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thewestern · 8 months

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Chapter 12

Kitty’s legal instincts were on the mark as usual. You don’t need a process server to deliver a Cease and Desist letter. You don’t even need an attorney to write one. Anyone can do it. And you can just send them by mail.

To this, the Mick said, Great, so we can blow it off then. Come to think of it he had been sent a similar notice by a much larger enterprise than #x_brüing for pirating episodes of the premium cable show Entourage in his college dorm room. Nothing ever materialized of that. So I suppose we’re in the clear.

But Kitty insisted they see it through. Again, she had a funny feeling in her stomach. Something just wasn’t sitting right about Mockingbird commandeering Hank’s memorial party. And who was right there with him but Jaime? Neither of those two had so much as set foot in the Newfy since the day they hightailed it out of there. Then four hours later he sends a threat of legal action via Pony Express? She didn’t say so but whereas the Mick felt put upon, Kitty felt a kind of tingly feeling of sensory awakening, having been called out like this. Like jumping in cold water. Who knows? Maybe Mayor Larry and Jimmy were in cahoots. Wouldn’t that be something?

That being an albeit remote possibility, Kitty insisted that she accompany Mick, acting as his counsel. Grace was coming along for no reason other than she heard #x_brüing was actually kind of tight. When he found out Grace was going, Zeke invented his own reason for tagging along. Social media, the Six Bus, something, something. So then here they were, a Gang of Four.

Piling into Kitty’s station wagon, they set out from the New Frontier. The #x_brüing taproom was on the industrial outskirts of town, not far from where the planned production facility was being quite painstakingly constructed. This would have presented a perfect opportunity to drop in on the way and have that chat with that foreman, fuckhead, but the Mick didn’t think today he could stand to. One migraine headache at a time.

Even half past rush hour, traffic remained at a standstill in spots. A night crew had shut down three of six lanes on the main thoroughfare. Kitty tried to shortcut around a side street but got caught trying to turn westbound on a one-way eastbound. You are being rerouted … Your arrival will be delayed by … Fifteen … Minutes, said the robotically feminine voice on the navigation system. For the duration, Zeke would stay locked into place, his legs scrunched up against the driver’s seat, and his large head cratered somewhat firmly into the nylon upholstery of the decidedly non-lunar roof. Grace was fast asleep, unconscious to all the world’s suffering, including and especially the Passion of Zeke, who was directly to her right, currently succumbing to this onsetting case of unrequited romantically-induced rigor mortis.

The Mick — sitting shotgun, a seat he’d offered to Zeke who as a matter of course, demurred — stared a thousand yards out the passenger side window. When he started at the Newfy, the surrounding neighborhood had been a ghost town. Abandoned buildings on every corner. Broken glass in every window. An open-air, intravenous drug market, it was. Back then you needed a reservation to take a shit on the sidewalk, as Russ would oft-reminisce. That was until the New Frontier was among the first businesses to kickstart a Downtown Renaissance, as Mayor Mockingbird called it on the campaign trail when he took complete credit. Good on him for getting out while the getting was still good. The Mick could already see the cracks forming. The few remaining independent storefronts were being priced out and replaced systematically by franchise concerns. Generic-brand Bar and Grilles for expensed lunches and joyless happy hours, catering to the office parks towering above. Below, an open-air shopping mall of small kiosks selling defective nick nacks to the out-of-town suckers — the socks and sandals, tucked-in t-shirt crowd — and big box stores slinging triple-quilted toilet paper in bulk. Sooner rather than later, the city would eat itself from the outside in and the cycle would begin anew. The Mick knew how things worked. He’d seen The Wire.

However, he could also see signs of life flickering, the further out they drove from the dysrhythmic beating heart of downtown. The Warehouse Manufacturing District was gaining a reputation as an Artists’ Enclave. For a fact there were count ‘em-three studios of Western Art which occupied the same city block — the world capital for watercolor renderings of cattle drives. Then branching off like arteries from Gallery Row, there were boutique vendors of decidedly more fashionable trinkets to more discerning travelers, smatterings of cafes and coffee shops, a food court-style collective of farm-to-table restaurants and perhaps the belle of the disco ball … The Fulfillment Centre — a scalable, state-of-the-art concert venue and special event facility. (Scalable insofar as the audience capacity could be adjusted via a retractable wall, so as to accommodate demand flexibility for a wide range of acts spanning all genres. Thusly it was designed by its owner, the Achtung Group, the world’s second-largest dynamic ticketing marketplace brokerage and presenter of live entertainment.) Although all of the above properties were developed by the same property development firm — Hindenburg Partners, Inc., which maintained no visible ties to Mayor Lawrence K. Mockingbird — they had the appearance of having grown organically, like roses from concrete. A sleight of hand made possible in no small part by the large murals which adorned many-a-brick exterior across the WMD. Some were subtitled by irreverent sloganeering, written in the literary tradition of refrigerator magnet Haiku. Others were portraits, broadly canonizing celebrities of the counterculture who were considered to be off-beat in some way, but were nonetheless very famous, often in the throws of recreation in some obscure form, as if in theme park caricature. [A trivial pursuit of art as Madlib: Proper noun, verb that ends in -ing — Johnny Cash, rollerblading; Che Guevara, riding a go-cart; the world heavyweight champ Mike Tyson, reading a Harry Potter book with his boxing gloves on.] All were coloured very vibrantly and between the lines. Seemed as though to the Mick they must have been professionally commissioned. As of course they were — carefully curated Works of Street Art. No, these were no fucking amateur hoods out tagging. Here, behold, as they passed by one spray-painted depiction of Doctor Lupus giving Little Red Riding Hood a physical atop a firetruck examination table.

Women’s Healthcare is Human Healthcare, his voice bubble said as he handed her a lollipop for being so brave.

(According to Lupus canon, pediatric medicine was not one of his specialty practice areas. Those were gastroenterology, orthopedics and the intersection between the two, more specifically.)

Nearing their destination now, they could see how halfway down the block and around the corner from #x_brüing, a line was already queueing up the sidewalk. Zeke was aghast. What theme of event could possibly draw such a crowd? Suffice to say they’d never gotten a turnout like this at the Newfy during his brief tenure, even for the ever-popular Halloween costume contest or Hank’s funeral. As Zeke exhausted himself efforting to count the head of every man, man and occasional woman in line for this mystery fete, Grace was in a deep sleep. As they rounded the last right turn, the centripetal force slumped her head neatly onto the lap of Zeke, who thought he might himself now pass out until mercifully, the Mick intervened.

