#and besides. there is nothing in the game that suggests she's somehow tied to that chassis

[some-new-disaster]

idk what's going on in the portal tag today but Yikes ™

[junghelioseok]

clandestine. | 02

↳ forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest.

◇ jungkook x reader ◇ smut | fluff | brother’s best friend!au ◇ 7k [2/6]

notes: looks like it’s a writing/editing kinda day, folks! hope you enjoy this installment, and let me know what you think! 

warnings: jk’s massive noona kink: a recurring yet warranted warning, jeon jungkook is a goddamn tease, smuuuut, oral (f receiving), jk’s got a big dick whoOPS, minimally edited bc i’m feeling lazy

⇢ 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 

Morning brings with it bright sunshine and fresh horror as the events of the previous evening come rushing back. You aren’t sure you’ll ever be able to look Jeon Jungkook in the eye again—or at least, not without being reminded of the way he’d plagued every single one of your dreams with devilish eyes and even more devilish fingers. Groaning, you scrub at your temples, as if that will help dispel the memories. After a few fruitless moments, you crawl out of bed and head for the bathroom, intent on washing everything away with a good, cold shower.

Try as you might, though, you simply cannot avoid your dark-haired neighbor. You’re in the kitchen sipping at your second coffee of the day and debating what you want for lunch when there’s a knock on the front door—a familiar rhythm that has your heart stuttering. “It’s open!” Jimin yells from the living room, and a moment later, the devil himself strolls in, wearing a plain black t-shirt with ripped jeans and well-worn Timberlands. Vaguely, you wonder when he made the switch from white tees to black, but your musings are cut short when he spots you in the kitchen, an impish grin settling across his face.

“Hey, Noona.”

“Hey.” You thank whatever god may be out there that your voice is steady. “Jimin’s in the living room.”

Jungkook tilts his head coyly and takes a step forward. “What makes you think I’m here for Jimin? Maybe I came to see you.”

Anxiously, you swallow down the memories of his warm hands that are trying to resurface. “I highly doubt that.”

“Really?” Jungkook takes another step forward and plucks the coffee mug from your hands. “What if I came over to finish what I started last night?”

Heat floods across your face. “That—that was… I mean, I don’t—”

“You don’t what?” Jungkook asks, raising a brow. “Want me? Because I’m pretty sure that’s a lie, Noona.” Quietly, he closes the last bit of distance between you, and when he speaks again you can feel his warm breath fanning across your cheeks with every word. “You see, I think you want me. Just as much as I want you. Am I wrong?”

“Jungkook, we—”

“Dude, what’s taking you so long?” Jimin’s head suddenly pops around the doorway, and you nearly jump out of your skin in your effort to put some distance between you and your dark-haired neighbor. “I’m about to start the game without you.”

“Just wanted to grab some coffee and say hi to {Name},” Jungkook replies, raising your half-empty mug to his lips and taking a sip. “Did you want to join us, Noona? It’d be fun to watch you kick Jimin’s ass at Mario Kart again.”

You swallow, hard. “I can’t. I’ve got homework to do.” Not strictly true, perhaps, but you’d been planning on looking over the details of your internship again at some point, and now seems as good a time as any. “Sorry,” you add quickly, seeing Jungkook’s disbelieving expression.

“Summer homework? Gross.” Jimin pulls a face. “You’re still coming to Tae’s party though, right?”

You nod, unwillingly catching Jungkook’s eye again. He’s still sipping at your coffee, and you don’t miss the flagrant wink he shoots you over the rim of the cup. “See you later then, Noona,” he says, his voice practically a purr.

“Right,” you respond dully, your heart skipping a beat at the dark promise in his stare. “Later.”

Jimin and Jungkook disappear down the hall, but you remain rooted in the kitchen for a few minutes longer, listening as the music of whatever video game they’ve decided on starts playing from the living room. Heaving a sigh, you fetch a new mug from the cupboard and pour yourself some more coffee, grabbing an apple and a bag of chips as well. Taking everything up to your bedroom, you pull out your laptop and make yourself comfortable on your bed, plugging in some headphones to drown out the noise from downstairs. With any luck, you won’t have to see Jungkook again until you have to leave for Taehyung’s party, and you’re pretty sure that it’ll be easy to avoid him once you’re there.

In fact, you’re certain of it.

So with that thought in mind, you settle down with your coffee and open up Netflix, sinking into the pillows and pushing your dark-haired neighbor into the deepest recesses of your mind. It isn’t until your phone starts vibrating insistently against your thigh that you are startled out of your binge-watching, the screen lit up with two new notifications. Surprised, you realize that hours have passed, the sky outside your window deepening into the hazy blue of nighttime.

[6:02pm] Jungkook: you hungry, noona?

[6:02pm] Jungkook: for pizza, i mean. we ordered dinner

[6:03pm] Jungkook: but i’ll be your dessert if you want me ;)

You drop your phone as if burned, his final message playing over and over in your mind. It takes you a full minute to gather your wits again, stowing your device in your pocket without responding and carefully picking your way downstairs. Already, you can smell the cheesy grease, your stomach growling in anticipation.

Just grab the pizza and go, you think to yourself, formulating your escape plan and double-checking it for any holes. Dine and dash.

You’re walking past the foyer when there’s suddenly a knock on the front door. Curiously, you answer it, swinging it open to see a familiar grinning face standing on the doorstep. Lee Taemin is a good friend of Jimin’s, and your brother pokes his head out from the kitchen at the sound of your greeting, clearly expecting the new guest.

“Taemin! Get in here and have some pizza,” Jimin says, his mouth full. “You too, Noona. We got plenty.”

Instead of immediately heading for the food, Taemin wraps you in a hug that has you wheezing for air. “Long time no see, huh? How’ve you been?”

You squirm in his tight embrace, raised to your tiptoes. “Put me down, you heathen. I’m fine right now, but I won’t be if you suffocate me.”

Taemin chortles good-naturedly and releases his grip, ruffling your hair. “Good to see you too, {Name}. Honestly, it hasn’t been the same around here without you. How long are you back for? The whole summer?”

You shake your head. “Just a couple weeks. I’ve got to get back for an internship.”

“Already a hotshot, huh?” Taemin grins. “What are you going to be doing?”

The topic of your summer job is a welcome distraction from the way Jungkook’s dark gaze trails after you as you tread into the kitchen alongside Taemin, slapping two slices of pizza onto a plate and glancing around for a napkin. You can feel his eyes boring into the back of your skull, prickling your skin with electricity, but continue your conversation with Taemin as if nothing is amiss.

“You gonna sit down or what?” Taemin gives you a quizzical glance as he pulls a chair out from the table, joining Jimin and Jungkook who are already seated. You do your best to ignore the way Jungkook’s jaw flexes with every chew, somehow managing to look infuriatingly handsome despite the mouth full of dough and pizza grease staining his chin.

“I—” Your mind whirs, searching for the excuse you had planned. “—I still have some work to do. Reading and whatnot.”

“Nerd,” Jimin snorts.

Taemin shrugs. “Okay, then. Suit yourself, I guess.”

Jungkook doesn’t say anything. But you feel his eyes burning into your skin as you head back upstairs, and it isn’t until you are safely back in your bedroom, sagging against the closed door, that you can finally breathe properly again.

///

You end up departing for the party nearly twenty minutes after the official start time of eight o’clock, caving to Jimin’s insistence on being fashionably late. Personally, you think he just wanted the extra time to work on his hair—making sure every strand is perfectly, effortlessly tousled—and call him out on it as he locks the front door behind you.

“I didn’t spend that long on my hair,” Jimin sniffs defensively. “Besides, you’re the one who needed to run back in and get your wallet. What do you even need your wallet for? We’re walking like, four blocks.”

“Better safe than sorry,” you retort. “What if I get murdered and they need to identify my body? What if I get mugged? You never know!”

Taemin falls into step beside you. “What if we need to tip a stripper?” he chimes in.

You nod and raise your hand for a high-five without taking your eyes off your brother. “Exactly! You have to tip your sex workers, Chim!”

Jimin waggles a suggestive eyebrow. “I think I’d rather give them a different ti—”

You push him off the sidewalk before he can finish speaking, pulling a face as he stumbles into the street in a fit of laughter. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence, you perv!”

The remainder of the short walk to Taehyung’s house passes uneventfully. Jimin doesn’t bother knocking, throwing open the door like he owns the place, and you trail after him with Taemin and Jungkook on your heels. Immediately, you’re assailed by a cacophonous sea of conversation and thumping music, people milling around in the dimly lit interior.

“There you are!” The voice comes from your left, and you barely have time to register the speaker’s face before she’s gasping and engulfing you in a hug. “{Name}, you made it! Hi!”

You laugh, squeezing her back. “Hi, Chaeyoung. It’s good to see you. Sorry I didn’t catch you at graduation.”

“Oh please,” she says, waving you off. “We have all the time in the world to catch up now. Let’s get you away from these boys and find you a drink, shall we?” Flipping a lock of strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder, she loops her arm through yours and begins steering you toward the kitchen. “So what are you in the mood for? The beer’s shit, so I’d stay away from anything in the cooler, but everything else is actually drinkable.”

“Shocking,” you remark, peering at the mess of bottles and cups lining the kitchen counter. There’s a massive bowl of a horrifyingly neon green concoction as well, and you take one whiff before backing away again, nose wrinkling in disgust. “I see Tae’s still making punch.”

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” Chaeyoung advises. “He’s somehow managed to make it twice as sugary and three times more alcoholic than last year’s. Pretty sure it’s worse than moonshine at this point.”

You grin and locate an empty cup, raising it in her direction. “Thanks for the heads up.”

Chaeyoung refills her own drink, and you settle on a simple blend of cranberry juice and vodka. Together, you head back in the direction of the living room, where Jisoo and Lisa are chattering away on a couch in the corner. They look up at your arrival, greeting you with smiles and hugs, and quickly usher you into a seat beside them.

“So,” Jisoo begins, leaning forward. “How’s college?”

“Tell us everything,” Lisa adds, propping her chin in her palm. “Is it nice living away from home?”

Jisoo waggles her brows. “Forget that. Have you met any guys?”

Unbidden, Jungkook springs to the forefront of your mind, dark eyes staring at you from beneath equally dark hair as he leans down, down, down—

“Nope!” you blurt before your thoughts can progress any further. “I mean, I share a suite with a couple guys, but that doesn’t count.”

“Are they cute?” Lisa prods.

“They must be more mature than these high school boys,” Chaeyoung sighs.

“Hardly,” you snort. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

The gossip continues. More people arrive as the night wears on, the living room filling up with dancing bodies. A few girls you don’t know join in your conversation, perching on armrests and ottomans and the carpeted floor as a last resort. Across the hall in the dining room, you spot Taemin setting up a table for beer pong, a triumphant shout going up when Taehyung procures an unopened package of balls from somewhere in the hall closet.

“This is gonna be tournament style, got it?” he announces as he tears the package open. “Winner goes up against the undefeated champs—Jungkook and Yugyeom!”

Even from your comfy seat on the couch, you can see the arrogant twist of Jungkook’s mouth as he leans over to give Yugyeom a high-five. You can’t tear your eyes away from the way he tongues his cheek, lounging back into a chair to watch the first round of the game. Jimin steps forward alongside Taehyung, and you watch as your brother scrutinizes the pyramid of cups, poised to make a throw that lifts his shirt just enough to expose a flash of his admittedly toned abdomen.

“He wore that shirt on purpose,” Jisoo accuses, and you huff out a sound that’s more snort than laugh.

“Please, it’s just the only shirt he owns that isn’t dirty. Trust me.”

“I don’t even care,” another girl you don’t know the name of pipes up. “I’d still let him blow my back out.”

You grimace. “And on that note, I suddenly need another drink,” you announce, to giggles. Wrenching out of your cozy seat between Jisoo and Lisa, you wave your near empty cup in farewell and make your way toward the kitchen, carefully skirting around the dancers and beer pong spectators spilling out into the hallway.

The kitchen is deserted when you walk in, everyone having flocked to the dining room to watch the beer pong tournament. Humming along to the music, you open up the fridge and survey its contents, hoping to find something decent. Curiously, you pick your way past a few cans before turning a dark glass bottle around to read the label.

“Are you avoiding me, Noona?”

The voice comes from behind you, deep and sinfully resonant, and you don’t even have to turn around to know that he’s standing just inches away. His breath ruffles through the hair at the nape of your neck, sending gooseflesh prickling across your skin, and when strong hands curl gently around your hips you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“I missed you, y’know,” he continues, his mouth finding its way to your ear and nipping lightly at the lobe. “You didn’t talk to me all day, even though I was right there in your house. Ran like a scared little rabbit when you saw me in the kitchen, didn’t you?” Softly, his lips ghost along the column of your throat, pressing a kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder. “So, now what? Are you gonna run from me again?”

You don’t think you could if you tried. Your feet are rooted firmly in place, your entire body frozen as you await whatever he’ll do next. And when he urges you to spin around and face him, you obey immediately, your hands coming up to splay against his chest as he presses even closer and rewards your compliance with a kiss.

“Jungkook,” you breathe against his parted lips. “Jungkook, god.”

Slowly, he trails down your neck, leaving soft nips in his wake. “Yes, Noona?”

“We can’t,” you whisper, even as your head falls back to allow him more access to your clavicle. “Jungkook, we can’t do this.”

Your companion raises his head then, his dark gaze meeting yours. “Tell me to stop,” he says quietly. His thumbs dip beneath the hem of your shirt, rubbing circles into the soft skin of your waist, and you inhale sharply at the feeling. “If that’s what you want, Noona, just tell me to stop and I will. I promise.”

He’s palming along your hips now. The warmth of his palms seeps into your body, rendering it increasingly difficult to concentrate. His mouth returns to your neck as he awaits your answer, and you don’t miss the way his lips curl into a smirk against the delicate skin of your collarbone when you hesitate a moment too long.

“Well, Noona?”

Fuck it. Your arms wind around his neck, pulling him closer until there’s no space left between your bodies. “Jungkook, kiss me,” you breathe, throwing all remaining remnants of caution to the wind.

Jungkook straightens up to his full height, his smirk widening. “Anything for you, princess,” he remarks before leaning down, winding one hand in your hair and finding purchase in the curve of your waist with the other. The newfound pet name ignites a tendril of heat in the pit of your belly, and when Jungkook finally closes the gap between your lips, you release a breathy moan that he eagerly swallows. The hand in your hair tightens its grip to pull you even closer, tongues and teeth clashing as he deepens the kiss.

It’s only when the need for air becomes critical that you break away from him with a gasp, your lungs aching. Jungkook isn’t faring much better, his chest heaving beneath the thin white material of his t-shirt. He releases his grip on your hair, his thumb grazing across your cheek gently instead, and when he leans in to plant another kiss on your mouth, you exhale shakily. “God, Jungkook.”

His arm tightens around your waist. “What do you need, princess?” he asks, and you can’t deny your delight at his continued use of the nickname. His teeth find the lobe of your ear again, and you release a breathy moan as he delivers a particularly sharp nip to the soft flesh before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive spot just below it. “Tell me. Tell me, and I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you anything you want.”

You slide your hands along his broad shoulders and up to his nape, brushing the silver hoops in his ears before tangling your fingers in his silky hair. “You’re teasing me.”

Jungkook clicks his tongue and pulls away, your arms falling uselessly to your sides as he takes a step back. “I just need to hear you say it, Noona,” he chides, his voice leaving no room for disobedience. “I need to hear you say that you want this. That you want me.”

A shiver dances up your spine, and you aren’t sure whether it’s due to his wicked lilt or the sudden absence of his body heat. “I want you,” you whisper, reaching out to touch him. “Jungkook, please.”

The smirk that spreads across his face is absolutely devastating. “Then come with me,” he commands softly, taking your hand and lacing your fingers together. You leave behind the thumping music and the loud chatter of the party, allowing Jungkook to pull you into one of several rooms lining the hallway and squeaking when he shuts the door and immediately pins you against it. His mouth slants across yours, hot and urgent, and you moan into the kiss as your hands fly up to grip his shoulders.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” Jungkook breathes, pulling away just enough to whisper the words against your lips. “Fuck, princess, look at this tiny little skirt you’re wearing. You’ve been killing me all night, you know that?”

He punctuates the words with another kiss, nipping harshly at your bottom lip. His hands slide down to the curve of your ass, and you gasp when he scoops you up effortlessly. “Legs around my waist,” he orders, readjusting his grip as he begins walking you further into the room.

It’s the laundry room, you realize upon closer inspection. Jungkook’s busy mouthing at your neck, but he breaks away with a smirk when he finally reaches his destination, plopping you down atop the cool metal of the washing machine. “Shame there’s nothing in here,” he remarks, kicking the side softly. “I really wanna fuck you with this thing running one day. But for now…” His smirk widens, his hands settling on your knees. “This’ll do.”

In an instant, he’s pushed up your skirt and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down and off your legs. He drops to his knees, smoothing his hands along your inner thighs, and your cheeks flush when he urges you to spread them further. “Jungkook—“ you mumble, thoroughly embarrassed as he stares reverently at your exposed core, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. “Quit staring at me like that.”

“I can’t help it,” he murmurs, leaning in and pressing a soft trail of kisses along your thigh. “You’re so beautiful, Noona.”

“You…”

You trail off, unsure of what to say. What do you say when your little brother’s best friend is staring at you like you’re a desert oasis and he’s been wandering, dehydrated, for days? What do you say when the scrawny neighbor kid you’d grown up with is caressing every inch of your legs, soothing the soft skin with his fingers and lips?

What do you say when you realize, once and for all, that Jeon Jungkook is undoubtedly—unabashedly—a man now?

You swallow, hard. Jungkook is nearing your core now, his hair tickling your thighs, and you gasp when he slides a finger up your slit experimentally. “You’re so wet,” he breathes. “So wet, and so—” He touches the pad of his finger to his tongue, grinning up at you as he laps up your essence. “—delicious. Fuck. You’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

And then he leans forward, boldly licking a stripe up the length of your entrance. Strong arms wind around your legs to hold you open, and when he shoves his face even deeper, his nose brushing against your clit, you let out a strangled whimper. “Fuck, Jungkook—”

The sound of his name draws a pleased hum from the young man nestled between your thighs, rumbling through his chest and straight to your core. Your walls clench, but Jungkook stubbornly refuses to dip his tongue inside. Instead, he teases at your folds, spreading them apart with two fingers and licking ardently at your leaking juices before kissing a short trail up to your clit. “Can you cum like this?” he asks curiously, thumbing across the sensitive bundle of nerves.

His answer comes in the form of a breathy gasp, your hips jerking upward to seek out more friction. Jungkook chuckles and obliges your silent request, dark eyes flickering up to meet yours as he begins rubbing slow circles around your bud. “Guess that’s a yes,” he murmurs, pressing yet another kiss to your thigh. His gaze remains locked on yours as he rubs a little harder, dragging your juices up from your slit and digging in deep until you are moaning aloud, your hands coming down to fist in his silky hair.

“I-I’m close,” you keen. “Please, Jungkook, please.”

Jungkook hums and leans back. At the same time, he slides two fingers inside you, curling them upward, and the sudden surge of fullness is more than enough to tip you over the edge. His name escapes your lips in a garbled moan, your walls spasming around his hand as he continues teasing your clit, drawing out your orgasm until you finally whine from oversensitivity and bat him away. Obediently, he withdraws, rising to his feet so that he towers over you once more.

“Holy fuck,” he murmurs, staring down at you with an expression caught somewhere between awestruck wonder and unbridled hunger. “You’re so pretty when you cum. So pretty and perfect and—” He swallows, his throat bobbing harshly. “God, I need to fuck you. Can I fuck you now, Noona? Will you let me stretch open this pretty little pussy and fill you up with my cock?”

Your breath hitches. Never in a million years could you have imagined that your brother’s mild-mannered best friend could have such a filthy mouth, but you cannot hide the way your core clenches at his words. Slowly, you raise your arms, winding them around his neck to pull him closer. “Yes,” you whisper, brushing your lips against his. “Fuck me, Jungkook.”

A groan escapes him, deep and cavernous in a way that sends heat spiking through your veins. Jungkook doesn’t waste any time, his mouth chasing after yours as one hand finds the back of your head, pulling you into a bruising kiss. The other slides down to the waistband of his jeans, freeing himself from the confines of the denim. He doesn’t break the kiss for a moment, even as he grabs your hips and pulls you closer. It isn’t until you’re seated on the very edge of the washing machine, wrapping your legs around his waist to steady yourself, that you pull away and let your gaze fall to his newly revealed cock. Jungkook is long and deliciously thick, and you let out a shaky breath when you see the pearlescent white drops beading at the swollen tip.

“Oh my god.” The words bubble up automatically, escaping you in an airy whisper. “How are you so big?”

Jungkook huffs out a hoarse chuckle, amusement glittering in his dark irises. “Think you can take all of me, princess?”

Your gaze falls down to his length again, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. “Put on a condom, and let’s find out.”

Jungkook grins and produces a little foil wrapper from somewhere in his back pocket, tearing into it with his teeth. You help him roll the condom over his cock, and as soon as it’s in place, he’s lining himself up and pushing inside you. A deep groan escapes him as he parts your walls inch by torturous inch, and you moan as your pussy is stretched to its limit, molding to his shape and sheer size. By the time he bottoms out, he’s almost prodding at your cervix, and you grab breathlessly at his bicep.

“I—I need a minute,” you gasp, your body spasming around him as you fight to adjust to the surge of fullness.

“Me too,” Jungkook rasps, his voice strained. His eyes flutter shut as he inhales deeply through his nose, cursing again when you clench around him unconsciously. “Fuck. You’re so tight.”

For a few moments, there’s only the sound of Jungkook’s labored breathing, his head falling forward to rest on your shoulder. His breath is hot against the exposed skin of your clavicle, and you sigh when you feel him mouthing at the delicate skin, nipping softly before soothing across it with his tongue.

At the sound, Jungkook raises his head, dark eyes meeting yours before dropping down to where the two of you are joined. “God, you look so good like this,” he murmurs, licking his lips. “So pretty, stuffed full of my cock.”

You clench around him again—this time more purposefully. Jungkook’s mouth falls open, a silent question on the tip of his tongue, and you answer it with a deliberate roll of your hips, wordlessly encouraging him to move. Gingerly, he obeys, retreating until only the head of his erection remains inside you. His hand drops down to your clit, and you keen out his name when he surges forward at the same time he flicks his thumb across the sensitive nub. Pleasure licks at your spine, replacing the discomfort. Jungkook lets out a pleased hum.

Slowly, he works up a rhythm, keeping his thrusts shallow as he begins rubbing circles around your clit again. With his other hand, he slides the straps of your top down your shoulders, tugging the bodice down just enough to free your breasts. Your nipples harden at the exposure, and a moan escapes you when he immediately takes one between his fingers, rolling and pinching at the peak. The additional stimulation, paired with the heavy drag of his cock along your walls and his insistent thumb on your clit, has you teetering dangerously close to the edge, your tummy tensing.

“Jungkook—” you whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders. He grunts in response and picks up the pace, rolling even more fervently up into your clenching heat, and you gasp when a particularly hard thrust sends you scooting backward atop the washing machine. “Fuck! I’m close, Jungkook.”

“Me too,” he grits out. “Come on, princess, cum for me. I know you can do it, just let go for me one more time—”

And with one final flick of his wrist and a thrust that’s so deep you can practically feel him in the back of your throat, you come completely undone, spasming wildly around his cock. It all proves too much for Jungkook, who’s groaning right alongside you as he reaches his high, spilling into the condom. He chants your name like a prayer as his hips gradually still, and his lips seek out yours almost instinctively as his cock softens inside you. The kiss is lazy and languid, contentment settling in your veins. Jungkook wraps you up in a warm embrace, his tongue dipping inside your mouth to explore.

It isn’t until a loud cheer rises up from the front of the house that you snap out of your blissful haze. “We should get back to the party,” you mumble into the kiss, pushing against Jungkook’s chest when he only pulls you closer. “Jungkook, come on. People are gonna get suspicious if we’re gone too long.”

“You know what else will make people suspicious? You, coming out like that.” He gestures at the skirt hiked up around your waist, a slow smirk playing at his lips as he gives you a once-over, his gaze lingering on the wet sheen streaking your inner thighs. “As much as I’m enjoying the view.”

You swat his arm. “Stop that!”

Jungkook snickers and bends down to pick up your discarded panties, swinging them around his index finger. “Stop what?”

“Oh my god, Jungkook.”

Cackling, he returns the lacy undergarment to you, watching as you pull the material up your legs. You adjust your shirt while he disposes of his condom, and when you hop off the washing machine, he offers you a hand that you gratefully accept, gripping his arm as you steady yourself on shaky legs.

“You should leave first,” you tell him, smoothing out the wrinkles in his t-shirt and relishing the way his muscles twitch beneath your fingertips. “It’ll look weird if we leave together, and I need to pee, anyway.”

Jungkook grins and catches your wrists, swooping down to plant a quick kiss on your mouth. “As you wish,” he says, offering you a playful wink.

Then he’s straightening back up to his full height, checking his pockets and running a hand through his mussed hair. You watch as he walks over to the door, putting his ear against it for a few seconds before determining that the coast is clear and slipping out into the hallway. As the door clicks shut behind him, you hear someone—you’re pretty sure it’s a drunk Yugyeom—greet him with a resounding clap on the back. “Dude, where have you been all night? We’re getting our asses handed to us. Minho and Taemin are winning.”

“Sorry, man,” Jungkook half-shouts, and you realize that he’s making sure you can hear him. “Come on. Let’s go get that crown.”

Leaning against the door, you listen as their voices recede down the hallway. You count to five, and then to ten when your thumping heart refuses to slow. At nineteen, it finally calms down—enough that you feel comfortable leaving the laundry room and slipping into the bathroom to clean yourself up.

There’s a massive crowd gathered in the dining room by the time you rejoin the party, and you easily slip unnoticed into the mass of people eagerly watching the final round of the beer pong tournament. Jungkook stands at the far end of the table beside Yugyeom, poised to throw.

He catches your eye at the same time he releases the ball with a flick of his wrist, a knowing smirk settling on his face as triumphant cheers break out all around you.

///

It’s well after midnight by the time the party begins to wind down. Chaeyoung and Lisa are nowhere to be found, and several other girls are lingering near the front door saying their goodbyes before heading out. You find yourself seated on the couch between Jimin and Minho, watching as the latter helps clean up by hurling beer cans at the wastebasket on the other end of the room.

“Man, no wonder you suck at pong.” Jungkook walks into the room and plops down on an end table, a faded cardboard Burger King crown sitting rakishly on his head. “Want me to show you how the champs do it?”

Minho snorts. “Fuck off, man, you barely won that second game. Besides, we totally would’ve won if Taemin hadn’t spent half the time staring at Lisa’s tits.”

Taemin, who’s perched on a corner of the coffee table, raises his hands innocently. “Hey, don’t look at me. I scored most of the points that round.”

Minho huffs irritably and tosses another can at the wastebasket, cursing when it bounces off the rim. Taehyung wanders in and picks it up, throwing it back at Minho before squeezing into the miniscule amount of space between you and Jimin on the couch.

“Jesus, Tae,” you grunt, shifting to give him more room. The movement tilts you toward Minho, smushing you against his side, and he shoots you a playful grin and a wink.

“Cozy?”

“Cozy,” you confirm with a laugh.

“Good,” he says, freeing his arm and throwing it across the back of the couch to give you a little more space. “It’s nice having you around again, Noona.”

Jungkook’s head whirls around so quickly you fear he might have given himself whiplash. His stare zeroes in on Minho’s arm, eyes narrowing at the proximity, but the other boy remains blissfully unaware as he leans back against the couch cushions. Subtly, you lean forward, trying to put some distance between your bodies.

“It’s nice to be back,” you tell him. “It feels like I missed so much, but at the same time, it’s like nothing’s changed.”

“Choi’s aim sure hasn’t changed,” Yugyeom remarks from the doorway with a handful of empty beer bottles. “Still can’t land a shot, even after all these years.” Raising a bottle, he hefts it toward the wastebasket, smirking in satisfaction when it sinks perfectly inside the can.

“And not just with pong,” Taemin goads. “How did things go with Sana again?”

Minho rolls his eyes. “Like you’re one to talk. Besides, we’d all probably stand a better chance if Jeon over there would leave some girls for the rest of us.”

“You’re just jealous because Sana likes him better than she likes you,” Taehyung says with a snicker. “Yo, Jeon! Didn’t you guys make it to third base at Jackson’s party?”

Your stomach sinks as all eyes in the room turn to Jungkook, whose eyes go wide at the sudden attention. “What?”

“Sa. Na,” Taehyung repeats, emphasizing each syllable. “Hottest girl in our year? Third base at Jackson’s? Or are you having a hard time remembering since you wound up leaving with Jihyo?”

Yugyeom chortles as he plops down onto the carpeted floor. “Fuck, man, I forgot about that. Jesus. Just last year you were still shitting yourself at the thought of talking to a girl. Who knew you secretly had so much game?”

The room is beginning to feel stifling. Every breath you take feels like you’re inhaling ash, like a volcano that has lain dormant for ages has suddenly and without warning erupted inside your chest.

He’s playing you. And even worse, it seems that this is a game he’s played before—many times, if his friends are to be believed. Your stomach turns at the thought.

From his perch on the end table, Jungkook scoffs out a stilted, staccato note. “Right. I guess any nonzero number would seem high to you guys, huh?”

Loud jeers break out from the surrounding boys, and you do your best to melt back into the couch cushions. The way you’re squished between Taehyung and Minho makes it impossible for you to find any leverage to stand, so you settle for leaning your head back and staring at the stucco ceiling, willing your heartbeat to slow. Gradually, the noise of the party fades into the background, as do the voices of your brother and his friends. It’s only when Jimin pokes your shoulder, singsonging your name, that you break out of your trance.

