgentX (complete | 1,316 | T | Venom; pre-canon symbiote world building)

Consciousness hit like a wave, like a signal, like an attack. There had been nothing and now there was a jumble of concepts and thoughts and impulses. It writhed and thrashed, at once realising that it had a body that could do this, that could express this new consciousness.

It screeched.

Sequence by NeurotropicAgentX (complete | 2,882 | E | Venom; sort of Venom/Riot - pre-canon symbiote world building)

I’ve never encountered anything like those blades you formed during your hunt, Venom sent, carefully, cautiously.

I acquired them on a mission. There’s a lot of interesting information to be found out there. Riot’s close-range chemical messages carried strange accents of complex biomolecules Venom had never felt before. The taste was a clear indication of just how much of Riot must have been shaped by past hosts and alien genetic information from beyond the stars. Venom wanted.

Show me? it asked.

No Living Man by ElanaBrooks (complete | 732 | G | Lord of the Rings; Parody)

In which the Witch King learns that, for an inhabitant of Middle Earth, the knowledge that no living man can harm you is no reason to get cocky. AU, Humor.

Here is a truth (here is another truth) by SecondStarOnTheLeft (complete | 2,012 | M | Pirates of the Caribbean; James Norrington/Elizabeth Swann )

Here is a truth: James Norrington loves his wife, but he is completely incapable of believing that she might return the compliment.

Here is another truth: Elizabeth Norrington, née Swann, is a much more patient woman than she has ever been given credit for.

Bahamian-Style Mooring by syllic (complete | 10,370 | G | Shawshank Redemption)

Five times Red got things in Zihuatanejo (and one time he didn’t need to get anything).

Lunch and Other Obscenities by Rheanna (complete | 9,717 | G | Star Trek 2009; background Spock/Uhura)

Nyota liked her roommate just fine until she met her.

Nom de Coeur by Dorinda (complete | 12,725 | G | Casablanca; Rick/Louis)

This looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship--but beginnings are only seeds, and it's a long way to Brazzaville.

Five Ways to Stop Being a Princess by igrockspock (complete | 3,560 | T | Star Wars; Han/Leia )

1. Spend a night in the smuggling compartments of the Millennium Falcon 2. Learn to fire a blaster without closing your eyes 3. Get drunk and go to bed with an unsuitable man 4. Yell at people who ask if you're okay 5. Go to bed with an unsuitable man even when you're sober

elioenai by Anonymous (complete | 6,002 | G | MCU Daemon AU )

Tony falls through the space between worlds. As a result, he can see daemons. It kind of freaks him out. (It's stranger and more beautiful than he could have ever imagined.)

The Sergeant and the Captain by OddityBoddity (complete | 7,316 | G | MCU )

The Sergeant and the Captain, or, The True and Accurate Reports Chronicling the Well-being of the Shield-brothers James Barnes and Steven Rogers, Faithfully Submitted by Thor Odinson to Maria Hill, Director.

Special Circumstances Questionnaire for Sexual Partners (Male): Long Form by coruscera (impractica), linbot (complete | 1,320 | E | Fandom Culture Parody )

Does having sex with you entail becoming married, whether legally, magically, physiologically, or some other de facto permanent relationship? Y/N If Yes, please describe our new life together.

#fic rec #fandom #fanfiction #random musings #quarantine rec list #coronavirus #quarantine #Star Wars #Star Trek #classical literature #classics #MCU #Harry Potter #Marvel

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lecorcure · 4 years

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La sirène

(#30jourspourécrire - Day 29 - thème : « La sirène »)

Face au fleuve de jade, 29 août 2020 (déjà !)

Cher challenge de 30 jours qui se termine (presque),

Oh ! Heyyy ! Tu es comme ça, toi, tu me proposes aujourd’hui le thème de la sirène alors que j’ai dû prononcer ce mot je ne sais combien de fois, l’écrire deux fois en tout cas ces deux derniers jours y compris en regardant les nuages ! T’es comme ça, toi ?

Évidemment, je n’avais pas vu le thème du jour. Alors, tu peux comprendre mon sourire ce matin. En fait je dois t’avouer que je n’ai pas attendu. J’ai souri dès mon réveil avant tes facéties.

Cher challenge de 30 jours. T’es magique dans les entournures quand même, tu le sais, ça ? Et puis entre Ophelia ou Mélusine qui occupent pas mal de place dans mon imaginaire (et dans mes écritures), tu crois que, tout au bord du fleuve de jade, je vais me laisser, comme ça, amadouer par ton doux chant de sirène ?

Tiens, tu l’auras voulu. Moteur !

Travelling avant

Toc, toc badaboum, je te fais Bébel dans le rôle de Louis qui retrouve sa Sirène du Mississipi devant la caméra de Truffaut et lance à Marion (Catherine Deneuve), comme ça, toc, toc badaboum : « J’ai vu sur votre visage l’expression du bonheur comme je ne l’avais jamais vu ».

Plan de coupe

On entend la voix de Gaspard jurer ses grands dieux qu’on ne l’y reprendra pas dans les choses de l’amour avec son cœur blessé. Et puis voilà qu’elle débarque des débordements de la Seine. Malzieu poétise et Gaspard fond, c’est très notable sur ce plan de coupe. Il fait ses yeux de loukoum quand elle le regarde. Ça se voit. Faudrait être aveugle pour ne pas voir qu’il tombe sous le charme d’une « Sirène à Paris ». Je ne suis qu’un sale romantique, mon cœur robinsonne.

Plan fixe sous-marin

« La forme de l’eau ». Tu crois que tu débarques dans un mauvais film de série Z. Et paf (badaboum), tu embarques avec la sirène devenue monstre. Il y a ce je ne sais quoi d’Amelie Poulain dans cette fable aux couleurs et à la poésie empruntées à Jeunet.

Et puis cette réplique culte qui fait fondre encore mon cœur-loukoum :

« Unable to perceive the shape of you, I find you all around me. Your presence fills my eyes with your love. It humbles my heart, for you are everywhere ».

Tu es partout.

BO du film

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Travelling arrière

Amélie. Je fonds. Elle regarde le énième « déjeuner des canotiers » peint par l’homme de verre aux os cassants :

« Vous savez, la fille au verre d'eau, si elle a l'air un peu à côté, c'est peut-être parce qu'elle est en train de penser à quelqu'un ».

Gros plan sur l’eau

Peter Pan rassure Wendy, copieusement arrosée par les sirènes du Pays imaginaire :

- « Elles voulaient juste s’amuser ! »

- « Bien sûr, nous voulions simplement la noyer ! », confirme l’une des sirènes.

Peter Pan est mon héros depuis si longtemps. J’arrive parfois à lui chiper de la poussière d’atmosphère (légale hein, j’aime pas la drogue, ma seule drogue c’est la vie. D’accord, j’avoue, un peu la cigarette aussi, #cémaletcépasbienjesais).

Final de comédie musicale

Fred Astaire chante au paradis et finit dans une danse inoubliable avec Ginger Rogers sur « Cheek to Cheek »; Ingrid Bergman (oh là là) est de retour au « Rick’s café » de Casablanca et demande à Sam de rejouer la chanson interdite « As time goes by » alors que ce nain de Bogart entre dans la pièce; Bill Muray et Scarlett Johansson - me rendent dingue dans ce film - courent comme des fous dans Tokyo en tombant amoureux et vont définitivement basculer en karaoke sur « More than this » qui demande : « Why the sea on the tide ? »

Oui, pourquoi la mer ? Pourquoi la marée ? Et pourquoi les sirènes ? C’est pas un beau bouquet final, ça ?

Générique de fin (en accéléré)

Je reste plongé dans le noir et pendant que la salle se vide, je regarde tous les titres des musiques, les crédits des chansons. J’aime tellement ce petit moment. Tellement.

Ça défile. Trop vite. Comme d’habitude. Mon cœur s’emballe. Je cherche mon souffle. Ça fuse. Amélie. Bébel. De petits baisers délicats d’une premiere rencontre sur le pas de la porte. Quelle scène ! Mais où est passé Kassovitz ? Respirer. En apnée sous l’eau comme une femme-poisson. Fred Astaire se prend les pieds dans la queue de la Petite sirène. Où est Kassovitz ?? Non, que personne ne vide la baignoire de la Sirène à Paris ! Ça bat vite, vite, vite. Écran noir, je crois. Kassovitz, t’es où Malotru ? Je ne sens plus mes mains. Respirer. Dériver. Souffler. Inspirer. Me noyer ! Expirer ? L’autre rive ? Je n’entends plus rien. Sauf la sirène. La sirène ! Des pompiers...

Cher challenge de 30 jours. Tu m’as fait tourner la tête avec ta magie. T’es un looping, un saut à l’élastique avec un verre de fine fleur à la main, une farandole dans les étoiles. La course au ralenti de deux mains qui s’effleurent.

Vivement demain, tiens ! Je n’ose regarder le thème du dernier jour. Déconne pas steup ! Le chant du fleuve m’appelle. Je veux voir sur son visage « l’expression du bonheur comme je ne l’avais jamais vu ».

Qu’est-ce que ça aurait été avec l’autre thème du jour « Au bord du vide » ? Te dis pas ! J’ai le vertige. Il est très exactement 11:11. Et je pense à elle, à L.

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#30jourspourécrire #melusine #ophelia

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littlehen · 4 years

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About Me Quiz

Hello, @buttonhouseparty here, a rose by any other name etc etc. This is my contribution to that challenge that’s been going round based on the Some Things About Me song. As usual I have massively overthought this, so answers placed under a cut.

my name - Hen

my age - 30-something (what is this, the census?)

my favourite colour - Duck-egg blue / teal

my height - 5’6”

my sign - ‘Do Not Disturb’

do I have a lover? - Nope, fingers burned.

what’s my nationality? - British and pro-EU. Accent is generic English BBC Radio 4.

here are some things that inspire me - Animals. My best friend. Witty writing. Happy accidents.

my favourite food - Baklava.

my current mood - From this age onwards I suspect the answer will always be ‘tired’.

and my shoe size - UK 6.5 - and nowhere does half-sizes :(

this is my favourite tv show - BBC Ghosts! I can’t remember ever falling for another show so hard. The Thick of It. Call My Agent. Au service de la France. I grew up with The Young Ones and Victoria Wood. On radio I love Cabin Pressure, John Finnemore’s Souvenir Programme and The Adam Buxton Podcast. When I was little, we had a long drive to school and my mum always put on funny cassettes like Hancock’s Half Hour, Dad’s Army, Beachcomber, Old Harry’s Game, Billy Connolly - which I see now was an attempt to make us shut up, but it taught me to love great comedy. I have a history BA so I also love a living history programme - Lucy Worsley, Ruth Goodman et al.

and my favourite animal - Cats. Seals.

i’ve got this many tattoos - None. I can’t imagine making a lifelong commitment to any particular image or sentiment.

my favourite song and my favourite movie - Feel the Need in Me by the Detroit Emeralds, I just like the plodding beat and that stupid video makes me smile. For film, either Casablanca, The Apartment or Withnail & I.

my hair is this long - Ideally a short brown bob like Fleabag, but hard to maintain during lockdown.

what I wanna grow up to be - Happy? Solvent? Career-wise, I still don’t know. I’ve been in and out of bookselling since I was 16, but I’ve done a variety of other jobs, including secretarial, interning on a national tabloid, TV copywriting; did an MA; and I was even a Proper Author for a while, but inspiration and confidence dried up when I was bereaved, and in 2020 my literary agent ditched me. I’d love to be an editor but have no clue how to get into it and I’ve got too old for an entry-level position.

here’s a nickname I go by - see first answer

and some things I never tried - [redacted]

do I have a pet? - Three idiot cats and a long dog.

have I named it yet? - I get that this question rhymes, but as if anyone goes round just calling their pet ‘Cat’ like Holly Golightly. My pets all have sensible human names.

what shade are my eyes? - Big and blue.

here’s my favourite cereal - A bit of everything in the cupboard, all mixed up (chaotic something or other). Cinnamon Toast if I had to pick one.

and a place I’d like to go - Always Scotland. Japan in the autumn - nature and old world culture, temples, museums. Australia in the winter because I’m a wimp. I’ve been round the south of China but I want to see a lot more, especially the west - pandas in Chengdu and terracotta warriors in Xian. I’ve done lots of European travel, mostly Italy, and interrailed in Scandinavia but my favourite was Norway because of the lovely people, and I’d like to go there again. Oh, and America - some big national park, anywhere with mountains reaching up to a vast blue sky, a lake and a log cabin and the possibility of bears. After a year stuck indoors, I’d like to go anywhere, really.

here are some habits that I do - Self-destructively ignore texts and emails. Clench my jaw. Type long answers to silly questions.