Hey, G … Wake up. We’re here.

Serious props for snagging a power nap on this a fifteen-minute car ride, thought the Mick. Grace surprised him every day. Now he had a funny feeling though, looking at the outstretched beerline. Dandy Jim was up to something, that much was for certain. No wonder that fancy letter gave a time and place to respond in person. He had half a mind to think that whole business with the fake cowboy was just his elaborate, Aspergers-assed way of inviting him to his party. Wouldn’t that be Jamie all over.

Street parking was naturally a nightmare. There was a gargantuan, five-level garage just across the street, but Kitty considered pay lots to be akin to unconditional surrender to forces of evil, the terms to which she could not abide. So then she had no choice but to circle around three times and parallel into a tight spot between two of the biggest fucking pickup trucks you ever saw.

A couple of times she had driven Hank’s wagon, to pick up a cheese plate or something for Club Wed. (She and Mick were a one-car family, not counting his dirtbike, from which he was taking a sabbatical of indefinite term.) It had a little candid camera on the rear bumper, so as you could see what you were backing up into. Now, back in her swag wagon, every time she threw it in reverse, she couldn’t help look down at her dash for the monitor that was not there.

They ended up walking right down the line they had driven alongside thrice times previous. Kitty’s skittish glance lingered on the seldom few females among the huddled mass, seeming to be long suffering significant others. (Blink thrice if you’re being held here against your will.) It couldn’t have a degree or two warmer than freezing. And yet here they were, standing duitfully at attention in the dark, wet cold. How come it was nobody seemed dressed appropriately anymore, Kitty noted. Could this maybe be a byproduct of the ubiquitous convenience of modern travel? For those commuting above a certain station wagon, of course. With the privilege to plan their comings and goings with GPS precision. To whom it would usually prove superfluous, preparing for those unplanned inconveniences along the way, like road work or lousy weather.

Walking on by, they were themselves on the receiving end of more than a few sneers. These people were VIPs at best, or they were line cutters at worst … Either way, fuck ‘em, was how the dirty onlookers probably felt about Kitty and her crew. That they were the objects of such scorn, only Zeke really noted. Were we supposed to wait, he couldn’t help but thinking. The Mick hadn’t given it a moment’s consideration. Recall how he hated lines so.

Finally reaching the entrance, the door was manned by a substantial gentleman with a barbed wire arm tattoo, sitting on a plush leather stool behind a red velvet rope. In all his years in the craft beer industry, the Mick had never seen such a thing at a taproom before. Somebody working the door. Maybe you send Grace or somebody out there to check IDs on a busy Saturday, for appearances’ sake. But as far as security was concerned, if it were that a customer ever got over-served to such an extent that would warrant his or her ejection from the taproom, one could safely assume he or she had consumed — at a bare minimum — half a dozen beers, of heavy ABV. Being that bloaty is no form for putting up much of a fight. Usually you could just tip the offending party over and barrel roll ‘em right out the door. If for some other reason they ever had needed a cooler-type at the Newfy — a local power broker dispatching his henchmen to stir up trouble … Knife fights, and the like — Zeke could probably do in a pinch, the Mick supposed. He was thereabouts a bouncer’s average size, anyway. Mentally though, the Mick wasn’t sure he had it in him to go full Swayze, and go for his assailant’s jugular. Even if he had possessed a philosopher’s depth of soul, which the Mick thought Zeke well might.

This beef stick on the other hand, judging primarily by the scar running the length of his left face — from the red biker bandana, that clinged for dear life around his steaming bald head, down to his rock formation of a jawline — was content to live and die in the physical world. Perhaps more concerned with banging plates than banging out Plato, he had all the ocular trappings of a real fucking hard case. Naturally, his bare arms were exposed and so adorned in prison-quality body art, bulging out from a black leather motorcycle vest, which was itself plastered in iron-on patches. Demerit Badges — outlaw flair for commemorating one’s committing felonies of escalating classes. One above each breast, diamonds outlining numbers — twenty-five on the right (the Mick’s left) and six-percent-er on the left. Then, just about in line with the liver, a Jolly Roger with the skull swapped out for a hop cone. And opposite of that, a flaming white cross. Lastly, a name tag stitched in cursive right above his heart — Herbie Horsecock.

Quite deliberately with two fingers, as if taking some faint pulse, he touched his transparent plastic earpiece, connected to a concealed Walkie-Talkie via a coily cord that ran in parallel to the throbbing vein on his steroidal trapezius. Looking down to his clipboard with the intense focus it might well require him to read, he said in a gravelly voice:

You’re not on the list.

But you didn’t ask for my name.

End of the line, please.

No thank you. I don’t care for lines.

I’m not asking.

Then I’m not answering.

Last chance, asshole.

Hey, hold on a second, Big Guy. That type of name calling is uncalled for. Maybe we got off on the big foot. I’m Mick. I know the owner. He’s a huge douchebag that might be suing me.

Frankenstein’s monster here was not fully understanding of nor amused by the Mick’s smart tone, and quite honestly why should he have been. As he sized him down and further down, menacingly, a young woman about a third his mass materialized as if from within him like a nesting doll, and tippy-toed up to whisper something in his cauliflower ear. While she had no vest nor accessorizing patches, she did have a credential attached to lanyard, in addition to an earpiece and clipboard of her own, of course, signaling that she pulled rank over this door troll. Begrudgingly then, the sentry unclipped the brass hook from its stantion while the girl cuffed them with cloth sashes — the familiar pattern of red paisley with tie-dye accents — designated for: friends + family. With thee wristbands, the New Frontier Four were henceforth granted entry into an alternate beer reality.

#novls of tumblr #yimby

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vitaldrita · 2 years

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Metallica ride the lightning

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taechaos · 3 years

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A Thriller Film

pairing: director!Jungkook x fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, yandere, smut

synopsis: Jungkook's life is his movies, but people don't know his movies are his life. As an anonymous director, no one can suspect him as the villain in a story, but he leaves a clue in his movie about you.

warnings: smoking, stalking, murder, solo masturbation, public fingering

word count: 5.4k

a/n: i don't know why i put so much effort into this but we love to see it flop 🥰

Smoking is bad, but there are worse things in life.