“What? Huh?”

“The lake house,” Jimin says, looking at you as if you’re stupid. “You down?”

You can only blink at him, repeating the words back to him dumbly. “The lake house?”

Jimin raises a brow. “Yeah, the lake house. You know, our lake house? The one we drive up to every summer? Where we’ve been vacationing since we were like, five?”

You scowl when he pinches your cheek like you’re a child again. “Yeah, I got that. What about it?”

A snort. “Jeez, have you been listening at all, Noona? We’re talking about going up there for a few days.”

“Oh,” you croak. Unwillingly, you find yourself glancing over at Jungkook, your face growing warm when you see him staring right back, his expression careful and composed. “Right.”

“You should come, Noona,” Taemin pipes up. “You’re here for the next few weeks, right? Might as well have some fun.”

“I don’t know—” you begin, but Jimin cuts you off with a raised finger and another pinch to your cheek.

“You can’t just do homework the whole time you’re here,” he says. “Come with us, Noona. Live a little.”

“It’ll help get your mind off your internship, too,” Jungkook remarks softly. “You deserve a break. Just a few days won’t hurt.”

The fact that he remembers your internship woes shouldn’t make your heart lurch. You know it shouldn’t, but you can’t help the way your chest swells dangerously. “Fine,” you concede, reaching over Taehyung to pinch Jimin’s cheek in retaliation. “I’ll come, I guess.”

Taehyung and Taemin cheer, and Minho wraps his arm around your shoulder and squeezes you tight. “We should invite the other girls,” he points out, chuckling when you splutter for air in his ironclad grasp and try in vain to shake him off. “Don’t want it to be a total sausage fest.”

“Penis party is a much better term,” Taehyung interjects helpfully. “It’s alliterative.”

“You want alliterative? How about a cock carnival?” Jimin supplies, before doubling over in giggles.

You huff, exasperated at the ludicrous turn in conversation. “I can’t believe I’m coming with you guys.”

Minho snickers. “Title of your sex tape,” he jokes, punctuating it with a suggestive eyebrow waggle that sobers your brother up immediately. Jimin straightens up and fixes Minho with a glare, and despite your brother’s smaller stature, the older boy still shrinks back slightly.

“Dude, that’s my sister.”

Minho raises his hands apologetically. “Sorry, sorry. Automatic response. My bad.”

You just roll your eyes. “Are you twelve? God. I don’t know how the girls put up with any of you.”

Gradually, the night draws to a close. The number of people milling about dwindles, and Taehyung fiddles with his phone, letting out a satisfied hum when he finds the playlist he wants. The music transforms into something low and smooth, the soft R&B beat filling the room. You feel your eyes begin to droop.

“We should probably head home,” Jimin says, stretching his arms lazily overhead. “Noona here has to get her beauty sleep, and I don’t feel like carrying her back if she falls asleep here.”

“Shut up, Chim,” you mumble, but there’s no real bite in your tone. Jimin just chuckles and stands up, tugging on your hand until you’re on your feet as well. Jungkook straightens up too, and together, you bid farewell to the others and head for the door.

“{Name}, wait a second.”

You turn at the sound of Jisoo’s voice, tilting your head curiously as she lays a gentle hand on your arm and ushers you off to the side. “Yeah?”

Jisoo casts a furtive glance around the hallway, lowering her voice to a murmur. “I see what’s going on with Jungkook,” she whispers once she’s sure the coast is clear.

You stiffen, your mouth opening and closing a few times before you manage to find your voice again. “You… you saw us?”

She nods. “He’s been watching you all night—it’d honestly be harder not to notice. I just…” She sighs and looks around again, missing the relief that must be etched across your expression as her gaze lingers on where Jungkook and Jimin are loitering by the door. “…just be careful, okay? Jungkook—he’s changed this past year. I mean, I don’t know if all the rumors are true, but… he’s not the same guy you probably remember. He went out with Chae for a few weeks, did she tell you that?”

At your look of horror, she sighs. “Figures. She hides it well, but I know she’s still torn up about how he ended it after they slept together. So watch out for him, okay? He’s a heartbreaker. And he never, ever stays until the morning.”

Every word that leaves her mouth stings, but you don’t let that show on your face. Instead, you force a smile and pat her hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry about me,” you tell her. “I’m not going to get involved with him.”

You repeat that to yourself the whole way home, trying not to focus on the young man a few paces away and the way you can still taste him on your tongue.

[startanewdream]

Captain Potter

Summary: Lily Evans has a secret that the army cannot know and it doesn't help that her captain is trying to be her friend.

Note: So I was watching Mulan and it's Shirtless JP May and this got me into googling shirtless army man, so please enjoy this piece of very much self-indulgence set in another AU. Also, I have no knowledge of military ranks, so bear with me.

Read on AO3 or below:

‘Evans’, the captain calls, and Lily turns to him, slightly afraid as she always feels when she hears her name. Maybe this is the day her secret will be found, this is the day she will be expelled and will fall in disgrace —

But Captain Potter has one of his carefree trademark grins, none at all looking as if he is about to arrest her. He looks at ease, leaning against one of the training posts, arms crossed lazily, watching her with interest shining in his hazel eyes as if she is a puzzle he will understand someday.

Lily truly wishes he won't, so she avoids looking at him directly in the eyes.

‘Captain’, she answers at least, saluting. That seems to amuse him.

‘I have a name, you know’.

‘Hum’, she stops, unsure. Her interactions with the captain have been restricted — well, her interactions with everyone have been limited —, but she has watched him from afar.

He is young and yet he never tries to act bossy with all the other soldiers, never tries to impose himself. He may have a more affinity with three of the soldiers (his friends for a long time, as she gathered), but he tries to treat everyone fairly, encouraging and teaching all soldiers equally, from the weakest of them to the strongest, and it’s not hard for her to see why everyone is willing to follow him into battle. The only one that he hadn’t been able to reach some sort of relationship was with her.

Something that had fit Lily’s plans and worries very well.

‘Captain Potter?’, she tries.

‘I am someone besides a rank’, he suggests.

‘Mr. Potter’.

‘That would be my father. I am James ’, he says at least, as if she is unfamiliar with the name of the youngest captain of the army.

‘I know , but — it would not be proper —’

‘Liam’, he stops her and, just as anytime someone uses that name, Lily wants to look around searching for that person until she remembers her situation. ‘Can I call you Liam?’

‘I’d rather Evans’, she answers, grimacing, and when he looks dismayed, she adds quickly: ‘It’s how everyone calls me. Not… it’s more personal, really’.

‘Fine, Evans’. He grins again. It’s a beautiful smile, so open and inviting, that again Lily has no difficulty understanding the success he makes with all the other soldiers, why their unity is unanimous in praising him. There is something on him that draws people to him — her included. ‘Well, call me James. I can order you to if it will make it more proper’.

Lily lets out a laugh before she stops herself, biting her lips, worried. She shouldn’t laugh; though she can disguise her voice mildly well, her laugh is too thin, too sparkling. It’s not a man’s grave laugh.

Fortunately, the captain doesn’t seem to find anything amiss. He looks just… glad with her reaction.

‘So you are capable of laughing’, he notes teasingly. ‘I had my doubts, you know’.

‘There has never been an occasion, Cap — James ’.

He opens his mouth in an offended expression; it’s so dramatic that, again, she wants to laugh. ‘I beg your pardon? Yesterday, when someone — a very clever someone, I might add — pretended to be shot by an arrow? That was an occasion!’

‘Wasn’t that you?’, she asks, raising her eyebrows. It had been a long tense one minute in which one of the other soldiers, Sirius, had been sure he had shot by mistake the captain and his best friend before James had revealed himself alive, laughing hysterically and showing the fake arrow attached to his badge.

Sirius had punched him, all rank forgotten, but then he was laughing too and everyone thought it was hilarious.

‘It was fun ’.

‘It was terrifying’.

‘Oh, so you were terrified I’d died?’, he jokes, his grin now very smug. ‘And I thought you didn’t like me’.

Lily blushes, lowering her head and hoping he hadn’t noticed it. Truth was she had misjudged him on the first day, annoyed by the way he acted with that captain badge pinned on his chest. He came from a long family of militars, after all, and he was very young, no matter what his father would praise about his grades in military school, so she had truly believed he didn’t deserve to be a captain, that he had only got there for his family name.

In the last few weeks, though, she was forced to admit he was a good captain. He had the vision for it, good ideas, an efficient way of training everyone and, of course, he was a leader.

‘I have nothing against you, sir — James’.

‘I’m glad to know’, he says, sounding earnest. ‘I am worried about you, you know’.

‘Have I done something wrong?’, she asks, surprised, fear involving her again. Lily had taken care of doing all exercises, overworking herself, all to prove that that stupid rule that forbid women in the army did not make any sense. They needed everyone in the fight against Voldemort, after all, and she would not wait patiently, especially when people like her were one of his targets.

‘No, no, you’ve been perfect, really, no one dedicates as much as you’, he assures her. ‘But you don’t socialize. You stay quiet during dinner. You don’t participate in any of the games', he pauses, before adding again dramatically: 'You don’t laugh at my pranks!’

All of it is true. Lily has purposefully gotten away from everyone, afraid they would notice something different about her, though that quiet soldier, Remus, had tried to talk to her. She just feels she can't risk.

‘I do not think it’s time for pranks, James’, she answers, deciding the last point was probably the easiest.

He shakes his head. ‘We are at war, Evans. If we don’t laugh now, we may not laugh after’.

She supposes he is right. And even though he enjoys more pranks than she thinks it’s reasonable, she knows he worries too. More than once, when she is on guard duty, she has noticed the light of his tent is on very late in the night. James may look carefree with everyone else, but he has concerns about the war — and what lies in his shoulder.

‘Your work has been impeccable’, he adds quietly. ‘I just want you to get to know more of your colleagues and for them to know more about you’. Lily presses her lips, hoping her worry doesn’t show on her face. That was all she was trying to avoid. ‘You will need to count on them in the battlefield and they will need to know you have their backs too. And the only way to do that is if we trust each other. Can we do that?’

James is waiting for her answer, his eyes boring into hers firmly, and Lily can’t turn away now. In the light of the morning, with the sun shining on his face, his hazel eyes seem to glint in gold, the pupil barely visible. He has wrinkles on the side of his eyes, and she suddenly wishes they weren’t meeting in the army while she is pretending to be an introverted thin young man.

He seems the kind of guy she would like to meet in college, or to grow up together with, or even in a dancing club with her friends; they would talk and she could be then fully herself, could share with him her witty side and even help him in a prank or two. In that other life she would appreciate how nice and beautiful he is, with that black hair that’s always messy no matter how much he tries to comb, and those hazel eyes that were made for laughing, not to be worried for the war.

But that’s not her life and she is sure that if he ever finds out about her, he will hate her. Somehow, with how much she has learned to admire him in the last weeks, she fears his rejection more than she fears being expelled from the army.

Lily knows she would trust James Potter with her life, knows she would do her duty and die for him if it was needed, and yet she also knows she can't ever tell him  her secret.

So she does what she has been doing best ever since she joined the army.

‘We can trust each other’, she lies.

He beams. ‘Great, Evans! And I thought we could start sharing your mourning runs’. He raises one eyebrow when she looks surprised. ‘I’ve noticed you awake at dawn to run’.

‘I like to train’, she admits. ‘I am… thinner than the others, so I am trying to get fitter’.

‘You look a lot better’, he compliments, touching her arm, where her biceps have been evolving nicely. It’s a pat, a soft brush, and yet it sends shivers down Lily’s spine; his hand is warm . ‘Mind if I join you?’

She hesitates just a little. ‘I will stay quiet’, she warns him. ‘I like to think while I run’.

‘Works for me. And if you want to share a thought or another, well, I’m here, Evans’.

He winks at her, again so friendly that she turns her eyes away, wishing she could tell him the truth. But she can’t, so she presses her lips, ties the ribbon around her hair so the bun stays in place, and kneels to make sure her shoes are tied. Then she raises and her heart stops for a full second.

James has taken out his shirt. She knows he is fit — there is no way he can’t be with all the years of training he had — and she has seen before shirtless, but only when she was far away in the line, hoping to get unnoticed as she trained the movements.

Now, it’s only him, his tanned skin glistening under the morning sun, a god coming out of her dreams. She is staring and she knows it, but there is no way she can avoid it; weeks at the army have made her lost a lot of discomfourt around men's body, but this... This doesn't seem fair.

She watches the muscles in his arms, his biceps far more evident than hers will ever be, and it suddenly occurs to Lily that she would like very much to feel them around her, involving her, holding her. There would be only benefits in hugging him, she realizes, as her eyes move to his torso, enjoying the firmness of his chest and the muscles in his abdomen, a six pack that seems drawn perfectly. In his arms, she would glide her hand through his chest, would place a kiss over his heart and then she would raise her head and they would be so close —

And then James stretches his arms, raising them above his head, and she notices the hair on his torso, a few patches near his chest that shine with a few drops of sweat she wouldn’t mind drying, and then the darked patch over his abdomen, in a path that goes on vanishing inside…

When she finds herself staring at his pants, Lily decides she has crossed more limits that it's reasonable.

She turns, all her concentration in avoiding glancing at him again, though she feels it's fruitless. The sight of him seems to be recorded in her mind. He will appear on her dream, she is sure of it.

‘Everything all right, Evans?’, he asks, right behind her, and she jumps. 'You look red'.

Lily knows it; her face is hot, burning even before she has started to run, and she won’t fool herself pretending she doesn’t know the reason.

‘I'm fine, let’s go’, she answers quickly, heart racing in her chest. This was a horrible idea; mourning runs with her very gorgeous hot captain will do no good for her keeping her secret.

She sprints without warning, but he catches up with her easily. She keeps her eyes ahead. Don't look, don't stare, don't ogle.

‘There is something special about you, Evans’, he declares, the run not seeming to disturb his breathing. ‘I will find out one day’.

[deadbiwrites]

hey, for the ask thing, can you do #9 under random: “You come here often?” “Well, I work here. So I think I’d have to say ‘yes’.”

This one was so fun!!

--

Kara doesn’t drink, usually.

It’s not like, a thing, that she doesn’t drink. Some sort of moral or religious blah blah whatever, it’s just that she… doesn’t.

So when she’s dragged out to the bar for Nia’s 21st birthday, she expects it to be more of the same- her friends will get drunk, Brainy will dominate at the trivia game that’ll inevitably be crawling across a screen at the bar, Nia will flirt with Brainy, Alex will stare and sigh at Sam all night, James and Mike will inevitably get at each other’s throats (how they manage to play on the same team without killing each other, Kara will never know), Mike will flirt with her and be hurt when she shoots him down, James will pull out his camera and take candids that Alex will doubtlessly demand to see and then delete immediately, and Kara will eventually wrangle them all into her minivan and drive them back to campus.

A typical Thirsty Thursday with her closest friends (and also Mike, for some reason).

Except that tonight, instead of Al’s, the dive they usually flock to, they’re at some martini bar downtown. And though the reasoning makes sense (Nia can’t really openly celebrate her 21st at the bar she’s been frequenting for the past 2 years with a fake ID), and it is her birthday and she wants to go someplace-

“Swanky,” Alex murmurs as Sam lets out a low whistle behind them.

This is barely a bar, it more closely resembles a set from a 30’s noir movie, with the large chandeliers dripping crystal overhead and the rich, polished wooden floor underfoot. For crying out loud, there’s a live jazz band- not a quartet, a full band- across what is clearly a dance floor, and the waiters and waitresses are all dressed in vests and ties (and not the cheap kind Kara had to wear for the week she worked at the catering company).

In short, it’s gorgeous, and glamorous, and she’s infinitely glad she’d asked Nia what she should wear because her usual jeans-and-a-sweater combo surely wouldn’t fly here, but the suit she wore to her cousin’s wedding this past summer definitely does.

They’re greeted by a friendly but slightly harangued-looking hostess, who quickly ushers their group to a large booth in the corner. Each of them peruses the drink menu, and quickly realize that they have no idea what any of the cocktails listed actually are.

"Yeah, great, this is- I love doing a Google search to get drunk," Alex grumbles sarcastically as she scrolls through her phone, pulling a face at something or other. "How many of these have absinthe in them? Jesus."

Kara laughs. "What, no green fairies for you tonight?"

"It was one time!"

"Aw, we still like you even though you're afraid of the mean, scary alcohol," Sam coos at Alex, smile tinged with an edge of teasing and Alex melts like so much wax before a flame.

Ridiculous. 

"Make out already," Nia jeers. When they both flip her off she turns to Kara, seemingly confused. "That was a legitimate suggestion, though?"

"I know. One day," Kara hums, throwing her arm around Nia’s shoulder and pulling her into a half-hug.

Their waiter appears, smooth and charming and managing to get Winn firmly under his spell in a matter of seconds. But in Winn's defense, he has a perfect smile, great hair, and a British accent.

Poor boy never stood a chance against all that. They each place their orders for a fancy drink, and when the waiter, Jack, turns his attention to Kara, Alex interrupts with, "She wants a Potion D'Amour."

"Oh, a love potion," he muses, smiling at Kara. His eyes catch on something and his smile widens. "I know just the lady to make it for you. Back in a tick."

And he's off before Kara can protest. Resigned, she turns to her sister. "Why?"

Alex rolls her eyes fondly. "Just take a sip. If you don't like it, one of us will finish it for you.”

“Fine, fine.”

--

So, as it turns out, Kara likes the love potion. A lot.

“It tastes like berries,” Kara marvels.

“We know, Kara, you told us when you were drinking the last one,” Alex chuckles.

“And the one before that,” Nia adds.

“You guys are so nice. I love you all so much.”

“Well at least she’s a happy drunk,” James chuckles.

“‘m not drunk,” Kara insists. “‘m always happy, ya butts.”

“Sure Kar, and the sky is red.”

Kara frowns as her friends all laugh. “Rude. Who wants another one?”

They all raise a hand, and Kara moves off in the general direction of the bar.

Or, well, she does her best.

“Hey there! Did you need something, luv?”

It’s Jack-the-waiter, looking at her with some bemusement.

“Yeah! Hi, sorry. Um, they all want more drinks, and I just, um…”

“Needed a break?”

She slumps in relief. “Yeah. Is that bad? Like, I love them and all, but I think I’m kinda drunk and they’re… a lot.”

Jack chuckles. “Trust me, I understand. If you want a minute of quiet, there’s a stool on the end of the bar that no one ever sits in. Got your name on it.”

“Thanks! You’re a very good waiter. Hey, d’you have any drink recommendations? Maybe one a little, um… lighter?”

“‘Course I do luv. Really fancy, too. C’mere, I’ll tell ya,” Jack says, motioning her close. When Kara is a few inches away, he tells her the secret. “It’s called ‘coffee’.”

Kara laughs as he winks and moves away to another table. She spots the empty barstool he’d mentioned and ambles over, dropping into it with a sigh. From here, she has a view of approximately nothing, given its location behind a pillar, and she leans back against the wall, the cool wood paneling chilly even through her jacket and shirt. 

“Long night?”

Kara’s eyes flutter open (when did they close? Maybe she is drunk…) and across from her is quite probably the most beautiful person she’s ever seen in her life.

“Wow.”

The girl smirks, quirking a brow upward. “You okay there?”

“Yeah. I um, I think I just had too many love potions.”

“Oh, so it was you ordering those,” the pretty, pretty girl drawls. “They’re a pain in the ass to make, you know. Mostly the garnish, but still, I’m tempted to be annoyed with you, for being so high-maintenance.”

“Oh, Jack said he knew the girl for the job!” Kara says. “They were really good, I usually don’t even drink, but those were great.”

“Well well, keep talking, I thrive on flattery,” the girl jokes. She extends a hand. “Lena.”

“Kara, Kara Danvers. Wow, your hands are big.”

Lena barks a delighted laugh. “You have all the subtlety of a hand grenade, Kara Danvers.”

Kara flushes. “Oh, that’s- wow, sorry.”

“You’re fine. Like I said, I thrive on flattery,” Lena says, throwing her a very cute two-eyed wink. She turns suddenly, fixing a polite, professional smile on her face. “Good evening, sir. What can I get for you?”

“Another round for my friends. And your number, gorgeous.”

Mike.

Lena remains polite, face impassive even as Kara hastily ducks out of sight under the bar. “What drinks did you and your friends have?”

“I dunno, fancy stuff. The waiter guy probably knows- my friend was supposed to come get us another round, but she probably bailed.”

“Oh yeah? Not much of a partier?” Lena asks, eyes darting to (hidden) Kara.

“Nah. Don’t get me wrong, Kara can be cool, but she’s a little… uptight. Needs to relax every once in a while.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So what’s your story, beautiful? You come here often?”

There’s a beat of silence before Lena drawls, “Well I work here, so… I’d have to say yes…”

Kara claps a hand over her mouth to muffle the laugh she can’t keep inside.

This obviously throws Mike off whatever game he thinks he has. “Oh, that- right. Um. That was a joke.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll ask your waiter what your order was- do you know who he is?”

“Um… he has a beard?”

“Jack, his name is Jack,” Kara mutters under her breath.

“Right. I’ll ask him. Did you need anything else?”

“No, thanks.”

There’s an extended silence before Lena says, “You can come up for air now, Kara Danvers.” 

Kara peeks over the edge of the bar, flushing again when Lena snickers at her.

“Good friend of yours?”

“No. He’s- I don’t even know why he’s here? Like one day we all hated him and then the next he was always around. Nia doesn’t even like him, and it’s her birthday.”

“Really? Good that she doesn’t- seems like a douche.”

Kara barks out a laugh, smothering in quickly and grinning behind her palm as Lena grins slyly over at her without turning her head. “He is a douche. He always asks me out even though I’ve told him no, like, a million times.”

Lena frowns at this, turning her attention fully to Kara. “Does he?”

“Yeah. My sister hates his guts, and so does our friend James, but somehow he just… sticks around.” Kara shrugs. “He’s pretty harmless, just really annoying.”

Lena hums, gaze narrowed. “He’s not worth your politeness, Kara.”

“Eh. Besides, I’m kinda doing the same thing to you, right? Just like, demanding all your attention?”

Lena bobbles her head side to side. “I’d say it’s a bit different.”

“Why, because I’m drunk?” Kara laughs. “‘m sorry about that, by the way.”

“First off, I don’t think you’re all that drunk,” Lena confides, leaning over the bar so . “Those drinks really aren’t all that strong. And secondly, there’s a difference because I am actually enjoying your attention, Kara Danvers.”

“Oh. Oh, okay. Cool,” Kara mutters to herself.

Lena smirks. “So, Kara Danvers- even though I already know the answer to this-, do you come here often?”

“Um, no. But I think I might start…”

Lena’s sly grin morphs into a broad smile, dimpling her cheeks and making her eyes shine in the low bar light. “Good.”

[lizzy-williams]

𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐎𝐮𝐭𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞

🎄Warnings: Smut, threesome, alcohol, drug use, language, mature themes, a tiny bit of dubcon but not much, mega age gap.

🎄Masterlist

🎄Summary: After one of Colson Baker’s infamous adult Christmas parties, you decide to stay a little longer than everyone else and end up getting snowed in. One drink after another, things get interesting with one of LA’s hottest couples. 

🎄Theme: Jawbreaker, Machine Gun Kelly

🎄A/N: Sorry I had to sin during the season of your birthday, Jesus. (No I’m not.)

“And that’s how we met.”

Megan had finished her story, the people that remained at the party all gathered around, sharing spiked eggnog in cozy sweaters and blankets, swapping stories. 

Colson held her close, and secretly, [ y / n ]’s heart would clench every time she would see them together. Because the fact of the matter was, was that she had fallen. For both of them.

But she knew that nothing would ever come of it. Because all you were to them was Rook’s 18 year old, alcohol-drinking, weed smoking cousin. A face that they would see everywhere, but never cared to meet or start a conversation with. Her infatuation with the two of them only grew, and she had always felt guilty for it. 

Rightfully so, because she was crushing on two people that were taken by each other. If that wasn’t guilt inducing, nothing else was. 

But nonetheless, she sat and listened, hanging on to every word they spoke, and she swore she could feel her heart skip a beat whenever one of them, or both of them, would look at her as they spoke. 

After a few more stories, the guest numbers started to dwindle. Soon there were only 8 people left, the rest of the party-goers not wanting to stick around and help clean up. 

Slim, Kells, Megan, Rook, Dub, Mod, Travis, and [ y / n ] were the only ones who were left, and it seemed as if Travis and [ y / n ] were the only ones sober enough to even start cleaning up. 

Everyone was in the living room, listening to music and doing their own thing, Kells, Rook, Slim, and Mod starting a game of pool while Megan hung on Kells like an ornament does a Christmas tree, cheering him on and helping him out, Mr. Baker drunk as all hell. 

When [ y / n ] and Travis were done cleaning up, Mod had already left, Rook and Slim already stumbling to their rooms, most likely passed the fuck out by now. [ y / n ] had to say, her cousin knew how to hold his liquor. How could he not with Colson as a friend?

Travis soon spoke up, “I think I’m gonna head out, there’s supposed to be a pretty bad snow storm. Dunno if you wanna get caught in that, [ y / n ].”

She gave a chaste nod in response, giving him a hug and wishing him farewell, before slipping into the kitchen. From the counter she stood at, she could hear the couple saying their goodbye to Travis, soon hearing the front door open and close, a chilly breeze sweeping through the house. 

[ y / n ] had already poured herself a drink, and usually she was a cocktail kinda girl. But after having to spend the whole night watching Colson and Megan literally being on top of each other, she needed something stronger. 

“Scotch on the rocks, huh?” 

[ y / n ]’s eyes flickered up, only to be met with Megan’s eyes as she leaned on the counter, looking at [ y / n ]’s drink as the young girl put the bottle of alcohol back into a cupboard. 

She flashed a friendly smile as she made her way back, “Yeah, just thought it would be nice to change it up a little bit.”

“I have to say that your cocktails are pretty good though,” Megan slumped in her position, looking at her with puppy-dog eyes, (obviously drunk), and [ y / n ] already knew what it meant. 

A Sex on the Beach was her favorite, and she knew by the compliment, she wanted the young woman to make one for her, and [ y / n ] let out a sigh, and Megan gave a pouty face in response. But [ y / n ] could never say no to her. 

Soon enough, she found herself with the needed ingredients in front of her, an orange-hued cocktail glass to add a little... pazazz if you will. 

Megan looked on in intoxicated wonder, watching as the other woman poured the cocktail, without even measuring anything. And after [ y / n ] garnished it with a cherry. 

Megan let out a sigh as she felt Colson slip up behind her, his arms around her waist, causing [ y / n ] to look up, looking right back down at the counter when she noticed the display of affection that just made her nauseous. It’s not that she found it gross. But more-so wishing that she was in both positions. 

“Ah, thanks for the drink,” Colson smirked, taking advantage of the whisky that sat there on the counter. 

[ y / n ] wanted to make a sound of protest, but when she caught sight of his fingers wrapped around the glass, the noise stopped half-way up her throat. 

God, his fingers are so sexy, fuck, I wonder with they could reach my cervix when he does it up to the knuckles- Wait, stop, [ y / n ], you’re being weird, stop. 

.”You know, you somehow even make a whiskey on the rocks somehow taste better. Dunno how you do it, you can’t even drink yet,” Colson praised, [ y / n ] wincing at the fact that he mentioned her age. 

It was true, she was the baby of the group. At only age 18, the boys were very protective of her, and it always made her self conscious, alway being treated like a baby. She liked to think of herself as a girl who’s mind was beyond her years, hating that she was born at the wrong time. 

She mumbled out a quick ‘thanks’ before sliding Ms. Fox her drink, a smile spreading across her face as she got giddy, squealing as she took a sip, a face of almost pleasure crossing her expression. 

“Holy shit, [ y / n ]. You’re the fucking best, fuck,” she admired, taking a long sip this time, Colson making childish grabby hands at the drink, the woman making a big show of presenting it to him, which of course included him rubbing her ass right against hit groin, making him let out a low groan, his head dropping in her neck. 

“You know, [ y / n ], we would love it if you stayed the night. Besides, there’s a really bad storm, we wouldn’t want you out on the road,” looking at Colson, nudging him as queue to agree. 

All she got was a nod. 

“Thanks, I think I’ll just crash on the couch or something,” [ y / n ]’s voice was barely audible, the pda in front of her making her slightly uncomfortable. 

“Nahhhh, you d-don’t need to, [ y / n / n ],” Colson was now slurring, “You can just sleep in our bed,”

[ y / n ] let out a small laugh, amused by his drunk offer. But after a few serious looks being thrown in her direction, she realized they were serious.

“Oh, y-you mean it, I couldn’t possibly-”

“Come oooon,” Megan wiggled out of Cols’ grasp, walking to the other side of the counter, grabbing [ y / n ]’s hands and guiding her away, dragging her up the stairs, Colson slowly finding his way behind them. 

When they finally made it to the master bedroom, Megan looked at [ y / n ] with a smirk, “Come on, you can’t sleep in that, you can borrow some of my things, just for tonight.”

“Are you sure, that’s not necessary, I-”

Megan shushed her, “Shh, it’s fine, it’s the least I can to. Besides, it’s Christmas Eve, ‘tis the season of giving,”

She suddenly pulled her in the bathroom, the closet connected in the back, but not before Colson suggested he slipped in the bathroom with them. [ y / n ] both scoffed and rolled their eyes, closing the door behind them. 

“Strip,” Megan said. 

[ y / n ] blinked, “h-huh?” 