Thanks @silverfox-hunter for tagging me and thank you to everyone who has done this challenge already, it’s been fun learning more about you guys! I’m not going to tag anyone because ✨a n x i e t y✨

#some things abt me #about me quiz #i wish there was a consistent tag in use for this so we could all find each other #pls don't reblog this

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ostaranight · 4 years

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Inspo Behind “Rain in Konoha”

I have a lot (and still growing) inspiration for this fic, but this is some of the stuff that started it all, when combined with my already existing interest in the era...

This is a Man’s World covered by Amber Skye Noyes (James Brown song cover) - this song might be something that Temari sings in a future chapter. For the period, I see her as challenging the conventions of what is expected of a woman (and even what Shikamaru believes of her) but she is still living in a “man’s world” though the song points out(and I’m sure she would too) that men “wouldn’t mean nothing without a woman, without a woman or a girl.”

Your Heart is as Black as Night by Melody Gardot - I can’t help it... this just seems so fitting for Temari to sing about Shikamaru or maybe even a little spitefully at him. Partly because his shadow justu has the connotation of being “black as night” to me along with his heart. But, honestly, everything I’ve heard from Melody Gardot so far. I have been sticking her music and a bit from Postmodern Jukebox on a writing playlist that I listen too when working on this story.

The movie Casablanca, it may be cliche to say this - but watching it really inspired me and got me in the mood to think out the full plot. Something so powerful in this melancholy movie where outside forces play such a huge role to the characters’ destinies and relationships. Plus it defined the genre of noir.

More inspiration...

I’m definitely in love with the clothing of the period. The suits the men wear the dresses of the ladies. I honestly can’t imagine dressing up everyday in such a way - as I’m often the picture of casual and I don’t think I’ve ever been described as fashionable. But I love looking at pictures. This means I’ll do a random internet search, but I’ve also specifically looked up pictures of Marylin Monroe, because how could I not?

LA Confidential (movie) - The corruption of the city that is a part of the picturesque city of Los Angeles in the 1950′s. The blonde “damsel” who has secrets and isn’t to be fully trusted. (That may sound just a little familiar...)

Sin City (movie) - I keep thinking of the voice overs, the drama, the colors, and the rain. It’s such a stylized movie that I haven’t seen for a long while but still visually and stylistically sticks in my head... even if I don’t fully remember the plot/stories.

I was already writing RiK when I discovered the season of Archer done in noir style (Season 8) which is pretty great. I’m a fan of Archer anyway, but they’ve found a way to explore and embrace a bunch of AU’s for their characters after the show’s initial seasons. I’m a fan of the art style and humor too, so it was an unexpected win win, win for me.

I recently got the video game LA Noir as a gift - I haven’t started playing it yet, but I’ve heard really great things, so I’m looking forward to it. The fun part about that is that the person who gifted it to me doesn’t know about RiK, but I guess my interest in the era/genre shines through.

I’m all about that mood.

#Rain In Konoha #inspiration #my fic #RiK inspo

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just-come-baek · 5 years

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Jewels

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Themes: smut | adventure!au | archeologist!reader | dodger!jk

Word count: 16.1k (whoops!)

Summary: Nobody said it’s going to be easy, but when Jeon Jungkook, the handsome troublemaker, tags along on my adventure, my simple trip morphs into a life-threatening mission. I was to find an ancient necklace and gain fame in the archeology field, but thanks to Jungkook’s mischief, we also attracted lots of unnecessary attention and plenty of enemies.

Warnings: unprotected sex (there’s a lot going on, and I’m not gonna spoil it here), foul language, questionable loyalty

A/N lightly inspired by adventure movies such as Tomb Rider, The Mummy, Indiana Jones, and maybe others but unconsciously

***

The first thing which hit me when I left the airport was the heat; it was scorching hot, humidity was unquestionably above seventy percent, and I knew my stay in Casablanca wasn’t going to be as pleasant as I had expected it to be regardless of being used to high temperatures. I could make it, though. Casablanca was just a stop before I’d head further toward my destination.

Adjusting my straw hat which almost got blown away by a sudden wave of sizzling wind, I grabbed my suitcase and headed to the taxi rank. My hotel was only fifteen minutes away from the airport, but I wouldn’t risk getting sunstroke at the very beginning of my journey.

Thankfully, the taxi driver spoke English.

It was the only upside, unfortunately, since I almost died inside the vehicle without air-conditioning. The driver was unbothered, and I wondered how the hell he could withstand such conditions. Or how people could endure such weather in general.

“First time in Casablanca?” The driver started, glancing at me in the stained rearview mirror.

“No,” I lied, “I come here every year,” I added, knowing better not to disclose such information as he might’ve taken advantage of me, the naïve and inexperienced tourist. “It feels like home,” I added, looking through the window, admiring the beautiful scenery while the taxi driver hummed in acknowledgment as he turned to the left.

“Have a nice stay,” he respectfully spoke as he handed me my suitcase, and I paid the fare.

“Thank you,” I replied, smiling at him brightly, glad he drove directly to my hotel and not around the whole city at least twice.

Blowing the fringe off my forehead, I clenched the suitcase with one hand, undoing two first buttons of my thin white blouse with the other one, desperately trying to cool off.

“That’s it, it’s your shot, don’t fucking waste it,” I muttered to myself, hoping the pep talk would help me not chicken out. It was my only chance, or I would be royally screwed in more sense than one. My career wouldn't be the only thing ruined.

Having delivered the motivational speech to myself, I raised my head high and went into the hotel. Unlike any other hotels, the one in which I was staying was flea-bitten; half of the bulbs weren’t working, dust was everywhere, and the smell of sweat and dirt hung in the air. Too bad, I couldn’t afford the night in a four-star hotel nearby.

On the bright side, I’m staying here only for one night.

Confidently, I reached the front desk, telling the receptionist personal information so he could give me the keys to the room booked under my name. Although he spoke pidgin English, I could pick up most of the instructions he needed to relay.

Though my room was of the best quality they could provide, I still had a handful of reasons to complain. I wasn’t going to, though. It was already nine o’clock in the evening, and knowing me, dirty windows or empty mini refrigerator or broken air-conditioning wouldn’t agitate me that much after a couple of drinks at the hotel’s bar.

Not bothering to unpack, I opened the window, hoping to air the room, so when I'd have returned it would be more bearable to survive the night.

“You got this,” I egged on, staring at my reflection in the stained mirror. “People will write about you in papers when you find that jewel.” I continued as I reapplied my red lipstick.

Most of the scientists believe the Aminata’s accessory is a myth, but I was going to find it, earning the glory and fame in archeology environment. The necklace is made of African’s biggest blood-red ruby, decorated with twelve large diamonds, and it said to have supernatural properties.

Four thousand years ago, Aminata was the most beautiful woman on the entire African continent, and though she didn’t have a wealthy background, no man could resist her beauty. Many wanted to marry her, and some of whom were ready to kill for her grace.

On her sixteenth birthday, a handsome nobleman paid her a visit. Enchanted by her beauty, he gave her the necklace which was a token of his feelings for her. The blood-red ruby symbolized he would execute anyone who dared to look into her eyes. The diamonds, depending on two different translations signified either all the lifetimes he was going to love her or the purity of his feelings.

He claimed her, but the attention she was receiving from other men grew. Whatever her desire was, she had plenty of volunteers to fulfill it. Despite the dazzling pendant around her neck, men still yearn for the tiniest bit of her attention, whereas women hated her enormously being driven by envy.

When sun descended behind the horizon and the moon shined brightly, a few high-positioned women (a few women with high-positioned husbands) went to an enchantress, inclined to sacrifice everything for Aminata’s death. In exchange for their tongues, the enchantress locked Aminata’s beauty in the necklace.

Aminata’s charms were gone the second the necklace got stolen by one of the women, Yaya. She possessed the beauty and forced the men to kill Aminata. They scarred her beautiful face and defiled her body, and when she begged for mercy, Yaya slid her throat.

When the night fell, the women commanded their slaves to take Aminata’s body on the boat and bury her corpse in a cave on one of the inhabited islands. Tempted to keep the necklace, Yaya earned disrespect from the other women. Out of hatred, the women locked out Yaya in the tomb with Aminata.

The necklace remains lost until now, but I’m about to change that. I studied the Senegalese legends for two years, writing my master degree paper on it, and I am determined to find it, shaking up the entire archeology field. It may be dangerous, but I am willing to face the odds if that means the Aminata’s necklace becomes mine.

Checking my appearance one more time in the mirror, I threw the bag over my shoulder, ready to get wasted. Maybe it was the last time I had a chance to get drunk, so I was going to make the best of my current situation even though a lot of aspects could be improved.

As soon as I walked inside, I felt all the eyes on me. Maybe ten people were seated in the bar, and all of them were men, so I wasn’t surprised by the commotion I was making. Ignoring their nasty stares, I sat down on a barstool, waiting for the bartender to approach me.

“What can I get you?” The bartender asked in English, sensing I was a foreigner, and I smiled, staring at the bottles of alcohol which was sitting on the shelves behind him. It's my first time traveling alone, and given the circumstances, it may be my last, so I assumed it was an excellent opportunity to try something new and experiment a little.

“I’ll have a glass of bourbon with a lot of ice,” I ordered, and the bartender nodded.

“Put it on my tab,” a man, who was sitting two barstools away from me, spoke, as he tilted his glass a little, sending me a smirk. “What such a pretty little thing is doing in such a shabby place like this?” He inquired, his doe eyes scanning my frame.

“Getting hit on by random dudes,” I retorted, thanking the bartender who brought my order.

“Feisty, I like feisty,” he commented as he jumped off his barstool, taking the one beside me. “I’m Jungkook, and you are?” He introduced himself, offering a handshake which I hesitantly accepted. “What a pretty name,” he said when he heard me say it.

“And what are you doing here?” I curiously asked, cocking up my eyebrow. “You don’t exactly fit in here,” I pinpointed as I tasted the bitter drink which did not suit my preferences.

“Not as much as you,” Jungkook challenged, and I rolled my eyes at his hesitation to disclose any information about him. Either he was very secretive by nature, or he was hiding something, and I wasn’t going to be one of his victims if he was plotting something vicious.

“I am an archeologist,” I started, thinking how much I could tell him without risking anything. I was alone in a foreign country, I had to be cautious. “And I’m staying in Casablanca for one night before I join my crew in Algeria,” I added, hoping my deception was believable. “And what about you?”

Jungkook turned to me so I could have a better look on his sun-kissed skin, doe and innocent eyes, veiny forearms, muscular arms, his messy brown hair, and his toned chest which I could admire because of the deep neckline of his shirt. He sat there, effortlessly looking like a cover model, and his attention was entirely on me.