Jungkook noticed you for the first time when a cigarette was hanging off his lips, exhaling the stress from the process of organizing a new thriller film with a less than cooperative crew. Fresh out of high school, you were bright and skipping on the sidewalk in the early hours of the morning. What would such a young woman, applying for colleges left and right, be so happy about?

He didn't know you at the time, but looking at you was like a breath of fresh air. While he survived off of coffee and nicotine, you seemed to have a lot of happiness to share. Your smile was incompatible with his frown.

So he ignored you when you passed him with your earphones blasting a song so loud, he involuntarily caught the lyrics.

Fall... back... in... to... place.

The second time he saw you, he was smoking again and you were just as happy as the day before. How can someone be so in tune with themselves, with life? The same song played from your earphones, the one he listened to on repeat after searching up the lyrics: Space Song. An urge to approach you surged up in him, but he only watched you as you walked past him. A single glance from you was all it took to anticipate tomorrow.

Today, when he recognizes you from your clothing first; colorful, silky, gorgeous. So much personality in one outfit, a polar opposite to his casual black outfit in jeans and a plain shirt. Even your bag is eye-catching, and he flicked the ash off of his cigarette before nodding at you as you passed the bus stop, reaching the front of his studio.

Why did your eyes just widen? You acknowledge him with a friendly smile, and go on your merry way. That is until he lightly taps your shoulder, and you turn instantly.

"Hey," he greets before you can utter a word, "where are you always rushing off to?"

Your lips part in surprise; the man you secretly - guiltily - side-eyed for the past few days noticed you when you weren't looking? "I have an interview. Well, a few," you chuckle.

"For what?" he tilts his head curiously and takes another drag from his stick.

"Career counseling," you plainly reply, but it sounds enthused. "I'm a clueless graduate." Your hands clutch your tote bag before you discreetly check the time on your wrist. You're going to be running late soon.

"You interested in cinematography?" Smoke follows his words, but you aren't fazed.

"I'm interested in all forms of art, why?"

He notices you checking your watch again. "I'm a film director. This is my studio," he cranes his neck behind him. "You can apply for an internship here. Maybe for a stylist even," he points at your floral romper with his chin as his eyes trail.

You shift your weight on your left foot when his stare flusters you, and you consider his flattering suggestion for only a second before saying, "thank you for the offer, but I need to go now," you grimace sheepishly, "can I think about it?"

"Take your time," he reassures with a sly smile and inhales from his stick, filling his lungs with the sweet scent of your perfume alongside.

He doesn't look away when you walk off with a shy wave, entranced by your struts until he's called back in. It's with newfound inspiration that he's inside of his studio.

The storyboard of his upcoming project needs a few tweaks, and he doesn't fail in enhancing his crew with a different idea.

It’s been a week. Okay, it might’ve been shorter, but Jungkook is impatient. Besides, it didn’t help when he saw you holding hands with someone... so less than. It really baffled him to see you with a guy who wore such shabby clothes. He looks like the type that Jungkook would cast for a flop character.

The two of you are like a toy display across his studio in that cutesy, obnoxious café with a smoothie in the middle of your booth. He chuckles as he lights up another stick when he notices the two straws in the single cup. Cliché, cheesy, but cute in a childish sense. Your age shines through the amateur romance between you and that loser.

It especially shows when you look to the side with a laugh and lock eyes with him; so flustered that you gasp and focus back on your date. What makes you so shy about seeing him? You seemed so confident during your conversation two days ago.

He whistles when he notices a stray dog in an alleyway. You look at him as well but don't hear anything beyond the glass wall, but it catches his attention regardless. He whistles again before saying in a hushed voice, "come here girl." It's difficult to suppress a smile when you gaze at him questioningly, as if trying to decipher his words. "Naive little girl," he mouths as he smokes, "what are you doing with that boy?"

He almost chokes when you take out your wallet in front of a waiter; are you paying for him? That's why you ordered one drink - so you could share? Jungkook isn't cruel but, he finds it laughable that your boyfriend is so... unappealing. He can't help but wonder why you're with him; maybe his face? The boy is somewhat handsome, but he only has his facial features to go by. It's rather strange for Jungkook to think about this in the first place, so he gets back inside his workplace after harshly shooing the stray dog away with a stomp of his foot.

"I'd like to start my internship today."

Jungkook runs his eyes up and down your body while leaning against a brick wall. "Paid?"

"I-I'll do it for free. Besides, I don't know if I'll even work in this industry," you twiddle your fingers while smiling up at him. He intimidates you, but this morning you decided you did enough thinking and here you are, an aspiring stylist all of a sudden.

"Get inside," he nods at the door before stubbing his cigarette and following you to his studio. "You know what you're going to do?"

"I'm going to decide the outfits, right?" The place looks cozy to you, with its minimalistic interior design and blunt switch between the stories. The first floor is strictly for business, with lined up cameras, lights and a microphone. There is even a green screen! And the second floor seems to be more of a resting area with its couches and open laptops, but you can't make out much from the entrance. Jungkook starts walking ahead of you, making a beeline for the black stairs. You tail behind him and smile at anyone who notices you, which isn't a lot of people. It's not crowded.

"Right. We're still working on a storyline, haven't finished it yet so it's possible this project might not be published. You with me so far?" he glances at you, and at your firm nod, continues, "when we finish planning, scripting and shit, you come to play."

"So what do I do now?" you innocently inquire and watch him plop down on the red velvet couch. He clicks on the space of his keyboard to light up his screen.

"I have an idea for a character, and I want to know how you would design her," he vaguely explains as he scrolls through his document.

"You want me to sketch it or explain?"

"Let's hear you out first. Irene," he suddenly calls out loudly.

"Yes?" a female responds from downstairs. You see a woman with a grey cap look up at him, her attire nothing short of casual.

"Come here."

She skips a few steps while climbing up the stairs at his command. You're not awkward when you greet her, and she offers a coy smile.

"This girl - what did you say your name was?" he asks you. You tell him and he continues, "she's going to be our intern. I want you to critique her with me."

"What's she in for?" Irene asks before sitting across from him.

"Wardrobe stylist."

Her eyes widen as she takes a second look at you. Your style is definitely unique, but... immature. She has half the mind to not question Jungkook about his choice.

"Okay..." she trails. "I'm Irene, by the way. I'm going to be an executive producer for the upcoming film."