“For the clothes, silly, you aren’t gonna put it over your clothes,”

Megan patted to the closet, rustling around, soon coming out with a shirt and some shorts.

“Here, go ahead ‘n get dressed,”

“What, like right here?” [ y / n ] asked, anxiety obviously shooting up. 

Megan let her hands rub over [ y / n ]’s shoulders, “Don’t sweat it, we’re both girls, we all have the same parts,”

[ y / n ] nodded shyly, taking off her dress-up shirt, then slipping off her pants, left in nothing but a bra and panties on. Megan then spoke up from behind her, making eye contact with [ y / n ] in the mirror, “You have a really beautiful body,”

[ y / n ] dismissed it as a drunk comment, and was about to slip the donated shirt on, but Megan stopped her before a second arm slipped into it. 

“Aren’t you going to take off your bra? Heard it can cause bad stuff for your chest. Besides, that bra is too pretty to ruin.”

She nodded slowly, now avoiding Megan’s prying eyes, getting behind her and unclasping her bra for her. Megan watched it was it dropped, starring at her breasts. 

The young woman cleared her throat, trying to get her tempting thoughts out of her head, slipping the rest of the clothes on, and was about to walk out of the door, before Megan once again stopped her.

“Hey,” she started, “You’re beautiful,” Megan then leaned over, leaving a soft kiss on [ y / n ]’s forehead, and if she wasn't red before, she was definitely red now. 

It was all so random. Coming out of nowhere.

Opening the door, [ y / n ] tried her hardest to forget what just happened, but it was all she could think about.

Colson already seemed like he was on the brink of sleep, the light from the TV being the only thing illuminating the room. But when his attention focused on the two women walking towards him, getting ready to slip into bed with him, he was wide awake. 

[ y / n ] paused for a second, stopping in her tracks, she wasn’t really sure what she was supposed to do next, let alone what she was about to do. What the fuck even was this? A drunken idea that will be discarded in the morning, the two of them dismissing it because they were too drunk to remember?

Or did this mean something? Was this a sign? What if they both-

“Come on, [ y / n ], I don’t bite, Colson smiled, patting the spot right next to him, Megan nodding in confirmation.

“Y-Yeah, sure, okay,” her words came out faster than anticipated, making her sound like she was babbling like a toddler. 

Before she could embarrass herself anymore than she already did, she did as she was told, [ y / n ] slipping into the covers as she made room for Megan on the king-sized bed. 

But when Colson pulled her in, her head now on his chest, she could feel her heart beating a million miles a minute. And at first, she thought that Megan would disapprove. This was her boyfriend we were talking about. 

But when she hopped into bed, she objected for a different reason than expected. 

“Hey, don’t hog her, I want some cuddles too,” she whined, latching onto [ y / n ] by wrapping her arms around her waist and nuzzling her face in the back of the girl’s neck.

But Megan could sense [ y / n ]’s heartbeat, and she almost smirked to herself because she was part of the reason. 

“Come on, [ y / n ], it’s just us,” she soothed, hoping it would help with nerves. 

Colson himself gave a small squeeze of reassurance, then reaching over to his bedside table and pulling out a joint, lighting it. 

“You want first hit?” he passed it to [ y / n ] and she nodded. If anything were to calm her down, it would be this. At least relieve some tension. 

Soon enough, the joint was burned up to the filter, the room smelling like weed as the three of them relaxed, watching the movie that was on the screen. Colson was now sobered up a little bit. But he wouldn’t dare change the situation that he was in. Not for a hundred bucks. Not even for a million. 

[ y / n ] was nuzzled deeply into his chest now, Megan playing with her hair as she gave a look to Colson. 

As soon as the movie ended, Colson looked over to [ y / n ] who was sleeping peacefully, she soft breaths enough to make the couple fall asleep. Megan let out a small ‘aw’ before gently kissing her forehead just like she did in the bathroom. 

“Goodnight [ y / n ],”

Colson imitated her action, doing the same as she whispered Megan’s exact message, before pretending to fall asleep. 

But both of them weren’t sleeping. They were just hoping that the other one wasn’t going to find out about what they were about to do. They couldn’t resist. [ y / n ] was right there, and the both of them had a connection to the girl, so how could they not?

Colson made the first move. He let his free hand reach over his body, letting his hand drift gently over her thighs, making her shift just the slightest in her sleep. Soon enough it reached her calfs, then right where he wanted it, her covered clit his next target, pressing lightly on it, knowing the pressure would get to her, maybe even enough to wake her up. 

But she was sleeping like a rock, and all he was getting was whimpers and mutters of profanity in her sleep. 

It wasn’t until he felt another hand down there that he stopped and froze in his tracks. He suddenly looked over and whisper yelled.

“Megan??” 

She had the same response, “Colson??”

They both had the same goal. But it was somewhat relieving. Because the other couldn’t blame the feelings they had for the 18 year old. And Megan thought that she was the only one who had the sinful thought of touching her and making her make sultry noises in her sleep, feeling the gratification that she, in fact, made them happen. 

But now things changed. Now she didn’t feel so indifferent about her displays of affection for the girl, and neither did Colson. Because there were always the intentional touches every now and again. Always having the excuse to reach over [ y / n ], his hand touching her lower waist, which also made her turn a shade of dark pink, goosebumps erupting in it’s wake.

Now things had changed. 

Megan switched on the lamp on her side, giving a knowing look to Colson, knowing what they wanted to do next. They just prayed that [ y / n ] would want to do it too. 

Megan leaned over, leaving kisses across [ y / n ]’s neck as she let her hands slip up her shirt, dragging her nails across her stomach. Once Colson saw that [ y / n ]’s eyes were fluttering open, he suddenly grabbed her, making her squeak, pulling her into his lap as the kissed her on her lips. 

It may have been the sleepy haze, or maybe the weed, but [ y / n ] found herself kissing back as he held her close, now shifting herself to straddle his waist, their tongues poking and playing with each other while Megan let out a huff of disapproval, for Colson, once again hogging the girl. 

Megan ended up leaning up to her neck once again, her hands drifting everywhere she pleased, [ y / n ] letting out soft noises. 

Suddenly, Colson flipped her on the bed, before stripping her almost completely, except for her shirt. 

“That’s my shirt, you know,” he smirked, knowing Megan might have done that on purpose. 

This time, Megan’s hand sliding farther up, touching her beasts, lifting up the shirt just above them, bringing her mouth to the nipples, sucking them. Colson slipped his clothes off, trying to match the girl in front of him, Megan soon following suit, deciding to take off Colson’s shirt, leaving [ y / n ] completely in the nude. 

Their hands were all over her, making her squirm, getting self conscious. She was in front of the two most beautiful people she knew, and somehow they wanted her, my some miracle. But yet, she was relived, because she didn’t need to hide such dangerous feelings. Here, she thought her thoughts would split the couple apart. But what was about to happen was going to strengthen their bond for all three of them. 

Colson waisted no time getting between [ y / n ] legs, making contact with her clit as she let out a whimper. So many times, she had pictured this. Every time she touched herself, she pictured him doing it and not her hand, and it was finally happening. 

[ y / n ] then decided to make a daring move, reaching her hand down to Megan’s clit, rubbing soft circles around the bud, making her feel perfect. Sure, Colson could make her cum. But [ y / n ] was a woman. She knew what a woman’s body wants. What a woman’s body needs, and soon enough, the two women were about to fall off the edge. 

And they did, and Colson didn’t know which one to focus his attention on. It was beautiful to watch both of the women who were closest to him reach a state of nirvana. Especially at the same time. 

He then kissed up [ y / n ]’s stomach as she was just then coming down to Earth, then hovering over her, kissing her passionately. She could taste herself on his tongue, and it was the hottest thing she thought she could experience that night. 

But Christ, was she wrong. 

“Let me have a taste, Cols,” Megan muttered, Colson eagerly complying, slipping his hand down to [ y / n ]’s clit to rub soft circles as he kissed his girlfriend, the afterglow of her orgasm somehow making her more beautiful. 

[ y / n ] turned her head, muffling her moans against the crook of Megan’s neck, her heavy breaths making the older woman squirm at the warm sensation. 

When the couple broke the kiss, Colson suddenly positioning himself at [ y / n ]’s entrance, kissing her neck, sucking dark marks all over her soft spots. But a wave of anxiety crashed over her as she pushed him back, stopping both him and Megan in their tracks, automatically concerned. 

“W-Wait, I’ve never... I haven’t-” she struggled to get her words out, Colson filling in the blanks. 

“You’re a virgin?” Megan suddenly cut in. 

“How are you even related to Rook- Ow-” Colson got a smack on the chest from Megan, giving him a look. 

“What better way to loose your virginity than to share it with more than one person?” Megan suggested. 

“I just... can you hold my hand?” she asked Megan like a child, and she automatically obliged, intertwining their fingers and placing a soft kiss on her nose. 

“Anything for you.”

“Are you okay to keep going?” Colson asked sensitively, and [ y / n ] gave a small nod before taking a deep but shaky breath. 

As she let a breath out, he began to insert the tip, making [ y / n ] gasp, a new discomfort in her cunt she had never felt before. And fuck he was big. But if there was one thing that was known about [ y / n ], it was that she wasn’t a quitter. She had made it this far. 

After a few seconds of whispered praises from the both of them, [ y / n ] bit down on her lip as she began to push in farther, the girl squeezing Megan’s hand like it was the last thing she would ever do. 

Soon enough, we was bottomed out inside her, giving her time to adjust, Colson kissing her collarbone as Megan kissed her jaw. After several minutes of cock-warming, [ y / n ] saw it fit to move, almost letting out a sigh of relief. 

Slowly, he started to move, trying his best to be as gentle as possible. Soon he began to go faster, and the ache in [ y / n ]’s core began to dissolve into pleasure as she felt every ridge and every vein as be slipped in and out of her. 

“Holy fuck, you’re so fucking tight, shit,” he cursed, beginning to go faster and faster, [ y / n ] feeling the coil inside her tighten. 

“m’gonna cum, can I please cum?” she asked desperately, Megan bringing their intertwined hands up to her lips, giving [ y / n ]’s hand a kiss.

“Of course you can, sweet girl, unravel on his cock,” her words leaving Colson speechless, her fingers slipping down to her clit, [ y / n ] letting out a yelp of pleasure. 

Soon enough, the coil inside her snapping like a twig as a mind-numbing orgasm, making her black out, passing out in pure euphoria, Colson pulling out and Megan suddenly lurching forward, her mouth on his tip, taking his cum in her mouth, swallowing everything he gave him. 

Tucking her under the covers, Colson smirked, letting it sink in that he was his first time, almost feeling as if she saved herself for this exact moment. 

And as [ y / n ]  finally slipped into peaceful sleep, Colson then went to his girlfriend, getting ready to give her a perfectly earned orgasm.

[eternally-writing]

chain reaction 02 | jjk

genre: fluff and angst 

rating: PG 

pairing: Jungkook x reader

theme: college!au , enemies to lovers, series 

word count: 4.6k

warnings: light swearing

synopsis: A semester with your mortal enemy, Jeon Jungkook, as your lab partner was bound to be an experience to remember. 

banner by me!

read part 1 here! 

 If you want to be tagged in future parts, send me an ask! 

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

When you had imagined what Jeon Jungkook’s apartment would look like, you had definitely thought it would look something like an evil lair (except messy, because Jungkook definitely struck you as the messy type). 

However, upon stepping into his surprisingly well-finished apartment, you found the exact opposite case. Before this, you had planned to make a ton of jokes based on whatever you would find in Jungkook’s apartment. And the truth was, you still could. 

Jeon Jungkook was an absolute neat freak. You watched the way he subtly shuddered as a fleck of dirt from your shoes travelled off of his doormat and you took note of how his kitchen counter was so clean you could probably eat directly off of it (which was especially rare from someone in college). If he had a roommate, there was no trace of him right now, as the apartment pretty much looked like a showhome.

“I didn’t know you were such a clean freak, Jeon,” you said with a smirk.

For the first time, you saw Jeon Jungkook look the slightest bit timid. 

“I like to keep things tidy, I guess,” he said while rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand. 

He gestured for you to enter his quaint but somehow spacious living room as he sped to the kitchen to grab you a glass of water (he may not like you, but he’d be damned by his mother if she found out he let a guest into his place without giving them a beverage).

You had a very clear game plan when it came to entering Jeon Jungkook’s apartment: Enter. Talk about the project (and nothing else). Grab the chemistry notes from the class you missed on Monday. Leave. 

It definitely seemed like an easy peasy 4 step plan  -  except that all seemed to flow out the window once you saw the photo Jungkook kept on his coffee table. From what you could decipher, it looked like a high school aged Jungkook in a music studio, right in front of the mic, with some of his friends around him. You had never seen Jungkook smile as big as he was in that picture, and it even managed to pull at your heartstrings.

Before you could open your mouth to ask about it, Jungkook had already come over to you and slammed the picture to be face down on the table, leaving smiley high school Jungkook out of sight. 

“An invitation into my apartment isn’t an invitation into my private life, Y/N. Don’t get it twisted.” he said coldly, dropping the glass of water hashly onto a coaster by the picture frame. 

To be fair, you kind of deserved that (and looking into Jungkook’s personal life definitely wasn’t part of your 4 step plan to seeing him today), but he didn’t have to be that mean.  As a peace offering you moved as far away from the photo frame as you could.

“Let’s just get this over with, Jeon. I have a pilates class in an hour on the other side of campus.”

Now Jungkook couldn't pass up that opportunity to make a joke. 

“Pilates, mmm.”  He let out an overexaggerated moan to make his point. 

“ Think you can slip my number to the hot girls there Y/N,” said Jungkook with a smirk. 

“In your dreams Jeon. You’re lucky if any girls will still want your number if you fail organic chemistry, which is what you’re going to do if we don’t work on this project.”

“I think you’re forgetting Y/N.” he said as he bent down, bringing his lips to your ear - “if I go down I’m taking you with me sunshine”. 

Ignoring how his close proximity to you was making your heart race (it was probably due to anger, right??), you jumped away from him and pulled out your macbook.

“Our group contract is due tomorrow so let’s just finish that up and then I’ll be out of your hair okay?” you said with an air of desperation and potentially sexual frustration.

For the most part, you and Jungkook worked in silence besides the occasional sound of you typing or clearing your throat. Looking at the live google doc in front of you and the progress you both were making, you were starting to think that working with Jungkook might not be the worst thing in the world. 

Jeon Jungkook and Y/N L/N : CHEM 251 LAB PRESENTATION CONTRACT

Topic - Green Chemistry 

1. Answer all communication from your partner (emails, messages) within 24 hours

2. Complete all portions of assignments at least 1 day before it is due. 

3. Any changes to your availability should be communicated to your partner. 

4. Y/N will handle the background literature and introduction of the presentation. 

5. Jungkook will look for future applications of Green Chemistry and direct applications of course material in the field of Green Chemistry. 

6. Don’t fall in love with your partner. 

As soon as you saw Jungkook type the last point on the document, you glared at him beside you on the couch. 

“Seriously Jeon? I forgot you have the mindset of a 13 year old boy,” you muttered as he looked at you cockily. 

You took a deep breath as your internal monologue started to run: 

Okay, Y/N. you’re not here to let Jeon Jungkook mess with you. 3 strikes and you’re out of here - there’s no reason to need to keep up with his bullshit (especially since at least the first part of your project was over).

Jungkook had then had to add more rules to your group contract. 

7. Y/N will give out Jungkook’s number to any hot girl at her pilates class. 

You groaned and hastily deleted off the document. 

That was strike 1 for Jungkook. 3 strikes and he’s out. 

Jungkook was still relentless in his attacks. 

“Seriously though Y/N, do you really not think I’m attractive at all? You really don’t want a piece of this?,” he said as he wiggled his eyebrows and gestured to his body all too suggestively. 

“Cut it out Jeon, I’m not dealing with your shit today,” you hissed, your eyes shooting metaphorical lasers into Jungkook. 

Strike 2: He’s getting close. 

“C’mon Y/N, what’s the chance that you’ll ever be able to bag someone as hot as me. I mean, look at me and look at you!”

Strike 3: you were DONE  with Jeon Jungkook today.

Not even stopping to put on your shoes fully, you took one last glance back at him before you walked out the door. 

“Fuck you, Jeon Jungkook.”

The glass of water he got you sat untouched on his coffee table, drops of water spilling onto the photo frame beside it due to his apartment shaking from you slamming his door.

Mirroring the new droplets on his coffee table, you found tears starting to drop across your face as well. 

--♡--

Even though you loved your chemistry lecture, you’re not sure why chemistry labs had such a bad vibe to you. The most obvious explanation for this would be having Jeon Jungkook as a lab partner (especially after your last meeting, the situation speaks for itself). But what could be is probably at least part of the reason is because of what happened in your first year 8AM chem lab. After getting through a grueling 3 hour titration (that you messed up and got no results for in the end), you walked back to your dorm to find your (now ex) boyfriend Jimin in bed with your roommate, Soomi. 

Needless to stay you left that day with one less friend, no boyfriend (and you had also gotten 16/30 on that lab… yikes), so chemistry labs did leave a little bit of a bad taste in your mouth. 

It had been months since that incident, but even after getting a new lease and cutting any ties you remotely had to Jimin, you still carried the insecurity that Jimin instilled in you by cheating on you with someone who you thought of as a sister. 

You had yet to run into Jimin against post-breakup, and had managed to successfully avoid him, until now.

“Y/N?” 

You knew that voice all too well. Turning around, you were met with the sight of your ex, Jimin. As if that wasn’t bad enough, as you looked him over you noticed your old roommate, Soomi, hanging off of his arm. You had no clue that they were still together (you had lost all contact with anyone remotely related to Jimin), and somehow seeing them together hurt you even more. 

Jimin looked even prettier than you had last remembered him; his prince-like hair shone in the afternoon sun, his charming smile seemed even brighter. Knowing Jimin was still with Soomi made you feel that he didn’t even feel a pang of regret for cheating on you, like he didn’t need to take some time by himself to reflect (like you definitely did) or stop to grieve your relationship. From your point of view, it seemed like you never even mattered to Jimin. 

You suddenly felt self conscious of everything under the judgmental gazes of Jimin and Soomi. Those baby hairs that you didn’t bother to pin down with a bobby pin this morning now felt like they were sticking straight out of your head and the pimple that was poking through your concealer on your forehead suddenly felt like a volcano. In your mind, compared to Soomi, you looked like a hot mess.

Your brain was on autopilot for all the small-talk you made with the two of them, and you didn’t snap out of your trance until you heard these words from Jimin. 

“I only wish the best for you Y/N”

You internally scoffed at this statement. Who the fuck was Park Jimin to say that he “wishes the best for you”. You took months to get over him and the hurtful words he said to you. Every mean comment and snarky comparisons he made to you felt like it was tattooed onto your skin and stuck with you forever. But now he was standing in front of you like nothing was wrong?

In a different world, you probably would’ve slapped Jimin across the face. But instead you rose above like your mom taught you to. 

“You as well Jimin.” you said courtly with a nod, trying to stop the tears that were pricking at your eyes from escaping your tear ducts. 

After receiving a small nod from Jimin as a response, you turned around as if you had somewhere to be (in reality, you didn’t have class for another 2 hours).

Getting as far away from Jimin was all you could think about at the moment, and you moved as far as your legs could take you in whatever direction you thought would take you out of your college’s quad, even as the tears falling from your eyes blurred your vision.

You didn’t know how to feel. You had imagined what seeing Jimin for the first time after the break up would look like; maybe he would grovel at his knees and beg to have you back (it’s not that you wanted to date him again or that you had feelings for him, but it would feel nice to feel wanted), maybe you would just throw a drink in his face and walk away like a bad bitch, maybe you could’ve flashed a new boyfriend in front of his face. 

All of a sudden your phone started to ring.  Your first fear (and somewhat hope) was that it would be Jimin calling you, but little did you know that it was something so much worse.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy 

“as if this day couldn’t get any worse,” you thought to yourself as you pressed decline. You had yet to talk to Jungkook since that day at his apartment (you didn’t even call to congratulate him on his 

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy 

You groaned and hit the decline but at the speed of lightning again.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

Seriously, could this guy not take a hint? You were tempted to turn your phone off all together, but settled for hitting the decline button again.

Incoming Call: Jeon Boy

You realized that for whatever reason, Jungkook was not giving up, so you either had to answer him or listen to your ringtone of “Love Killa” by Monday X play every 10 seconds. Praying that your voice wouldn’t betray you, you took a deep (albeit shaky) breath and tried your best to wipe your tears before clicking ��answer”.

“Look Jeon, I’m - uh - sorry but I really can’t do this right now okay? I’ll call you later.” you choked out, your voice obviously wavering as you tried to be as professional as possible. 

Before you could press the “end call button” you heard Jungkook’s concerned voice through the speakers.

“Y/N, wait, you don’t sound too good. Are you okay?”

Ah yes, “are you okay” - probably the most loaded question a person could ever ask. 

You probably could’ve kept it together if he had asked any other question, but his “are you ok” truly pulled at your heartstrings.

You felt your chest tightening but you tried your best to help the feeling subside. You had yet to show weakness about how Jimin had affected you to anyone, and you sure as hell weren’t going to start with Jeon Jungkook. Clutching at your chest and taking a few deep breaths in an effort to calm your racing heart, you continued on. 

“Is that genuine concern I’m hearing from you Jeon? Be careful, you’re losing your bad boy persona,” you said as you tried to make a joke to distract him. 

“Y/N, no. I’m serious. are. you. okay.”

You couldn’t handle it anymore. Sobs broke free from your chest and you heaved into the phone, your whimpers and whines striking Jungkook on the other side of the phone. 

“I, I can’t- I just-“

The words barely broke through your sobs. Your chest was tightening and you could barely hear Jungkook through the ringing in your ears. 

“Y/N where are you, I’m coming’” said Jungkook. You could hear the jingling of his car keys and the rustling of him putting on shoes. 

As if mother nature felt your pain, the rain started pouring down on you at the same time.

You barely got out any more words to Jungkook,  but he didn’t hang up on you. He just kept whispering comforting phrases, trying to calm you down from afar as you could hear his car engine roaring in the background (in another world, you definitely would’ve yelled at him for using his phone while driving). You barely even registered that Jungkook was there at all. Every memory of you and Jimin seemed to reopen like a fresh wound, and you couldn’t feel anything except the pain. All you could do was sit on a random curb by the edge of campus, your wails probably reaching the sorority houses nearby. 

You felt broken. The sound of the thunder overhead mixed with your cries as the rain pelted you, soaking your thin sweatshirt. You don’t know how much time passed there. In your head, it felt like time was frozen, while for Jungkook it felt like he was wasting hours zooming through campus (he truly was zooming - a month later he found out that he had accumulated 3 speeding tickets trying to find you, but he would never tell you that).

“Oh, sunshine,” he murmured, voice laced with pity and concern as he pulled over his car on the curb in front of you. 

You and Jungkook hadn’t even said a word to each other since the feud at his apartment, and you had absolutely zero clue how he even managed to figure out where you were through your jumbled phone call. But all you knew is that right now you needed him. You needed someone to give you a bit of comfort, and Jungkook was somehow here to do that for you. Despite everything between you twom you couldn’t hide the feeling of relief that ran through your body as you looked up and saw Jungkook in front of you.

Coming to your side, Jungkook crouched beside you. 

“Jungkook”, you wept as he pulled you into his chest. It was probably one of the first times you had actually addressed him by his first name, which came as a surprise to him. 

Holding you closer, Jungkook couldn’t help but feel protective over you. He couldn’t help but hurt with you as he saw your fragile figure shaking in his arms. 

“You’re gonna be okay now Y/N, okay? I’m here. I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”  

And in that moment, on a dirty curbside off campus, you weren’t Jeon boy and little miss sunshine,  mortal enemies and chemistry lab partners. Instead, you were just Jeon Jungkook and Y/N., and nothing else seemed to matter at the moment.

--♡--

To your surprise (and the surprise of anyone else who knows you), you and Jungkook had not been stepping on each other’s toes as much. What had started out as extreme, extreme dislike had turned into a mild dislike (maybe even a very slight enjoyment of his presence, although you weren't about to admit that anytime soon). And of course, you both refuse to acknowledge the “Jimin incident” that had occurred a week ago and you both refuse to believe that it may have had something to do with you and Jungkook not hating each other. Your emails stopped being signed off with “do your part Jeon, or else” and instead now usually started with “Hey Jeon!” and “Thanks, Y/N”

That brought you here, in your apartment on a Friday night, eating old pizza in an old sweatshirt, no bra, and some comfy shorts that had definitely been through the wash one too many times. Researching for your chemistry project, you chuckled at how much of a londer you would look to an outsider. Sending off the articles you found on Green Chemistry to Jungkook, you closed out the email with some casual pleasantries and then turned to continue rewatching episodes of your favourite kdrama. You definitely weren’t expecting a response from Jungkook until Monday. You were sure that someone like him was at a frat party (was he even in a frat? You had no idea). Either way, Jungkook probably was lounging around in some party house with like 6 girls on his arms, while you were doing quite the opposite. 

Surprisingly, Jungkook was actually doing quite a similar thing to you. Instead of watching kdramas, he was watching Iron Man (for what was probably the 50th time), and was huddled under a makeship blanket fort like a child and scrolling through reddit. Don’t be mistaken though, Jeon Jungkook was definitely a partier, but he also knew when he needed to give his head (and liver) a break.

He saw his phone chime with a gmail notification. He took a brief scroll through the articles you had sent over to him (those were definitely work for another day since there was no way he could digest academic jargon without at least 3 cups of coffee in him), but he was pleasantly surprised with what you had come up with. 

At the same time, the Facebook tab he had open on his Macbook also lit up. 

It’s Y/N L/N’s birthday today! Leave a message on her wall to celebrate!

Jungkook’s jaw dropped. 

It was your birthday and you were sending him chemistry research papers?? Jungkook chuckled because he could already think of 1000 bad jokes to make fun of you, but he also felt some other feeling that he couldn’t quite place.  

Jungkook’s mother had always taught him that it was important to celebrate birthdays, and that is was bad luck that it was  He wasn’t sure if it was just a farce that his mother had come up with to make sure that he still attended those family-wide facetime birthday celebrations once he went to college, but either way, he still believed it to some extent. 

He had no clue why he was doing this, or how he even got here, but somehow Jungkook found himself in sweatpants and a hoodie in front of your apartment door at 10pm on a Friday night, cake in tow in one hand, his other hand out ready to knock on your door. 

On the other side of the door, you were equally astonished. It almost felt like you were seeing a hallucination, as if your email to Jungkook had somehow summoned him to your door. You couldn’t help but rub your eyes in disbelief, just to make sure he was actually there. 

“Jungkook?”

Bashful Jungkook seemed to make an appearance again as he tapped his feet in anxiety. And before he could stop himself, words were already tumbling from his mouth”

“Happy birthday?” he said as a question , posing it as if he didn’t know whether facebook was just playing a prank on him (which he honestly didn’t know). ���Can I come in?”

You didn’t even really know how to process this situation, but all you could mutter was a “uh, thank you?” in a similar inquirable tone and gesture for him to step into your apartment. If Jeon Jungkook showed up at your door at 10pm on a Friday night, he probably deserved to be heard out.

“You can make yourself comfortable on the couch. Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company otherwise I would have cleaned up a bit.”  You were sure that Jungkook’s neat freak brain was probably frying itself into overdrive based on the empty now-empty pizza box sitting on your coffee table and stray utensils and crumbs on your kitchen counter. You felt a little embarrassed that he had to see this.

Mirroring Jungkook’s hospitality last time you were at his place, you brought him a glass of water and hoped that this evening would go a LOT better than the last time you and Jungkook were alone together in an apartment. 

Jungkook’s cake was still held in his hands. It was a little cake from the 24/7 cafe on campus; he could only find one that said “happy” with little sunflowers and smiles, so hopefully the “birthday” part of it was implied. 

“I, um, I brought cake - for you. I mean your birthday.”

You sat down across from him. 

“Oh you didn’t have to Jungkook, uh that’s really nice but you didn’t have to do that,” you said as you leaned further away from the cake, as if it was an item that scared you. “I’m not big on birthdays anyways, just usually me chilling in my apartment!” 

However, Jungkook was not planning on taking no as an answer. He tried his best to plead with you, but was still getting nowhere. 

“you… you have to do it for my mom!” he said as he thrust the cake even closer to your face. 

You tilted your head in confusion at his statement. 

“I mean uh-, my mom says that it’s bad luck if you don’t blow out candles on cake on your birthday and that if you don’t do it then you won’t live to your next birthday. And um- i know we’re not friends Y/N but I’d rather see you alive next year”.

 Jungkook tried to look as nonchalant and cool as possible, and when he realized his statement was a little too thoughtful he followed it up with a “i mean you could do whatever you want i don’t care it doesn’t matter to me”. 

You were beginning to like this side of Jungkook, the one that was more thoughtful than he was a selfish, inconsiderate dude.

Taking the cake softly from his hands, you muttered a soft “thank you”. At this point Jungkook didn’t know whether you took it from his hands to throw it on the ground or actually use it for its intended purpose. As you leaned over to grab the lighter by your candles on your coffee table, Jungkook let out a breath of relief. 

Throwing open the cake box, you lit the candle in the cake and stared patiently in front of it. 

“Well Jungkook, I believe if I am going to be blowing out candles there should be singing too, no?” You joked with a silly smile on your face. 

Knowing he had no way out of this (and to be honest, he secretly wanted to anyways), he began to sing. 

You had never heard a more beautiful rendition of happy birthday in your life. Jungkook turned the most mundane song, one that you didn’t have many happy memories with, into a tune that made your heart start to swell with joy. You wished the song was longer, because as he stopped to sing you wanted nothing more than for him to keep going. 