It was weird. I had to travel across the world to be noticed by a handsome male, while in my hometown guys drooled over girls with overdrawn eyebrows when I was literally there, waiting to be hit on.

Outrageous!

“I’m a freelance writer.” Jungkook easily answered, and I wondered why he didn’t want to admit that in the first place. He was just a stranger; I had no reason to not believe him. People would do much more than lying if that meant they could get laid. “You know… guidebooks and sometimes articles in travel magazines. And sometimes, I help people around the town.”

“That’s interesting; tell me more,” I urged him, sipping my drink. I had nothing better to do, so I might as well listen to his story. Apparently, Jungkook had traveled much more than I had, so he must’ve had a few stories to share. Also, his experience could be useful.

“What’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you hear Casablanca?” Jungkook inquired, and I hummed, thinking about my answer. When I didn’t speak after a few seconds, Jungkook cleared his throat, “a lot of people associate Casablanca with that 1944 movie under the same title, and therefore – love. And currently, I write a guidebook, or maybe even an actual novel about different forms of love here. It may be something cliché-ridden like a newly-wedded couple making out on the beach, or something simple like a florist who gives flowers to beautiful girls free of charge. And frankly, I think Casablanca is more romantic than Paris.”

“Paris is so overrated,” I commented, nodding my head, as I agreed with him. Although I had never been to Paris, I had heard tales. Perhaps, I haven’t explored Casablanca the way the city deserves it, but I could tell it gave off that dreamy vibe.

“And what are you going to dig up, huh?” Jungkook casually asked as he whistled at the bartender, wanting a refill. Of course, he was curious. How could he be not?

“Are you seriously interested?” I questioned, and Jungkook eagerly nodded, smiling at me encouragingly. “Well… you are the first person who is excited to hear about me digging up pots.” I joked, and Jungkook chuckled at me almost lovingly. The Casablanca’s atmosphere must’ve got to him. “Have you ever heard about Aminata?” Jungkook shook his head.

“Is it something to eat?” He guessed, but he couldn’t be more wrong.

“No, Jungkook, it’s not food,” I clarified before I told him the legend purposefully missing, changing or adding minor details out of pure paranoia. I was being mistrustful, but it was my once-in-a-lifetime chance, and I couldn’t hand it over to a random guy in a hotel’s bar. My dignity wouldn’t allow me to come back home without it, and no matter how ridiculously good-looking Jungkook was, I wasn’t going to get distracted.

“Wow,” he said, impressed, “it’s tragic. Romantic, but tragic.”

“I guess.”

“Are you really going to find it?” Jungkook asked, and I firmly nodded. I would find that bloody necklace, or I’d die trying. “There’s one more question I want to ask; what made you want to become an archeologist? As far as I know, it’s a rare profession.”

“I suppose I’ve Indiana Jones one time too many,” I answered, and Jungkook laughed genuinely, and without any doubt, it was the most adorable sound I had heard in a long time.

“You really are something, aren’t you?” Jungkook challenged, and I shrugged shyly. I could feel his intense stare, and it made me feel weak. His huge eyes were looking into mine; his smile was wide and bright. “It’s so easy to talk to you. I could talk to you all night long.”

“Likewise,” I said shamelessly, finishing my drink, feeling quite buzzed.

“Rahim!” Jungkook hollered at the bartender. “Can we take this bottle to go?” The bartender approached us and placed the half-full bottle of bourbon on the counter.

“Add it to your tab, too?” Rahim asked, and Jungkook simply nodded, grabbing the bottle.

“Come with me, I want to show you something,” Jungkook jumped off the barstool, waiting for me to do the same, and when I was on my feet, he interlaced our fingers together. Quickly, I grabbed my glass, and we left the bar behind us.

“Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see soon enough.”

***

“It’s beautiful,” I said in admiration, as I looked at the pink sky; the sun was about to descend fully, and the colors across the horizon mixed stunningly. “Maybe the hotel doesn’t have many stars, but the view is marvelous,” I added, and Jungkook hummed in agreement.

“It would make a great postcard, wouldn’t it?” Jungkook sighed, and I pulled out my phone to snap a few pictures of the most beautiful sunset I had ever seen. “You know what’s also beautiful?” He asked, staring at me.

“Let me guess,” I muttered, paying him little attention. I was too engrossed in the view in front of me, so I was barely aware of what was going on around me. “Me?” I replied carelessly, as I had a feeling Jungkook was going to say something cheesy.

“Quite conceited, aren’t you?” Jungkook teased, and I blinked, realizing what I just said. “I wanted to say the lighthouse over there, but I must admit you’re not wrong,” he elaborated as he walked toward me, standing just behind my back.

“Sorry, I just assumed you tried to hit on me again,” I apologized, and Jungkook chuckled.

“I did, but in a less cringe-worthy way,” he agreed, and I turned to look at him; he was so close, and the warmth was emitting from his body made me question what was hotter – the weather itself or just he. “You ruined the mood, but are you at least a bit swooned?”

“Not really,” I answered honestly since my previous response was quite excruciating. “But I’m really into you so I wouldn’t really mind if you wanted to show me your room,” I added boldly, and Jungkook smirked, turning slightly, so his side was brushing against me.

“I hope you wouldn’t mind a little teaser,” I smiled, and Jungkook leaned forward to press a cautious kiss against my lips. As if tasting the waters, he gently nipped my lips, and when I kissed him back, he relaxed, moving against my mouth more courageously.

When he slowly pulled away and looked me in the eyes, I licked my lips before I said, “This won’t do; I need more.” Jungkook smirked mischievously, happy that I was thinking the same thing he did. There was no need to play dumb; I wanted him, and Jungkook wanted me, so it was pointless to play hard to get. Tomorrow, I was going to start my journey, and right now, Jungkook looked at me as if he wanted to devour me; a promise of unforgettable night glistened in his beautiful eyes, and I’d be a complete idiot if I rejected him. “Much more.”

I hadn’t been fucked properly for way too long, and now, I was going to have my brains fucked out. It was going to be the best lay of my life, so in case it would be my last, I definitely wasn't to regret it.

“Fuck yes,” Jungkook hollered cheerfully, as he cupped my face, and once again kissed me, making my legs shake under my weight. He was passionate and energetic, and that combination really got to my head; it was what I needed to ease the stress which had been accumulating in my body ever since I had decided to find the Aminata’s necklace.

“I’m not gonna put up a show here,” I warned him when his hand slid under my blouse. I had no problem with his touch; quite contrary, I’d urge him to caress my skin if he didn’t do it by now, but letting other people see me writhing under his ministrations? Never.

“There’s nothing you should be embarrassed about,” Jungkook said, gawking at me as if I was a piece of meat. “You’re gorgeous,” he added, leaning down to suck on my neck, while his palm still roamed around my stomach, upwards to my breasts.

“Still,” I whispered, as I closed my eyes, “I want you to be only one seeing me like this,” I continued, telling him that tonight, I belonged to him only. “But I hope everyone will hear me screaming your name when you make me come.”

“You know how to get me in the mood,” Jungkook admitted, and I smirked, as a sudden wave of confidence washed through me. Usually, I’d never do that, but the atmosphere and the circumstances and Jungkook made me act without putting much thought into my actions. Right now, I was bold and determined to have the night of my dreams with a stranger, and I couldn’t care any less about the consequences. None of it mattered anyway.

“Jungkook,” I moaned when his large hand massaged the inner side of my thigh. Instinctively, I pressed my legs together, squeezing his wandering palm before he touched my cotton panties. “Not here,” I purred when his mouth kissed my neck and throat, nipping gently.

“Let me, at least, eat you out here,” Jungkook whispered into my ear, as he pinched my thigh, making me spread my legs a little. “I promise, no one will see you,” he added, as his right hand traveled up to my panties, tugging it playfully.

I had no idea what got into me, but the idea of Jungkook on his knees right now, eating me out was more than arousing. With his head under my skirt and between my legs, with his tongue on my clit, with his fingers up my pussy; just thinking about it made me dizzy. I’d probably faint if he started his ministrations.

“What do you say?” Jungkook purred against my skin, while his hand was teasing me by pulling on the hem of my panties. “Agree, I know you want to,” he continued, gently rubbing his nose against my neck.

“Yes,” I mumbled so quietly I thought he might’ve not heard me. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was pressed tightly against me, I’d probably have to repeat myself, losing the last bit of my composure. I barely knew Jungkook, yet I’d bend however he told me to; it only took a snap of his fingers, and I’d fulfill his every wish regardless of how freaky it could be.

“Fuck yes,” Jungkook breathed out and pulled down my panties in one fluid motion, his large hand grazing my skin. Instinctively, I raised my right leg and then left one, helping him to get rid of my undergarment – which in a matter of seconds was pushed into his pocket.

“Jungkook,” I moaned his name when he rubbed his erection against me, turning me on even more. I hadn’t felt this hot in months, and he barely touched me. If he was going to keep up the pace, I would explode before we’d reach his room.

“What is it, baby?” Jungkook asked innocently, teasing me, evidently trying to strip me of the remains of my dignity. He heard me, but I had a hunch he wanted to hear me beg. “That’s right, that’s my name,” he spoke in a low voice; his hands cupped my butt, squeezing it.

“You like teasing, don’t you?” I inquired, hoping to sound less affected than I was; my voice would break in an embarrassing stutter, but my articulation was the last thing Jungkook paid attention to. “Just eat me out already!” I cried out, frustrated with his ministrations.

“Teasing? Only you,” he mocked. “And for someone so reluctant about being eaten out here, you seem very eager now,” Jungkook continued to provoke me, his finger finally touching my clit, making me gasp at the sudden sparkle of pleasure. Because of the lack of attention to my sensitive bundle of nerves, the slightest of his touches was setting me on fire.

“P-please,” I begged as I shut my eyes close, feeling my knees give up under his compelling touch. “Jungkook, please, just do it,” I carried on, as I yanked him closer by his belt, moaning when his prominent erection rubbed against me.

“Spread those beautiful legs for me, baby,” Jungkook commanded, playfully slapping the inner side of my thigh, and I obeyed without thinking. Holding my breath, I leaned against the concrete railing. With a smug smirk on his face, I watched Jungkook got on his knees in front of me, getting lost in my wild fantasies when he lustfully licked his lips.

“Oh, God,” I breathed out when Jungkook pressed his mouth against my clit, kissing it so sensually. “Mm…” I huffed in pleasure, as Jungkook sucked on my clit, sending me into overdrive so quickly. His hands were on my butt, pulling me closer, his nose was grazing against my pubic mound, his tongue licking my folds.

I was panting; I gave myself all to Jungkook, letting him do everything he wanted, and I loved writhing under his will. I hadn’t felt this good in weeks, or maybe even months, but damn; I was floating over the cloud nine because of his touch.

“I love how you respond,” Jungkook muttered, as he pulled away from me. I was so sensitive, and when Jungkook gently tugged on my clit, I just kept pressing myself against him, desperate to feel more.

“Keep going, Jungkook,” I moaned, licking my lips. “Fuck me with your fingers,” I voiced quietly, hoping he would consider my humble request. His tongue felt divine, the way it flicked against my folds sent shivers down my spine, the way it swirled around my clit made my toes curl, but it wasn’t enough. “I need more.”

“You’re so needy,” Jungkook chimed in, as he pulled away and looked into my eyes. His chin was glistening with my juices, and his lips were swollen from all the work he had done, and he looked incredible. He was handsome, but right now, he looked like a deity. “How much do you want my fingers? Would you fuck yourself on them?”

“Yes! I’ll do anything you tell me to,” I answered obediently, afraid that he’d stop unless I gave him a definite reply quickly. “Please, Jungkook, I was so close,” I begged, and Jungkook generously complied with my plea. “Oh, yes,” I gasped when he inserted his middle finger in my drenching pussy.