"Nice to meet you," you brightly chirp. "Sir?"

Jungkook smirks at your addressing of him. "Yes?"

"What is your name, if I may ask?"

"I'm Jeon Jungkook, but you may know me for my pen name Shin Dong-hyuk."

Your mouth falls open when you instantly recognize the name. "Wait, what? You directed My Time?" you incredulously wonder aloud.

My Time is a movie that took the world by a storm; it brought recognition to the whole country for its popularity and clever writing. You never knew the name was a pseudonym, however. It's a suspense genre, about the life of a crazed fanboy who is obsessed with a foreign celebrity. He stalks her on the internet, has a fanpage of her and pays a hefty amount of money to strangers to update him on her whereabouts. He's portrayed as a young college student in the story, and inevitably runs out of cash from reckless spending. When she gets into a dating scandal, he goes on a theft spree and flies out to meet and confront her. It ends with her murder when he finds her with another man in a hotel room, and he stabs himself in the heart afterwards. There are a bunch of clues that foreshadow his ending, from his family life to his friendships. It's an amazing thriller, and you researched his name in the credits to find more of his works after seeing the movie but to no avail; there is only one listed.

"That's me," he nonchalantly reveals as if he didn't just give you the shock of your life. "Don't tell anyone though, will you?"

You whimsically put on an imagery zipper over your mouth while trying to recover from your racing heart.

"I don't have a clear outline, but the female lead is going to be naive but charming. She has to stand out, alright? Happy, extraordinary, special."

"We didn't decide on that," Irene butts in with a displeased expression.

"I forgot to tell you, I deleted our previous plan."

"You did wh-"

"What do you think?" he turns to you as he ignores Irene's shrieks. "What color are you imagining?"

You feel nervous when he puts you on the spotlight after revealing his identity. You close your eyes with a deep inhale before answering, "I'm thinking red and green, like Christmas. There should be a hint of white as well."

Jungkook drinks in your outfit before grinning mischievously. "Perfect." All of your colors.

Stalking is bad, but there are worse things in life.

Is it such a bad idea to follow you home when it's dark out? He kept you for a long time in the studio, allowing you to dress up a mannequin with all sorts of costumes you had in mind in the backroom. He's certain you had fun with him when you left with a permanent grin on your face.

You live with your parents, and he knows for sure he's at least 5 years older than you. You look about 19, so he's assuming he's only 8 years older.

A small villa with windows all around, he observes, before glancing back at your bedroom. The lights are on and you're swinging your legs with excitement on your bed after you face planted on the mattress. He didn't see you greet your parents before running off to your room, and he can't help the smile growing on his face at your hyperactivity. It was like an instinct to walk you home in secret and he isn't sure why he is still watching you. He should look away when you get off of your bed and heave your shirt over your chest, but instead he steps away from the lamp post to hide from the light.

You're changing, and he can't take his eyes off of you. As if that wasn't enough, you unclasp your bra without even pulling the curtains. Do you know he's there? The thought excites him, and his pants begin to tighten around his crotch. He lowly whistles at you, but you don't hear him again. You do look outside for a few seconds while stretching your arms, however, and he's certain you have a connection to him.

He leaves when you put on your pajamas with the image of your bare tits imprinted on his mind. He doesn't head home first, as the studio is only a few minutes away from your home and he wants to leave you a gift.

When the familiar building enters his vision, he doesn't waste time in unlocking the door and switching on a single dim light. He rushes to the backroom after locking the entrance for a second time and unzips his jeans as he goes. You were here not too long ago, and he can pinpoint exactly where you stood while striding to each corner with purpose. Bending, crouching, leaning, doing just about anything to tease him.

Now that he can imagine your perky nipples realistically, he immediately takes out his length from his restraints and picks up a random handkerchief to pump himself with. He doesn't stop to think over his actions; he's acting on urges, on impulse. Never has he ever done something like this.

He's rather relaxed as he sits down on an idle stool to close his eyes and run his hand up and down his shaft. What he would do to press your tits against his cock while he slides it up and down, smearing his cum all over your lips while you sleep. You would swallow it without a second thought once he finishes in your gaping mouth, and wonder why there's a dull ache in your breasts the next morning.

His breaths grow shallow the faster he strokes himself, the more he thinks about using every part of you for his pleasure while you're knocked out cold. He involuntarily thrusts into the air while quiet moans slip out of his open mouth. Something about how taboo it would be to fuck you while you're unconscious turns him on so much. Would that be something you're into?

The handkerchief is so soft, so silky against his length, he can almost imagine it to be your hand. He starts twisting his hand around his cock, from the base to the tip as his other hand palms his balls before he begins to reach climax. Strings of cusses fall out of his mouth when he quickens his pace, the fabric against his skin resounding in his ears before he finally spurts out his cum into the cloth.

"Fuck," he exhales as he coats his makeshift glove with his release. White on white doesn't make much of a difference, and he's panting as he folds the handkerchief to rub it evenly so it sinks in completely.

He leaves it on the stool after zipping his pants, and his eyes twinkle under the moonlight on his journey home.

You aren't alone when you walk to work. Jungkook is taking his usual smoke break while watching you swing your interlocked hands back and forth with the guy next to you. Your smiles exude the same aura, and Jungkook sarcastically notes how compatible the two of you are. The boxy grin shines with the sun, but it doesn't hide the boy's worn out clothes.

"Good morning, Jungkook," you greet before introducing your boyfriend. "This is Taehyung, Taehyung meet Jungkook. I'm going to be under his wing until I decide my major."

"Hello, Taehyung," Jungkook coldly says before blowing smoke in his face.

Taehyung scrunches his nose before chirping, "hi!" He then turns to you and whispers, "I thought you wanted to study medicine."

You shake your head dismissively with a light laugh before responding, "it's just an internship." You let go of his hand and bid farewell with a peck on his cheek before going inside the studio.

"Well, have a good day," Taehyung smiles as he's about to leave before Jungkook holds out his hand to block the way.

"Taehyung, who is your girlfriend?"

"Um," he furrows his brows before saying your name.

"And who are you?"

At Jungkook's blunt question, Taehyung pauses and takes a step back. "What do you mean? Like my full name?"

"No, who the fuck are you? What is your contribution to society? What do you do for a living? What are you wearing?"

"Sir, I-" Taehyung's stammering is cut short when Jungkook asks, "how much money for you to stop leeching off of her?"