“Make a wish, Y/N” , he whispered. 

You didn’t know what to wish for. There were a lot of things that needed to be fixed in the world, and lots of things that you needed too (like a new toothbrush, or the experience of true love). It seemed fitting that since you were only blowing out these candles because of Jungkook, you should at least dedicate the wish to him. So all you wished for was for you and Jungkook to get along just like you were in this moment. 

You looked up at Jungkook from the cake, and from there all you could say was a sincere “thank you”.

The moment was all too sincere, and you and Jungkook could feel the atmosphere shift to one that was all too intimate and friendly for your relationship. As moving away from a hot flame, you both picked up your phones and mumbled excuses to move away from the situation. 

Jungkook was the first to break the ice again. 

“I don’t know how good this cake is going to be, the expiry date was at least a week and a half ago”

“Well Jeon Jungkook, if you brought an expired cake into my apartment, it feels like a right of passage that you have to try this cake with me.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from picking up a piece of cake on a fork and shoving it into his mouth. Immediately, his face scrounged up in disgust, and you could pretty much see him gag. 

“That cream is… very creamy to stay the least,” he said as he thickly swallowed it down, grimacing the whole time. 

His expression made you chuckle. There was something about the way his naturally fluffy hair seemed to move as he swayed like a piece of seaweed on your couch (a mannerism that you had picked up on quite quickly), that made you feel warm inside.

“Considering me sacrificing myself to this cake as a birthday present to you, Y/N” 

The laugh that bubbled out of your chest almost made that gross cake worth it to Jungkook. And some words of sincerity slipped out before you could hold them in. 

“Best birthday present ever, Jungkook, thank you.

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

Taglist: @apollukee , @mrcleanheichou , @monvieesdaebak 

If you want to be tagged, please send me an ask! 

 If you liked what you read, please interact/follow! Thank you for reading♡

- Emily

[2manyfandoms2count]

That's what Friends are for

Taking a little break from I love you (not) today, with a one shot that might one day turn into a full fic. Who knows?

Anyway, have some Marichat setting up Ladrien, and trying not to give their identities away in the process. Hope you enjoy!

@marichatmay

Read on AO3

---

Marinette pouted as she leaned on her balcony railing.

Why did all her attempts at confessing her love to Adrien have to end up disastrously? When it wasn’t her own clumsiness or cold feet getting in the way, there was always something, or some one that seemed to volunteer to play the hindrance part. She sighed, thinking about the Akuma that just had to make an appearance at the exact moment Adrien was telling her about the girl he liked. Maybe it had been for the best; she didn’t know how she would have reacted had he told her he liked Lila, for instance (but that was impossible - he was smart enough to see she was nothing more than a flaky façade), but she would’ve liked to know where they stood nonetheless.

Gazing at the panoramic view of the city, she couldn’t help but think how pleasant it would be to share this moment with a loved one. The sky was dark but clear, allowing some stars to shine through. The illuminated Eiffel Tower sparkled in the distance, providing festive lighting in the midst of the warm street lights.

“Purr-etty night, isn’t it?” A voice interrupted her thoughts.

The young girl turned around, finding herself face to face with Chat Noir, leaning on his baton. Her heart ached at his brave face, his small smile not bright enough to distract her from his sad eyes. She wasn’t surprised by his presence; she’d actually been expecting it. It had become a habit for her partner to come around when Ladybug rejected him a little harshly. She winced at the not-so-distant memory of herself snapping at the boy when he’d made an innocent flirty joke while they were fighting the Akuma. She really hadn’t meant to hurt him. She was just still frustrated about her whole situation with Adrien.

“It really is.” She smiled tightly. “How are you, Kitty?”

“Eh…” He trailed, taking a couple of steps to slump beside her on the railing.

“I’m sorry.” She wished he could know just how much she meant it.

“It happens.” He shrugged. “I just wish…” He sighed, shaking his head as he looked for words. “I don’t know, that she’d talk to me about him? Just to know if I have a chance or not.”

Marinette pursed her lips, unsure how to answer. She didn’t know how appropriate it would be to laugh at how similar their situations were. He would probably feel worse than he already did, and the only way to prevent that would be to explain exactly what she was thinking, which she couldn’t do without revealing her identity. She took a deep breath and decided to give him a little something to at least help him. Her feelings were a secret she supposed she could share with him; they were probably long overdue.

“Adrien Agreste.” She whispered. She felt him tense next to her.

“What?” He squeaked. She might have poked fun at him for it in other circumstances. On his side, Chat’s heart raced in his chest. He hoped she couldn’t tell, although the roaring in his ears gave him little hope. Had Marinette figured out who he was?...

“Ladybug told me she likes Adrien Agreste.” Marinette clarified. She hoped he wouldn’t ask any questions. What if he figured out they went to the same school? Then he’d be able to figure out…

“The model?” She nodded silently, trying to avoid his gaze. “That’s fantastic!” Chat Noir’s face erupted in a giant smile. His heart rate picked up, which he hadn’t thought was possible given the speed at which it had already been beating. After all this time, it turned out the girl of his dreams was actually chasing him too, in a convoluted game of cat and mouse where they were somehow both the chaser and the chased.

“Really?” Marinette tilted her head, confused by how well her friend took the news. He looked almost… relieved, for some reason? Had she known this was how he’d react, perhaps she would have told him a lot sooner. “I didn’t think you’d be so happy about the news.”

Chat froze, his expression akin to that of a deer caught in headlights for a split second. He resumed his usual breezy demeanor so fast, though, that Marinette thought she’d dreamt it.

“Well, obviously I’m not ecstatic about it, but… Well, Adrien and I clearly don’t play in the same court when it comes to ladies.” He said, trying his best to look natural, but slightly gutted. There was potentially a date with Ladybug in the bargain if he played his cards correctly, and slipping up on his identity was not that.

“What do you mean?” Marinette frowned.

“Well, you know… He’s a model . I can’t compete with that, I’m just a… an ordinary boy.” He shrugged, internally congratulating himself for his quick thinking.

“You’re Chat Noir though. And you know Adrien Agreste from work.” She pointed out, almost offended by his words. “You can’t be that ordinary.” She smiled warmly.

“I guess...” He trailed, touched by her clear affection for him. Marinette really was amazing. “But Adrien once told me he liked Ladybug, and if she likes him as well… I don’t stand a chance.” He added, dramatically shaking his head as he placed a hand on his heart.

Marinette’s elbow lost its balance on the railing, and she caught herself before her head slammed into it.

“The girl Adrien likes is Ladybug?!” He wasn’t sure if it was a question or a statement. She seemed bewildered, but also… happy? She regained her composure before he could totally decipher her expression.

“That’s what I understood, anyway.” He answered cautiously.

Marinette paused, her eyes squinting as she thought. She was jumping down internally at the news, but she really couldn’t do anything while Chat Noir was there. Although she had lead him to believe that she and Ladybug were close -which wasn’t a complete lie- looking too overjoyed would probably seem a little strange.

“Are you sure?” She asked again, looking at him correctly for the first time since the beginning of their conversation.

“A hundred percent paw-sitive.” He nodded.

“Well, then.” She shook her head, trying to hide the smile she could feel growing on her face. “I guess we don’t have a choice.”

“What?” Chat furrowed his brow in confusion at his friend’s slightly serious look.

“We have to organise a date for them.” Marinette raised her hands in a Gallic shrug, her eyebrows raised in a “I don’t make up the rules” kind of way.

“You really think so?” His eyes lit up. He mentally slapped himself at his hopeful tone of voice. So much for not giving anything away.

“That’s what friends are for.” She crossed her arms, leaning back comfortably on the balcony railing. She hoped her slightly authoritarian demeanor effectively hid how giddy she was feeling. Adrien Agreste liked her. And they were going to go on a date .

“Where do we start?” Chat walked over to her deckchair and sat down. It would prevent him from breaking into dance in front of Marinette, which probably wouldn’t be a very smart move. After all, he was ‘helping out a friend’, not going on the date himself.

His friend looked in the distance, mindlessly toying with her hair. Now that she thought about it, she’d never really imagined going on a date with Adrien. Their future life, complete with house, children and hamster? That was all sorted. How to get there? Not so much. What could Adrien enjoy as an outing? He’d seen and done a lot given all of his ties with the fashion and celebrity industry, what could a simple girl like Ladybug offer him?

Chat Noir decided to take the lead of the conversation, Marinette looking slightly lost. “Do you think she’d enjoy bowling?” He ventured.

The girl’s gaze snapped back into focus. “Bowling?” She frowned. She’d played once or twice, more if you counted Wii practice. “I seem to recall Ladybug enjoys playing, does Adrien like it?”

Chat got a flashback to his younger years, when he and his parents used to go out to a local bowling alley almost every week. His mother had a gift when it came to the sport. She rarely scored anything less than a spare. Had it not been for those memories, he probably would’ve had his very own alley in his room, just like he had a climbing wall and private skatepark. His father couldn’t bear to be reminded of those times, though.

“He told me he likes it very much.” Chat nodded.

“I guess it’s sorted, then.”

They both stayed silent, still processing the fact that they’d somehow scored the date they’d been waiting for since the first time they’d realised how they felt. Who knew it would be that easy?

“Do you think next Saturday would be too soon?” Chat asked. His Dad would be in Japan with Nathalie. He could take care of the Gorilla to ensure his evening with Ladybug went well.

Marinette had to resist the urge to say yes there and then. “I’ll ask her, I’m supposed to see her tomorrow.” She replied instead.

“You’re a good friend, Marinette.”

The girl twitched at the epithet, the intonation way too familiar. She looked at Chat Noir suspiciously, looking for anything that could give away his identity. The way he somehow managed to fall out of her deckchair without any apparent cause made her feel stupid for the thought of him and Adrien being the same person even crossing her mind. They were both great guys, but Adrien clearly was far more graceful than her friendly neighbourhood cat.

“You too, Kitty.” She chuckled.

She had to refrain herself from suggesting that they tagged along to their "friends"' date. It would be too much hassle to plan, even with the Fox Miraculous. She'd have to find him a good gift though; he really was the wingman if the century.

She'd deal with it after her date.

[fiddlepickdouglas]

Viva Las Vegas, Pt. 14 - Unexpected Meeting

Summary: Sunset Curve Alive AU, Willex, who will they run into?, 3.2k

@trevor-wilson-covington is the bestie who makes these lovely edits, we stan supportive friends

WARNINGS: death mention, emotional trauma

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13

“Man, I need a break,” Reggie was saying as he strolled with Alex down an unfamiliar street in the early evening, stretching his arms. “I mean, being in the studio all the time has been good, but on top of everything else it’s just so much!”

Unsure where they were headed, Alex walked a few paces ahead on the sidewalk, casually navigating for both of them. He squinted as he looked at Reggie.

“Reggie, you dropped, like, all of your classes once we signed on.”

“Nope!” his friend exclaimed, tilting his head in a proud manner. “I just needed two electives to graduate. It’s okay, though, man. Not everyone finishes their math requirements as a freshman.” Reggie patted Alex’s shoulder, as if it were any sort of consolation.

“No, good for you Reg,” Alex said. His parents had paid for all this private tutoring and even gotten him to take some college credits early. Of course, his only serious plan after high school had been the band so it was all wasted effort, but then all of their attempts with him amounted to that. He was learning to feel less guilty over it. It wasn’t his fault they never cared about what he wanted.

“How long do you think Luke and Bobby are gonna be workshopping their parts together?” Reggie asked.

“Long enough. Where are we going, exactly?”

“Oh, I was just kind of keeping an eye out for anywhere interesting.”

Alex blinked. “I thought we were headed somewhere specific.”

“I’ve only been to this side of L.A. like, once, so I don’t think I’d make a good tour guide,” Reggie stated.

And just like that, Alex’s mind thrust itself back into remembering Willie. He was getting better at not crumbling completely in the moment, but it still felt like his heart was temporarily dunked into a dark ocean of misery. It would remain waterlogged and heavy inside his chest for a while.

“Alex?” Reggie was saying, looking at him with concern. “You okay?”

Snapping his thoughts back to the present, Alex sighed as he looked back at Reggie.

“I’ll be fine.”

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jean jacket and pressed his arms against his sides. Shoulders hunched, he continued through the crowd. Focusing on walking would hopefully help it wear off. He made every step purposeful, trying to get the weight in his heart to fall through his feet. Reggie’s hand on his shoulder made him turn.

“It’s still rough, isn’t it?” he asked gently. “If I said something - ”

“It’s not your fault,” Alex tried to assure him. “Sometimes it just comes out of nowhere. Besides, I can’t make you and everyone else walk on eggshells.”

“Maybe not, but we’re in this with you. It may have been different for us, but we all met Willie. I’d never seen you warm up to anyone that fast. Even after a few months, it’s still fresh; don’t force yourself to be better for us.”

Pausing on the sidewalk, Alex looked up at Reggie. He tried to smile as gratitude edged its way in, relieving most of the heaviness in his chest.

“I appreciate that, Reg.”

“Of course, man.”

“So,” Alex took a deep breath to let everything else wash away as they kept wandering. “You made it sound like you had a lot going on. Is everything at home okay?”

Reggie shrugged. “Eh...no change there. My mom went to stay with her sister after the last fight, so my dad’s been trying his best to take care of everything, but he’s too upset to handle it well. My little sister has just been sleeping over with friends anyway, and I can handle myself, so - ” he shrugged again, “ - you know, I do what I can.”

Alex nodded. He had nothing really to comment, and Reggie knew he was always there to support him. This wasn’t anything unusual for him, but it still wasn’t right. Neither of them spent much time at their own homes, so wandering through the city like this kept them occupied when they weren’t with the rest of the band. Looking up at the store signs around them, he saw a record store about a block ahead.

“Hey, why don’t we check that out?” he suggested.

“Yeah!” Reggie said, dropping any ounce of gloom from the previous subject and skipping along to catch up with Alex.

A small bell rang as they came through the door, and they immediately began filtering through shelves of records and CDs. Peeking toward the back of the store, Alex could see a counter that offered a menu of food and drinks, some tables, as well as the smallest stage in the world. This seemed like a neat little place.

“Oh,” Reggie started after a while. “I got us a gig playing at my cousin’s wedding.”

“A wedding?” Alex said skeptically, turning from the Pansy Division vinyl he was checking out. “When we’re trying to finish a record and go on tour?”

“It’s Conrad, okay, he’s family! And he said we could make the setlist.”

Alex shrugged, considering that was fair.

“...with his approval.”

At that addition, Alex could only sigh and shake his head.

“And then maybe, you could, I don’t know, finally ask Bobby to be your date?”

Reggie put down the Mötley Crüe album he’d been examining and looked up at him in shock. Alex realized he’d possibly been too blunt. But immediately Reggie began to cover it up, laughing and shaking his head.

“What?” he said, his denial completely transparent. “Was that a...was that supposed to be a joke or something?”

Giving him a look of pity, Alex put his hands on his hips.

“You’re really gonna try to pull the wool over the eyes of your gay friend?”

Caught, Reggie looked back at him in defeat and bowed his head.

“I’m gonna guess you noticed a while ago?”

Nodding, Alex tried to soften his demeanor. 

“There’s been something up with you two for months. How come you haven’t tried to talk to him about it?”

Reggie knit his brow and began fiddling with his fingers.

“Well, I’m a little confused by it, to be honest. Cuz, I mean...I like girls, right?”

“Yeah, so?”

“But I like Bobby, too.”

“Okay.”

His friend looked up at him, expecting more of a reaction. Alex leaned against the shelf and folded his arms.

“Do you think there’s something wrong with you? Because you’re talking to the king of wrong feelings.”

“Well, sometimes I feel like that, but not really. It’s something else,” Reggie said.

“Like what?”

“Well...we’ve been friends for years. It just sort of crept up on me and I don’t know what to do. What if he rejects it? He’s one of my best friends.”

Thinking for a moment, Alex looked down at his feet. He didn’t blame Reggie for being worried. He’d had a mini crush on Bobby for a couple weeks back in ninth grade and had the same dilemma. It was easier for him to get over, though, simply because it had faded quickly.

“Well, I wish I could say if it’s meant to be it’ll happen, but sometimes…”

Sometimes it dies in a fire before there’s any chance of knowing.

He shook his head to get rid of the awful thought and ignored Reggie’s look of concern.

“But if I know Bobby, I don’t think it’s going to harm anything. I think you should go for it, Reg. I truly, honestly, will back you up on that.”

A smile spread wide across Reggie’s face.

“Thanks, man!”

Without fretting over it for another second, he turned back to the shelf of CDs he’d been perusing, and Alex did the same. There was a crazy good selection, and Alex wished he could get his hands on a record player. Playing CDs on a boombox worked for some things, but there was a level of charm in playing something on a vinyl record that appealed to him even more. He made a note to get a small notebook to carry in his fanny pack, hoping to return to this store and make a wishlist of sorts to work toward.

“Do I see Alex and Reggie of Sunset Curve?” A familiar voice said from behind.

Both of them turned to find Flynn standing in the aisle, braids tied up into a high ponytail and eyebrow arched in her usual smart fashion.

“Hey Flynn!” Reggie exclaimed, pulling her into a hug. Alex went in for one afterward, happily surprised.

“Hey guys!” she said, grinning.

“What are you up to?” Alex asked.

“Gonna be performing in a bit,” she said excitedly. “Just a warm up before the main group comes on. I’ve been working on some of my own stuff; I think you guys would love it! Got time to stick around?”

“Sweet!” Reggie raised a fist for her to bump. “I’m down. Alex, wanna stay?”

“Yeah, sounds great!”

He had yet to see what Flynn was capable of. If he were to judge only on knowing she’d been in a duo with Julie, he expected it to be good.

“Also, you should try the burritos here,” Flynn told them. “They are to die for!”

The endless click-rollll-click-click-click of his board filled his ears as Willie moved through the street, feeling the wind pass over him in the way that made freedom feel like he could clutch it in his hands. He’d actually spent today not worrying about Alex. It felt good not to dwell on what little past he had access to. Of course, he still had repetitive dreams about the few memories that had come back, but the backwards one with Caleb in it hadn’t come back ever since he’d gotten to LA. Moving forward felt...nice.

He had spent the morning sketching at the beach, getting all sorts of practice in. The beautiful waves, seagulls, the different activities all around him. Somehow a group of young college kids had gotten him to join their volleyball tournament. Willie wasn’t sure if he’d ever played it before, but once he caught onto the game, he’d gotten surprisingly good. It felt nice to roll up the hem of his jeans and dig his toes into the warm sand while playing with a group of strangers. They’d nicknamed him Mowgli, whatever that meant. He liked the sound of it though.

Heading off to work after cleaning himself up, he realized he could spend all his free time that way. Peacefully sketching, meeting fun people, and enjoying his surroundings. Was that all it took to be happy? Willie chuckled at the thought of how much Caleb had stressed over rising to the top of his business game, never appearing to be satisfied with any of it. Leaving Vegas remained the best decision he’d ever made. Of course, he wasn’t always proud about his method of burning down the shed, but it had been one of those...heat of the moment things.

Willie skated up to the back entrance and shook his hair out after lifting off his helmet. Just a few short hours of making food, some chill entertainment, and he could peace out for the night. He headed inside the store and right into the small kitchen. Thankfully, the store didn’t fit too many patrons and it was never hard to keep up with orders, and Kyle had a system so he never had to leave the kitchen. This basically meant he could jam to the live music during the lulls between orders with no interruption.

Kyle entered the kitchen just as Willie was tying on his apron.

“Hey, dude, thanks for coming. We actually got two acts coming in, so it should be a full crowd. Katelyn can be the MC for the first bit, but do you mind taking over for the second half?”

A twinge of excitement came over Willie and he lit up. He’d never gotten to try being an MC before.

“Don’t mind at all!” he said.

“Alright, man!” Kyle exclaimed. “First two orders up: swamp style nachos and a bog burrito.”

“Got it.”

“We’re up for a big night with these performances,” the girl hosting hyped up the crowd. “Let’s give it up for our artist of the night: Flynn Taylor!”

Reggie cupped his hands over his mouth as he hollered along with everyone else’s applause. Alex clapped with a mouthful of nachos. Flynn stepped onto the stage behind a set of deejay turntables, smirking as she began flipping switches and turning knobs.

“Thanks for coming out here everyone,” she said into the mic. More applause and whistles echoed through the room. “We’re gonna make a lot of noise tonight, so let me hear you get pumped!”

As she began playing a beat, Alex bobbed along, immediately interested. He didn’t know a thing about mixing, so he was highly impressed with the different sounds she was using. Then Flynn picked up the mic and began rapping and the whole room cheered.

“...I’m a princess, I don’t need a prince, boy I’m priceless...I’m here to shut it down like a night shift…”

“Man,” Reggie leaned over to Alex. “She’s so good! I say we book her to open for us ASAP as possible.”

Alex merely snorted and chuckled at Reggie’s misuse of the acronym. He actually enjoyed the idea of having Flynn rapping to open for their rock shows. Gigs where all the bands sounded the same got a little flavorless sometimes.

“Also,” Reggie said as he took a huge bite into his burrito. “This is the best burrito I’ve ever had.”

“Lemme try some, you can try my nachos,” Alex said.

All Reggie could say was Mm! as he passed the burrito over.

The final beats of the first performer echoed in the kitchen where Willie had been dancing, waving various kitchen tools around. He’d thoroughly enjoyed the whole set, and wondered what sounded so familiar about the girl who was rapping. Before he could spend more time thinking about it, Kyle came in.

“Okay, you ready?” he asked.

“I just keep people busy and then announce the next group, right?” Willie guessed.

“Yeah, man, you’ve got this!”

“What’s the next group called?”

“Downslide. And they brought some merch, so it’s a good idea to mention that to the crowd as well.”

“Okay,” Willie nodded, slipping out of his apron. “Maybe I could put their t-shirt on or something, you know, sell the look?”

Kyle looked impressed. “Yeah! I’ll go see what they’ve got.”

He left the kitchen and hardly a minute later returned with a jacket.

“They said you could wear it for the night. Not gonna lie, I wish I could wear this, it’s a sweet jacket.”

Willie slipped it on, and turned around. He didn’t often wear jackets, but whatever it was made of was pretty soft.

“Guess I’m ready,” he said, giving Kyle a hand slide and fist bump before leaving the kitchen. He stepped up behind the microphone and looked out at the crowd, and further back, the empty store.

At that moment, he heard the bell of the store door ring and two guys walked outside. Through the window, a familiar leather jacket passed. Then, he saw a head of blonde hair follow, turning to look both ways to cross the street, and his heart grew to fill all the empty space in his chest. It was unmistakable. It had to be.

“Alex...” he breathed quietly into the microphone. Adrenaline immediately went out to his extremities. The crowd before him looked bewildered as they waited for him to announce the next group.

Glancing offstage, he saw Kyle give him a strange look. Willie shook his head, unclear what message he was sending but ultimately knowing he couldn’t stay at his current spot. Before he could think anything else, his legs were bounding out the door. It felt like every ounce of blood in his veins knew. The search was over.

Reggie and Alex had just reached the opposite corner. He wasn’t going to miss his chance.

“Alex!” he cried, running to meet them.

He immediately thrust his arms around a surprised Alex, gripping him tightly, burying his face into his shoulder.

“Oh my god, Alex!” he said, panting. “It’s so good to see you.”

He didn’t feel the hug didn’t reciprocate, and instead Alex grabbed his shoulders and pushed him away. The darkness of the street seemed to envelop him.

“What are you - ?” Alex started, staring back at Willie like he’d just been assaulted. Then shock wiped over his whole face. Then confusion. And then a pain came over all of it that made Willie’s concern grow.

“What - what is it?” he asked, all the excitement gone.

Alex wouldn’t look him in the eye, and he raised a hand to hold the side of his head.

“No, this isn’t real,” he whispered to himself, shrinking backward and shutting his eyes. “This can’t be real.”

Willie glanced over at Reggie, who also stared like he was seeing the impossible. He could see Alex shaking and heard a rattled breath, and felt tension grow thick in the air. Quickly, he went to take Alex’s face in his hands.

“Alex, hey, look, it’s me,” he soothed. He fought to get a look directly into his eyes. “It’s me, Willie.”

Finally, the green ocean gazed back at him, turbulent and restless. What once had been a grounding rhythm of waves had turned into a maelstrom of despair. Even worse were the tears welling up right before him. Willie watched the storm rage for a few seconds, seeking for a moment of calm.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured, lowering his hands. Alex looked so wounded it frightened him.

“How are you alive?” Alex begged to know.

Blinking, Willie sat back, astounded at those words. While he agreed it was a miracle he was still alive, he couldn’t fathom why Alex would ask such a question. He chuckled merely out of discomfort.

“I’m here.” Willie glanced at Reggie, looking for an explanation. “Flesh and bone. Why? What happened?”

Alex looked at him incredulously, jaw hanging open. He looked so tightly wound and so scattered all at once. 

“Caleb told me you were dead.”

Willie blanched inwardly at the mention of Caleb, but even more so at the rest of that sentence he’d been utterly unprepared to hear.

“He...he - ” he stammered for a moment. “When would you have even talked to him?”

Sharing a look with Reggie, Alex took a deep breath. Then he looked back at Willie hesitantly.

“We see him all the time. We work for him now.”

It was Willie’s turn to drop his jaw.

“We’ve been signed to his record label for a few months now,” Reggie pitched in.

Directing his gaze to the ground, Willie puzzled for a minute.

“Why would I be dead?” he asked, looking back up at Alex.

For a minute Alex simply gazed at him wordlessly.

“I don’t know,” he said. There was a pause as both of them finally looked at each other, fully aware that this was real. And then Alex threw his arms around Willie to return the hug. Willie had to raise himself up on his toes to avoid falling over, and he tightened his grip to remain steady. He felt joy spread through his whole torso and breathed a sigh of relief as hands tangled into his hair. “But that doesn’t matter. I’m so happy to see you.”

[chierafied]

What Wouldn’t I Do For You

1.7 k words of unproofread randomness because my enablers enabled me.

For @inuvember Day 24, Family.

Kagome had been Inuyasha's best friend since middle school.

By this point, she was like family – except Sesshoumaru's feelings for her hadn't been exactly familial for several years now.

He'd suppressed and hidden those feelings away, refused to acknowledge them.

But much as he loved Rin, she would never have persuaded Sesshoumaru into such ridiculousness if those unwanted, unrequited, inappropriate feelings for his younger half-brother's best friend weren't there.

Of course, while he did not expect anything from Kagome and would never presume to act on those damn inconvenient feelings, with this stunt he would surely ruin all his meagre chances forever.

Rin was five and had recently come to the conclusion that princesses were the best thing ever and that ballet dancers were basically real-life princesses.

The pink tutu Kagome had got Rin for her last birthday was her very favourite thing to wear, and if Rin could decide (and Sesshoumaru was forced to admit to his shame that she got to decide much too often) she would be wearing it and pretending to be a princess ballerina 24/7.

So, it shouldn’t have come as a huge shock to Sesshoumaru, that when he gently suggested to Rin that they should do something nice for Kagome, like buy her a gift and make a nice card, Rin’s thoughts had turned to ballerinas.

Solemnly, she’d informed Sesshoumaru that while gifts and cards were nice, she had something much better in mind.

They should invite Kagome over, Rin had told him. They would do dress up and have a tea party together. And then they would have a special show for Kagome.

Sesshoumaru had his doubts about this entire plan, of course. But then nothing would as effectively take Kagome’s mind off of the loss of her grandfather than a day spent indulging Rin.

Then again, he hadn’t factored in two things when he had given Rin the green light: that he would, himself, have to participate in this “special show”, and that Rin had his wardrobe all ready and picked out for him.

Kagome accepted the invitation gladly.

When the doorbell rang and Rin rushed to the door to let their guest in, Sesshoumaru noted that Kagome’s blue eyes looked bruised, the smile she offered Rin a little hollow.

“Welcome, Kagome-nee-chan!” Rin gushed, fiercely hugging Kagome’s legs.

“Hello, Rin-chan. Thank you so much for inviting me,” Kagome replied, ruffling the girl’s head.

Sesshoumaru stepped forward as Rin sped away towards her room.

He wanted to hug so bad – and for precisely that same reason did not give her one.

“How have you been?” he asked, his low voice laced with concern.

“Not great,” Kagome said, offering another wan smile. “One day at a time, right?”

Sesshoumaru only had time to nod, and then Rin was back.

Beaming, she proffered her favourite plastic tiara to Kagome.

“Here! You’re the princess today!”

That lured a little laugh out of Kagome. “Am I? How wonderful!”

With great care, she placed the tiara on top of her dark hair.

Rin took her hand, reached for Sesshoumaru’s next.

“Let’s play dress up!”

Over her head, Sesshoumaru’s gaze met Kagome’s and he offered her a wry smile. “Let’s.”

* * * * * * * * * * * *

 Losing her grandfather had not come as a huge shock. His health had not been the greatest for a while, and he had been getting on the years. Her whole family had known it was coming, and yet… He had been the first family member she had lost since her father.

So for a while, life had seemed to dull into grey numbness.

When the invitation had arrived, it had shocked a smile out of her.

For one, Kagome had not expected an invitation from Sesshoumaru. Secondly, he had obviously given Rin free hands with it, as the invitation had been pink and decorated with copious amounts of flower stickers and glitter.

The fancy handwriting inviting her to a tea party and a dance recital was all Sesshoumaru’s, though.

Her heart had fluttered with anticipation, for the first time since her world had grown grey.

And so far, Kagome hadn’t been disappointed.

When Rin had offered the pink tutu and feather boa for Sesshoumaru at the very beginning of their dress up game, Kagome hadn’t quite managed to stifle her giggle.