“Tell me how much you love it,” Jungkook urged, and I moaned my gratitude, but words were incomprehensible, and I hoped that my attempts to praise him would suffice. “I made you feel so good that you can’t even speak; damn, you love my fingers,” he teased, adding another finger, curling it inside of me, almost throwing off the edge.

“Yes!” I hollered between my shallow breaths, all tensed, sensing my orgasm approaching. Just the way Jungkook had suspected it, I rocked my hips against his hand, needing his fingers deeper inside of me. “Yes, yes, yes. Jungkook, don’t stop!” I screamed, not bothering who might’ve heard me. At the moment, I only cared about Jungkook and my impending high.

“That’s right, squeeze around my fingers,” Jungkook egged me on, though I’d do it without his encouragement; he agitated fire in my veins, and when he started to suck on my clit again, I reached the moment of explosion. With the final thrust, my blood burnt, my vision blazed white, my throat growled his name, and my body thawed out falling straight into his arms.

“Jungkook–“

“Look at the mess you’ve made,” Jungkook stood up, showing me his hand all covered in my juices. “You look so blown away,” he added, staring into my eyes, as he licked his fingers clean. “So fucked out,” Jungkook pointed out, planting a peck in the corner of my lips.

“Well… yeah… you’ve got very skillful fingers,” I spoke, wrapping my hand in his; it was still a bit sticky, but we were also covered in sweat, so I didn’t care about it that much. “Thank you so much, I really needed that.”

“Don’t thank me now, you’ll thank me later when you feel my cock,” he corrected me, as he looked down at our interlocked hands, giving it a light squeeze. “My room or yours?” With a twinkle in his eyes, he asked directly, and I smiled, refraining myself from throwing myself into his arms, so he could take me to his chamber and fuck me all night long.

“The one which is closer,” I eagerly answered when I bit my bottom lip, looking at his erection, still cramped in his trousers. “You’ve been so hard for so long, your dick is gonna fall off,” I retorted cheekily, and Jungkook smirked at me.

“We could always finish up here,” he egged on, but I firmly shook my head; it was enough of exhibitionism for today. For maybe months, even. “Whatever you say, but sex under the starry sky? Mind-blow-ing,” Jungkook stated, articulating each syllable, but he might’ve as well spelled it out for me, yet it still wouldn’t change my mind. I’d rather have him in the sheets. “You have no idea what you’re missing out on.”

“Maybe some other time,” I said vaguely, running my hands across his chest, entwining my fingers behind his neck. “Indoor sex can be mind-blowing, too,” I added, staring at his swollen lips when I licked mine.

“Oh, yes,” Jungkook breathed out, quickly throwing his hands on my butt, hoisting me up. “Hold on,” he said when I wrapped my legs around his waist, “let’s not forget about the booze,” he added, as he turned around, letting me grab the bottle and the glasses before we forgot about it. “I bet sex with you is always amazing. You got the prettiest cunt I’ve ever tasted,” Jungkook whispered, and his words affected me much more than I would’ve guessed.

“Oh, Jungkook,” I murmured against his skin, nipping on his neck teasingly, and since Jungkook didn’t seem to mind my ministrations, I continued to suck the hickey while he was walking down the stairs. “I want to feel you inside of me,” I purred into his ear, and Jungkook immediately stopped in his track, pressing me against the wall quite aggressively.

“You do tend to speak carelessly,” he whispered, his voice giving me chills. “I barely control myself around you,” he added, playfully nipping my earlobe. Jungkook was sensual, and I was incredibly close to letting him fuck me right here in this shabby corridor. “If you keep talking like that I may not be able to hold myself back any longer.”

“I will make it up to you, I promise,” I muttered before I smashed my lips against his in another hungry kiss. “I will suck your cock dry if you want me to,” I added, and Jungkook began the walk to his bedroom.

“I want this and much more,” Jungkook mischievously added when we reached his room.

Quickly, Jungkook opened his room and let me enter it first, acting like a real gentleman.

When Jungkook was closing the doors behind us, I placed the alcohol on the cabinet. Then, I took my shoes off and looked around, wanting to study the interior, silently judging if his room looked fancier than mine. Unfortunately, the moment I started my thorough analysis, Jungkook wrapped his hand around my wrist, swiftly turned me around and yanked me against his muscular body.

My eyes gazed into his, instantly seeing the pure desire in them. Jungkook had already made me come, and now, he deserved to reach his orgasm too.

“Come here,” he muttered, and I, as if I were under his spell, wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him slowly. His bottom lip felt incredibly soft between mine. Quickly, his hands found a purchase on my hips, as he pulled me closer, and I deepened our kiss. “I don’t think I’ll ever have enough of you. You drive me crazy,” Jungkook confessed, and I moaned feeling the same; with each move of his lips, I felt thirstier and thirstier.

Slowly, my hands roamed across his shoulders, down his chest until they reached the buckle of his belt. Biting my bottom lip, I undid it along with the button of his trousers.

“Can you do it any slower?” Jungkook asked in mock anger, impatient with my ministrations. “You’re killing me, sweetheart,” he added, and I smiled when I realized how he called me. I had never been a fan of pet names, but when one rolled of Jungkook’s tongue, it genuinely made me feel wanted and adored even though I was just about to kneel and suck his cock. “Please, have mercy.”

Having pulled his zipper down, I pushed his trousers down his muscular thighs, leaving him only in his deep-cut shirt and a pair of boxers. The bulge was impressive, and I unconsciously licked my lips, admiring the view in front of me.

Enthusiastically, I got on my knees, pulling his boxers down, making his erection spring out of its restraint right in front of my face. “Oh my,” I started, but I didn’t know how to finish my thought. I really wanted to suck his cock and make him come either down my throat or on my face or whatever he wanted to.

“You know what to do sweetheart,” Jungkook said, as he grabbed his cock and gave it a few lazy strokes. Damn, it was hot. His veiny hand was moving smoothly up and down his length, as he stared down at me, waiting for me to take care of him.

Gently, I put my hand over his. “Let me,” I whispered, and Jungkook took his hand away, allowing me to touch him. His cock was throbbing in my hand, as I stroked him carefully, feeling the slight curve of his erection and prominent veins.

“That’s right,” Jungkook sighed, kicking his head backward, giving into the pleasure I was giving me. “Spit on my cock,” he instructed, and I followed his order, quickly smearing my saliva over his length, mixing it with a bit of the precum. His cock was slick, and my hand moved quickly, making him grunt in enjoyment.

Shortly after, I leaned forward and started to suck on the tip of cock while still running my hand up and down his erection. Jungkook thrust his hips slightly and hissed when he felt the tip of my tongue on his cock.

“Oh God, yes,” he praised, and I hummed, glad that he enjoyed my ministrations. “Yeah, suck me off, just like that,” he grunted, as he shut his eyes close, giving completely into the pleasure. Eagerly, I hollowed my cheeks, taking more and more of him, resting my hands on his hips. My head bobbed back and forth as I sucked him, my tongue gently pressing on the veiny underside of his cock. “Oh my God,” Jungkook whined in enjoyment when I squeezed his balls with one of my hands.

“Do you like what I’m doing to you?” I asked as I pulled out with a pop. “Are you going to come?” I asked innocently, still playing with his balls. Jungkook looked down at me, but I just smirked, leaning down, pressing my tongue against the tip of his cock, licking it down to its base along a large vein. “You are close, aren’t you?” I teased, chuckling when Jungkook’s cock started to twitch in my palms.

“You won’t be smirking when I am done with you,” Jungkook warned me, but I only giggled to his threat. If he was going to fuck me into oblivion, I’d gladly take that punishment. “No one has ever fucked you like I’m about to,” he added, and I only hoped he wasn’t all talk and no action.

“Can’t wait,” I muttered before I once again put his cock into my mouth, sucking him off eagerly. Jungkook, on the other hand, decided to take control of the situation. Gently, he grabbed my hair and wrapped it around his hand as he wanted to give me his rhythm.

“Will you be a good girl and let me come in your mouth?” Jungkook asked, and though I had never let men finish on my tongue, I couldn’t bring myself to decline him. Jungkook woke up my inner most-hidden desires, and right now, I would let him do anything. Even if he wanted me to swallow his cum, I would do it with pleasure. With him, I felt like a sex goddess, and I was eager to cross all of my past boundaries.

Tonight, I had no inhibitions.

It could be my last time having sex, and I was going to make the most of it.

Jungkook was on the verge of coming, and I felt needy too, so my hand reached down to rub my clit. He had given me one orgasm, but I was ready for more.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked as he pulled my hair, staring at me touching myself. “Stop it. Only I can touch this pussy,” he added authoritatively, and I quickly stopped since I didn’t want to upset him. Although it was difficult to resist this temptation, I had a feeling that Jungkook would reward my obedience.

Biting his bottom lip, Jungkook closed his eyes before he began thrusting his cock in and out of my mouth. His hips quickly snapped, but he didn’t push it beyond my limits. Though he was a little upset about my urgency, he respected my boundaries and didn’t force his cock, so it didn't become unpleasant to me. His thick cock gagged me a little, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Jungkook breathed out when he pulled out. “Open your mouth, sweetheart,” he urged me, and I instantly complied with his order, being too enchanted by his quiet grunts. I have always thought that men moans were the hottest thing a man could do during sex, and Jungkook only proved me right now.

With a throaty groan of my name, Jungkook came, milking my tongue with his massive load. His hand moved across his shaft quickly throughout his orgasm, and I moaned when I felt the taste of his cum in my mouth.

“Are you going to be a good girl and swallow it?” Jungkook asked me in between his shallow breaths, and I obediently nodded my head, fulfilling his request. “That was so hot,” he added, as he stretched his hand for me to take it, so he could help me stand up from my knees.

“Everything you do is hot too,” I honestly said, “and I am really needy,” I added innocently, smiling at him, slowly unbuttoning the last piece of clothing which he had on.

“Once I fuck you, you’ll never get enough of me,” Jungkook muttered when I slid my hands under the silk material of his shirt, slowly pushing it off his shoulders. “Why don’t you put up a little show for me? You’ve got so many clothes on,” Jungkook started as he lazily moved towards the bed.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” I teased, pushing him backward, so he stumbled on the bed, staring at me as if he were an addict and I was a sweet dose of drugs. “Sit back and enjoy,” I said, having no idea how the hell he made me so confident.

Putting attention to every detail, I started to unbutton my shirt, doing it agonizingly slowly. Jungkook enjoyed my performance; I was teasing him, but I could tell he liked every second of it. When my shirt hung freely over my shoulders, Jungkook leaned back, propping his body on his elbows.

“You’re killing me. I’m gonna be hard again, and you haven’t even taken your shirt off,” Jungkook complained, but I only giggled, glad that my show was affecting him that much.

Smirking at him, I pushed my shirt off my shoulders, letting him admire my body clad only in a simple bra and a skirt. His eyes studied my appearance, and I didn’t need any other validation that I looked stunning.

“Do you mind bringing me a drink?” Jungkook requested politely, and I gladly poured us drinks even though the alcohol didn’t particularly fit my preferences. With two glasses of clear whiskey, I approached him and handed him one. “To your success,” he whispered before he clinked his glass against mine and drank the half of the liquor.

Sitting on his rock-hard thighs, I reached behind my back to unhook my bra. As if enchanted, Jungkook sat up, staring in admiration at my breasts. Quickly, he placed his glass on the floor beside the bed, desperate to touch me. In an instant, I felt his large hands on my sides, slowly riding up to my bare breasts.

Jungkook started to kiss the curve of my neck, and I kicked my head backward, giving him more access to my skin. His thumbs gently played with my nipples while his lips covered my collarbones with kisses, and his tender ministrations made me buckle my hips against his flaccid cock.