He scoffs, "excuse me? I'm not leeching off of anyone, and I'm sure as hell not breaking up with her for your money." Taehyung's face heats up from the shameless confrontation, and he starts walking in the opposite direction.

"So you're not going to leave her?"

Taehyung doesn't turn to look at him as he emphasizes, "no."

"Good."

He abruptly stops in his tracks. "What?"

"Your dedication is admirable," Jungkook comments with a shrug. "I'm satisfied with your answer."

"Were you testing me?"

"Bingo."

He starts chuckling before shaking his head. "I always knew directors were crazy; you scared me for a second."

"Where you headed now?" Jungkook smoothly switches the subject, but notes the fact that you've spoken about him to your boyfriend.

"I have a farm two blocks away." When Jungkook raises a brow, he explains, "I stayed the night with her, so I decided to drop her off before leaving."

"Want me to drop you off?"

It's a kind offer, really, but Taehyung is still put off by the insults thrown his way just a minute ago. Doesn't he have work to do anyway? "That's alright, thank you, but I'll just take the bus. Have a good one, Jungkook."

Jungkook doesn't stop him as they both wave goodbye. He doesn't bother putting out his cigarette before going inside.

Where would be a farm only two blocks away from the city center? It has to be a lie.

You're wandering around the place as to not awkwardly wait for Jungkook who sharply inhales at the sight. He calls your name.

"Yes?"

"What do you want to become?"

"I," you look at him funny with a laugh, "I still don't know."

"Then take a gap year."

Your brows shoot up to your hairline. "Why?"

"I want you to be invested in this project completely. Once the planning is finished, I'll give you a salary. What do you think?"

He's asking you to work full-time for him. Not as an intern, but an employee and you are beyond willing after only being here for two days. He's a famous director; how can one pass up this opportunity?

"I'd love that."

You noticed that Jungkook has a very unique way of working. You've heard that he's been keeping his crew until late at night, already having an outline for his plot and he's moved onto screenwriting. He apparently disappears randomly throughout the evening after you leave, and you've had some different experiences with him of your own.

He asked you to steal from the wardrobe of his backroom. "Take everything that you'd wear," he said before stepping out of the room.

When you confusedly compiled all of the clothes that caught your eye under your arm, he took them from you and brought them upstairs with a huge grin. "Keep that one," he pointed at the handkerchief you thought about lacing your neck with.

Taehyung's quiet with you. He doesn't respond to your texts, doesn't call you, doesn't come over. You're too busy spending time with Jungkook to check up on him, and it serves as a well distraction when you keep glancing at your notifications. It hurts, especially when your wallpaper is a picture of you and him. It hurts because he isn't with you in your proudest moments when you were with him even at his parents' funeral.

The only thing keeping you happy is casting. Jungkook asked you to make a list of all the actors that would suit his characters after giving you a vague description of their traits. The budget isn't an issue, and you're having so much fun. He makes you forget your worries without even trying.

Jungkook intimidates you, but he's so lovely.

A mere "aspiring" stylist is casting actors for a movie. How many people can brag about that? You almost stumble on the stairs as you quickly climb up with Jungkook's laptop in your hands. He gave it to you for research purposes as he drew a rough storyboard with Irene.

"I made a list," you exclaim brightly. Heads shoot in your direction and you sheepishly grin at your volume. Jungkook's eyes linger on your covered neck; it's almost like a collar.

He whistles and beckons you to sit next to him. You obey and anxiously present your list to the professionals; you have no idea how to go on about this task, and no one guided you. You're certain you look utterly amateur in front of them.

Irene is inspecting your list without hinting her thoughts as Jungkook asks, "who are your favorites?"

"Well, I think Kim Namjoon is um, suitable for the male lead's role and Joy-"

"It's decided then," he claps his hands twice without hearing out Irene who scowls at him.

"You're not cooperating with us," she voices in a complaint, "why are you always calling the shots on your own? These are major decisions-"

"Ms. Bae, don't take any offence now. I'm taking your opinions into accounts when I make these decisions. Unless you have an issue with something, let's not dwell on this, hm?"

She sighs as you stand there awkwardly. She's upset, but stays silent.

"The two leads are Kim Namjoon and Park Soo-young. The team will decide the rest of the cast, thank you," he informs you with a ghost of a smile.

"Of course," you breathe.

You don't know how long it is supposed to take to shoot a film, but surely it's not this fast paced. Jungkook is relentless with his production; there are hardly any breaks in between takes. There are bags under his eyes from pulling all nighters to work on his scripts.

He is a perfectionist and a hard worker, as you've come to find out. You feel bad for the amount of times the actors recited their lines when they didn't capture a scene right in Jungkook's eyes. It was an honor for you to meet these famous people beyond a screen, and you were strictly ordered to do Joy's makeup only. You are her stylist, but the professional one does help you after she's finished with Namjoon's.

"Cut," Jungkook says into the speaker. You're located in a rented mansion outside of the city, but you can't enjoy it when everyone is so stressed. "Start over from line "he's leeching off of you"."

Even actors can't hide their annoyance from having to do a 25th take of one scene. Jungkook pays them enough to go on with this torture however, so they have no room to complain.

They start over and you force yourself to watch them again and again.

"Oh my god, cut!" You can hardly resist groaning yourself. Everyone on set is overworked, and you know the director has it the worst, but it's overwhelming you too at this point. You flinch when your name is called. "Act Joy's lines, will you?"

"Me?" you point at yourself in surprise.

"Go ahead," he urges with a nod.

You have no idea how to act, and it's nervewracking having to do it in front of A-listers. You pick up the script handed to you from another woman and start reading:

"He's not leeching off of me," you pause to inhale shakily; your hands tremble from the heavy stares on you.

"I'm his family, the only one he has left. No one would know if he was gone, and he trusts me to look after him without having to dangle a dollar bill over his head."

This goes on until the final scene, and the retakes cut down to half.

A few months pass, and it is time for the premiere. The movie, simply titled Pretty Girl, easily got a green light for display in theatres, and it's been heavily promoted on YouTube and TV. You are excited to your core, and watching the celebrities walk the red carpet was a first for you. Jungkook easily blends in with the crowd as he once again didn't reveal his real name in the credits, but his pen name is gaining more and more recognition. You have never seen the movie throughout the editing procedure, but you can't wait to see everyone's efforts show on the big screen.