She’d been pleasantly surprised when Sesshoumaru had accepted the items without complaint and put them on. He looked ridiculous, but Kagome’s heart also melted a little at how wonderful he was with Rin, how willing to engage with her and the things she enjoyed.

How many dads played dress up with their daughters?

Besides, Sesshoumaru could make that pink feather boa work.

Grinning from ear to ear, Kagome added her own touch by placing a flower crown on Sesshoumaru’s head, earning a raised eyebrow.

Rin had donned a set of fairy-wings and was now digging through her jewellery box, handing a plethora of bright plastic bead necklaces out to Kagome.

She obediently draped them over her neck.

Kagome found a sparkly scarf which she tied around her neck to serve as a cape. Princesses should have capes.

Then, Rin got out her makeup. All kids stuff, in bright colours. Her brown eyes were dancing with delight and Kagome silently thought that she must be the sweetest kid ever.

Sesshoumaru, however, groaned aloud.

He had good cause, because Rin didn't enthusiastically begin to apply makeup on herself, but focused her efforts on her father.

Kagome slapped a hand over her mouth so as not to laugh outright as Sesshoumaru sat patiently and with only the faintest frown creasing his brow as Rin hummed and smeared lines of magenta red on his cheeks with her chubby fingers.

Mischief sparkled inside Kagome then, and when Rin pulled back, she announced it was her turn, holding her hand out for the makeup palette.

Rin beamed at her as she passed it over.

Sesshoumaru sighed but offered no protest or complaint.

Kagome studied her choices, finally deciding on magenta eyeshadow matching the stripes Rin had drawn.

"Close your eyes," Kagome told Sesshoumaru, scooting closer.

He rolled his eyes first, but did close them, and sat perfectly still while Kagome carefully applied the eyeshadow on him.

"You can open now," she told him once she was done.

Oddly enough, it seemed to suit him, it made his eyes seem a bit lighter, a bit brighter. Like molten pools of gold.

For a moment, they simply stared at one another.

Then, Kagome hastily turned her attention to the makeup palette.

"Now, for a final touch!" she declared, trying for a joke.

She chose another eyeshadow, this one a glittery blue.

On a whim, she traced a crescent moon on Sesshoumaru's forehead, biting her lip in concentration.

“There,” she whispered, leaning back. “Perfect.”

And somehow, it really was.

“Right then,” Sesshoumaru murmured. He slanted a glance at Rin. “I think we’re ready for the tea party.”

 Kagome gushed over the selection of cakes, frosted cupcakes, cookies, ice cream and mochi that Sesshoumaru had ordered while Rin kept pointing out her favourites and insisting that Kagome try everything.

 * * * * * * * * * * * *

Sesshoumaru sat in silence and poured the tea, half-surprised that his hands were steady.

When Kagome had taken over Rin to apply that silly makeup on him, every nerve-ending had suddenly been standing at attention. His heart had raced madly in his chest and for a few critical seconds he had forgotten how to breathe.

She had been right there, in his reach, her fingers warm and soft as they’d danced on his skin.

Somehow, he’d managed to rein in the impulse to lean in, to kiss her.

The tutu and the feather boa had probably helped with that, as it was impossible to forget what a horrid sight he must be.

Sesshoumaru served the tea and even managed a bite of mochi while he listened to Kagome’s and Rin’s chatter, occasionally weighing in on the discussion.

It felt good, to have Kagome here with him and Rin, Sesshoumaru thought, as he watched Kagome brush off a bit of frosting smeared on Rin’s cheek.

It felt right.

If only.

All too soon, however, Rin and Kagome had eaten their fill.

Rin all but glowed with excitement as she turned to Kagome and told her they had prepared a special show for her.

Rin took Kagome’s hand, pulled her along to the living room.

Sesshoumaru trailed after them, resigned to his fate.

All too soon, Kagome was settled on the sofa, looking expectantly at him and Rin.

It was time to dance.

Rin hadn’t laid out any choreography for their grand performance, so Sesshoumaru tried to just imitate his daughter the best he could.

He hopped. He pranced. He twirled.

Perhaps, if Kagome squinted, it might even be called dancing.

Sesshoumaru felt like a prize idiot.

And yet, perhaps, he was an even bigger fool because he did not care.

Not when Kagome was clapping and grinning.

Not while her beautiful laughter rang in the air, sweeter than any sound.

To hear that now, after the grief she still carried within, was worth a hundred pink tutus.

When their dance show wound to its end and Rin dropped into an exaggerated curtsey, Kagome got up to her feet and clapped wildly.

“Bravo! That was amazing!”

They had a little more tea and a few more bites of cake after the dance, and then, finally, came the dreaded hour when Kagome had to leave.

She crouched down and took off the tiara and gave it back to Rin. Then she gave Rin a big hug and thanked her for the invitation.

When Kagome straightened, her eyes met Sesshoumaru’s. She came to him but offered no hugs.

Instead, feather-soft and all too brief, her lips brushed against his cheek.

Sesshoumaru froze.

“Thank you,” Kagome breathed. “This was everything I didn’t know I needed.”

“You’re welcome,” Sesshoumaru replied when he finally found his voice again and remembered how to use it.

“Also,” she added, her blue eyes twinkling, “you look great.”

With one last bright grin, Kagome left.

Sesshoumaru bent to pick up Rin and cradled his daughter in his arms, pressed his nose to the crown of her head.

“Thank you, Rin. Your idea worked really well.”

“We should invite Kagome-nee-chan over again soon,” Rin said, hugging Sesshoumaru.

“That we should,” Sesshoumaru agreed, his heart full.

[goldeneyedgirl]

TwiFicMas20 Christmas Eve: All These Broken Things

... Is it really the end of FicMas if I haven’t posted something from All These Broken Things? I think not. The first sections can be found here and here. This is the fic where Alice travelled with James and doesn’t meet the Cullens until that baseball game. 

It's very strange finally being with the family she was always destined to be with, when she thought she had lost them so long ago.

She finds great satisfaction just watching them - Emmett yelling at the sports on the television; Edward perched at the piano, Rosalie working on her cars. She hovers, like a little ghost, folded into corners and against doorframes, vanishing the second they might acknowledge her.

Esme seems to like her company, as she goes about day-to-day things, chatting away to the silent girl with the enormous, sad black eyes, who trails after her like a stray.

She stays away from Carlisle, trying to avoid the moment he declares her to be cast out, too far gone for them to redeem.

And she stays away from Jasper, because it hurts too much. She doesn't tell Jasper what she knows, what they were meant to be to one another. The past is gone, and she has been broken into too many pieces. He watches her like a hawk, and without words, she knows he will be the one to destroy her if she steps out of line. His hands will crack her limbs apart and he will not flinch or feel any loss.

She wonders if she should tell him that if he was the to destroy her, she would not fight it. She would part in his hands like a paper doll, and hold no ill will to him for such an act.

Sometimes, she lets herself remember the old visions, the ones where they were everything to one another. Only when Edward's away, though; she doesn't like him rifling around in her head. No one deserves being forced to see some of those things.

And it hurts, a raw wound in her heart, that she was meant for something else, for happiness and peace and love, instead of what she was dealt in life. One of her greatest unanswered questions is why? What unforgivable thing did she do in her forgotten human past that earned such a punishment?

Then she remembers what she has done at James’ side for so many decades, at the faces and the screams and the suffering, and somehow she lived her crimes and her penance at the same time.

So she continues to pretend she doesn’t notice that Edward keeps Bella away from the house; that Emmett or Jasper hover in the background as she trails after Esme, as she watches Rose. That she can only go hunting when Jasper and Emmett can go along too; the ones strong enough and fast enough to restrain her.

When Edward does bring Bella back to the house at Esme’s insistence, she sits on the opposite side of the room, and listens to the conversation, keeping still and silent.

When Carlisle arrives home from work, she focuses on the magazine or book she has found, pretending to be absorbed by the glossy pictures, still and silent, to not notice as he studies her with patience she isn’t sure is genuine.

When Jasper joins Emmett for something noisy and angry on the television, their gazes occasionally sliding towards her, she is frozen in place, her gaze out the window.

She’s played this game before. Be good and quiet and still. The blow will come, eventually, but at least she can prepare herself for it, brace herself for the inevitable fall. They don’t trust her.

She doesn’t trust her, either.

Six.

They settle into a sort of routine.

She’s allowed to hunt with Esme and Rosalie now, though she’s careful to keep her distance, to trek a little further into the forest, to reassure them. She usually waits until they call her back.

She is always carefully supervised during their hunts, and finally, finally, the cracks James left across her nose and cheeks have finally faded away. They hunt too often for her, and when she forces herself to finish the animal, she vomits everywhere. She says nothing, but she feels safer a little hungry, her eyes black rather than a strange gold-orange.

Edward lets her sit beside him when he plays the piano, tells her about each of the pieces of music. He tries to teach her once, attempts to guide her hands into position, but she panics and jerks away, and he doesn’t offer again.

Emmett is nice to her. He seems to understand not to come up behind her without warning, not to touch. Sometimes she perches on the end of the couch and watches the television with him. She doesn’t stay very long, but he always gives her a big smile when she leaves, as if he’s had a wonderful time.

She doesn’t understand Emmett, but she thinks she could like him.

Rosalie can’t seem to decide whom she dislikes more – her or Bella - and she’s sure that Rose is going to get whiplash from changing her mind about both of them so many times. But Rose addresses her and is reasonably civil, mostly out of some kind of misguided caution that she is some kind of threat, and that is some kind of progress.

She and Bella have few words to say to each other. ‘Sorry I helped someone attempt to torture and exsanguinate you’ isn’t something she can work out how to say out-loud and have it sound genuine. Mostly because the truth is closer to, ‘I’m sorry you found yourself in this situation, but I don’t regret my choices. The consequences for me would have been much, much worse than you can ever comprehend. Your fragile mortality would have spared you of the worst of it. I’d make the same decision one hundred times in a row without a second thought.’

She’s certain that would upset everyone.

Bella seems rather reluctant to spent time in her presence, and she does wonder if that’s because she’s the side of the coin that isn’t beauty-wealth-love. She’s the side of suffering, of pain and of misery, murder and regret. Bella wants perfection, wants the glamour and magic of the Cullens, and none of the honest truth of being a vampire.

But it’s probably the murder attempt.

Then there are things that haven’t changed since she arrived. She’s not allowed to be alone, or to leave the house aside from hunting – even then, she has to be accompanied.

But every single day, James is still gone and she is still here. And there will never be a time when that knowledge is not sweet.

//

Her wardrobe is limited - a few old t shirts that once belonged to Esme and are too big, her worn jeans and the filthy, stained cardigan that she had when they found her. Her thin knees have long since torn through her pants, and the cardigan's sleeves are frayed and holey, but she is clean and free.

And then she is deemed in control enough to go shopping. Esme approaches her with the idea, with glossy magazines and gentle suggestions. It is an idea that has even intrigues Rosalie enough for her to join them.

They clearly still think she is a risk, though, because it is a family outing, with looks of such boredom and long-suffering on the faces of the male Cullens when it is decided, that she laughs softly behind her hand.

The building they take her to is huge and full of people. It is like a blow to the face, of blood and scent, and she visibly recoils from it at first, unsure and on edge. And they are patient, escorting her in, with encouraging words.

Eventually, though, they show her the clothes and the sight of the racks is enough to distract her from the heady scent. It is overwhelming, the colours and fabrics and styles, and she simply stares, with Emmett laughing at her stunned expression.

Esme is so kind, guiding her gently through the racks, telling her to choose anything she likes. She is careful, though, picking new jeans, a new cardigan, soft and clean and sunshine yellow. Esme helps her pick shoes out - the first pair she's had in decades. Soft brown winter boots, black sneakers, gold and black flats that make her feel like a princess. At her childlike delight with her fancy shoes, Esme buys her a black sundress with ties at the back and bows on the straps, that will bare her arms and triangles of flesh on her back.

Underwear is a strange concept. It's nothing that she has ever bothered with before. She is useless in the wake of so many choices, and let's Esme and Rosalie choose what she needs, dress her like a doll, whilst she amuses herself with how clearly uncomfortable both Jasper and Edward are in such a department.

She almost feels pretty – even desirable - in the plain cotton that make her skinny frame look almost womanly. She’s too embarrassed to even try on the satin and lace sets Rosalie has chosen. They aren’t for girls like her – girls that wear those things are more than she will ever be – prettier, sweeter, bolder. They are too much, and when she refuses, she doesn’t understand the look Rosalie and Esme exchange, Rosalie looking sly and Esme with an expression of warning.

Afterwards, they look for other things. The books hold little interest for her, as do the endless electronics. She doesn’t mean to wander off, but a demonstration by the art supplies store catches her eye, and she stands a little away from the crowd, watching the man draw. It is Esme and Jasper who find her, both looking alarmed, but she pretends she doesn’t see them, her gaze focused on the pencil that so carefully makes its way across the page.

“Alice,” Esme is at her side. “You scared us.” Her smile is bright, but her eyes worried – what would the Cullens do if she attacked in a place like this, with so many eyes? She doesn’t get to ponder that thought much longer, as Jasper’s hand closes over her shoulder and she is guided away.

For the rest of the afternoon, Jasper is her ominous shadow, as she dutifully trails after them.

She doesn't have her own room, but she doesn’t truly need one. Until now, she hasn’t had any possessions to store, and she doesn’t require the privacy a mated couple does. But, she has found she likes the attic. Full of things that need repairs or to be stored, it is a mad tea party of furniture and items.

There’s an old grey chair is missing a leg, and has an ugly stain that not even Esme could draw out that she likes. She folds herself into it, and she feels safe in that little corner, with the narrow window that overlooks the forest and spills in afternoon light. There's an old dresser up there, too, so that's where she arranges her new things, carefully folding and smoothing them into each drawer, precisely and lovingly.

Rosalie brings her some cosmetics and half a glass bottle of perfume – the bottle is shaped like an egg and etched with tiny flowers and curlicues and it is so delicate and beautiful, she is frightened to hold it. Rosalie watches as she sprays the scent into the air, the delighted look at the scent of flowers. She is nervous at Rosalie’s gesture, but grateful. Grateful enough that she allows Rosalie to cut the matted ends of her hair off into a neat, shorter style.

It makes her look more delicate, younger, maybe sweeter, she thinks as she strokes the strands in the mirror. And less like a roving maniac, at least according to the shiny-haired Rosalie, who watches her with satisfaction in her eyes.

She should be offended, but there’s this tiny hope that maybe, just maybe, Rosalie is turning her into something new. Something good and better.

Something like a sister.

//

It’s Esme’s idea to invite Bella around the evening of her birthday. Just a family gathering, with a few simple gifts. Everyone sort of agrees, and try to work out what to give the sullen girl.

She manages a portrait of Bella and Edward seated together at the piano that Esme gushes over, and has framed.

There have been some hints, from Carlisle and Edward that she will have to attend school eventually. She doesn’t understand that, but is just waiting for them all to graduate. They’ll leave when they’ve graduated and she won’t have to worry about school again.

She arranges peonies on the piano for Bella, upon Esme’s request, and is reminded of her old, fragmented vision of blood and glass. But nothing comes to her; the future is clear and her mind has decided to play tricks on her again.

Or perhaps her mind is the best part of her, the gentle warning she ignored becoming obvious as soon as Bella’s finger slips against the wrapping paper. Jasper’s eyes blacken as soon as Bella’s flesh parts and the blood beads, and suddenly he is lunging. She sees it in an instant, Bella’s crumpled body in his grip and Edward’s howls and the house of the Cullens irreversibly fallen. She sees an endless parade of James’ victims, broken and dead in Bella’s blank eyes.

She sees the horror and the guilt in Jasper’s eyes, sees the vastness of Mexico and the rise of a monster born of regret and impulse.

It is over before he even moves, decision made, and she has to stop this.

The shriek startles them all, coming from her mouth as she darts in front of him.

In another life, the flavour of her desperation and fear would be enough for him to pause, to grasp wildly at his resistance. Instead, he throws her aside, her body crashing through the front windows in a rain of wood and glass, leaving an imprint of her body in the flowerbed outside.

She picks herself up out of the flower bed as Emmett and Rosalie drag Jasper bodily from the house, Esme close behind them. Their eyes are all pitch black; a harmless paper cut did not cause this reaction.

“She cut open her arm,” is Emmett’s grim explanation as Jasper’s struggles slow, his eyes firmly on the door of the house.

“It was an accident,” Esme adds, shame in every line of her stance.

“Alice seemed to know,” Rosalie murmurs, her eyes still on Jasper.

She will never understand Rosalie, why she always needs to assign blame, to identify the victim and the antagonist. She ignores the statement, even as they all swing to look at her, as she examines her shoulder. Jasper didn’t hit her hard enough for cracks to form, but it doesn’t look like it’s properly aligned.

When she does look up again, she can see it in all their eyes – did she let this happen on purpose? Does she hold some ugly vendetta against poor, sweet Bella?

She did help James …

She’s surprised – she thought it would be Edward that came after her, later, to criticise and punish her for the limitations on her faulty gift. He still might – he hasn’t decided properly, too focused on patching up Bella.

But it’s Jasper, wrenching out of Rosalie and Emmett’s grasp, with murder in his eyes and the target on her.

He doesn’t yell, but his words are poisonous, nasty and accusing. She flinches, Esme gasps and even Emmett tries to get him to stop. Some of them, she knows, aren’t meant for her. They are frustration, humiliation and disappointment directed at himself, at his own weakness.

But when she instinctively backs away, and he grabs her wrist, and she lets out a tiny cry of fear; it is Rosalie who comes to her rescue, who snarls and yells and pries his iron grip from her.

“I don’t care how pissed you are, you don’t touch her like that.”

The words seem to echo, and Carlisle, Edward and Bella are watching from the front door.

Her apology is stammered, weak in the sudden silence, her insistence that she didn’t know sounding bewildered and feeble as she darts away, into the forest to pick glass and wood out of her hair and wonder just how many other warnings she’s missed.

//

[jenniferxprentiss]

I Knew You’d Linger Like A Tattoo Kiss -> 3/6

you’re my golden hour (the color of my sky)

read it as a stand-alone oneshot here

The third time JJ kisses Alex in front of the team, they’re enjoying a rare day off at the carnival. JJ can’t keep her eyes off of Alex all day, and as the sun begins to set behind the clouds, casting them in a pink glow, JJ can’t resist insisting they go on the Ferris wheel just once. They’re quiet as they ride, JJ’s head leaned on Alex’s shoulder until they reach the top of the ride, both looking at the flashing lights below them as the sun disappears, giving way to a vibrant pink. In that moment, regardless of who was watching, JJ couldn’t help herself, leaned up and pressed her lips against Alex’s as the ride began to slowly descend.

or the alternative summary.....

Emily was arguing with Reid and Garcia about who got to go on first, Alex and JJ both laughing out loud at the way she was waving her arms around and trying to prove her point. In her defense, she had been dead and exiled to Paris after the trauma of Doyle — and in Spencer’s, she had left him behind and didn’t even say goodbye. “Hey, I thought we agreed to not bring that up again.” JJ’s tone was firm, eyes narrowing at Emily in particular who mumbled out an embarrassed apology. “How about you rock paper scissors for it?” “I like the way you think.” JJ stretched up on her toes, placed a soft kiss to Alex’s cheek before turning her attention back to Spencer and Emily, who were engaged in another bickering war.

hi hello lovelies!

the decision to post this as both a standalone AND the next chap of the 5+1 was a little tough, so I’m hoping you aren’t TOO mad at me for it! i just thought that 1) it would get more exposure tagged as hotchniss, light implied morcied and 2) this is entirely too long (3.2k words!) to be JUST a chapter. and it’s also lightly focused on the rest of the BAU too!! if u don’t like Alex x JJ, I don’t suggest u read, though! but whatever floats ur boat. love u!!

tag list xo lemme know if u want a future tag! @babyblockcolorcat @whiskey-fluent @anepiphany @criminalmindsgonewrong @ellegreenawy @alex-blakes @j3mily @jjsgirlfriend @blakes-dictionxry

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It was rare that the team was allowed any time off aside from weekends when they were in town, let alone a weekday to do something as simple as going to a carnival. Strauss had pulled some strings for Emily’s return to the BAU, classified it as team bonding when she informed them of their time off and told them not to stay up too late, they had work to do the next day.

They hadn’t considered a carnival until Emily and Alex had admitted to the team that they had never been to one — sitting around the conference table with the rest of the team staring at them in various states of confusion because really, who had never been to a carnival? Garcia immediately decided that there would be no other acceptable team bonding activity, and luckily for them they were right on time for the last day of the carnival.

JJ had always loved fall carnivals, loved the way the crisp autumn air blew the fallen orange leaves around her feet as she walked, the way it felt and sounded like magic as every footfall brought the crunching of leaves underfoot. She felt a goofy grin pull at the corners of her lips, her hand firmly in Alex’s as they walked leisurely along the pavement, watching Henry as he walked ahead of them.

There was a giddy happiness that coursed through her at getting to take Alex to her first carnival, JJ still smiling at the memory of watching her eyes light up as they drove into the parking lot. They were older, with children and previous marriages — a slow-moving divorce, in Alex’s case — and they didn’t have much room for firsts, and JJ knew this would be a memory they both held dear to them for years to come.

“He looks like he’s having fun.”

JJ could hear the subtle smile in Alex’s voice, breaking her from her thoughts. She squeezed her hand before looking up and watching Henry race Emily off to a ring toss game. He had missed his Aunt Em so much, the sight of him running off with her to go play brought the familiar lump of tears to the back of her throat.

“I knew he would. He missed her so much… I’m glad he can have today before we go back to normal life.” She laughed when Emily ruffled Jack and Henry’s hair, looked over at Alex pointedly. “And you? Are you having fun?”

“As long as I’m with you.”

Her answer was sincere, her tone even and measured but she knew that JJ would understand the true vulnerability behind it. She so rarely let her guard down around other people, especially after her separation from James, but somehow JJ was always able to pull her from the hidden recesses of her mind and get her laughing.

They continued walking in silence, JJ motioning to Hotch that she was veering off towards a stand, nodding when he signaled that he had eyes on Henry. She tugged Alex towards the cotton candy stand, felt her heart flutter when she noticed the soft grin on her girlfriend’s face out of the corner of her eye.

“I’m gonna go grab a bench for us.” Alex’s voice was soft, chilled fingertips grazing the palm of JJ’s hand. “Make sure you get the pink.”

Their relationship had never been built on grand gestures, rather small acts of kindness and words of affirmation uttered behind closed doors — the gentle whisper of words uttered against lips, the way Alex glanced at JJ in front of the team with eyes so full of love that they held a message. She didn’t need Alex to say anything at all — knew her better than the back of her own hand.

She shuffled up in line, eyes still trained on Alex as she sat on a bench, one leg folded over the other and hands in her lap. The sight melted JJ’s heart, the way Alex’s cream colored sweater contrasted her dark hair that hung over her shoulder in a loose ponytail, tied with a ribbon. She was so preoccupied watching Alex that she didn’t notice the man behind the counter clear his throat, calling her up to the stall.

“Oh, I’m sorry… let me get two of the pink and blue over there.”

He grunted, took her money before disappearing for a moment, rummaging in a corner JJ couldn’t quite see. She blew a kiss in Alex’s direction, felt her stomach flip with giddy butterflies when Alex mimed catching it, a goofy grin on her face. She turned back at just the right moment, the man thrusting her change and bags of cotton candy into her hand before mumbling a gruff thanks, already yelling for the next customer to come forward.

JJ remembered that Alex told her she loved cotton candy as a child, the way it melted on the tip of her tongue, felt her lips twitching up into a smile at the thought. She remembered the night they stayed up together long before their relationship had shifted to one laced with romantic intonation, both of them curled under a stiff hotel blanket and whispering silly secrets into the dark — both unable to sleep after they found yet another victim, this one hitting a little too close to home. She drank in every little detail of Alex in those nights, the soft side of her she never let show until the lights were turned out.

“What’s up?” Alex’s voice was soft, fingers grazing her forearm gently in a way that broke JJ from her thoughts.

“Nothing… just thinking.”

“Oh, that’s dangerous.” There was a playful lilt to Alex’s voice, lips curling up into a small smile as JJ sat beside her on the bench.

They were content to sit away from the action for a moment, just to watch the people go by. JJ watched Emily and Hotch, smiled to herself when she saw just how happy they were chasing after Jack and Henry. Emily was laughing — unrestrained, the kind of booming laughter JJ missed so much while she had been gone — her head tilted back and eyes sparkling as she reached for Hotch’s hand. He took it, pulled Emily into him and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before they pulled apart to help the boys with the water gun game they were playing, Emily’s hands on Henry’s smaller ones as she guided him.

With a soft smile on her lips, JJ brought a bite of cotton candy up to Alex’s mouth. Her lips wrapped around JJ’s fingers, corners of her lips twitching up into a smile as her tongue darted out to lave across the skin, collecting any small bits of sugar that were left. They soaked up the bit of silence amidst the chaos, before the kids or the team would come running and pull them away to another ride.

“Tastes good.”

“Yeah? I know how much you like pink.”

She couldn’t help but gaze into Alex’s eyes, the way they crinkled up in the corners as a wide smile spread across her face. Her eyes flicked up to meet JJ’s, sparkling with a hint of bashfulness behind her doe eyed gaze.

“Not just the candy.”

“Hm?”

“You.”

JJ felt her heart speed up at the tone of Alex’s voice, the way it was subtly playful — fingers catching her wrist gently and guiding JJ’s hand to bring another bite of cotton candy to her mouth. It was in these rare moments of calm with her — just sitting with each other and watching the world move around them — that JJ saw a more permanent future with Alex by her side.

In that moment, JJ saw lazy Sunday mornings around the breakfast table with Henry as a teenager, stuffing food into his mouth before running out the door to catch up with whatever friend he was going to hang out with for the day. She could see movie nights curled up on the couch as an older Henry rolled his eyes at the way his mother was laid across Alex’s lap. There were visions of Christmases spent together — building gingerbread houses with Alex, a dollop of dried icing on her cheek as they sang along to Christmas carols — and long walks down the street admiring the autumn leaves.

The sun had begun to disappear behind the clouds, setting rapidly into a pinkish orange glow and giving way to a chilled breeze. She turned, eyes catching Alex’s face in just the right light and felt her heart clench for just a second. She looked at peace — face relaxed and free of the worry lines that were almost permanently etched into her face — eyes trained on JJ’s side profile with a small hint of a smile playing on her lips.

“Hey.” They both startled when Emily approached, her voice soft and eyes kind. “Henry and Jack fell asleep, Rossi has them. A bunch of us were going to hop on the ferris wheel to watch the sunset… you in?”

“Sorry, I was just thinking.” JJ looked over at Alex, the way her eyes twinkled a little extra when Emily mentioned watching the sun set on the ferris wheel. “Yeah, we’ll be right there.”

“Hotch is saving us a place in line. Let’s ditch this shit with Rossi before they’re too far up in line.”

They half jogged over to the ferris wheel, Alex’s hand firmly in JJ’s, delightfully short of breath as a giddy wave of butterflies settled their way into her stomach. She had never been with someone who made her so lovestruck, made her feel like the little emoticon with heart eyes that JJ used so often — she wanted to drink in every second of the feeling, to never forget the fluttery happiness she felt in that moment.

“Nervous?”

“Sort of. I’ve never been on one before.”

“I’ll hold your hand the entire time.”

Alex smiled, a genuine grin directed at JJ, before turning back to look at the ferris wheel again, taller than she imagined one would be in person. The lights were on now, flashing and changing so rapidly that it made her eyes burn but she couldn’t look away. It was intoxicating — not just the wheel and lights, but the carnival itself. The ambient chatter in the background, hundreds of hushed conversations mingling with music and announcers yelling over the crowds brought a soft smile to her face, head quirking to the side as she tried to pick out any definitive sounds in the crowd.

She was pulled forward by JJ, the line moving again as another couple stepped into their seats and the worker started the ride up again. In front of them, Emily was arguing with Reid and Garcia about who got to go on first, Alex and JJ both laughing out loud at the way she was waving her arms around and trying to prove her point. In her defense, she had been dead and exiled to Paris after the trauma of Doyle — and in Spencer’s, she had left him behind and didn’t even say goodbye.

“Hey, I thought we agreed to not bring that up again.” JJ’s tone was firm, eyes narrowing at Emily in particular who mumbled out an embarrassed apology.

“How about you rock paper scissors for it?”

“I like the way you think.”

JJ stretched up on her toes, placed a soft kiss to Alex’s cheek before turning her attention back to Spencer and Emily, who were engaged in another bickering war. She shook her head, squeezing Alex’s hand gently in a sign of love — something they had adopted when they were still trying to keep their relationship a secret in front of the team, a simple gesture to say they loved each other.

By the time the ride operator opened the gate, Emily had declared herself the winner, but stepped aside and ushered Spencer forward with a sheepish smile on her face. The sight made JJ laugh, the way she walked back over to Hotch and let him wrap his arms around her from behind — having had no intention of actually making Spencer wait to get on the ride, not after she watched him buzz with excitement the entire time they had been in line.

He pulled Derek and Penelope through the gate with him, an uncharacteristically giddy smile tugging his lips upward and making the corners of his eyes crease with the sheer force of his unrestrained joy. JJ felt her lips quirk up into a smile of her own at the way both Derek and Penelope protested riding all together, but eventually let Spencer drag them onto the bench, all squeezing together as the ride operator clicked the bar down and started the ride again.

“He really has them wrapped around his finger, doesn’t he?”

JJ let out a small chuckle at Alex’s words, nodded as she watched the trio move up on the ride, all of them laughing and joking together.

“You say that like you wouldn’t move heaven and earth for that man.”