“Jungkook,” I moaned quietly, and Jungkook’s mouth turned into a wide smile. He was very pleased with himself whenever I reacted to his touches. “Why don’t you lie down?” I asked him, pushing him onto the mattress before he managed to reply.

“Why don’t you hump me until I’m hard again to fuck you?” Jungkook said, correctly seeing through my intentions. “Or maybe you think you could get yourself off against me?”

“I’d rather feel your cock inside of me, but if you can’t pop another hard-on, I guess you’ll leave me no choice but satiate my needs with dry-humping you,” I teased him before I leaned forward to shut him up with a kiss. I’ve had enough of talking; I wanted another orgasm to wash through me. Besides, I was sure Jungkook wouldn’t mind another one, too.

“Baby,” Jungkook moaned the moment I started to rub my drenching pussy against his limp cock. “It feels too good,” he added, but once again I shut him up with a passionate kiss. My tongue danced with his in imperfect sync, his hands roamed all over my hips and thighs, while I rocked myself against his half-erect dick.

“Oh fuck,” I cursed when Jungkook cupped my breasts and pinched my hard nipples. “Oh my God, yes, Jungkook, yes!” I shouted, rubbing myself against him way harder. It felt good, and that stimulation almost made me reach my high.

“You’re a real freak in the sheets,” Jungkook commented, amused by his remark. “You really need my cock, don’t you?” He inquired, as he stared at my desperate moves against his length. “Let me take care of you, okay?” He asked, and mirroring my previous bossy mannerism, he didn’t wait for my reply, but he just pushed me onto the mattress and got on top of me, his hard cock poking my folds.

“Jungkook, please, fuck me with your cock already,” I urged him, but Jungkook only smirked before he grabbed his thick length and with its tip slapped my drenching pussy, making me choke on a throaty moan. The sensation was erratic, and though he didn’t penetrate me, I felt another wave of warmth surge through my body.

“How can I say no when you’re asking so nicely,” Jungkook whispered, and I buckled my hips against his erection. Though I was desperately whining for his touch, I wasn’t ashamed of my words. We both had needs which we were going to deliver to each other.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, Jungkook, oh my god,” I breathed out when Jungkook slowly eased himself in, stretching out my walls. “It feels so, so good,” I added, raising my hips off the mattress, only to have them pinned back to the bed by his strong hands.

“Lie still,” Jungkook commanded, and though I felt tempted to roll on top of him and ride him, I decided to follow his order. Despite looking my age, Jungkook perfectly knew how to please a woman, and I was going to let him take care of me.

Staring into my eyes, Jungkook pushed his length inside of me. Trying my best not to react, I bit my bottom lip, waiting for Jungkook to make another move. Gently, he massaged my thighs before he slowly wrapped them around his hips.

“Good girl,” he murmured, sending me a mischievous smirk which could only mean trouble. Before I managed to reply, Jungkook started to slam his fat cock in and out of me, making me a whining mess beneath him.

Sweat was rolling down his forehead and chest, and I couldn’t help myself but admire the wild beast which fucked me senseless. Though he only started, and I was nowhere near the orgasm, I felt tiny sparks of electricity erupting in every cell of my body. His pounding was incredibly pleasurable, and I knew the orgasm would be bone-crushing.

The bed creaked in the rhythm of Jungkook’s thrusts and my moans. The sounds of our bodies colliding and Jungkook’s quiet breaths rang in my ears made me close my eyes and grip on the sheets, completely giving myself into the pleasure.

After a while, Jungkook’s tempo slowed down, but I couldn’t complain when he was pounding his cock inside of me and rubbing my clit simultaneously.

“Tell me when you’re close,” Jungkook grunted, and I obediently nodded my head.

Jungkook was falling out of his rhythm when I was near my orgasm. My walls started to tighten around his cock, and I moaned his name. “Jungkook, I’m…” I started, my voice breaking, since I was feeling too good to sound comprehensive. “I’m gonna come.”

The moment when I was panting, when my blood was boiling, when I was about to explode, Jungkook stopped. With a smug smirk on his face, he pulled out, denying my second orgasm.

“That’s not cool,” I said, starting to giggle. This situation was ridiculous.

“You have to trust me,” Jungkook whispered, as he massaged my thigh gently. I wanted to purr, but before I managed to produce a sound, Jungkook suddenly turned me around, making me lie on my stomach. “Butt up, sweetheart,” he ordered in a seductive voice, and I instantly obeyed his command.

On my fours, I waited for his touch. Carefully, he traced the tips of his fingers across my thighs up to my butt. Then, taking me aback, Jungkook slapped my butt. Though it didn’t hurt me, it left a pleasant stinging sensation.

“You like that, don’t you?” Jungkook purred into my ear when he pushed his cock inside of me from behind and leaned against my back. “Admit that no one has ever fucked you the way I’m doing it now,” he whispered while pounding in and out of me.

“Jungkook, yes, yes,” I breathed out, gripping the sheets when I slowly neared the bliss. “You’re the best I’ve ever had,” I moaned, craning my neck as I needed to kiss him.

“That’s right,” Jungkook let out a throaty moan, making me shiver. His body was making me feel amazing, but his raspy voice was going to be the death of me. By far, it was the sexiest sound which had ever rung in my ears.

“Jungkook, can I ride you?” I asked quickly, as I thought about sitting on his muscular thighs, sliding up and down his pulsating cock.

“Fuck yes,” he eagerly answered before he pulled out and sat up, leaning his back against the headrest. “Come on, jump on it,” Jungkook urged me, and I, with a mischievous smirk on my face, I sat astride him.

“I’m really frustrated,” I truthfully said as I looked into his eyes and entwined my fingers behind his neck. “No more playing dirty,” I added when I started to move my hips, rubbing my drenching slit against his veiny cock.

Jungkook’s grip on my hips tightened slightly. “Jump. On. It.” Jungkook gritted through his teeth, sounding quite angry. He was just as impatient, and I, obeying his order, sat down on his cock. “Mm… Good girl,” he whispered before he leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine.

His kiss was passionate, and it felt as if our lips molded together. His hands held my hips, giving me guidance, helping me set the right tempo. God, it felt like heaven.

“I’m coming,” I moaned, as I increased my pace, giving him no chance to deny me of another orgasm. I’d die if he stopped me again from reaching the blissful high.

“I’m close, too,” Jungkook genuinely admitted before he captured my lips again. My walls were squeezing around his throbbing cock as I entirely gave in to my instincts. I moved up and down his erection until I felt an explosion of pleasure rip me apart.

Jungkook came a few seconds after me, growling my name as he milked my walls with his cum. All covered in sweat, Jungkook looked at me, and I just started to giggle.

“It was…”

***

According to the analog clock on the desk in the corner of Jungkook’s room, it was five o’clock. Jungkook was lying on the bed beside me, breathing soundly, and for a brief moment, I marveled his gorgeous looks; his muscular body, his soft hair and his sun-kissed skin with a variety of love marks I had given him when he had been pushing all the right buttons. Damn it; even his eyelashes were beautiful, casting shadow on his cheeks.

No matter how much I fancied having another round in the morning, I had to leave; I am a woman on a mission, and now, when the night was over, I had to return to my priorities. The fling with Jungkook was unforgettable, but I had to flee his chamber.

My legs were sore, but strangely I felt energized; almost as if I had slept for twelve hours, not two. It must’ve been the hormones.

In haste, I collected my clothes, carelessly putting it back on my body. From time to time, I’d peek at Jungkook, yet every time when my eyes landed on his frame, he was sleeping soundly, as if it was the first time in years he had such a calm slumber.

Sighing at the beautiful sight in front of me, I turned around and left.

***

As soon as I stepped into my room, I undressed and headed to the bathroom, desperately needing a shower. I was sticky with sweat and my and Jungkook’s arousals, and I just had to clean myself.

Quickly, I turned on the tap, letting the water spill on the yellowish tiles. “Mm… he was so good,” I daydreamt, thinking of the night escapade with Jungkook, and how he made me feel. He was just a mere stranger, but none of my previous lovers had satisfied me even half as good. Too bad we would never meet again; I’ll be on my way before he’d even wake up.

“Get a grip,” I spoke to myself, hating how much he was distracting me although I had met him less than ten hours ago. Yes, the sex was mind-blowing. Yes, we had gone a few rounds. Yes, it was by far the best sex of my life. It felt like heaven, but I have a goal. I needed to stay focused, so regardless of how many pictures of him my mind would project, of how his deep voice echoed in my subconsciousness, of how I still felt his touch on my flesh, I had to figure out how I’d get to Senegal.

After what it felt like an hour, I stepped out of the shower with a towel tightly wrapped around my body. I was to spend maybe a few days in the wilderness, so instead of wearing my typical clothing, which consisted of a button down shirt with rolled up sleeves and a skirt, I put on one set of specially bought clothes.

Three days before the flight, I had purchased a pair of waterproof trekking boots, a few sets of bamboo organic cotton underwear, and of course, T-shirts and shorts made out of breathable fabric. I was prepared for heat, for flood, and any other climate anomaly in that region. I had even got vaccinated for exotic bugs, insects and other viruses.

When my phone was getting charged to the fullest, I threw everything out of my suitcase and packed the necessities into a huge backpack. I had nutritious food, a special bottle to filter water, ropes, and other archeology gear which I’d need to get into the tomb.

By seven o’clock, I was ready to leave. Nervously, I adjusted my backpack’s straps, and with my head high, I left my room and headed to the reception desk to check out. The receptionist was a bit startled by the change in my appearance, but he didn’t say anything; probably because he couldn’t formulate his commentary within his narrow range of English vocabulary.

“I can’t believe you didn’t say goodbye,” I heard a familiar voice the second I stepped out of the hotel. Instantly, I turned around and saw Jungkook, in a fresh set of clothes, leaning against the wall, munching on an apple. “You didn’t leave a note, either.”

“Sorry,” I said nervously, not sure how to talk to him. We were never supposed to meet again, yet there he was, apparently waiting for me. “Why are you up so early?” Folding my arms across my chest, I asked. He had never told me he had a reason to get up so early in the morning.

“I don’t sleep alone very well,” he added, as he pushed himself off the wall, and threw the half-eaten apple on the ground.

“Then I hope tonight someone will keep you company until you’re well rested,” I said politely, giving him a wide smile, hoping he’d get the clue that I didn’t have time to chat with him now. I really wished him well; I couldn’t stay any longer, and I didn’t want him to get lonely. “And if you excuse me, I have a bus which I need to catch.”

“How can you be so cold to me?” Jungkook asked, and I sighed, regretting that I had stopped when I had heard his voice. I should’ve ignored him then; I should’ve pretended not to hear him. “And why are you in such a rush? We could have breakfast together–“

“I’ve already eaten, sorry,” I interjected before he’d lure me back to the hotel with his handsome looks and tantalizing stare. “And yeah, I’m in a hurry, so have a nice day, but I gotta go,” I added with a smile, turning on my heel so I wouldn’t have to look into his eyes.

“But you have to try some of the Moroccan dishes before you leave,” Jungkook concluded, but I wasn’t having this. Yes, it could be delicious, but I really had more important stuff which had to be dealt with immediately. I couldn’t afford to get stalled and/or distracted.

“Your proposition is tempting, like really tempting, but I just can’t,” I spoke, trying to sound as genuine as I could. I didn’t want to be rude, but in my life were plenty of things which were more important than man’s companionship. Jungkook was amazing, but right now, my work was my priority. “I’m sorry, Jungkook,” I added quietly, before I turned around on my heel, and started to walk away.