You're dressed fancily because Jungkook asked you to go with him, and the two of you are sitting in the crowded theatre with not a single empty seat to be seen. Even the entrance is decorated in retro style to fit in with the movie's theme! The jazz music playing in the halls reaches your ears, and your knees are bouncing in anticipation of the movie. Jungkook is smiling as he listens to you ramble.

"I can't believe I played a part in this whole project!" you gush with shaking fists. "I met the best director I know, and I worked for him! This all feels like a dream... No one even likes my style, and yet I became a stylist!"

"I love your style," he denies, "even now you have all the attention in the room."

"Pfft," you roll your eyes playfully, "they all think I must look weird. I tried to wear something classy so I don't stand out, but it hasn't been working out."

"Keep it that way, you're beautiful like this."

Heat creeps up to your cheeks at his compliment and you squeak, "thank you."

He doesn't get to relish your flustered state as everyone goes quiet once the movie starts.

The time period is unclear, as the language is modern but the filter is black and white. The first scene is in a bar, a man in a suit eyeing a woman with a date who is an outcast with his clothes. They're washed out and ugly, but he looks handsome with his dazzling smile at the woman.

An involuntary grin spreads across your face when you hear their dialogue.

"I want to touch someone's shoulder to see how they react. Did you see how they looked at me when I walked in here? I think they think I'm your sugar baby or something," Jimin's character jokes with a laugh.

"I know! They're all so boujee, but I'm willing to be your mommy without sugar," Joy winks. They have fun until Jimin leaves to the bathroom and Namjoon's character approaches her, who has been staring at her ever since they walked in. Joy is offered a modeling career, and she accepts after she's told that her fashion only works with her because of how beautiful she is. She's bashful when Namjoon gives her a business card.

Jungkook's film is only over an hour long, but everything is timed so perfectly. His directory is straightforward, and you admire his work until a song comes on.

"That's my favorite song!" you whisper into his ear. It's Space Song by Beach House.

"Mine too," he whispers back.

There are montages of photo shoots, Joy's rise to fame in the modeling industry, but the trouble is Jimin, her boyfriend. Namjoon confronts him one day when Jimin drops her off to her new workplace.

"How can someone so poor be able to court a woman like her?" he asks rhetorically.

"Excuse me, Sir?" Jimin is offended until Namjoon laughs it off and reveals it was a joke. The audience sighs in relief, and all is fun and games until Jimin is brutally murdered next to a dumpster. You gasp at the gore scene and glance at Jungkook, until something dawns on you.

The story is starting to sound familiar. Was this movie inspired by your encounters? Your eyes light up as you give your utmost attention to the movie. The line between reality and fiction is beginning to blur.

Joy goes to Namjoon's house, where the dialogue you first reenacted comes to play. The shots are gorgeous, the script filled with metaphors on poverty and currency, and the romance is sickly sweet. There is a sex scene not long after... Joy forgets all about her boyfriend in the snap of Namjoon's fingers.

You tilt your head when you remember Taehyung. Where is he? How come your boyfriend didn't even show up to this life-changing experience?

Jungkook's hand slides over your thigh out of nowhere, as he murmurs, "do you mind?"

You stammer when his fingers reach under your dress to poke at your panties. "S-Sorry?"

"I said," he grazes your folds as you tense at the feather light touch, "do you mind if I touch you, pretty girl?"

Your chest heaves as your lashes flutter in a daze, but you nod nonetheless. His low raspy voice already has you clenching your thighs, unintentionally trapping his hand against your pussy. He's gentle, almost curious with the way he runs his fingers over your silky underwear before he moves it to the side. You're shivering with delight and thrill, and you don't take your eyes off of each other as he begins to flick your clit carelessly.

"Looks so pretty on you," he compliments the makeshift choker on your neck. It's his handkerchief you wore for the occasion, unaware that it's dried with cum. He pulls on the knot like it's a collar, and you're entranced. Your pants fan his lips at the close proximity, and he doesn't shy away from slotting his mouth against yours. You quietly moan into the kiss when his thumb starts to rub your clit, and his long finger pokes at your entrance.

"You mind?" he murmurs against your lips, his words slightly slurred as he doesn't stop kissing you. The wet noises are drowned out by the loud volume of the movie, but you can't focus on what's going on.

"I don't," you breathe before he slips in two fingers, exploring your walls with precision. He's multitasking as he circles your sensitive clit, and you're not very experienced in regards to sexual encounters but your hand lands on his hard-on anyway.

"Don't be shy," he chuckles into your neck, "touch it."

You don't know what you're doing when you slip your hand under his pants and palm him over his briefs, but his sigh is encouraging you. You're touching each other in a room of 100 people.

It's embarrassing when his free hand joins yours to help you touch him while simultaneously fingering you. He must have sensed your lack of confidence, because he starts to stroke his erection over your hand. You start to imagine his fingers as the real thing, and with your particularly low stamina, have a hard time suppressing your whines.

"Kiss my neck," he suggests as a solution to your nibbling. You didn't even realize your nether lip is bleeding from how hard you were biting on it. You bury your head in his shoulder and start pecking his neck. He holds back a laugh at how shy you're being, and he feels proud for predicting this moment perfectly in the movie. Joy is having the time of her life with Namjoon, unaware of Jimin decaying in the attic.

He quickens his pace in your cunt, and you bite him rather harshly at the sensation. He hisses with a chuckle; he likes it when you're impulsive. He can pick up the squelches from his thrusts because of how wet you are, and you climax all over his fingers in a matter of seconds with a whimper. You're twitching in your seat, and your hand strokes him faster but he stops you.

"In my studio," he says and you nod tiredly against his shoulder. The issue isn't that he doesn't want to cum in his pants, but the movie needs to become reality. He wants to fuck you on that one stool, with Taehyung's corpse decomposing in the backroom.

Jungkook always adds a pinch of fiction to his stories, but they're mostly based on true events. If you paid attention to the ending, maybe you would've realized that.

Lying is bad, but there are worse things in life.

#bts imagines #bts fic #bts scenarios #bts x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #yandere jungkook #yandere bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook #jjk smut

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midnightstar-90 · 3 years

Text

The Replacement

Taglist | Request | Wattpad

Main Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist

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Bucky Barnes x Rogers! Reader

Summary: Bucky and Y/N fight together with Sam, to get information about the 'The Flag Smashers'. In the process, they meet John Walker (EW! 🤮) and his partner Lemar Hoskins (MEH. 😑), and no one a part of the trio are happy.