“He reminds me of my son… almost as much as Henry does.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. He had nine good years… and what is it they say about found family?”

They were interrupted once again by the metallic clang of the gate opening, Hotch and Emily sauntering hand in hand over to the ride car. They sat, Hotch’s arm around Emily’s shoulder and her head tucked into the crook of his neck as the ride started up again, and JJ felt herself swell with happiness at the way Hotch’s coat was around Emily, essentially dwarfing her in the material.

“They make a good couple.”

“Oh, yeah. I knew it would happen… especially once she went to Paris and there were no technicalities of the job keeping them from their feelings. He thinks I don’t know he was flying out to see her once a month.”

“He didn’t think Emily would tell you?”

“I think he was too in love with her to care what I thought.”

Alex made a soft sound of understanding, knowing the feeling all too well. When they had gotten together, in the early days of their relationship outside of falling into bed together for ‘stress relief’ on hard cases, she didn’t care if she lost her job — if she had to quit to just be with JJ on the off chance that it would work out — she felt such a strong pull to the other woman. Thankfully, the HR department was more than okay with their relationship — especially so after Emily came back engaged to Hotch — but it had always stuck at the back of her mind, exactly how much JJ meant to her.

“I love you too much to care.”

The words were laced with an intonation that made JJ’s head quirk to the side in question, wondered exactly what Alex meant and knew it wasn’t the place to ask — not with the way her voice was so soft, eyes soft and filled with such a fierce love that it made her head spin. To be loved so much was almost intoxicating, and she gave Alex’s hand another squeeze as the gate opened for them.

They sat perched on the edge of the bench seat, JJ’s head resting comfortably on Alex’s chest as the ride began to move, cranking them up into the night sky. The sky was a brilliant pink now, both of them transfixed by the sight, still entwined in more than a simple clasp of hands, but fingers laced together in a sign of love.

She loves me. She completely, wholly loves me.

JJ caught herself looking upwards for a second, a warm happiness filling her chest as she watched Emily lean into Hotch’s kiss, her hand on his stubbly cheek. It felt like she was watching a private moment, the way she leaned into him with so much love and adoration that it was almost too much to handle.

“Alex?”

“Hm?”

“I love you completely, wholly.”

“And I, you, my darling.” She paused for a moment, looked out at the carnival below them and back to JJ, a twinkle in her eyes. “Thank you… for bringing me here.”

They were paused at the top of the ride now, passengers disembarking their ride car below and giving them just enough time to look out at the view — the pink sky that cast them in the perfect glow, and accompanied with the lights and sounds of the carnival, it almost felt like they were in a movie.

“I’m honored.”

There was a gravely sincerity to JJ’s voice, and Alex knew she didn’t just mean it in regards to the carnival. It was an honor to love her — to share her dinner table with her, to share a bed with her while away on cases or the rare night that they could stay over at the other’s home.

“Jennifer…”

Their breath hitched, JJ leaning forward and letting her free hand cup the back of Alex’s neck, pulling them together and pressing their lips against each other. It was as though time was standing still for them, the shrill laughter of children and the music from the carnival below them fading into nothing but background noise — nothing mattered but the press of their lips, the way one simple action held so much love and tenderness.

When they finally broke apart, both gasping for air, the ride jolted to a start again, their car descending. They could hear the shrill laughter of Spencer and Penelope, no doubt at something Morgan had told them — looked down and noticed Emily and Hotch cuddled against each other, her shoulders shaking in a silent cry as he held her, rubbed his hand in circles on her upper back.

“I wish we could stay here forever.”

“Hm?” JJ looked up again, felt herself melt when she gazed into Alex’s eyes. “Oh, me too. Aside from the chill… I’m starting to regret my wardrobe choice.”

With a soft laugh, one lacking the ‘I told you so’ she so desperately wanted to say, Alex wrapped her arm around JJ’s back, pulling her girlfriend into her and pressing a soft kiss to her hair. She let herself simply be in the moment, let herself be aware of every point of contact between her and JJ — from the way her hand connected with her shoulder right down to their knees bumping against each other — as she watched the carnival lights come closer and closer as they descended, knew that when they stepped off the ride they would be back to the chaos they both secretly loved so much.

“Jayje?”

“Mhmm?”

“I think I’m ready to ask him for a divorce.”

It was a ghost of a whisper uttered into the chilled evening air as their car came to a stop at the loading station — a statement so full of hope and love that it made JJ’s stomach flip. She didn’t dare mention it in front of the rest of the team who was already waiting for them at the exit gate — simply turned to Alex and pressed her lips against hers once more before exiting through the gate and joining the team again, a soft, proud little smile on her lips that she knew she wouldn’t be able to shake for the rest of the night.

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 10: Truth or Truth

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Stay Mine)

…in which the truth comes out.

Word count: 6.6k

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Wattpad link (Thea as Y/N)

Well, this is one crazy chapter 👀 Let me know what you think because I’m thirsty for feedback. But also don’t be to harsh on me I’m fragile.

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The last Sunday of the month. Laura Hilfgard’s flat. Y/N’s book was almost finished and ready for submission, and she was at the top of her game. She’d been putting off everything else to write, and for the first time in her life, everything was happening according to plan. Last year’s Y/N would’ve spent every passing moment waiting for something to go wrong. The writer-to-be Y/N, however, was living her best life.

“Are you sure you want to omit the confrontation scene in chapter ten?” Laura asked once they’d stopped for a tea break.

Y/N stirred her tea slowly, still contemplating her handwritten notes. “You don’t need drama in every chapter. It’s not realistic.”

“It’s fiction,” said Laura. Y/N glanced up with an eyebrow lifted, and the agent exhaled as she raised her hands, palms out. “Sorry, ma’am. Your book.”

Blowing into her tea, Y/N closed her pink notebook and took a sip. “Sorry, it’s just the story is based on what happened to me.”

“Oh?” Laura blinked, sounding both surprised and intrigued.

“I changed a few things,” Y/N said. “But yeah, my boyfriend used to be my neighbour. We met in his treehouse twelve years ago.”

“Your boyfriend is Harry Styles, right?”

“You know him?”

“Everyone does.” Laura stopped stirring her tea to add more sugar with the same spoon. She’d been stirring and adding sugar for the last five minutes, which made Y/N wonder if she was going to drink at all. “I’ve heard so many stories about you two. You make a fine couple.”

“You’ve heard stories about us?” Y/N carefully set down her cup and smiled questioningly at the woman. “From whom?”

“Everyone,” Laura said and finally brought the cup to her red lips. Y/N watched Laura take the first sip of her overly sweet tea, and the only thing that came to Y/N’s mind was the likelihood of a connection between Laura and Harry.

Impossible. Harry would never have interfered. Not after their fight about John Conall. Besides, Blake had been the one who’d suggested her to Laura, not Harry. So how could Harry have possibly done anything?

Or could he?

What if he’d contacted Laura right after Blake had given the manuscript to her? No, Harry would never lie to Y/N. Harry, of all people, would understand how much this meant to her, that she’d accomplished everything on her own without his help. Harry, of all people, would believe in her.

Once she got back to her flat, she found herself pacing back and forth in her living room, clutching her phone to her chest as she tried to decide if she should just call and ask him. Him saying he had no connection to her literary agent would put Y/N out of her misery. But that would prove that she didn’t trust him, and he’d be so angry, and they would fight again. Things had been going so well recently she didn’t want to mess it up. Although there was a tiny part of her doubting everything, mostly herself…

Her phone rang, and she jumped. It was Harry. Biting her nail, she slid her thumb across the screen to answer and tried her best not to sound like she’d been overthinking. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey, are you working?”

“I just got back from Laura’s.”

“Is the book done?”

“Yup. We’ve submitted it to some publishers, and all we have to do now is wait.”

“That’s my girl.”

The question about Laura was on the tip of her tongue. She bit her nail instead and took a seat on the couch as he went on, “Don’t hate me for what I’m about to say, okay?”

“Okay.” She kept her tone light and neutral while unconsciously picking at a thread on her skirt.

“I forgot that I’d have dinner with my dad. I know I said I’d take you out tonight–”

“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” she said quickly and sat on her hand to stop her fidgeting. “You’ve been spending quite a lot of time with your dad.”

“Yeah,” he sighed contentedly. “Now that I don’t have to hide it from my mum or Gemma anymore, I can support Dad and Emi without feeling bad about it.”

“Support? As in...financially?” She hoped she didn’t sound too judgy.

He was quiet for a full second. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Harry…”

“No, hear me out. They owed the bank a lot of money because of the accident. I only helped them pay their debt. It’s not like I’m buying them a car or a house.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled. “You’ve been giving them so many expensive things, and Isaac told me you’ve also been helping Emi get back to acting.”

“ ‘Help’ as in I got her to castings. She still needs to audition like everyone else. I don’t ask directors to give her roles that she’s incompetent at, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“I’m not implying anything.” Maybe she was. “It’s just...you can’t live their lives for them, Harry.”

“I don’t. I’m only trying to help.”

“You can help, and you should. Just don’t overspend on them.”

“They’re family.”

She almost told him ‘not really’ and ‘I still don’t trust them’, but then let it go once he fell silent. “That wasn’t a fight, was it?” she asked.

“Of course not, kid.” His low laugh brought her a sense of relief. She straightened before leaning into the couch, staring at one of the cracks on her ceiling.

“I gotta go now. Talk to you later?” he said cautiously.

So she kept her tone light. “Sure. Have fun acting.”

“Have fun writing. Love you.”

She giggled as he kissed the phone.

“I love you, too.”

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Since Gemma ran an online business and therefore wasn’t tied to a desk and a chair, she had decided to stay in London for a couple of days. Those couple of days had turned into two weeks and felt like two freaking months. Time slowed down when she was with Isaac; not that she complained.

She’d been with him constantly since they’d left Holmes Chapel. She wasn’t sure what they were. Friends? Way past that. Lovers? Not quite there. Friends who kissed? Well, sure, that might be a suitable label for their ‘relationship’. Gemma hated labels anyway, so it didn’t matter.

“Have you spoken to him?” Isaac asked, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. They were at his house, curled up in his bed, watching Netflix. Almost like a happy couple.

“Harry?” Her eyebrows furrowed as one of the characters was being brutally murdered on the screen. Isaac leaned forward and pressed pause right before the dead body collapsed.

Gemma gasped, “Hey!”

“You’ve already watched this,” he chuckled and removed the laptop from her lap before she could resume the movie.

“Still, that’s the best scene!”

He shook his head, placed the laptop on the other side of him and turned around, facing her. “Have you spoken to Asher?”

“No. He’s probably forgotten about me.”

“Gem…”

“Can we not mention my ex at this moment?”

“He’s not your ex yet, and you don’t want to mention him at any moment.” Isaac took her hand and brought it to his lap. “You need to break up with him.”

“He already broke up with me.”

“He said it was a break.”

She groaned and hugged a pillow to her chest. “He said it so he could hook up with whoever he wanted. He’s done this before, disappeared for a week or two. I was pretty sure he was hooking up with his secretary at the time, then he came back and acted like nothing was wrong. I just...I was stupid and I was in love with him. But not anymore. I’ve had enough.”

“So you’re just gonna wait until he reaches out to you, and then break up with him?”

“Yes. I want it to hurt.”

Isaac screwed up his face. “Why?”

“What do you mean why? After all that he’s done to me?”

“Do you still have feelings for him?” He tried to sound unbothered but she could see right through him. “Is that the reason why you’re so determined to make him feel equally bad?”

“No!” She shook her head, squeezing his hand. “I just don’t want him to think he’s so important. I’m not gonna reach out first. Now can we please get back to the movie?”

“Fine,” he huffed and brought the laptop back to his lap.

As she snuggled up to him and he draped his arm around her shoulders again, the buzzing of his phone on the nightstand interrupted them. She groaned when he withdrew himself from her.

“It could be Lee,” he said. Lee was his manager.

But it wasn’t Lee. She could see it on his face as he put down his phone as soon as he’d read the messages.

“Who’s that?”

“Your half-sister,” he said, drawing her back into his arms.

She lay her head on his chest, her eyebrows pulled together. “She’s still your model?”

“We had our last shoot yesterday. If you’d come, you could have met her.”

“It’s so weird that I haven’t.” She tilted her head up to look at his face. “Do you think she’s scared of me? Because I’m not as easy-going as Harry.”

“Probably.” A grin stretched his pink lips as she weakly hit his chest.

“Did you ever fancy her?” She arched an eyebrow so he mimicked her expression.

“Are you jealous of your own sister?”

“Half-sister.”

Her irritated tone got him laughing. “I mean, she is pretty.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, gazing at the ceiling. “Maybe a little.”

Gemma poked his side and he jerked away, doubling over and protecting his sensitive spots from her tickling. They nearly fell off the bed from laughing too hard. Somehow he ended up on his stomach and she on his back, their cheeks together.

He whispered, “Do you think Harry would like the idea of us?”

“Should we call and ask him?”

“Gemma.”

She giggled as his face turned serious. “Of course. You’re his best friend, right?”

“I don’t know about that. He didn’t talk to me until Y/N and I broke up.”

“That’s because she’s Y/N. He didn’t let me come to the treehouse because it was ‘their place’.” She rolled her eyes. “But it was mine first. Dad built it for me.” When she caught him gazing at her, she returned a look just as bemused. “What?”

“You said ‘Dad’. Not Winton.”

“Oh.” She rolled onto her back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Isaac flipped over to lie on his side, his head propped up on his hand. She waited for another question, but he didn’t ask, so she went on, “I still won’t visit him or even talk to him. But I guess there was a time when he was good, and I should give the old him some credits. It’s easier to do that, now that I no longer have to deal with the consequences of him leaving.” She turned to smile at him. “Now that I’ve found someone who really cares about me.”

“Who’s that? Is it me?” He acted shocked and she shoved him away, cackling.

“Come on.” She sat up, grabbed the laptop and beckoned him over. “We still have to finish this terrible movie.”

.

.

.

A week later, Y/N came to Laura’s office after she’d finished two classes in the morning. Laura’s assistant told her Laura had taken a day off because she was sick. “She’s rescheduled the meeting with the publisher this afternoon,” said the assistant. “I was gonna call you but Ms Hilfgard said she’d tell you herself. She’s probably forgotten.”

Weird. Laura never forgot. She was like a machine when it came to business stuff, and Y/N had always wondered where that woman got all that energy. Laura must be very sick. Y/N normally would stay away from other people’s business, but she’d been inseparable from Laura recently, which gave her a sense of responsibility for her agent. She should probably check in on Laura.

“Is she at her flat today?” she asked the assistant, who seemed unsure.

“I think so. Would you like me to call her for you?”

“No, thank you. I’ll do it myself.”

Y/N adjusted her bag on her shoulder, wished the woman a good day and ambled out of the room. She tried calling Laura when she got into the lift, but Laura didn’t answer the phone. A throb in her stomach led her to believe something was wrong.

Everyone got sick once in a while so Laura couldn’t be an exception; she was human after all. But Y/N’s gut feelings were always correct. And if she chose to ignore them, it’d be her fault when something actually happened to Laura, who lived all by herself and had no close friend or family, none that Y/N knew of.

“Laura! It’s me, Y/N!” Y/N banged on the door after she’d rung the doorbell many times and there was no answer. “Laura! Your assistant told me you were sick. I came to check on you.”

Just as she imagined herself kicking down the door like those badass heroines in movies, she heard the sound of it being unlocked, the handle turned, and the door was opened. Her chest caved when Laura appeared, holding the door just wide enough to reveal half of her face. She was in her bathrobe without any makeup on, her skin marked with freckles, her lips dry, her eyes dark and weary, and her hair wasn’t pulled up into a neat bun like it always was. She looked like she’d gone through hell and back.

“Are you all right?” Y/N asked and immediately realised how stupid she’d sounded; of course, Laura wasn’t all right. Look at her.

“I’m very sorry, Y/N. You shouldn’t have come here.” Laura sounded spacey. The smell of alcohol on her breath was too strong. She held Y/N’s gaze, expecting Y/N to leave, but once she was sure Y/N wasn’t going anywhere, Laura stepped aside and opened the door a bit wider, just enough for Y/N to slip in.

The door was closed. They were standing in the semidarkness; there was still a bit of light coming through the dark blue curtain of the floor-to-ceiling windows. The evident of Laura’s despair was lying on the white carpet in the middle of the room – empty bottles after a wild alcohol-binge. She wasn’t sick. She was drunk.

Laura brushed past a bewildered Y/N and careened toward the sofa. The sofa legs creaked ominously under her weight.

“As you can see, I’m pretty much alive,” she said to the ceiling, an arm placed over her eyes. “You may leave now.”

Y/N wanted to leave. Whatever Laura was dealing with had nothing to do with her. She’d only come to make sure her agent was still alive, and Laura was just drunk for some unknown reason, but that was all Y/N should know. She should leave. Her brain told her to leave, but her guts told her Laura needed help.

She huffed and came to stand at one end of the sofa. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”

“It has nothing to do with you, Y/N.”

“You rescheduled a meeting with the publisher without asking me – your author, and then lied about being sick when you’ve been drinking your arse off. So yeah, it has a lot to do with me.”

As Laura didn’t answer, Y/N picked up the woman’s arm and tried to haul her out of the sofa. She resisted the effort, weakly pushing Y/N away.

“Fine. I’m leaving.” Y/N folded her arms over her chest. “Call me when you’ve sobered up.”

“I now see why he’s crazy about you.”

The words froze Y/N to the spot. She slowly turned around and backed away from the front door to return to her previous spot beside Laura. He? Who was he?

Laura’s eyelids fluttered like she was going to fall asleep, but then she continued, “He chose you over me because you’re young and beautiful and ambitious and kind…He chose you over me because...I’m the opposite…”

Y/N’s heart, head, and stomach pulsated at once. “Who...who are you talking about?”

“Blake.”

The name left her in shock. She blinked at Laura, feeling disoriented for a second. She hoped Laura was only messing with her. Laura and Blake? No fucking way.

“He ended it because of you,” Laura went on despite Y/N’s startlement. “We weren’t really together, but he made it clear that we’d never be anything.” She laughed loudly and mirthlessly, her thick dark hair bouncing on her slim shoulders. “You have a boyfriend, and he still chose you over me. I would call him stupid but what would it make me?” Then she glanced up, her glossy eyes filled with wondering and desperation.

Meanwhile, Y/N was stuck in rearranging her thoughts. Everything made sense – Blake had been their connection since the beginning, and Laura had heard so much about Y/N and Harry – but Y/N couldn’t bring herself to believe any of it. She clutched the strap of her handbag and took in the sight of Laura, trying to look for the badass woman hiding underneath.

“I think you should go,” Laura said to her feet and gestured toward the door. “I’ll call you once I’ve sobered up.”

“Do you have anyone else I can call–”

“I don’t need anyone, Y/N. Leave!”

“Okay,” Y/N murmured as she squared her shoulders, gripped the strap of her bag, and marched to the front door.

.

.

.

Thud Thud Thud

“Blake! We need to talk, Blake!”

Blake opened the door and sprang back before Y/N accidentally hit his face with her fist. “Did you sleep with Laura?” she bellowed before he could question, and he blinked as if she was speaking alien language.

“Laura Hilfgard,” her voice dropped, “My fucking agent. For fuck’s sake! Did you sleep with her?”

He still didn’t answer but the look on his face said it all. He couldn’t admit something so horrible.

“Goddamn it, Blake! Fuck!” she roared into her hands, her chest growing hot. When he tried to touch her, she pushed him away and stabbed a finger at his face. “You lied to me!”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m so sorry–”

She held up a hand to stop him. “Oh, don’t fucking apologise to me. I’m not gonna accept it. Apologise to Laura.”

“We’re over.”

“Doesn’t fucking matter, Blake! It’s fucking sick that you slept with her so she would sign me! Fuck you!”

“Y/N!” He caught her wrist and she whipped around to fight him, but his fingers were quick to clasp her other wrist.

“Let me go!”

“Listen to me!” He shook her to get her to stop, and she did, panting and glowering at him. “I didn’t sleep with her so she’d sign you. Yes, I’d...I'd been sleeping with her before. That was how I knew her. I asked her to read your book and she loved it.”

“She only ‘loved’ it because she loved you, Blake!” Y/N yanked her hands back, tears welling up in her eyes. “You broke her and she cancelled the meeting with the publisher. She’s gonna drop me!”

“She won’t. I’ll talk to her–”

“I don’t fucking need your help, Blake. Just…” Y/N stepped back, holding up her hand to stop him from getting any closer. “Just don’t fucking talk to me again.”

“Y/N, please, hey.” He strode forward and got between her and her door, his desperate grey eyes begging her to hear him out. “I swear to you I didn’t do this on purpose. I just wanted to help. You were so desperate and I wanted you to be happy.”

“I was desperate but I wasn’t miserable,” she said through her gritted teeth. “You want me to be happy but what you did was awful, Blake. You made me feel like a talentless piece of shit, that if my boyfriend doesn’t get me a job, then my ex-boyfriend has to sleep with someone for it. God, what is wrong with you?”

“At least I gave your story to Laura and made her read it. Your boyfriend just fucking told John Conall to sign you. He doesn’t even care.”

“Don’t talk about Harry that way. He’s a thousand times better than you.” Then she froze. “How do you even know about Conall?”

“Laura knows him,” Blake said to his feet. “They talked.”

“Fuck this.”

She pulled out her keys and gestured him to get out of the way, but he refused to comply, shaking his head. She had never seen Blake Roman so despondent, and she didn’t like this side of him at all.

“I still love you, Y/N,” he said despite the fact that those were the last words she wanted to hear right now. “I’m sorry I left, but in the last three years, I couldn’t stop thinking about us, and how we could’ve figured out a way to be together instead of giving up. Then I met you here, and...and I–Listen, I’ve been trying to make it up to you–”

“Blake, please…” she breathed, her eyes tight.

“I know you still have feelings for me, Y/N. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have spent so much time with me. You rarely mentioned him when we were together. We have so much in common and we fit.”

“You’re wrong.” She stared dagger at him and unclenched her fists, taking a deep breath. “I rarely mentioned him because I didn’t want to hurt you. I knew you still had feelings for me. I guess I was wrong to want to keep you in my life as a friend when you don’t belong there anymore.”

“I do, Y/N. I do,” he fretted while she kept shaking her head.

“You don’t. You just...you just felt like childhood, which I can’t keep dwelling on anymore. Both of us need to grow up.” She inclined her head, arms wrapped around herself. “I’m sorry, Blake. I don’t think we can be friends anymore. Not after this.”

“Y/N.”

She didn’t look at him and rushed down the stairs, hoping he wouldn’t go after her. And he didn’t. She came dashing out of the building, her eyes prickling with tears. She couldn’t believe she’d doubted Harry and trusted Blake. She felt like such a fool. She hated herself.

Stopping on the side of the road, she fished her phone out of her handbag to call Harry. But then her screen flashed on with the notification of ‘11 missed calls from Laura H’. Her chest throbbed. She called Laura back.

Laura didn’t answer.

.

.

.

When Gemma stepped out of the lift, fumbling around in her bag for her room key, she almost didn’t notice the man waiting for her in the hallway.

“Gem.”

His voice froze her to the spot. She shot her head up, her heart rate increasing as Asher walked up to her holding a rose bouquet. He was dressed in a fine ocean-blue suit, his dark hair pushed back, the strong scent of his cologne so unbearable. He looked like he was here for a photoshoot or a red carpet event. When he cracked a smile, she responded with a grimace.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, unable to take her eyes off the flowers. The last time he’d got her flowers had been their first Valentine’s Day together; things had gone downhill after that.

“I came to see you,” he said. “To apologise.”

He held the flowers toward her with both hands, and she pushed them right back to him, shaking her head.

“I don’t need your apology,” she said. “You made it clear that day on the phone that this was over and I’m thankful for it.”

“I said ‘a break’.”

“You don’t get to call a break and come back whenever you feel like it,” Gemma said in annoyance. “That’s not how a relationship works.”

She gently pushed right past him to unlock the door. Right as she opened it, he slipped straight into her room. She stared at him, speechless. “Asher, leave.”

“I want to talk, please.”

Frustrated and annoyed, she slammed the door behind her, stormed toward the bed and flung her bag on it. He stood by the door with that stupid bouquet, waiting for his chance to speak.

“I can offer you a deal,” he blurted as she turned around. “You don’t have to get back with me. We can go separate ways after this.”

“Or we can go separate ways now.” She gestured to the door.

He pretended like he hadn’t heard that. “My father really likes you,” he said. “He thinks you keep me grounded. So I think...if you ask him for the investment, he’ll most likely say yes. I'll pay you. Please help me, Gem.”

“No!” Gemma put her hands on her hips, her mouth quirked in annoyance. “You’ve got some nerves to ask me that. We are not getting back together. Go find someone else dumb enough to help you.”

Asher’s mouth fell open. He must have come here thinking she would burst into tears and run into his arms the moment she saw him and forgive him like she always had. If so, he was destined for disappointment.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked. “Why are you like this all of a sudden?”

“Why do I have common sense all of a sudden?” She cocked her head. “Maybe I’ve finally found someone who appreciates me, and is not only with me because he can use me for his own benefit.”

Asher was shallow but he wasn’t stupid. Realization soon dawned on his face. “Have you been cheating on me?”

Before he’d come here, she’d imagined this moment to be extremely awkward, but now she was full of rage. “You and I are not together anymore, Asher,” she snapped. “But well, I did kiss him once when we were ‘together’.”

“You fucking bitch,” Asher bellowed as he threw himself at her. Everything happened so quickly her brain failed to catch on. The next thing she knew, she was on the floor, gripping the edge of the table, her head in pain. She spotted the horror on her ex’s face before he broke into a run out of the room, so she reached for her head and looked at her own fingers.

Blood.

He’d pushed her.

Shocked and dizzy, she held the table for support to stand up and hobbled into the bathroom where she grabbed a hand towel, wetted it and tried to clean the wound on her forehead. That was when she heard the door open and close. She spun around, horrified. It was just Isaac.

“What happened?!” He rushed toward her, held her face between his cold palms.

“Asher came here…” was all she could say while shaking her head, feeling herself going unsteady.

“Did he fucking hit you?” Isaac ground his jaw, his eyes turning dark.

She shuddered at the thought and felt hot tears in the wells of her eyes. “I think he pushed me,” she mumbled.

“Fuck!”

She fisted his shirt, afraid that he might run after Asher, who must have been long gone by now. But Isaac didn’t bother to ask about the arsehole. He inspected the wound on her forehead and encircled his arms around her. “Come on,” he said. “I’ll take you to the hospital.”

.

.

.

“Can I see her?” Y/N asked.

“Not yet,” the nurse answered.

“Is she okay?”

“She will be,” the nurse told Y/N while scribbling something on the clipboard. She’d asked Y/N a bunch of questions about Laura, most of which Y/N had answered with “I don’t know”. She didn’t know if Laura was a regular drinker or if she often drank to drunkenness. Y/N only knew what she’d witnessed – Laura blacked out on her bedroom floor with empty bottles scattering all around.

Laura had been taken to the emergency room where they gave her fluids. The doctor had briefed Y/N, saying Laura had got alcohol poisoning from her alcohol binge, and if Y/N hadn’t found her – if she’d locked the door after Y/N had left – then something terrible could have happened tonight. Y/N wasn’t sure if Laura would be okay, but things could have gone worse and she was grateful it hadn’t.

“Is there any family member that we could call?” asked the nurse, who was finally making eye contact with Y/N.

“I-I don’t know. I’m just her client,” Y/N said, rubbing her palms together nervously. “Maybe uhm...maybe I can call her assistant.”

“It’s fine. She’s in a better condition now. We’ll just get information from her when she wakes up.”

Y/N thanked the nurse and sat in one of the chairs in the hallway. She thought of calling Harry but didn’t have any motivation to do it, so she sat with her head against the wall, watching the nurses’ station while she waited for better news.

She didn’t know what time it was. She was already fatigued. She felt herself drifting away when a voice pulled her right back.

“Y/N?”

She looked up. Isaac and Gemma were just as shocked to see her. Gemma didn’t look like herself; she was wearing an oversized black hoodie with the hood on, covering her forehead. Y/N didn’t want to assume the hoodie was Isaac’s, but something told her it wasn’t Gemma’s.

“What...are you guys doing here?” Y/N slowly rose from her seat, her eyes switching back and forth between Isaac and Gemma. “Together.”

Isaac worked his jaw, unable to get any word out as he looked over at Gemma imploringly, and she heaved a sigh. Y/N was losing patience with the suspense when Gemma pulled back the hood to reveal her bandaged forehead.

“Oh my God, what happened?” Y/N gasped, pushing past Isaac to grab Gemma’s shoulders. “Did you get into an accident?”

“Y-Yeah.” Gemma looked unconfident, her eyes searching for Isaac’s again. Something was wrong, and neither of them wanted to tell Y/N what it was. She would have been mad if she didn’t have her own problems to worry about. What a crazy day it had been.

She was going to ask Isaac why he’d been the one to take Gemma to the hospital, but he went first. “Why are you here?”

“A friend of mine got into trouble,” she said. It was only fair that she got to be ambiguous too.

“Alice?” Gemma looked concerned.

“No.”

Isaac grimaced. “Eddie?”

“No!” Y/N rolled her eyes at their surprised reactions. “You guys really assume I have only two friends in London?”

“You do have only two friends in London,” Isaac said, beaming, “Besides us.”

Y/N assumed he meant him, Niall, and Harry. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but she wasn’t going to give him that.

For the second time, she meant to ask why he’d taken Gemma here, but right as she opened her mouth, a nurse showed up with a clipboard.

“Miss Styles," she called.

“Yes?” Gemma whipped around as the nurse sauntered right past her like she wasn’t there.