“That’s too bad,” Jungkook added, “but have I ever mentioned that I have a chopper?” When I heard him, I immediately stopped in my track. I didn’t have to face him to know that this bastard was smugly smirking. “It’s not healthy to start a journey on an empty stomach. Please, have breakfast with me, and I’ll give you a lift to wherever you meet your crew.”

I must’ve gone crazy to actually consider Jungkook’s proposition. I didn’t know anything about him; how could I even think about accepting his ridiculous offering? Especially when there was no crew waiting for me anywhere, and I was headed in the opposite direction to what I had told him. It wasn’t a good idea to involve him, even though he could prove himself incredibly useful. Owning a chopper, for example.

“You lie, you wouldn’t be staying in this hotel if you could afford a chopper,” I concluded, still hesitant to his offering. It didn’t make any sense.

“Here’s where you’re wrong,” Jungkook said with a mischievous smirk upon his face. “You see, I’m supposed to write about regular people, and if I stayed in a fancy-ass hotel, who could I write about? Probably, some rich assholes who came here with their side-chicks to cheat on their wives. And I got my chopper from my super-rich sponsor who apparently loves my feuilletons.” Jungkook explained, and even if he lied, his reasoning made sense.

“Fine, I guess I could find an hour to have something to eat,” I gave up, and Jungkook smiled radiantly, wrapping his arm around my shoulders when he approached me. “Okay, Jungkook, lead the way,” I urged him, but Jungkook only beamed, guiding me to his favorite restaurant.

The restaurant wasn’t anything fancy, but I liked its homely atmosphere. Taking the table next to the window, Jungkook waved at the waitress, as he was ready to order without looking at the menu.

The woman smiled at him, and he smiled at her when they shared a conversation in a language I didn’t understand. However, judging by Jungkook’s frequent glances toward my direction, I had a suspicion that he was ordering me food.

Once the women walked away, Jungkook looked at me, and I instantly asked him. “What was this about?” I couldn’t help myself but be curious.

“Nothing, I just ordered some must-tries. We’re leaving Casablanca today, and you just have to try some of the dishes here.” Jungkook explained, and I internally cringed at the pronoun he used. He was just helping me to get from one place to another; he wasn’t my side-kick.

Though it didn’t sit right with me, I didn’t correct him. My bus left a few minutes ago, I couldn’t lash out at him, and then have him nullify our agreement.

“So what have you ordered for me?”

“A little bit of everything, you know,” Jungkook said, looking through the window. “I got you some fruit with yogurt, a plate of Sfenj, and fried eggs with olives. It’s really delicious.”

“I don’t really like eggs, so I guess I’ll enjoy my Sfen-something – whatever that is,” I added, and Jungkook chuckled.

“Sfenj are a type of deep-fried Moroccan fritter,” Jungkook explained, and I nodded my head, thinking it wouldn’t be half bad. “And whether you like it or not, you should eat the eggs, not only they’ll be amazing, but also you need a lot of protein.”

“Ugh, you sound like my father,” I grunted, remembering a dozen fights with my family regarding my eating habits.

“Well… I wouldn’t mind you calling me daddy,” Jungkook said, and I rolled my eyes, glad that the food wasn’t yet served because otherwise some of it would end up on his face. “What? Don’t act so coy. After last night, I know your true colors. You’re a freak.”

“I was just caught in the heat of the moment.” I tried to defend myself, but when I saw another smirk on Jungkook’s face, I knew it had no sense. No matter what I would tell him, it wouldn’t change his opinion about me and my kinks.

As soon as our food was served, we started munching it almost as if we were starved for a few days. Our physical acts must’ve drained us of energy more than anyone of us had thought.

“So… where are we headed?” Jungkook asked when he finished his serving, wiping his mouth with a clean napkin.

“A nameless island west of Ziguinchor, Senegal,” I said, and Jungkook looked the location on his phone, as he was probably unfamiliar with this region. Furrowing his eyebrows, he thought of the best route how to get there. It was difficult itself, but given the fact that the island wasn’t drawn on most of the maps, wasn’t making his task any easier.

“It’s not even on the map,” Jungkook muttered, cocking up his eyebrow, being even more curious than before. It was mysterious, and it definitely piqued his interest. “It’s gonna be difficult, but screw it, let’s do it,” he added happily, as he locked his phone and placed it on the table, giving me his full attention.

“Thanks, Jungkook, I really appreciate your help,” I added before I returned to my breakfast.

“No problem, I was getting bored here anyway,” Jungkook shrugged, sending me another bright beam. “So how about you finish your breakfast, and I’ll go get my stuff. I’ll pay for our meal, and let’s meet outside in ten, okay?”

“Sure.”

***

Within ten minutes Jungkook met me outside. He was carrying a large backpack on his back, and despite his handsome features and a bucket hat on his head, he looked ridiculous.

“Okay, show me your chopper,” I said with a smirk as I couldn’t wait to start the journey. The breakfast with Jungkook was a delight, but I had a pretty tight schedule, and it was about time to get going.

“We have a long journey ahead of us, sweetheart,” Jungkook said, as he showed me the way to his car. “I googled the distance, and we’re gonna be lucky to get there before the nightfall.”

Although we were on a pretty hectic schedule, we managed to board the chopper before 9 o’clock. Jungkook carried our backpacks inside and sat in the pilot’s seat, and I just followed quietly behind him, letting him work in peace.

“You know… you would be an awesome stewardess,” Jungkook said, trying to start a conversation with me for the nth time this day. “With your long legs, and everything else,” he finished his thought, but I was lost for words. I already was an outstanding archeologist, and I didn’t have to have long legs to prove how great I was at it.

“How long is it gonna take?” I questioned, getting a bit impatient. I had been studying Senegalese legends for years, and now, I was near to my first great discovery.

“Why? Do you hate my company so much?” Jungkook teased, and I just rolled my eyes. “If the rest of the flight will be as smooth, we’re gonna be there in an hour or so.”

“That’s good,” I said with a deep sigh before I looked through the window, admiring the calm sea below us. “Thank you, Jungkook. And sorry for being so sour in the morning, I was just anxious.”

“No, it’s okay. I understand; you must be under a lot of pressure,” Jungkook answered with a soft smile, as he looked at me. “Oh shit,” Jungkook cursed, his beam fading away. Quickly, I cocked up my eyebrows, having no clue what caused his sudden change in his behavior.

Still confused, I looked through the window again. I saw another chopper. Why did it make Jungkook freak out a little? What was going on?

“Hold on something,” Jungkook ordered, and I clutched the armrests of my seat.

“What the hell? What is going on?” I asked, but Jungkook didn’t even bother to answer my questions. Instead, he focused on the buttons in front of him, pressing one after another, making the machine soar higher.

“Okay, maybe I wasn’t entirely honest with you,” Jungkook started, and I looked at him in panic. What the fuck he meant by that?! “So, this chopper isn’t technically mine. It’s my friend’s, and he sometimes gets a little bit angry with me when I borrow it without his direct permission,” he explained, but I didn’t trust him wholeheartedly.

He had lied to me once, and he could do it again.

“Don’t worry, though. Namjoon’s harmless,” Jungkook added, trying to calm me down. Unfortunately, the moment I heard his words, the glass of my window cracked after what it seemed a bullet. “Or maybe, I’ve angered him one time too many,” Jungkook smiled sheepishly, as he swerved the chopper around, trying to avoid getting shot again.

“What the fuck?” I screamed, losing my composure. It was supposed to be a peaceful expedition, and right now, someone was aiming a gun at us. That’s not what I signed up for! “Jungkook, do something!”

“Don’t panic; I already see the island,” Jungkook replied, but his statement didn’t calm me down; not when more shots were fired our direction. It was difficult to remain level-headed, I did my best. Of course, everything changed when I felt a sharp pull right before when our chopper started to descend. All kinds of alarms flared red and began ringing, and I was terrified when I realized that we were going to die regardless of how tight I was holding onto my seat. We were doomed.

My heart was beating rapidly, my knuckles were white due to clutching onto my seat, and my eyes were shut. I was too cowardly to face reality when the death was about to swallow us in a few brief moments as soon as the chopper would collide with the surface of the water.

“Come on, we have to jump,” I barely heard Jungkook over my pathetic meltdown. I could comprehend only bits and pieces of his words, but thankfully, Jungkook just grabbed my hand, and yanked me out of my seat, handing me my backpack. “I hope you know how to swim,” Jungkook shouted before he opened the doors and pushed me out of the chopper.

I was in complete shock; one moment I was sure I was going to die, while a few seconds later I screamed my lungs out, waving my hands back and forth as I fell down into the water.

When I regained the remains of my composure, it was already on the narrow beach. I had no idea how long it took me to get to the shore, nor how I managed to swim such a long distance with my pathetic stamina.

Spitting seawater, I threw my backpack on the sand before I lay on the beach, the calm waves washing my feet. I felt terrible, everything hurt me, and I had water in my nose. However, I couldn’t complain, I was still alive after all.

As soon as I calmed down, adjusting myself to my current situation, I looked around, trying to spot Jungkook and our wrecked chopper. Though my sight was still blurry, either because of seawater or my tears, I could see smoke coming from the jungle.

“It was a close one,” Jungkook said as he emerged from the water and lay down next to me, trying to catch his breath after the energy-draining swim.

I was thankful that we were still alive, but when I saw Jungkook beside me, talking so casually about our near death situation, I felt rage wash through me. Before my mind could register what I was doing, I sat astride on him, violently hitting his chest with my fists.

Unfortunately, after what we experienced not that long ago, my punches weren’t as painful as I wished them to be. Without any trouble, Jungkook wrapped his fingers around my wrists, stopping my poor attempt of hurting him.

“Is your friend really harmless?” I asked him, trying not to burst into tears. I didn’t want him to think I was weak. Quite contrary, I thought I was pretty strong. However, because of him, I was caught in a life-threatening situation, and it was natural to feel so confused. “For fuck’s sake, he shot us down! What is going on, Jeon? Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?”

“OK, maybe he doesn’t consider us friends, but in my defense, it’s unlike him to behave like that,” Jungkook said, but his explanation didn’t have any value. I still didn’t understand what the point of shooting us down was.

"You're not completely honest with me, Jungkook. This Namjoon guy wouldn't shoot down his own chopper if he was mad at you for taking it. There has to be something more to it. Tell me the truth, and don't you dare lie to me again," I demanded, and Jungkook seemed to be immersed in thought as if considering disclosing the facts to me. Although he was dubious, deep down he knew I deserved to know the truth about his conflict with Namjoon.

“So… I might’ve borrowed some money from him, and technically, I haven’t paid it off yet completely, so maybe that’s why he’s feeling a little bit angry with it.”

“Jungkook, he’s not a little bit angry, this guy almost killed us, he’s livid,” I interjected, being unable to listen to him sugarcoat things. “This is just perfect; a guy almost killed us, the chopper is a wreck, and on top of that, we are on the wrong side of the island. I shouldn’t have agreed to go with you. I felt it in my guts back then; I should’ve listened to my hunch.”

“Don’t be like that, we’ll find a way out of it,” Jungkook said, trying to cheer me up, but I wasn’t having any of that. First of all, there was no we. Secondly, the chopper crashed, so even if we found the necklace, we wouldn’t be able to escape the inhabited island.

“Yeah, of course, you’re right,” I spoke bitterly, being on the verge of hysteria. The situation was ridiculous, and although we survived the crash, we were still trapped on this island. We were alive, but it was only a matter of time. “I have an idea; I’ll go through that jungle and find that necklace. In the meantime, you can stay here on the beach and built a fucking boat for us because as far as I am concerned, there’s no other transport we can use. How about that?” I was mean, but I didn’t care. It was Jungkook’s fault; he should be the one to do the hard labor.