Warnings: Mentions of Hydra killing a baby, cursing, angst, SOFT! Bucky

A/N: I am very sorry it took me so long to post. A lot is going on for me, this summer.

Bonus Thoughts On John Walker:

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

Previously:

I walk into the bedroom, where I see Bucky laying down. I get into bed, thinking the man was asleep, but I was wrong. Right as I was going to turn the light off, Bucky turns to me and says, "So, you gonna explain what happened earlier?"

Y/N's POV

James and I were both tired the other day, so I told him a little bit of the story but held off the rest for another day. Every time James would look at me, he would give me a sad look. The worst part about me telling him was that we're getting married, and he has no idea about my Hydra life.

James came home from lunch with Yori. He threw his jacket onto the couch and called out my name. He looked around for a bit before noticing that I wasn't in the apartment. He grabbed his jacket again, making his way to the roof.

RI only come up to the roof when I'm upset, and he knew that. He sat down next to me, but we didn't look at each other. "You wanna tell me why you're upset?" he asks me, putting his hand on my leg.

I looked at his hand, and I said, "Those powers weren't the only thing I lied about. My whole Hydra life was a lie, and I was gonna keep that from you. We're getting married, and we don't even know the whole truth about each other."

"So, tell me about it. I want us to be able to talk to each other, or else we will be like those couples who get divorced after marriage counseling," James said, making me chuckle.

"Okay, here goes..."

January 1944

"After 4 months with the serum, the subject has so far experienced Telekinesis and light manipulation. We've had to sedate the subject after she threw a crew member into a machine with her mind. She now is ready for her second trial... Producing," Zola said into a camera.

I laid strapped down on a hospital bed, stripped naked. Zola came towards me, still talking to the camera. "We have obtained sperm from the subject's lover, Winter Soldier. With that, we will combine it with her egg to make a super soldier child."

I screamed as Zola came close to me with a catheter and syringe. He continued to work, even with me squirming. "The process shouldn't hurt, as long as you stay very still," Zola said, inserting the tube.

James finally looked at me with a glimpse of hope in his eye. "So, we have a kid?" James asks. Still not looking at him, I shook my head no, causing him to lose the happiness in his face.

"The baby was born, but the baby didn't meet their standards. The baby was too small. They said that he wasn't soldier material, kinda like Steve was," a tear rolled down my eye.

James held me close as I broke down. "I didn't even get to hold him," I sobbed into his chest. As he patted my back, I felt a tear drop onto my shirt.

He got himself together, and he stood up. He grabbed my hand, pulling me up. "Well, that's in the past. Now, we could make another, and you would get to hold, love, and pamper that baby," I smiled at his passion to have a child. I let him guide me back to our apartment.

When we got back, we got cozy in our pajamas, and we sat down to watch tv. We turned on the tv to see an interview with John Walker.

The more he talked, the more he riled me up. I still couldn't get over the fact that they gave my brother's shield away. They didn't even care how Sam, James, or I felt. No one could ever live up to my brother's name, and I will make sure that they know that. "I like to think that I modeled my work after his," John said during the interview.

I was calm until I heard that line. I quickly grabbed the lamp next to me, but it was as if James knew what I wanted to do. James grabbed my arm with one hand and took the lamp with the other. As soon as the lamp was out of my hand, I broke down. James just pulled my body into his, securing my arms with his.

"It's alright. Destroying the house isn't going to get the shield back. I am starting to think you need my therapy sessions more than I do," he tries to reassure me with jokes.

All I can do is settle into his arms. I get a call from Joaquin. I try to hold in my emotions, as James lets me go, to answer the phone.

"Hello," I answer the phone.

"Yeah, we have possible Flag-Smasher activity. I was hoping you and Sam could do the mission," the man says through the phone.

"Yeah, I'll be there in 3 hours," I respond and hang up.

I wasn't in the mood to fight, but it would be a good way to let out some steam. I leave James's arm's to get ready for the mission.

James gets up from his spot on the floor, and he follows me into our shared room. "Your leaving?" James asks, standing in the doorway.

I grab my suit, and I put it into my to-go bag, "Yeah, Captain Phoney isn't the only one who can save the world. Joaquin found Flag-Smasher activity, and Sam and I are going to investigate."

"Well, you are in no shape to fight," I glare at him, for making that comment.

"What I mean is, if John happens to be there, you wouldn't be able to handle him on your own. So, I'm suggesting I go with you," he smiles at me.

I look at him for a minute, before I make my decision. "You can come, but don't think I don't know you. You want to fight with Sam," I point at him, with a stern look.

🖤🖤🖤

Bucky sat in the driver's seat of the car, tapping his fingers to whatever song was playing on the radio. I sat next to him with my right arm holding my head, propped up on the door. I was silently watching the scenery pass us by when I fell into a daydream.

Daydream

I laid in James and my bed, asleep. I started to wake up when I felt something crawl up from the foot of the bed. "Mommy, it's time to wake up," I heard a little girl's voice.

I open my eyes to see a girl, about the age of 7, with shoulder-length Y/H/C hair, and gorgeous blue eyes, just like James'. She had a big smile as she continued to shake me awake. "Mommy, daddy said to wake up. He made breakfast," she said.

I smiled up at the girl before I tackled her, and started tickling her sides. "Oh really? Did daddy make breakfast?" the girl tried her best to nod while she died of laughter.

I stop tickling the girl and get off the bed. I'm turned around from the bed when the girl tackles me from behind. I hear a voice chuckle and say, "Wow, great attack Willow. I was starting to think your mommy wouldn't wake up, but I was wrong. You guys are having fun without me."

I look towards the location of the voice, and all I see is James run and tackle Willow and me back onto the bed. We all start cracking up in laughter before Willow says, "Daddy... I can't... breathe." James laughs before getting up. "Well, we should go eat before all the food goes cold," James says, helping pull us up.

We exit the room, and we walk down the hall of our beautiful house. When we get into the kitchen, I stop and stare at the interior. Everything, except for the chairs, was gold and white. There was a big kitchen island in the middle of the room.

📷

(Y/N's Dream Kitchen)

Willow and I sit down at the island, and Bucky heads towards the stove. When he turns towards us, he is carrying two plates. Our plates consist of strawberry pancakes, fresh fruit, bacon, and scrambled eggs. I look at the man with a dreamy look.