Confused and surprised, they all watched the nurse head toward the end of the hallway, where sat a brunette with her headphones on. Her hair was covering her face as she was looking down at her phone. The nurse had to tap her on the shoulder to get her attention. She glanced up, eyes popping out the moment she saw them. Y/N, Isaac, and Gemma looked like they’d seen a ghost.

“Emilia Styles,” repeated the nurse since Emilia wasn’t looking at her. “You can see your mother now.”

Y/N glanced over at Isaac and Gemma, who looked as if they’d seen a ghost. The nurse said something else to Emilia and went into one of the rooms. Emilia told the nurse she’d be right back as she shoved her headphones into her tote bag, got up and made way toward Y/N, Isaac and Gemma.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” she said with a pretentious smile; it was the same smile she always wore, but it was only until this moment that Y/N realized how pompous it was.

“Drop the act,” Y/N snapped. “Are you gonna fucking tell us why you’re here? Or should we go ask your mum who is still ALIVE?”

Isaac held her back by the arm before she could even consider doing something to Emilia. She didn’t want to get violent; she wasn’t that type of person. Not yet.

“Fine.” The fake smile disappeared as Emilia stood taller despite having been exposed. “My mum’s alive,” she calmly confessed. “She has cancer, and my dad doesn’t work anymore so I have to take care of them.”

“With Harry’s money?” Gemma snarled. Y/N believed if Gemma’s head wasn’t hurt, she would have already torn Emilia to pieces.

“I didn’t take anything Harry didn’t want to give.” Emilia crossed her arms and lifted her chin, which made Y/N more shocked than angry; she didn’t know it was possible to be this shameless.

“So everything was fake?” Y/N asked. “You made up a nice little story calling your mum crazy for burning down the house and–”

“It was my dad,” Emilia said with her eyes closed as she sucked in an unsteady breath and opened her eyes at the long exhalation. “He was drunk and he set the house on fire. That was after my mum had been diagnosed with cancer. He was very upset because we didn’t have enough money for the treatment. I had to drop out and use my college money for it.” Then she swallowed and looked over at Isaac, who’d been speechless the whole time. “I’m sorry, Isaac. But when we met I recognised you right away. I knew you were Harry’s friend, and I saw you as an opportunity. We had to lie because Harry didn’t trust us at first; he thought Dad was a terrible man–”

“No decent man would lie to his own son to steal his money!”

“We weren’t stealing!” Emilia half-shouted at Gemma then frantically looked around. A few nurses stared at them with concern but no one attempted to interfere. Emilia turned back to Gemma and lowered her voice, “We were gonna tell him everything.”

“When?” Y/N scoffed. “When your mum gets better? Or when you finally become a successful actress living off Harry’s fame?”

“I started with a lie and I had to go through it.” Emilia huffed, her forehead creased. “Things have got so much better since Harry came into our lives. He paid off our bank debt, for Dad’s medicines, for our food. We never asked him for more money. We simply sold the expensive stuff he bought for us as gifts to pay the hospital bills for Mum. I still have to go to work, but now I can also go to auditions. And Harry doesn’t lose anything. He loves Dad, and he’s rich anyway.”

“Harry worked for everything he owns now,” Gemma hissed. “Your dad doesn’t get to live on the money of the son he left and tried to steal from.”

Emilia’s lips quirked in a scornful manner. “You’re just bitter because Dad doesn’t love you.”

Y/N’s gaze jumped to Gemma, whose face was white with shock. She didn’t expect that. None of them expected that. It was so hurtful. Because it was the truth...

“It was my plan. Dad just went along with it,” Emilia went on despite Gemma’s fists shaking as she refrained herself from tackling Emilia to the floor. Emilia knew Y/N and Gemma couldn’t do anything to her in a hospital hallway, and Isaac would never lay hands on a woman. She considered Gemma’s face. “He just wanted my mum to get better. We knew Harry wouldn’t help us if he had to go behind yours and your mum’s back, so I had to reach out to you first. I had to gain your approval.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Gemma sneered and waved her hand when Emilia gazed at her alarmedly. “Do go on. When will we get to the part where you’re forgivable?”

“Say anything you want, but I did it for a reason,” Emilia murmured, her eyes piercing at Gemma. “What are your reasons for cheating on your boyfriend and sleeping with your brother’s best friend?”

Gemma growled and launched herself at Emilia, who jumped right back as Isaac dragged Gemma away. A few nurses had gathered to watch them, unsure if it was necessary to call security. The four of them weren’t really fighting or being loud, but Y/N wasn’t sure how long they could maintain peace.

“Did I say something wrong?” Emilia looked at Isaac, whose eyes fastened on Y/N’s face at once.

“You two?” Y/N stared at him and Gemma in disbelief.

“Asher and I are over, Y/N,” Gemma said, reaching for Y/N’s hand. Y/N let her hold it, only because Y/N was too shocked to move.

“Does Harry know?” she asked quietly. Gemma and Isaac both shook their heads.

“Guess I’m not the only one who lied to Harry after all.”

Isaac shot Emilia a glare even though his features were incredibly calm. “Why haven’t you told him?”

“This isn’t a game of Truth or Dare,” she told him. “I’m not gonna blackmail you into doing something for me in return for my silence. I’m not a good person but I’m not that awful. I just wanted to help my mum. I don’t care what it takes.” Her voice suddenly dropped as she took a step further from them. “And I really liked you, Isaac. I���m sorry.”

Y/N could tell Isaac had a lot he wanted to say to Emilia, but he kept his lips tight because she wasn’t worth it. From the way Emilia was looking at him, she must regret lying to him the most. What about Harry? Harry didn’t deserve this. He’d been nothing but kind to her and Winton.

“Miss Y/L/N?” a nurse interjected. She was the one who’d spoken to Y/N about Laura. “Your friend is awake. Would you like to see her?” she told Y/N, who sighed in relief. At least this night didn’t go all the way down a pit of despair.

“I have to go,” she told Isaac and Gemma.

Isaac caught Y/N’s elbow before she could follow the nurse. “You’re not gonna tell Harry, are you?”

“I’m not gonna do the hard work for you three,” she said, giving all of them – even Emilia – a disappointed look. “You’re all going to tell him tomorrow. Not tonight. I don’t want his night to be ruined as well.” Then she fixed her eyes on Emilia, whose face was blank; either she hid her emotions really well, or she didn’t feel like any normal person would. Y/N stabbed a finger at Emilia, her voice rough, “You and your family better stay the fuck away from my boyfriend, or you’re gonna have to deal with his lawyer, and it won’t be pretty.”

The other nurses looked scared when Y/N caught them watching. She couldn’t even work up a smile as she mouthed the word “sorry” and marched right past them.

[popculturebuffet]

The Loud House Reviews: The Cow-Pie Kid and Saved by the Spell

Welcome back Loudiacs.. I .. don’t know what the fandom calls themselves. And given I dont’ know anyone personally in the fandom and the going into the tag is like living in a living nightmare.. it’s easier to keep workshopping a name till either someone tells me or I find one that sounds right. Loudites.. there we go that didn’t take long. Point is we’re back in The Loud House, In The Loud House for the first regular coverage, i.e. when I cover a show as It comes out of the season. And I was lucky enough to actually see the episode same day this time and with a promo that at least gives me images to work with, so yeah, i’m pretty pumped. And not just because I can cross this one off because SOMEBODY has a birthday tommorow.. no not me, that was last month. 

There ya go. But yeah the show’s back. I’m excited, your excited, i’m scared because nick dosen’t give a clear schedule out ahead of time so i’m left wondering when one’s going to pop up and when to get it on my schedule now I have one... it’s a good time. Seriously though Nick needs to get their scheduling in order. So i’m happy to be back, your happy to have me here, but probably not happy to have spoilers so let’s take this under the cut and we can talk about cow pies, magic, and ... how this block is weirdly almost all lincoln episodes. 

The Cow-Pie Kid:  Yeah.. this was the only bit from cow pie kid I could find. Tons of stuff to mine from for saved by the spell. Nothing for that one. Weird.  Anyways our story opens with Lynn’s baseball team, who we’ve met before.. and include friends who have played other sports with her and that guy she had a crush on for all of five minutes because the writers kinda forgot L is for Love happened for anyone but Luna and Luann. 

Okay look MOST of the love intrests introduced there were not great and while Lincoln needs one NOW, at the time he really did not as the Ronnie Anne thing had not, and still has not, been properly resolved. Still vastly prefer him with Stella and her with Sid, i’m just saying closure would be nice.  Look i’m getting off topic point is one besides Sam, who was great out of the gate and not just for being gay.. though that was a lot of it, and Benny, whose objectively a really sweet kid and damn likeable. Luaggie shippers feel free to boo me, I understand.. dosen’t change my mind or the fact Poly exists to fix that. I mean why not both I ask you.  Besides them, we had Chazz, a loveable chubby guy who Leni was into and worked at clothing store and knew his fashion stuff. and was charmed by her romantic gesture. He just seemd sweet and it was implied via background stuff they were still dating.. but he hasnt’ shown up since despite her working AT the mall and that being her main arc for the last two seasons. 

Just why? What’s wrong with the chubby fashion boy? Why? Did they decide they had too many romance arcs.. at exactly two? I get focusing on sam, because duh, and because that was awesome.. but you’ve had 2 full seasons since then and again Leni and him now work in the same location if not the same store, which in itself is a plot. I don’t ask much from you show.. well okay I do but let me clarify I don’t ask much from you that you could actually do: I know i’m never getting my a diffrent world style spinoff with lori and bobby. I know Zach is going nowhere and i’m just going to have to get over it, I will not, but I DO know you could include chaz and just won’t. So do that at least. I will put up with several more seasons of Zach if it means this adorable love story continues. It’s even easy enough to pick up this late: they are both stupid. Work with that. Gah... coach if you’d please. 

Thanks coach. Okay so one tangent later we’re back to the episode. Point is her team is loosing even though Lynn’s the captain now, and while she’s perfectly encouraging it’s not winning games. Lynn is understandably dejected in the car not helped by the sports commentor guys from the game... commenting about it on the radio...

I mean.. I get sports can have dry spots and all that but who covers a middle school basketball team on the radio that isn’t the middle school radio station. I mean I genuinely can’t decide which is more sad... a radio personality doing a children’s baseball game on his own show, or having so much trouble getting one that he’s apperaing on the middle school radio show. And I COULD say it’s just a guest spot but he’s talking like he knows what’s going on intmatiley> Did his daughter ask him to? I mean I know radio’s fallen pretty far but I dind’t think it was that much in the basement. Do a podcast at least man. 

Okay before I go on another Tangent point is Lynn feels it’s her fault as Captain.. which granted whoever the coach is should be .. but it genuinely looks like they don’t HAVE a coach. Maybe they had to sack him to pay for the newly refrubished av department? I dunno. Point is she feels bad and Lynn Sr vows to cheer her up.. before stopping for farm fresh eggs. Which.. yeah can’t blame him. He’s a cook, and Liam’s family likely has good prices. He can buy for both home and restraunt at once. I mean he has a van and only one occupant at the moment. Don’t judge him.  But this little detour DOES help Lynn’s mood. Her problem is the team lacks a decent pitcher, since Lynn herself was banned for throwing one at a heckling goat. The Lawsuit is ongoing and that made me laugh a lot. But Lynn finds Happy Gilmore style that Liam.. has a really great arm. Granted instead of actuall balls it’s with cowpies because this series really loves a shit joke, hence the title and the new nickname for liam, the cow pie kid.. but compared to some of the series toilet humor it’s a lot less in your face. But with Liam being so good Lynn can’t help but sign him to the team and Liam being a sweetie pie is happy to agree.  I have.. not hid even for a second how much I liked Liam or wanted him, and Stella, to show up outside of Lincoln episodes more often, or even get his own again. That day.. has come. Not only does LIam now have a roll entirely outside his friend group, but this episode’s about him and Lynn together.. not in that way.. yet. Someday.. Point is my boy is in the spotlight and I could not be happier.   And thankfully.. Lynn’s at her best. What I feared would be an episode about her overtraining him and making him not enjoy the game, htat old chesnut instead.. she just genuinely helps mentor him. She’s tough but fair as she helps him get his aim right as he’s used to firing Cow Pie’s, so the weight distrbution is off. So she helps train him and .. it’s really cute honestly, with her genuinely helping him and showing a softer side and later realizing she had him thinking about it too hard and just having him not think.. and going by instinct naturally works for a carefree and easygoing guy like liam. Wouldn’t be suprised if he went ultra instinct eventually.. but that’s for another episode. They also have a pig pile together.. which sounds bad but is just pigs piling on liam and lynn gladly gets on top of the pigs and god that sounds worse. next scnee. 

So Liam gets ahead and becomes the star pitcher for the zanarkand abes.. I mean the Royal Woods Kangaroos, and they just keep wining and wining and wining. Their like glomgold: all they do is win... but probably with less attempted corpse dancing. Problem is as we see during the montage Liam’s arm is slowly but surley getting cramped and while he wins hte next game.. his arm gives out from noodle arm. The good news is with rest, he can fix it, as her injury prone friend Paula, whose somehow allowed to play with crutches despite ALL the legal and moral issues that raises explains. but they don’t have days to rest it. So insane plans it is!  So Lynn goes to her sisters for herlp..specifically lisa int he hopes her mad science can either fix his pain or turn him into the hulk. Neither happens.. yet. I mean LIam is so sweet if he IS a hulk, we won’t know yet. But the green door will.. it always knows. IT ALWAYS KNOWS.  Lynn bemonas her luck.. before Lucy appears!

I JUST said last month when reviewing 11 louds a leapin that I missed the duo of her and lynn and lo and behold here we are. While we dno’t get much of the two fo them, it is still nice to see Lynn suprised by her scares and Lucy trying to use the dark arts to heal his pain.. which actually works. Lucy’s upgraded from wants to be a witch to full witch. 

So yeah her dark magic works and now Liam is fine just fine as the championship game approaches. Until naturally it isn’t. While Lucy STOPPED the pain, she didn’t make anything better, just numbed it so Liam’s arm’s pretty bad and Lisa suggests there’s a 70 perfecnt chance he’ll wreck it if he does so.. and while Lynn is naturlaly, given one of her main traits is asshole, ready to risk that.. she realizes she can’t. Rusty is on her team following her orders.. and no matter how good a W feels.. she can’t trade in someone’s health for one. Honestly bettter than most sports managers ngl. So Paula subs in and misses, loosing them the game.. but Lynn. takes it in stride, having realized she can win next year and having finally realized what being the leader REALLY means. She can work on paula’s curve, give Liam a break, and win next time... which she’ll have because time dosen’t work normally in this show’s dimension and a solid timeline is just a pipedream, so she probably has another year of being 14 to redo this and has become aware of it. I’m scared and excited for what that means.  Liam celebrates with a pig pile of two and we get a REALLY fucking cute shot of the two being happy and what not before a pig jumps on them still though.. yeah I ship it now. Liam taps into the space where I thought a black void of misery and douchebaggery was but ti turns out is in fact a heart, something few can do with Lynn and Lynn can protect him form bullies and is perfectly suited for his rough hewn farmboy styles. Point is their cut.e And so was this episode. IT was a really nice return to the series and it was again REALLY fucking great to see one of Lincoln’s firend,s and one of the GOOD ones at that, get a starring roll without him. HOpefully this keeps up and hopefully we see more of these two. 

Saved by the Spell:

RUSTY SPOKES IS TRASH (Ring) I don’t have a saved by the spell font that’ll have to do. Point is he is but before we get to Rusty being Rusty, Lincoln is doing magic tricks at the table. 

Point is he’s excited to do it at the talent show. The next day his friends discuss doing something to make them look cool to everyone. WHich.. kids. i’ll level with you. You. are. NERDS. As a massive one in both size and nerdiness myself, there’s nothing wrong with that. 2/3 of you are lovely people. You’ll be fine. But you are geeks, and should be proud of that.. not so proud you evolve into an incel or it’s adjacent form of assholes mind you, but still proud of who you are. You are never going to be that cool by trying to appeal to everyone. Just be yourslef and the cool comes naturaly. Like kool aid, which is naturally made by milking the Kool Aid man. Be you. 

But instead they decide to do a dance routine which..  let’s face it.. is probably just this spread across 6 people...

Point is maybe don’t do that. Also when Clyde does a dorky but endearing dance and says their going to shake their groove things, Rusty pipes in with “But cool”... and while sadly not as glorious as EVERYONE looking enitrely done with him like last time we saw this tool, Clyde clearly still does while the rest of hte Lincrew have no idea what the hell he’s on. I think their just.. numb to his stupidity and ego at this point.  But when Lincoln shows off his magic they all hide him, fearing that magic.. is well for younger kids and this won’t play so well. Which isn’t an invalid fear: this is middle school and from personal experince, middle school can be hell.. and also one of hte best years of my life which shows the vast gulf between the two schools I was in but was also not the point. the point is kids can be cruel and maybe don’t do this. But lincoln gonna do it anyway because he has confidence.. and frankly given there was an ENTIRE episode about being yourself instead of putting on an asshole suit of armor to avoid being hurt, which Lynn finally took off again last episode, he’s right.. but the rest of them all feel THEIR ALL GOING TO LAUGH AT YOU. and since they don’t know if he has latent psychic powers or not can’t risk him getting pigs blood dumped on him so they plan to find some way to trick him out of it.. Clyde of course gets his stomach in nots because he’s not good with schemes or lying ot his best friend, both of which this is and requires. 

Also Stella’s in the lead, as she should be. And she helps as her positive attudie makes what their doing come off as it should: KINDA douchey, but not intentionally so, they just worry about hteir freind getting pummled.. possibly by his own sister but now sh’es possibly with Liam that’s probably not as much of a worry. Or Chandler but frankly he’s going to do that no matter what.. and is probably getting his ass kicked himself by older kids who won’t toldeate his bs, so your clear. But their fears while a bit unfounded are understandable and well inteitoned if misguided, as we don’t know LIncoln’s act at this point or how well it’d go over with a mostly tweenager crowd, who can be the best as we’ve seen in recent tv.. or aboslutel monsters.. same deal. You either get Luz or you get BOscha, the inbetween is rare. 

So cue our usual setup of a bunch of attempts to do something in a row, but like I said while i’m not a fan of reptition if it’s done well enough it works and with it’s rather sizeable supporting cast , LIncoln and Friends episodes usdually do make it work. In this case it does as each of the sensational 6, lincoln and clyde asid,e try their hand at it. Liam, being the golden child, just has the most direct and obvious route: swipe his magic stuff.. and runs off without letting them talk it out but unlike Rusty in the next attempt, his plan was actually viable.. he just gets tangled up in the scarves and taps out.  Rusty is next ....and his idea is to.. show lincoln his killer dance moves to convince him normally. 

Yup pretty much that. And somehow out of the four plans, RUSTY’S is the only one that dosen’t bring up any serious moral quandries. I know i’m shocked too. He just thinks his moves will do it when no they won’t, please stop it hurts to watch and I can’t turn the fuck away. This is my job you redheaded kanker sore! Gah it thankfully ends and is unsurisingly unsuccesful. 

Also unsuprisingly, i’ve been waiting since i got that image to use it on Rusty. And as a third dollop of unsuprise I did not have to force it in any way shape or form. Point is it’s Zach’s turn as during the last two he’s been pushing really hard to use some form of brainwashing on his friend.. yes .. really. 

Thought Rusty would be the first loud house character to get that one but hey if the shoe fits. Seriously I thought rusty was the creep among them but at least you know.. altering someone’s throughts to suit your own isn’t his go to move. Being excetsivly cocky and coming on too strong is but still better to take THAT out of the Zach Morris playbook than “brainwash people into dooing whatever you say because tha’ts not creeptagious.” And unsurpsingly it does not work.. on Lincoln it woroks on Meyrl for some reason. Thankfully it dosen’t though just.. Zach needs no power epsiecally over the mind. 

So UNSUPRSINGLY, Stella has the working plnan.. and also unsuprisingly the last three just did theres by running off, running off and shouting the loudest. Again somehow Rusty is NO LONGER the most obnoxious one of the group. Zach won that title this episode. He’s still the most pathetic.. but i’m the most done with Zach who adds nothing to the dynamic or the planet or anything and I wish would just go away. Your home planet needs you. 

But yeah Stella has the winning idea: pretending to be “Yodel Boy”, a student who was humilated at a talent show last year, proving sh’es not only a decent actress (I mean it’s obvious i’ts stella in a wig, padding and lederhosen, but points for the accent being okay and hey she’s in middle school), but also the smartest of them. Only one of those is a suprise. It works and Lincoln agrees. 

So the night of the talent show they’ve caught him up to speed and prepare to celebrate, only for clyd eto open the wrong locker and reveal the yodel boy suit. WHy it was in there instead of at Stella’s house where this wouldn’t happen?

But yeah the cat’s out of the bag and lincoln leaves, depressed his friends think that little of him and lied to him. Which.. yeah completely fair. They tried talking to him, it did not work.. they shoudl’ve just left it at that. It would’ve SUCKED if he got bullied true, but it was his choice to go out there and take a risk and do what he loves. As someone whose constnatly self concious and had to fight to start writing like i’m doing now, I envy that kind of youthful confidence and thus wholly support him. 

And finally.. so do his friends. Realizing they’ve been kinda crappy, they introduce lincoln instead and work as his assitants.. and.. it works. Stella gets sawn in half, Zach gets astounded by a card trick, and Liam wears a bunny outfit which is just.. precious. Good boy. Best boy. It’s a huge hit.. and we also get to seesome of the new background kids including one with pink hair who looks kinda nb. I’m just saying one of you should take a crack at them, they seem nice. But for now our heroes are haield as heroes, and the other 5 apologize to lincon and they do their now cemented and fucking adorable group hug. Happy ending to a pretty great episode, with decent gags, a good relatable plot, and Rusty being just the right amoutn of obnoxious. Good stuff.  So that does it for this week. If you liked this review like or reblog it, check out my other work and come back later today for some duck content. and every week once the show returns. Until the next rainbow, it’s been a pleasure. 

[ejzah]

A/N: Based of a post were I suggested that the team competes in various events during the downtime created by the lockdown. A full story was requested by someone. If you would like to claim it, let me know in the comments.

As you might expect, this is filled with ridiculousness.

***

“That’s it, you’re disqualified, G!” Sam declared as he yanked a throwing knife out of the wall, the handle still shaking from being recently hurled.

“Why am I disqualified?”

“You almost hit me in the head!”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have been standing so close to the target.” As they continued to bicker, Eric, Nell, Kensi, and Deeks sat down on the bleachers set up in the gym.

“I wonder how long this argument is going to take.” Nell said, sounding mildly disinterested. Over the course of the day, they had competed against each other in various events, including completing a hundred pushups, a 100 meter sprint, non-dominant hand shooting, and miniature basketball.

The day long competition was the result of them all having far too much idle time while most of the state was in some form of lockdown.

Sam, Kensi and Deeks had been neck and neck for the pushups. Nell had given up after 10 in favor of watching Deeks and Sam finish. In the end, Sam had beat Kensi by three. Kensi and Deeks had tied in the sprint, which had resulted in a mini argument over whether or not they could have two winners and Sam had easily won in the shooting event. Callen had won the mini-basketball round.

“Well, I’d say it depends on how quickly Sam figures out that Callen is messing with him,” Deeks said, settling in for a good half hour of debate.

“How do you guys wear this stuff all the time?” Eric asked, doing a weird half lunge thing as he frowned down at his under armor shorts. “I always feel like it’s squeezing me to death.”

“Well, it does have its perks,” Deeks commented, wiggling his eyebrows at Kensi as he glanced pointedly at her strappy black sports bra.

“Mm, yes it does,” Nell agreed, eyeing his chest appreciatively. Deeks looked down at his skin tight tank top and shrugged.

“Anyway,” Kensi said, rolling her eyes. “We should probably intervene or we’ll never get to the next event.”

“You just want to get your trophy,” Deeks teased her.

“Hey I won the knife throwing competition fair and square. No one else even came close.”

***

“C’mon Deeks!” Kensi shouted, clapping her hands as Deeks and Callen went up against each other on the climbing walls. “You can do this! Climb faster!” She’d already lost against Callen earlier and had taken sides. Nell had also joined Deeks’ side, but Eric seemed torn.

“G, don’t do this to me again!” Sam shouted over Kensi’s encouragement. Deeks thought he heard Callen mutter something sarcastic about not being a show monkey.

Deeks was about 2/3 of the way up with Callen several feet under him. He grabbed the next two handholds, propelling himself another two feet. To the sound of Nell and Kensi’s combined shouts, he climbed the last few feet and touched the top.

“Yes baby!” Kensi cheered as he dropped onto the mat below. Callen let himself fall too and said,

“Well, thank god that’s over.”

“Unbelievable,” Sam said, sounding deeply disappointed. “How could you let him win again?” Callen stood up, breathing heavily with his hands on his hips.

“Once again, he’s got longer arms and have you seen his muscles these days? His arms are like freaking trees,” Callen pointed out. “Besides, I beat you.”

“I have more weight to lift.” Before Callen could respond to that, Nell cut in.

“I believe it’s time for the three-legged race.”

“Ooh, I won the three-legged race every year at my summer camp,” Eric said excitedly. He extended his arm to Nell. “Shall we, M’Lady?”

***

“How are you this uncoordinated?” Kensi shouted at Deeks as they tumbled to the ground for the third time in a minute. Sam and Callen were only doing marginally better; if he’d been less focused on not falling, Deeks would have found the sight of them fumbling around hilarious.

“I don’t know, maybe because one of my legs is tied to yours?” he suggested sarcastically, groaning as he Kensi tried to stand up and ended up yanking at his bound leg.

“As the only married couple, we should be better at this.” Kensi sounded ready to kill him and he tried to sync his movements with hers.

Ahead of them, Nell and Eric were somehow managing to move at an impressive speed despite their vastly different heights.

Kensi growled as they fell yet again.

“This is a cruel, cruel sport,” Deeks sighed. In the time it took them to get back up, Eric and Nell crossed the finish line and immediately hugged, jumping up and down in excitement.

Deeks released the Velcro brace wrapped around his left leg, rubbing at the sore spot the rough material had left as they slowly walked across the field.

“Congratulations,” Kensi told Eric and Nell, managing a smile despite her disappointment.

“Thanks, but it was all Eric,” Nell said, giving him a proud look. “He’s a great leader.”

“Oh, I’m only as good as my partner,” Eric insisted, one arm wrapped around her waist.

“You two are disgusting,” Sam commented, trying to brush grass stains off his clothes.

***

“Nell, how often do you play mini golf?” Callen asked, sounding suspicious as Nell tapped her bright blue golf ball through a windmill and straight into a hole marked with a white 16.

“I may or may not have lived near a course when I was a kid,” Nell answered with a grin. She sank another ball with a single tap. “We played every weekend for a couple summers.”

“I should’ve known when you insisted we include it in the competition,” Kensi commented. She was a few strokes behind Nell and one in front of Deeks.

“Hey, I play to my strengths.” Nell shrugged, not seeming in any hurry to get to the next hole.

“At least the rest of us are doing better than Eric and Sam,” Deeks said, nodding to where Sam and Callen were struggling to get past a river that kept swallowing the ball and spitting it back out on the other side.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sam this angry,” Callen said, his voice filled with poorly concealed humor. As they watched, Sam shouted something and threw his club across the course where it landed in the middle of a small sandpit. “I better go calm him down before we get kicked out.”

“Maybe we should cancel this event. I mean, this is just supposed to be for fun,” Kensi said, watching Sam stalk away as Callen tried to talk to him. Eric was still futilely whacking at his ball.

“Not a chance,” Nell said fiercely, pausing to line her club up to the ball. She swung, the blue tennis skirt she’d chosen to wear swishing with her movement, and smiled in satisfaction as she got another hole in one. “I won this trophy and no one is taking it away from me.”

“Nothing like a game of mini golf to foster familial goodwill,” Deeks commented wryly.

***

Beep beep beep.

“Alright, pencils down,” Nell announced to the sound of frantic scratching. Deeks leaned back, having finished his 10th Scattegories list several seconds early.

Kensi swore under her breath and tossed her pencil down, glaring malevolently at him.

“Ok, starting with Eric, gifts/presents, terms of endearment, kinds of dances, things that are black, vehicles, tropical locations, college majors, dairy, products, things in a souvenir shop, and world records,” Nell said. “And they all must start with the letter L.”

By now her voice was hoarse and she sounded like a teacher who had spent all day corralling misbehaving students. It wasn’t far off.

“Alright, I have Lady Lark, locket, love, nothing, nothing, Land Rover, Latin, nothing, leg warmers, lip balm, and nothing,” Eric rattled off, looking a little stressed. He’d taken his jacket off half an hour ago, apparently overheated by the pressures of the game.

Nell sighed, crossing a couple things off her list.

“Ok, Callen?” He’d been toe to toe with Deeks for the last five rounds and seemed pretty confident. Clearing his throat dramatically, he started reading off his list.

“Lewis and Clark, lima beans, lima beans, lima beans-“

“Wait a second, you just said ‘lima beans’ three times in a row,” Sam interrupted.

“Lima beans would make a great present in my opinion,” Callen said, leaning back in his chair and twirling his pencil carelessly.

“Well, I don’t. Besides, you can’t use the same thing more than once.” Callen sighed and tossed his paper on the table.

“Then you’re probably not going to like the rest of this list.”

“You seriously wrote down lima beans 11 times?” Kensi asked and he shrugged again.

“At this point, I just want the game to be over,” he said, earning a disgusted sound from Sam.

Kensi, Nell, and Sam all read off their lists, scratching of a word here and there. Deeks had insisted that he go last for each round, to give them a better appreciation of his brilliance. No one had argued, but that might have been more for the sake of expediency than that they actually cared. When it was his turn, he noisily cleared his throat.