“Well, you don’t have to be a bitch about it,” Jungkook argued back, clenching his jaw. “Besides, I believe you said something about your crew, they’re going to get here sooner or later,” he concluded, and I wanted to slap myself.

“No, Jungkook, you’re wrong, there’s no crew,” I admitted, and Jungkook really started to panic. “I lied to you back then. It’s my solo expedition.”

“OK, so we agree we’re both to blame. Now, we have to come up with a plan,” Jungkook concluded, and with a deep sigh, I agreed. “What are you suggesting?”

“I think we should focus on finding the necklace. Once we have it, we can start thinking of an escape plan,” I suggested, and Jungkook nodded, understanding my logic.

“That sounds like a plan, but I think we should think of a way to spend the night. The sun is about to descend soon, and from what I heard the wilderness can get pretty dangerous at night,” Jungkook voiced, and I hummed in agreement.

For people who had lied to each other so many times, our dynamics were pretty synced.

“What should we do? We can stay here, or find a place to sleep somewhere in the jungle; which would be safer?” I asked him, hoping that he had a good sense of survival. I didn’t want to get eaten by a puma in my sleep, so I really hoped we could rely on Jungkook’s instincts and survival skills.

“I think we should start a fire here, and dry off first,” Jungkook said after a moment of thinking. “I have a sleeping bag in my backpack, but like all the other things inside it, it’s drenched.”

“Okay, let’s do that,” I quickly agreed with him, desperately needing some sort of heat. Naturally, I had pretty low blood pressure, and right now, I was drenched. The blowing wind didn’t help, either. “You know how to do that, right?”

“Of course, who do you take me for?” Jungkook asked me, being slightly offended with my question. “With me, you’re safe.”

Wrapping my hands around my body, I watched Jungkook work. His clothes were sticking to his muscles, and when he was carrying wood, I could admire his masculine beauty. Although Jungkook had a base of a handyman, I would never peg him as one. If anything, I’d sooner consider him to be a cunning ladies man.

“Voilà!” Jungkook exclaimed when successfully prepared the bonfire. “Come here, you must be freezing,” he added, encouraging me to have a seat beside me. Grumbling under my breath, I stood up and approached him, sitting next to him. “Have you brought anything to eat? I gotta admit, I am starving,” Jungkook asked, and I pulled out two energy bars from my backpack.

For a while, we sat in complete silence, basking in the warmth of the bonfire, and it was actually pretty pleasant, given that Jungkook was my company. I had several reasons to complain; he had lied to me and put my life in danger. However, despite all of that, I couldn't bring myself to hate him with every fiber of my body. Because he had proven himself to be useful, I only hated him to some degree.

“Tomorrow, we’re gonna have a nice trek,” Jungkook started, as he looked at me. “Do you have a map or something?”

“No, Jungkook, there’s no map. It has never been discovered; all I have is a handful of very vague clues.” I answered with a sigh. Basically, I was looking for a needle in the haystack. “Also, the clues vary based on different translations.”

“Oh,” was all he said. “Don’t lose your spirit, you will find it, and I’m gonna help you,” he added, and I cracked a faint smile. It was comforting, but I still had a few doubts haunting me.

“Thanks,” I replied, wrapping my arms around myself tighter. “Are our sleeping bags dry yet?” I asked, feeling a bit sleepy. Just like Jungkook had said, we would have a long trek tomorrow, and I wanted to be well-rested.

“I don’t know, you can check if you want,” he said, and I walked up to them.

With a quick, sharp motion, I picked the sleeping bag up, wanting to get rid of the sand. Unfortunately, when I did so, I felt something fell out of the sleeping bag, and it was a fucking snake. The second my eyes spotted the reptile, I shrieked loudly, tossed the sleeping bag aside, and ran up to Jungkook to hide behind his back.

“It’s a fucking snake! Do something!” I shouted at the top of my voice when I looked down to see the snake slowly moving towards us. “Kill it, please,” I begged him, but Jungkook only chuckled, evidently amused by my panicked outburst.

“It doesn’t seem to be venomous,” Jungkook concluded, but I had no trust in his analysis. According to what he had told me, he was a journalist – not a biologist. “It probably wants to warm up,” he added, but I wrapped my hands around his biceps, expecting him to provide me with safety. “Jesus Christ, your hands are cold,” he turned his head to look into my eyes.

“Please,” I cooed, hoping that after what we had survived together, I had an influence on his actions. “Jungkook, please, get rid of it,” I added, and Jungkook seemed to soften under my pleading gaze.

“Ugh, fine,” he spoke before he grabbed a broken branch and walked up to the snake, wanting to pick it up and take it far away from me. “It’s all done, it shouldn’t bother us again,” he explained, but I told him to check the other sleeping bag in case there was another surprise waiting for us. Thankfully, nothing else sought sanctuary in our belongings.

“Is it safe?”

“Yep, it’s absolutely reptile-free,” Jungkook said in a mocking tone, so I smacked his shoulder playfully. “If you’re afraid another snake may creep into your sleeping bag, we can share mine,” Jungkook suggested, and I actually caught myself considering his offer.

“Fine, but it’s not because I’m afraid,” I answered, and Jungkook cocked his eyebrow in curiosity. “I know I will get cold, and you’re like a portable heater, that’s why,” I explained, but it didn’t make his smug smirk disappear.

“It’s fine with me.” Jungkook smiled before he put his sleeping bag on the sand. “Come here,” he urged me, and I quickly obeyed, wanting to warm myself up. A bit too willingly, I snuggled up to Jungkook’s chest, and Jungkook hissed when he felt my cold hands on his skin. “What do you think about a quickie before sleep? I don’t know about you, but I sleep like a baby after a good fuck,” he hinted, placing an inviting kiss on my neck.

“I think I’ll pass,” I answered, turning on the other side. “And FYI, I haven’t forgotten about that I almost got shot because of you.”

“You can’t blame a man for trying to be romantic,” Jungkook said, not taking my rejection personally, but I only snorted. Yeah, it was romantic as fuck. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Jeon.”

***

At the crack of dawn, we woke up cuddling. Jungkook’s morning wood was digging into my back, but I couldn’t care any less. I was mad at him, and no matter how many times he would beg me to help him out, I wasn’t going to comply with his humble request. I was still mad at him for what he had put us through.

Having consumed energy bars for breakfast, we packed our things (now thankfully dry) and set off our journey. We had two possibilities; we could walk along the coast, or trek through the jungle. The decision was difficult, but after a brief discussion, we chose the shorter and more dangerous hike through the wilderness. Our food would suffice for two days tops; we didn’t have the time to take the longer route.

“How long do you think we have to walk like that?” Jungkook asked before he cut the bush in front of us with a sharp knife so we could move forward.

“According to the legend, they walked the entire night until they reached the heart of the island. Also, it was either April or May, so the trek took them about five hours.” I explained, trying to remember all the details from my report. I had it saved on my phone, but I didn’t want to stop to get it out of the zip lock bag from the very bottom of my backpack.

“And how long is it gonna take to get there from this side of the island?”

“Probably the entire day,” I answered quietly, focusing on walking and breathing. For someone with my stamina (or the lack of thereof), it was incredibly tiring, and I didn’t want to seem so weak in front of him. I was the captain of this expedition, not a thorn in Jungkook’s side. “Maybe a little less if we find a short-cut.”

“Now, that’s comforting,” Jungkook giggled, and I smiled. We were screwed; it would be a miracle if we found the necklace and made it alive. “So what you want to do when we come back to the civilization?”

“All I want to do is to lie in my bed and binge watch RuPaul’s Drag Race,” I admitted honestly, even though it might’ve sounded silly to Jungkook. “Don’t judge, it’s highly addictive.”

“I’m not judging you,” he chuckled, and I wondered if he was honest with me. “I was just asking what you’re gonna do with your discovery. If the necklace is half as important as you let it on, then I’m pretty sure you’re gonna be a headliner soon.” Jungkook elaborated, and I, being a complete idiot, blushed.

“Oh,” it’s all that left my mouth. I was shocked, for someone who could double-cross me, Jungkook appeared to be suspiciously supportive of my achievement. “Thanks, Jungkook,” I answered quietly still digesting his words. He was right; if I came back home with the necklace, it would definitely bring me lots of fame and wealth. “And what are you gonna do if we make it alive?”

“I’m not sure,” he whispered, thinking of the best way to convey his thought into words. “This journey is an once-in-a-lifetime adventure, so I’ll probably live my life peacefully, sometimes reminiscing how fun it was here with you,” Jungkook explained, and I felt funny. Yes, it was dangerous, but above all, it was incredibly exciting.

“It’s not gonna be as fun when I push in a puma’s claws, so I can run for my life,” I joked, and Jungkook chuckled, reminding me of the night we met; I had been feeling so lighthearted back then. “I’m not joking, though.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Jungkook teased, and I shook my head. We were alone in the middle of the jungle, yet we still could find some energy to bicker playfully. “You’d be scared shitless to move, let alone push me. I saw how you reacted to a harmless snake, trust me, you’re not gonna do shit,” he added, and I smacked his shoulder, acting offended.

“It’s a mistake to underestimate me,” I retorted, but Jungkook didn’t appreciate it. Instead, he only raised his hand, wanting to shush me. Cocking my eyebrow up, I eyed him, a little bit fed up with his superior attitude. “What do you –“ I started, but Jungkook quickly turned around, and cupped my mouth. Confused, I furrowed my eyebrows, looking up at him.

“Shh…” he whispered before he removed his hand from my mouth. “It appears the island isn’t completely deserted,” he commented, and I fixated my eyes on the people on the meadow just a couple meters away from us.

“Who are these people?” I asked him quietly, not expecting him to know the answer. It didn’t make any sense; where the hell did they come from? What kind of shady business were they engaging in here?

“I don’t know… maybe they’re pirates or something,” Jungkook guessed, and I just shrugged, not knowing what to say. It was a possibility. “I think we should get out of here,” he proposed, and I agreed. I didn’t want to get involved with these people; it was for the better if they didn’t know about our presence.

It was reasonable to retreat, but curiosity got the better of me. When Jungkook was cautiously backtracking, I was observing them. It bugged me that I didn’t know the reason why they were here, but when I saw one of the men carrying white packages, I regretted my actions.

They were smuggling drugs, and I was positive that I wanted to stay as far from them as it was possible. They were dangerous. Though I wasn’t entirely convinced, I believed that Namjoon didn't threat as much as they did.

“Are you going or not?” Jungkook whispered, and I immediately nodded my head, walking up to him in a hurry. Unfortunately, I didn’t watch down, so being the idiot I am, I tripped over the roots. “Fuck,” Jungkook cursed when he saw me fall down, face first.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I cursed under my breath when I realized how loud disturbance I caused. The smugglers had to be deaf to ignore such strange noises coming from the bushes. Quickly, I picked myself up and ran after Jungkook.

The men were chasing us, but we had heavy backpacks, so it was just a matter of time until they would catch us. It was just fantastic, we had survived Namjoon’s attack, yet right now, we were going to be killed by some drug smugglers.

My life was just perfect.

And all of that because I wanted to find some jewel.

Mindlessly, I ran after Jungkook. The adrenaline must’ve kicked in because I wasn’t tired at all. Furthermore, my large backpack felt like as light as a feather. In no time, I caught up with Jungkook, sprinting right next to him.

“Jungkook, look,” I said when I saw a large rock with a split in it; it looked like shelter, and we could hide away in there if we were fast enough.

“It looks like a tunnel,” Jungkook noticed when we squeezed into the chink. “Should we go further? It can be a dead end,” Jungkook asked, a bit doubtful about exploring the cave.

“Let’s go further,” I said confidently, “just in case, they find this gap,” I added, knowing it would convince him. These men meant trouble, and we both wanted to never see them again.

Cautiously, I put my backpack on the ground, looking for small LED flashlights, giving Jungkook one.

“Ladies first?” Jungkook asked, and I just shook my head, bravely going further. “Who would’ve thought that we could attract so much trouble,” Jungkook said, trying to kill the pregnant silence. We were walking for the last thirty minutes, and the exit seemed unreachable. “It’s never boring with you, is it?”

“What are you talking about? I can boldly say that you’re responsible for the eighty percent of everything bad that has happened to us,” I said with a playful smile. The only fault in my behavior was not paying attention to where I was going; the rest of our misfortune was caused by him. “Shh… I think I’ve heard something,” I shushed him quickly, sensing upcoming trouble. Perhaps, these men knew this area better. Maybe, they knew all along that we were going to hide in this cave, so they just slowed down their pace, letting us think we’re safe.

“You’re just paranoid,” Jungkook said with a shrug. “They won’t find us here in a million years,” he added jokingly, but it didn’t make me laugh. I was still anxious. “Oh,” Jungkook mused upon noticing something, “check this out,” he prompted me, flashing the light on the wall. “What can it mean?” Jungkook wondered, gawking at the strange letters.

“Jungkook, I think this is it,” I answered, having difficulties with forming words. “I think it’s Aminata’s grave,” I added, wanting to pull out my phone. I had on it copies of the most important documents on her legend as well as I had my notes of their ancient language.

“Can you read it?” Jungkook asked in curiosity, being amazed by my skills, even though I haven’t showcased them yet. “It looks weird; are they even letters?”

“They are,” I confirmed quickly, looking for the right file on my phone, determined to decrypt the message on the wall. “Can you point your flashlight at it?” I asked, and Jungkook swiftly aimed his torch at the wall, fulfilling my request.

“What does it say?”

“Well… it’s hard to translate it literally, but it basically means “who lives by the sword shall die by the sword”. It’s strange; why did they put it here? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Maybe it doesn’t, but it surely gives me chills,” Jungkook said, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. “Should we get back?”

Jungkook must’ve gone nuts if he thought that I’d just give up at the very finishing line. We were by the gate to Aminata’s tomb; there was no way I would just turn around and quit. I hadn’t survived all the misery to come back home empty-handed.

“No, we’re going further,” I said confidently, blowing my fringe off my forehead. “We’re close, I’m feeling it,” I added, and Jungkook sighed in doubt. “You can stay here, but I’m going.” It didn’t matter to me if Jungkook wanted to join me or not. If he didn’t feel like it, he could stay behind.

“Are you insane? I can’t let you go in there alone, I’m coming with,” he quickly said, sending me another boyish smile. Jungkook was truly endearing when he was looking out for me.

“Fine, but if you have a knife or anything that you can use as a weapon, leave it here,” I suggested, and Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “What? Didn’t you get the message? Don’t you know it’s better not to mess with curses? Ancient ones in particular.”

“Sure, you’re the boss here,” Jungkook voiced, hesitantly leaving all his weaponry on the ground. “Lead the way.”

Completely weaponless, we explored the cave further. It was risky as hell, but nothing inside the cave could’ve been more dangerous than the drug smugglers looking for us.

Although it felt as if we walked kilometers, I didn’t feel tired. The anticipation and excitement completely took over me, giving me the strength which I needed to fulfill my mission. Unfortunately, I couldn’t say the same thing about Jungkook; he was panting behind me, probably waiting for the tunnel to end.

“Shit, now I think I heard something,” Jungkook whispered, suspicious of strange sounds from within the cave. “It’s not possible, though. How the hell would they find us here?”

Though I didn’t hear anything, I wasn’t going to disregard his suspicion. It seemed highly unlikely, but we had to be prepared for the worst; especially when we were unarmed, lost somewhere in a long, dark tunnel.

“Then we can only pick up the pace, find the necklace, and hope there’s an exit on the other end of its tunnel,” I concluded, but Jungkook didn’t seem very convinced. It was evident that he didn’t fancy my plan, but currently, it was the only idea we had.

Our casual stroll quickly morphed into a swift march; it required plenty of energy, but in the face of danger, it didn’t matter. This procedure had to be done.

“Is it weird that all of this turns me on?” Jungkook commented, once again attempting to lighten up the atmosphere between us. “All I can think of right now is how I want to fuck you when we come back.”

“You better stop that train of thought and focus, Jeon. We have a job to do, please focus,” I scolded him, and Jungkook, with a quiet whine, composed himself. “Really, Jungkook, you can’t keep it in your– aaah” I screamed when I lost my footing, falling into an abyss.

Two-meter deep abyss – still an abyss.

“Shit, are you okay?” Jungkook asked me, now not caring about his volume. If someone were actually on our tail, there was no way they wouldn’t hear my pathetic scream.

“Yep, I’m okay, although all in the dust,” I said when I realized I was lying in a pile of dust and whatnot. “Well… I hope it’s only dust,” I added before I began sweeping the dust off of me.

“Move aside, I’m coming in,” Jungkook warmed me before he jumped into the hole. “Do you think it’s the tomb?” He asked, and I looked around, studying my surroundings.

The pit looked simple. Rocks on the left, rocks on the right; no diamonds, no gold.

Well, except for one beautiful necklace sitting on a handful of tiny bones – which must’ve been Yaya’s phalanges.

“OMG, there it is, can you believe it?” I asked Jungkook when I ran up to the necklace, admiring its timeless beauty. It looked even better than I had imagined. Regardless of ornate words used to write these legends, nothing could convey its elegance.

“What I really can’t believe is that you used the abbreviation in an oral conversation,” Jungkook retorted, but I dismissed his rejoinder. The object of my research was within my reach, I couldn’t pay less attention to my annoying sidekick and his quips.

Just before I touched the necklace, I heard a bullet ricocheting against the walls of the cave.

“These fools,” I spoke, remembering the strange writing on the wall. “It’s not good,” I mentioned to Jungkook right before a few smugglers jumped into the hole, pointing their guns at us.

They were giving us some orders, but neither of us could comprehend what they wanted us to do. Based on their intonation I could only theorize the meaning behind their words. On the other hand, when one man’s gun pointed at me and then slightly tilted it in the direction of the necklace, it was actually pretty self-explanatory.

Despite the direct message, none of us moved an inch. Jungkook and I were stubborn, unwilling to cooperate. Maybe, someone would admire our courage, but most people would call us stupid.

The tallest of the smugglers wasn’t having it; he was sick and tired of our attitude. Staring into my eyes, he raised his gun, aiming at my head. It was perfect; after all I had experienced, it was how I was going to die.

Whispering something chilling, he pulled the trigger, whereas I, expecting to get shot, closed my eyes. Suspecting these milliseconds to stretch into hours, I anticipated the impact. It never came, though. Time passed, yet I didn’t feel anything.

Then, I opened my eyes and saw the man drop on the ground. He had a clear shot, yet he missed, and the bullet ricocheted and went right through his forehead. What the fuck? A few laws of physics must’ve been broken for it to happen.

“That explains the quote on the wall,” Jungkook stated when he slightly leaned toward me, taking advantage of the smugglers’ disorientation. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“It depends; are you wondering what Indiana Jones would do in this situation?” I answered, still unable to process what just happened to that man.

“Well… kinda.” Jungkook shrugged. “Take that necklace and let’s get the hell out of here,” he proposed, and I nodded my head, mindlessly following his suggestion.

It was unreasonable; as long as Jungkook and I were in the cave, we were safe. They couldn’t hurt us with their weapon. On the other hand, if we were outside, nothing could stop them from shooting us down. Unfortunately, due all that accumulated stress and panic, my mind didn’t function properly.

Quickly, I grabbed the necklace and ran after Jungkook.

At the same time, the smugglers fixated their eyes on me, blocking my way to the entrance. Each of them stared into my eyes with what seemed admiration? With each passing second, I could comprehend less and less.

What the hell happened this time around?

On cue, the smugglers kneeled before me.

“It starts to get really creepy,” said Jungkook upon seeing the strange behavior. “Care to explain what you’ve done to them?” Jungkook urged me, but I was lost for words. He demanded an answer, and I wished to have one.

“How should I know; I’m absolutely clueless,” I whispered, still in confusion. The smugglers behaved as if they were infatuated zombies. And then it hit me. “No, it’s not possible,” I muttered to myself, unable to fully wrap my head around it.

“Can you enlighten me? What is going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Jungkook said something, but to me, it was all white noise.

My theory didn’t make any sense. It couldn’t be possible that everything is valid. Magic is a myth; it was crazy. I couldn’t control their behavior with that necklace. And even if I could, how come Jungkook seemed resistant to it?

According to the legend, every man who took a glimpse of Aminata felt a strong desire to worship her. Men were literally falling to her feet; all men – no exceptions. It just couldn’t be happening to me, it just couldn’t.

Jungkook, still unfazed – exhibit A.

“Stand up,” I ordered them, and although they hadn’t spoken English before, they perfectly understood me. “Help me get out of the hole,” I added, and they obediently positioned themselves directly under the hole, ready to pick me up.

“What the hell is going on?” Jungkook asked, blinking swiftly, trying to grasp the current situation. How did they, in a matter of seconds, turn from shooters to butlers?

“No time to talk, let’s get the hell out of here,” I commanded before I started to run away outside, not even waiting for Jungkook to follow me. I wanted to feel the fresh air as soon as it was possible, and I didn’t care if Jungkook thought the same.

Whatever happened in the tomb, it was too much to take in, and I needed time and space to digest it; preferably, in a four-star hotel, sipping my fourth mimosa. Yep, that sounded like a perfect plan.

The distance seemed shorter when we were going out of the cave. One moment I was controlling zombie-smugglers, while the other I was basking in the sunlight.

“What the hell was that?” Jungkook asked when we sat down on the ground, panting while I took an empty ziplock bag and put the necklace in it. “I’ve never seen anything like that,” he added, and I just shrugged, not knowing how to explain it, especially when I wasn’t sure about it either.

“I have no idea.” I sat beside him, pulling out a bottle of water, taking a few gulps of it. “Shit, there are more of them,” I pinpointed when I saw a few men running in our direction. “And they don’t seem to be enchanted like the ones in the cave.”

“Holy shit, when will this day be over?” Jungkook cursed, jumping to his feet. “And they aren’t alone, look there,” he added, pointing his finger to the left. “Oh my God, I don’t fucking believe it.”

“What?” I asked, once again being completely clueless.

“It’s Namjoon and his crew.”

Fuck. What else was going to hunt us? Aliens?

“What are we doing now?”

“Let’s split,” Jungkook proposed, and I couldn’t say I liked that idea. “I’ll go this way, and you go that way. We will meet by the chopper wrack. Once we lose them, we’ll figure out what we’re gonna do next, okay?”

I wasn’t okay, but we didn’t have time to strategize a better plan.

“Okay,” I answered, and Jungkook pulled me closer, giving me a kiss. This act surprised me, but I didn’t hate it. It was somewhat adorable. “Good luck,” I quickly added before we ran away separate ways.

Not looking backward, I sprinted as fast as I could. Adrenaline-driven, I really felt as if I was breaking some records. Unfortunately, it seemed to be only a figment of my imagination.

Not even twenty minutes later, I was surrounded by six pissed off smugglers. Due to our snooping, they must’ve lost almost an entire day of loading their shipments. Although I was scared shitless, they seemed to be pleased to catch me.

It was pointless to run at this point, so I decided to check if the trick with the necklace would work in this situation too. All of the men were looking at me, wondering what I was doing. In a desperate attempt, I put off my backpack and opened the pocket where I had hidden the necklace. Much to my surprise, it was gone.

“That motherfucker,” I whispered, furious at Jungkook for double-crossing me like that.

______

Sometime this week, I will post the second (final) part to it. Stay tuned!

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