“Lincoln, as in Abraham, lingerie,” he paused to glance at Kensi who rolled her eyes. “Ladybird, lap dance, lemurs, Lamborghini, Laos, law, low fat yogurt, a license, and liquor,” Deeks said, dropping his board on the table with a smug expression. “Boom.”

“Damn,” Eric muttered. “Why didn’t I think of lap dancing?”

“Because you have an ounce of self-respect,” Kensi said a little meanly, which Deeks put down to her losing another round.

“Ok, so Deeks is officially the winner,” Nell announced, to no ones surprise.

He took a bow, dodging Kensi’s elbow.

***

“G, that’s not a word,” Sam sighed, gesturing for Callen to move the letter tiles he’d just laid down. The board was covered with a grid of words. Deeks had most recently added “erotic”, built off of Kensi’s “elbow”. Sam hadn’t liked Deeks’ word either, but didn’t have grounds to protest it.

“Yes, it is,” Callen insisted. “And now I’m out of tiles too and since that’s 7 with a triple word score, I win.”

“Um, I don’t think so,” Kensi argued, crossing her arms as she glared at him. She’d played extremely competitively, contesting almost as many words as Sam. “You used an already existing word, so you can’t use the ‘s’.”

“And it’s not a real word.”

“It’s in the Harry Potter books.” Callen lifted his hands like that was definite proof, leaning back with a grin. “So I’d say it’s a real word.”

“Actually “lumos” is adapted from the Latin word “lumen”, Deeks explained, “so it’s really a made up word and even if it wasn’t, foreign words aren’t allowed or I would have killed this game.”

“I’m not taking it off.”

“Let’s never do this again,” Nell said to Eric from where they were sitting off to the sides as Sam pulled out a giant dictionary.

“But we’re still getting trophies, right?” he asked worriedly. Nell snorted.

“Of course. I am the champion of mini golf after all.”

***

A/N: Just for fun little side note, I really dislike mini golf. One of the first times I played (I was a teenager), got so mad that I had a similar reaction to Sam’s. Ever since my family has been very cautious around me while playing the game.

And Callen with the lima beans is also based on a real-life anecdote.

[heartbeatan]

Damned Royalty (Chapter 4)

Return to Chapter 3.

Return to Table of Contents.

Return to Desperado Series.

Return to Jimin Fanfictions.

Return to Masterlist.

Chapter 4

You stepped out of the club and Jimin was right behind you.

“My car is ready,” he said, but you ignored him and turned right and started walking down the street. He was stunned for a moment, but then waved his driver off and in a few long strides caught up to you.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“I’m hungry. Someone called me during my lunch break, so I didn’t get to eat,” you replied as you threw him a side eye.

Minutes later, you were seated on the patio of a small restaurant looking over the menu. Jimin looked the place over with a barely noticeable scowl across his face. This wasn’t the type of “luxury” he was used too.

“I was going to take you somewhere nice,” he said as he eyed the plastic tablecloths and dollar store candle holders.

“No need. This place is nice,” you replied, ignoring his pretentiousness and continuing to look over the menu. “What are you going to get.”

“I’m afraid to try the salmon.”

“Get it. Trust me. You’ll be safe.”

His lips formed a thin line, but in the end, he ordered a bowl of pasta instead. You decided on the salmon.

Some time later, you were overlooking two empty plates and a half-eaten basket of bread. You were stuffed.

“Can I get you two anything else?” the waiter asked as he cleared away the plates.

“A bottle of Chardonnay, please,” Jimin replied before you had the chance to say ‘no.’

“It’s Monday night.”

“I’ll give you tomorrow off if things get too crazy,” he winked. You bit down on your tongue to try to prevent yourself from another uncontrollable blush. God, why did he have this hold over you?

“It was good, right?” you redirected him back to the food.

“Yeah, actually. I’m surprised.”

“Great. Because I have good news for you.”

“What’s that?”

“The chef. He’s Cordon Bleu educated and he’s feeling… restless, let’s say with his current position.”

“You brought me here to talk about business?”

“Why else do you think I’m spending time with you?” you fired back. Jimin fiddled idly with his wine glass and shot you a crooked smirk. “Anyway, he’s looking for a new endeavour. Somewhere where the restaurant owner will give him a little more creative freedom. Something a little higher end. If you play your cards right, we might be able to head-hunt him and have him lead your new restaurant.”

“You’re persistent.”

“I told you, Jimin, I’m busy. I’m a business woman. I don’t have time for anything else.” His eyes flitted up and down you quickly, and he smirked again. It seemed he found everything you said to be somehow suggestive.

“Stop that,” you sighed.

“Stop what?”

“You know what. This is just business, Jimin. Nothing else.”

“I don’t want it to be just business between us.”

“Why? You hardly know me.”

“Then tell me about yourself,” he leaned in across the table. You unconsciously sat back in your chair, as if he was getting to close to you. “We should get to know each other regardless.”

“Why did you send me flowers?”

“Because I’m courting you.”

“Ha!” you scoffed. “Courting? You have a funny way of doing that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, one minute you’re sending me flowers, and the next minute I have to wait outside your door while you have sex with someone else,” you didn’t mean to get heated, but you felt your face get hot as you confronted him.

“So, you were jealous,” he laughed.

“I’m not jealous.”

“It’s okay, princess. I want you to be. Now you know how I felt when you left with that guy on Friday.”

“That guy is my boyfriend, Jimin.”

“Just the same. I didn’t like seeing your tongue down his throat.”

You went quiet. You didn’t know how to compete with what Jimin was saying. He was shamelessly wanting for you, to the point you couldn’t even pretend as if you didn’t notice. Luckily for you, the waiter returned with the bottle of Chardonnay, and despite it being a Monday night, you decided a couple glasses was the best way to take off the edge.

“Can we please talk about something else?” you sneered.

“I want to know what you do for fun.”

“I work. I like work. I’m boring like that.”

“I like working too, but there has to be something else you do.”

“Well, what do you do?”

“Sex.”

“Besides that.”

“I’ll show you once we’re done here.”

You looked at your watch. It was nearly ten o’clock.

“I don’t know, Jimin. It’s late.”

“I’ll be sure to pay you back for your time. Aren’t you the least bit curious anyway?”

Despite trying to stave off Jimin’s advances, a big part of you didn’t want to leave – leave him. He was just so captivating. “Fine,” you said curtly, pretending as if you weren’t all that interested.

“Then let’s go,” he suddenly pulled out his wallet and stood up. He dropped an obscene amount of money on the table then reached down and grabbed your hand. You tried to shake him off, but he had a tight grip on you, and you soon found yourself being pulled by him out of the patio and back down the street.

A couple blocks and you pulled up to a hole in the wall type place. You were a bit surprised. You didn’t know what to expect, but given Jimin’s aura of luxury, you expected to be dragged to some sort of gold trimmed, champagne pouring establishment of sorts. Instead, you crossed the threshold of the stained and battered doorway and found yourself in what resembled a game room for adults. Or a bar? Perhaps both. You weren’t quite sure. Jimin led you across the sticky floor to the back of the room, where he pulled back a curtain an revealed a litter of people seated around a card table.

“Jimin!” several of the men and women greeted you. Jimin smiled – the first time you think you saw him really smile – back at the group.

These must be his friends, you thought. Again, you were a bit surprised. They weren’t a debonair bunch like you had expected. Whereas some were clearly straight from the office as their undone ties and suit jackets described, a few others wore beer case shirts and worn out denim.

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet Y/N,” he nodded to you. You realized then that you were still holding his hand. You quickly let it go, now embarrassed to be doing so in front of a bunch of strangers. The room greeted you warmly, then one of the women pulled up a chair beside her.

“Come. Sit here,” she patted the seat, ushering you over to her. You did, leaving Jimin to pull up a seat across the table from you. He pulled his jacket off his shoulders then began loosening his tie and cuffs. A waiter sauntered over to him and Jimin whispered something to him. A few moments later, two aviations arrived – one for yourself and one for him.

“Looks like I might be calling in sick tomorrow,” you quipped, and the room chuckled. “So, what are we playing?”

“Holdem,” a rather burly man sitting to your right informed you.

“Do you play?” Jimin asked as he rolled up his sleeves.

Your inner consciousness smirked deviously. You didn’t know these people, and they didn’t know you. Therefore, they didn’t know your skill level.

“Oh. Just a little bit,” you lied.

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll help you. The first thing you need to know is that it’s not important what your cards are. The key is knowing how to read people.”

“And I take it you see yourself as an expert?” you mocked him.

“You see that chalkboard over there?” You looked to where he was pointing. At the top was written his name and beside it, was a number. $205,839,454. “You’re looking at the long-standing champion.”

“It’s because he cheats,” piped up another man. “And everyone is afraid to cross him.”

“Gord is just jealous because I took his Ferrari last weekend.”

“Oh? I thought we played for money?” you questioned.

“We play for whatever you want to play for, babe,” Jimin winked. “Just tell me what you want from me?”

You thought for a long moment. What could you ask him for? What could you possibly want from a man like Jimin that he would be willing to bet?

“If I win, I want you to give Gord’s Ferrari back.”

“Oooo,” the table collectively awed. Jimin’s smirk returned, a certain level of arrogance behind it.

“Done. And if I win, you and I get to take her for a little ride.” Your insides jolted at the implication. Surely a quiet, country road trip wasn’t what Park Jimin had in mind. Nonetheless, with a flirtatious wink of your own, you agreed.

“Done.”

“Alright, then. Deal ‘em up,” Jimin gestured to the dealer.

 

Hours later, the table of nine was reduced to just two… you and Jimin. Your chips evenly matched, you could tell the table was more than impressed by your “beginners luck” as they so called it. Jimin didn’t waiver. In fact, if anything he seemed more confident than ever. He played mindlessly with his stack of chips as his eyes stared into you, a grin still threatening his lips. You remained as stoic as possible. Your arms crossed in front of your chest as you stared him back, save for the moments when you sipped on your third martini. You were waiting patiently for Jimin to make his next move, and he was doing his best to wear you down and get you to reveal something.

“Your tits look fucking great, by the way,” he finally said. Perhaps under any other circumstance, you would have scolded him – but so many drinks in and a lot of fun later, you decided instead to lean forward, resting your elbow on the table and let Jimin get a good, long view of what lay down your shirt. You smiled a devious smile back at him as you did, and he shamelessly let his eyes wander beyond the cotton neckline. “What have you got there, princess?”

“You’ll have to pay up to find out, Mr. Park.” His eyes flashed back up to yours. He knew you were calling him that to try to get to him. He seemed to either love it or hate it. Either way you didn’t care.

“I’m all in,” he said as he flipped his hand over, revealing a full house, Queens and Jacks.

The table awed again, and Gord brushed his hands through his hair in frustration.

“Oh,” you contorted your lips in a bitter defeat. But then, your lips curved into a wicked grin and you looked back up to Jimin. “Mr. Park,” you put on your best patronizing tone. “You have a really, really good hand.”

Jimin’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening. The room around you fell silent.

“But…” you flipped your hand onto the table. “I’m afraid that it’s just not good enough.”

“Ahhh!” the room erupted into a cheer. There lay, four of a kind, aces high, your winning hand of poker.

“You see, Jimin,” you stood up from your seat and began raking in all his chips to your side of the table. “It’s about reading people,” you smiled triumphantly. Jimin rubbed the back of his neck and threw his head back. He smiled in defeat as his friends began rubbing his shoulders and teasing him about his loss. An elated Doug twiddled his fingers in a “gimme gimme” motion in front of Jimin’s face. Eventually, Jimin pulled out of his pocket the keys to – presumably – the Ferrari.

“I didn’t even get to drive it,” he lamented as he did.

 

After the room cleared, and most of Jimin’s friends left the bar, Jimin led you back into the main game room, which had quieted down dramatically. You checked your watch again; it was nearly one in the morning.

“I should call a cab,” you said haphazardly.

“Not yet.”

“Seriously, I need to work tomorrow.”

“One more game. Your choice. Then I’ll have my driver take you home.”

“I don’t know, Ji…”

“I promise. Just one more. You and me.”

You sighed, but you found yourself looking across the room regardless until your eyes landed on an empty pool table.

“One round,” you said as you nodded to the table. Jimin placed his hand to the small of your back and guided you across the floor towards the table.

The game, overall, was a lot of fun. Perhaps it was the fifth martini that had you loosened up and feeling less inhibited, but you were starting to really enjoy your conversation with Jimin. Turns out, sex and tormenting you weren’t the only things he enjoyed doing. He apparently was a fantastic cook – or so he alleged – which was part of why he wanted to start a restaurant of his own. He also was a collector of fine art and had an impressive assemblage which he promised he’d show you the next time you met up “for business.”

Perhaps it was the way he watched you all night. Perhaps it was the way he prodded you. Perhaps it was his errant touches, to your arm, your back, your hip as he brushed by you at the table – but by the near end of the game, he had you wound so tightly around his finger you were sure that your panties were damp and that you had told him the entirety of your life. He had somehow pulled from you more than you shared with acquaintances and friends. But you didn’t regret it. You rationalized you needed to tell him, you needed to play with him, you needed to let him touch you.

“Final shot,” Jimin’s voice broke you from your tipsy thoughts. You looked down to the table. He had only the eight-ball left to sink, but, fortunately for you, it was well hidden by your last stripe.

“Call the pocket,” you said.

“Top-right,” he replied.

“No way,” you scoffed. It was a near impossible shot.

“You don’t think I can do it, princess?”

“You’re good, Park, but you’re not that good.”

“Why don’t we raise the stakes then?” he stepped towards you and got in your space. You didn’t step away though this time. You had become too accustomed to his ways, and to be honest, you kind of liked it. Instead, you smirked back up at him as you took a sip of your drink.

“What did you have in mind?”

“If I win this game, I get you. One night. Naked. Blindfolded, and tied to my bed while my tongues between your thighs.”

You almost spit out your drink. You weren’t sure if it was the boldness of his gesture or the image that flashed in your mind when he said it.

“I was more thinking that the loser buys the next round,” you replied.

He laughed.

“C’mon. If you’re so confident that I can’t make it, then it doesn’t matter what I want.”

You should have said “no.” But you didn’t. You should have cancelled the bet – but you didn’t do that either. Instead, you scanned the table and the placement of the ball, turned to him and said, “Fine.” Jimin’s grin only widened in yet another display of arrogance.

He turned to the table and you watched him – your heart began to pound in your chest. Surely, he wouldn’t make the shot.

Snap, went the sound of the cue against resin. The cue ball jumped into the air and over your stripe. It dropped on the other side of the table, and, with a small curl, hit the eight-ball. You watched as it slowly rolled across the table and with a deafening clunk, landed square in the pocket. Your mouth fell open in shock and amazement.

“There you have it, princess.”

 

You swallowed hard as Jimin put his hand to your hip as he led you out of the bar. The feeling of his hands on you terrified you, but at the same time set your body ablaze.

I can’t do this, you thought to yourself. You thought about Jinhyun. You thought about your friends. Your father. You thought about who Jimin really was. There were so many reasons to not go through with it, not go through with the bet – but despite them, you kept walking.

Jimin led you out the back door of the bar which led to the alleyway. He must’ve called his driver because a car was waiting at the end of the corridor. You stepped into the night and Jimin took your hand, interlacing his fingers between yours, he walked you towards the car. Your head and your heart began to pound, your body began to burn, and your knees began to shake. As much as you wanted it, were you really going through with this?

“Jimin!” you stopped in your tracks. He stopped too and turned to find you wide eyed and panicked. “I… I can’t do this.”

Jimin exhaled, then stepped forward, closing the space between you. You looked up at him, afraid of what he might say next.

“I know, princess.”

“It’s just…”

“It’s because of him.”

You nodded. “It wouldn’t be right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Never apologize to me. You do as you want, regardless of what everyone else wants.”

“That’s the problem. I want to. I do. You know that,” you reached for the lapels of this suit, but dropped your hands before you could grab them and pull him in.

“Don’t worry, princess. One day you’ll want me to collect on our bet. When I do, I’ll make sure it was worthwhile.”

You smiled and chuckled softly. It was refreshing to be totally honest with someone – even if that someone was Jimin.

“Wow,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Just… when you smile. Really smile for me,” he put his hand over his chest. You couldn’t help but blush as your grin widened for him.

“Thank-you,” you looked up at him through your lashes.

“Let’s get you home,” he said as he took you by the hand once more and led you towards the car.

Once again, however, your heart began to pound uncomfortably, and your skin began to crawl. The night – this night – was over. But you didn’t want it to be.

“Jimin,” you called to him again. He turned to look at you and that’s when, flinging your arms around his neck, you crashed your lips against his and kissed him.

[ralexsol]

On the Subject of Underverse S2

You read that correctly: this is a post about one of the greatest shows ever created, the Undertale animated series Underverse, written/animated by @jakei95​. I have a lot of theories that I’ve been pulling together ever since I watched both Underverse and Xtale (the Underverse prequel series). Maybe one or two have no basis in anything, but for some reason they popped into my head and I’ll stick by them until they’re proven incorrect. I will discuss the possibility of a Geno/Ink fight, Fresh!Ink, XI (you’ll definitely want to read their section!), and the fates of many different characters. This is quite the long post, so buckle up for a long ride.

Let’s begin!

GENO/INK FIGHT:

I’m putting this theory first because it is the least important. At some point in time, I somehow got it into my head that there is supposedly going to be a fight between Geno and Ink. I have no idea where I heard about this, and when I searched for any specific videos or posts about the subject, I found nothing. But I personally think a fight scene between Geno and Ink would be pretty cool, so I’m adding this in here.

FRESK!INK’S EXISTANCE:

This is a more relevant theory. Ever since Jakei announced that Fresh!Ink would be a part of Underverse, I have wondered how he would be incorporated. I don’t know if she means for him to be in the future “Beach Episode” or something more serious. (Of course, I know almost nothing about this supposed “Beach Episode”, which is apparently when Epic!Sans will be showing up, so I really wouldn’t know.) But there is an important thing to remember: Ink and Fresh made a deal in the first season.

Ever since I saw this Underverse - Xtra Scene 2, I have wondered what this “prize” could possibly be. What was Ink’s side of the deal? What did he promise Fresh? Hmm... maybe a new body to take over?

Ink’s body doesn’t have a SOUL- that’s basic “Undertale AU Knowledge 101″. What does this have to do in regards to Fresh? To my best knowledge, the actual parasitic creature True!Fresh feeds off the souls of other creatures to survive. In fact, his soul-feeding would kill his victims if he stayed long enough in one body, but he likes to play it safe and leave his victims alive in case he needs to use their body again. But he wouldn’t need to do this with Ink. Because of Ink’s SOULless nature, Fresh could theoretically feed off his body forever. Some might object that since Ink doesn’t have a SOUL, Fresh wouldn’t be able to feed off him. But then how does Fresh!Ink exist?

So, what was their deal? Fresh watches over the Xtale AU while Ink is gone, and after Cross and X!Chara are taken care of, Ink comes back and lets Fresh take over his body for a little while. There may be something else I’m missing, but the pieces seem to make sense.

XI’S PURPOSE:

For those of you who don’t know who XI is, I suggest you watch this video about Jakei’s Overwrite merch. This is when the character of XI was introduced to us, back on good ol’ April 1st, 2019. Haha, yes, the joke character of XI- funny April Fool’s Day video, a good laugh for everyone. Jakei has made a few comics about XI since then, but overall, XI hasn’t been involved in Xtale or Underverse so far. That has never sat right with me, and I’ve always thought there would be something more to him. I was proven absolutely correct when Xtale - The Movie came out. But before we discuss the little extra scene tagged onto the end of that video, I would like to point out some very interesting facts about XI.

On October 6th, 2019, Jakei posted a traditional speedart. Obviously, the art is gorgeous like always and every time I watch it I wonder if I will ever get to the level of skill she is at. But besides that, there is a very important aspect about this video. In the speedart, Jakei drew two pictures: one of X!Chara and X!Frisk fighting, and one of XI. In XI’s picture, they are depicted in full armor with a magical purple sword & shield.

Hmmm... I wonder who this could possible resemble?

Every time XI is shown, whether it be in comics or artwork, their bangs hang over their eyes. Their armor looks exactly like Kris’s from Deltarune. Heck, they both use a sword and a shield! What does this mean? XI is X!Kris. There is no way to deny this. This is why they are X!Chara’s and X!Frisk’s little sibling. I would also like to point out XI’s silver oval locket. I find it interesting how he has a different piece of jewelry from everyone else- all other important characters in Xtale have a matching golden heart locket. Does XI also have people he has given copies of this necklace to? Perhaps X!Susie and X!Ralsei, if they exist? But XI being X!Kris is only the beginning of this theory. Remember how I mentioned Xtale - The Movie earlier? Take a look at this picture.

This is a five-second frame pegged at the very end of the video, after an entry written in wingdings by Mister XGaster himself. The message is as follows:

Entry Number Eleven: As clear as a reflection in a mirror, I have found the most perfect projection of forbidden visions. Get ready. Your time is coming.

Okay, just whoa. Not only is the entry #11, but the person standing there is XI. Oh, and let’s take a closer look at what they’re holding in their hand.

I knew that silver locket was going to be important. There is no way that XI is not going to play a major part in either Underverse S2 or hmm... maybe a spin-off about the Xtale versions of Deltarune characters? To my knowledge, Jakei has not said anything about her plans after she finishes Underverse. She has her Metadora project, and I am aware that her husband @nyxtheshield​ is planning out his own Undertale series- someone will need to animate that, and I’m sure she would be able and willing to do the job. She has stated that there will be no seasons of Underverse after S2, and the finale will be 1.0. But that doesn’t mean she won’t make a new series. If she does, will it be about all the Deltarune characters? Will the other Xtale characters show up at certain points in it? Will XGaster play a large part in it? There is no way to know, as the idea of a new show is simply drawn from that there may not be enough time in S2 to fully expand what XI is.

In any case, XGaster states in the entry that “your time is coming”. This could either reference a new show or XI’s appearance in Underverse. I find it extremely interesting how XGaster words his message. “The most perfect projection of forbidden visions.” What does that mean exactly? XGaster has seen something in one of his many visions, obviously. The most perfect image of prohibited sights. XI is a person that stands for something that should not be allowed to exist. That makes sense- XGaster, a man, somehow got pregnant and birthed them, as shown in the Overwrite merch video. The “forbidden visions” might imply that he has seen something quite “cursed”, as us modern Internet-users would say. But then he tells this projection to get ready, because their time is coming. XGaster is telling XI to prepare themself. This just proves that XI and XGaster are tied together very closely, and that if XI does get their own series with X!Ralsei and X!Susie, XGaster will be involved.

Whew! That’s a lot of information to take in all at once. This was the big “theory” I wanted to discuss, so now we will move on to the different fates I believe may befall some of our beloved characters.

INK, FOR GOOD OR FOR WORSE?:

Ah, Ink. One of the true protagonists of Underverse. Remember: a protagonist is not necessarily a hero, just one of the leading characters. It has been seen that his story arc is the most important throughout the entire story. He is the one that inspired XGaster. He is the one that made XGaster’s plan succeed. And he very well might be the one to make it fail.

Wait, you’re asking me. I thought he was on XGaster’s side? What do you mean he will make it fail?

I didn’t want to address whether Ink was going to stick with XGaster or flip until a certain song was posted by Nyx two days ago on December 5th, “Soulless Heart”. If you haven’t listened to it yet, go ahead and click that link because the song is beautiful and absolutely necessary to continue on with this theory! The song is the Underverse 0.5 Ending Theme, and guess who it’s about? You guessed it, our good old buddy chum pal Ink. I’ve been listening to it on repeat since it came out, and it really is incredible. (Nyx, if you’re somehow reading this, I would like to personally congratulate you, because not only is the music amazing but mwah! Your voice is a joy, and I would not have any other singer do the vocals.) But the most important thing about the song is the lyrics. Here’s the first verse.

How long have I been longing

to be free and not broken

in this ocean of hollowness?

I don’t want to be forgotten.

Instantly, the lyrics hit you hard. This is about Ink, though, so you can’t expect anything less. Essentially, the song is about the emptiness that Ink feels without a SOUL. This goes along with one of his main aspects in Underverse. The only reason why he worked with XGaster to make sure XGaster’s game worked was so he could feel more emotions. As a chaotic neutral character, Ink literally only cares about himself and his personal goals. But what is interesting about this song is that he addresses the pain he has caused.

Sacrificial lambs

laid upon my path

now are broken worlds

killed by senseless wrath.

Ink knows that he has hurt people. I mean, in the present timeline when 0.5 is to be set, Ink’s actions just caused Error to literally “pull the plug” and destroy all the AUs. (Although, how many AUs were actually destroyed is impossible to determine, because there are still multiple Sanses that will be incorporated into S2 that were residing in their AUs at the time of their supposed destruction.) Ink knows that this is his fault. And now that XGaster has won, Ink will be receiving all those emotions he wanted! In the S2 teaser, which was released on the original Underverse 0.5 release date (the episode was unfortunately delayed due to issues with Nyx’s distributor, RouteNote), shows something very important.

Look at those vials in his hand. Those aren’t just colored vials. Well, they are, but their colors are especially important. Look at their specific colors: orange, yellow, and amber. Previously, Ink’s vials have been seen as very straightforward: roy g biv, that sort of thing.

You have one or maybe two variations, although in this picture there seems to be about four different aqua vials. But there certainly isn’t an amber vial. This goes to show that XGaster followed through on his promise, and Ink has a lot more variations in his color-coded emotion vials. The obvious conclusion from this is that he can feel a lot more things than he thought was possible- including guilt. With his newfound feelings, he could realize that what he did wasn’t just wrong, it was horrible. He might start to blame himself for getting all the AUs destroyed, which in turn might result in a betrayal of XGaster. With his emotions, he would become a real good person. But ultimately, without XGaster’s Overwrite abilities, Ink’s new emotions will fade and he will return to be the same old Ink as before. He will no longer understand why he sacrificed his emotions, and the cycle will start anew. Ink will never be truly happy, because being happy will always mean the suffering of others.

Or, Ink will stick with XGaster. It would be the same fate, after all; if the heroes defeat XGaster, Ink will still lose those emotions. This, though, might leave him feeling bitter and even more willing to do anything to get what he wants, which could potentially lead to him becoming a real villain. Perhaps XGaster isn’t the final boss of Underverse. Maybe the one to start everything will be the one to finish everything.

XGASTER AND UT!GASTER:

This wouldn’t be a real theory post without discussing our favorite fanfiction writer, would it? And yes, XGaster is literally a fanfiction writer. He has symptoms of OCD concerning the world-building of his universe and he just loves to add as much angst as humanly (or monsterly) possible. It just so happens that he lives in his own created universe, so his creations have the pleasurable chance at getting revenge.

Now, there are obviously two ways that Underverse can go: XGaster succeeds, or XGaster fails. This doesn’t necessarily mean that this will be the ending of S2. As I mentioned above, perhaps XGaster will be defeated at the end of 0.9 and 1.0 will be about everyone trying to stop Ink from taking the Overwrite SOUL for his own, I don’t know. In any case, I don’t really have anything to discuss about XGaster specifically, but I am pretty sure I know what his last scene will be if he happens to lose.

It is shown in the Underverse S2 Prologue - Owners that XGaster and UT!Gaster spent a lot of time together in the Void between the events of Xtale and Underverse. Not only do they hold an entire conversation together in Owners, but in Underverse 0.1 when Sans is hit in the head with a ball, he has a vision of the two of them standing together.

In XGaster’s and UT!Gaster’s conversation in Owners, UT!Gaster tells XGaster that he will fail in his quest for perfection. XGaster brushes him off because he’s an egotistical prick, yadda yadda. But this conversation is important because I believe it will parallel the ending of XGaster’s quest. In the end, UT!Gaster will approach his old Void-buddy and tell him to just give up on his pointless venture. XGaster will turn to dust after saying something like, “I will never give up”, and then we have Ink going on a rampage. That’s pretty much all I have to say on them, but I thought it would be worth adding.

DREAM AND NIGHTMARE:

Lastly, we have the brothers. As with XGaster and UT!Gaster, I don’t have much to add with them. But I do believe they will both play a major role in S2. They will be the overseers of the battle to come. Out of all the characters in the Undertale fandom, they are the most omnipotent. They are the protectors of the Tree of Feelings, which is one of three trees to give the Multiverse life. In Underverse 0.4, when X!Chara accused Nightmare of “watching us all this time as if we were part of a show”, Nightmare responded by saying:

Of course, Nightmare mostly means himself, Error, and Ink. Dream is much more active in helping people be happy, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t on the same god-tier level as his brother. Dream could sit back and watch the world tick, but he chooses not to because that goes against his morals.

In other words, Dream and Nightmare will probably affect the outcome of Underverse more than any other characters. They’re both pissed about what Error did: all those people that Dream cared about were murdered, and Nightmare can no longer generate negative feelings from innocents. They both have invested interest in this Multiverse war now, and their powers will certainly come to the forefront.

I believe that at the end of the story, the Multiverse will essentially go back to the exact way it was before Xtale was invented. XGaster will be dead, the Xtale characters will be put back in their AU, the other AUs will be restored, and at the end of it all, Dream and Nightmare will be once again pitted against one another. We may even see an alliance between them during Underverse S2 to stop XGaster, but afterwards, they will reestablish their rivalry. Unless the Omega Timeline comes into play, which it very well might, I don’t see the two brothers reconciling.

CONCLUSION:

Thank you everyone who took the agonizingly long time to read this! I hope this shed some light on certain characters (especially XI) and encourages to make some of your own theories. Stay safe and good night!