End of daydream

"Y/N... Y/N!" I shake my head when I hear someone call my name. Bucky looks at me and says, "We're here." I look out the windshield, and I see the air force hanger we were supposed to meet Joaquin at.

🖤🖤🖤

Narrator's POV

Y/N and Bucky waited for Joaquin and Sam, at the bottom of the stairs. Y/N saw a 'CAP IS BACK' poster, and immediately tore it off the wall.

"I knew I should have come. You can't even take a poster of him," Bucky says, earning himself another glare.

Sam saw the same poster coming into the building, but he just stared at it.

Joaquin came behind him, "Seems like a nice guy. You met him?"

"No," Sam replied.

"I am not his biggest fan right now. I had a 2-hour call from Y/N after the world learned about him. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna hear more soon, assuming you invited her. But, thank you for doing this on such short notice" Sam continued.

They start walking as Torres says, "Yeah. No sweat. I'm just finishing up the checklist. You guys will be all good to go once you land in Munich."

Joaquin and Sam walk down the stairs. Y/N gives Bucky a warning glare before Sam gets to the bottom of the stairs. I didn't want any problems with this mission.

Sam didn't even leave the stairs before Bucky started talking to Sam. "Shouldn't have given up the shield. It was hard enough for us to lose Steve, now Y/N only gets out of the bed to help you. Hopefully, we don't see him, because Y/N is damn near close to joining me in therapy," Bucky says, calling Y/N out.

"Good to see you too, Buck," Sam replies, with an eye roll.

Sam and Buck argue as they walk towards the plane. Y/N stays behind, waiting on Joaquin. What better way to forget about your problems than talking about your best friend's happy relationship. Little did she know, that is not what they were gonna talk about. Joaquin walks over to the woman, holding herself up with her foot to the wall.

"Hey, how are you?" The man asks Y/N.

The two start to walk behind the two men. Y/N just looks at the lieutenant, with a look that says 'seriously'. Joaquin looks away with a nod, embarrassed he asked a dumb question.

"Sorry, dumb question. What I should have asked was, other than the Captain America thing, how are you?" Joaquin corrects himself.

The girl looks towards the boy, "I have been too affected by his replacement. It's just hard to say that he's gone."

"I don't know if this is you confirming he's dead. If it helps, The man is nice. He's no Steve Rogers, but he wants to do some good," The man tries to comfort the girl.

Y/N walks up to Sam and Bucky, as they stop. She kisses Bucky, and she tells him that she'll see him on the plane. He nods and continues to argue with Sam. Y/N pats Sam's back, passing him.

"Anyways, it does help a little. It's not John's or Sam's fault that he's the new Captain America. All I know is, when my brother and boyfriend left me, I was kidnapped by hydra. I have reunited with Bucky shortly after, but we didn't remember each other. Steve and I reunited during the fight that marked him as a criminal.

My brother was not a criminal. Like Hydra couldn't change me, the government couldn't change my brother. When Thanos arrived, we still didn't get to hang out because I blipped with the others. My brother suffered 5 years alone, and when I get back he leaves me again.

I'm not mad at John. I guess I'm mad at the constant reminder of the man that I never got to know. Thank you, Joaquin. You helped me see what my real problem was," Y/N hugs him after her long rant.

Joaquin didn't see how he helped, but he took the girl's gratitude as an achievement.

"Also, I didn't say shit about Steve's status," She departs from the man with a smile.

Joaquin chuckles, going to make sure the plane was ready for take-off. Sam and Bucky walk onto the plane, and they sit across from each other, with Y/N next to him. Bucky stares at the man across from him.

We make it to Munich when Joaquin announces, "One minute to drop off, guys."

"Let me jump first. The amount of testosterone on this plane is killing me," Y/N says, watching the men stare at each other.

Y/N gets up from her seat, and she walks over to Joaquin.

"I'm serious," she looks at the man, seriously. "I want to go first," she continues.

"Okay, but we're too low for a parachute," he warns her.

"I'll be okay. Have you ever played the overrated game, Fortnite," Y/N asks Joaquin?

She grabs a glider, and she makes her way to the door. She gives Joaquin a thumbs up. The door opens, but she doesn't get the go signal.

"So, what's the plan," Bucky asks Sam.

Sam ignores Bucky. Sam looks around Bucky, at Y/N.

"Y/N! I'll send you the plan," He yells at the only girl, earning a thumbs up.

"Great, so you aren't going to tell me the plan," Bucky says towards Sam.

Joaquin gives the 30 seconds signal. "Enjoy your ride Buck," Sam comments.

"No, you can't call me that." "Why not? That's what Steve and Y/N called you."

"They knew me longer, and they had a plan," Bucky tells the superhero.

"Are you two gonna fight the whole mission, because I'm 'bout to jump, without the glider," I tell the two.

Joaquin gives Y/N the go-ahead. "You're making your girl want to jump, man," Y/N hears Sam say, about to jump from the plane. Y/N jumps off the plane with the glider.

The view from where she was was amazing. She wished she could fly, like a bird. Birds don't have the same worries she does. What Y/N needed was a vacation, away from everything. She glided between the trees before she landed.

Y/N watched Sam land, right next to her. He pulled out Redwing and activated it. Y/N knew he was gonna mess with Bucky. Redwing went towards the plane. And, it watched James entire jump from the plane. He landed on his back with much pain.

Sam guided redwing towards Bucky's face. "I have all of that on camera. You know that, right?" Sam says through redwing's coms. Y/N rolls her eyes, at the man's antics.

After that jump, Bucky was not in the mood. "Get out of my face, Sam, or I'll break it," Bucky warned Sam.

"Just lead him to us, Sam," Y/N tells her partner, ready to finish the mission.

"Okay, head north. Come on," Sam leads Bucky.

Bucky makes his way over to the two. Y/N is quick to make sure he's okay. After looking her fiance over, She pulls him into a hug. While in the hug, Bucky stares into space.

"You're doing the staring thing again," Sam tells Bucky.

Y/N releases the hug, and Sam continues, "They're in there."

Redwing scopes out the place. We all watch the camera feed.

"Where's the guy?" Bucky asks.

"I don't know, but Y/N and I think they could be smuggling weapons, though," Sam says.

"Well, I think you could be right. But, there's only one way to find out," Bucky says, continuing to stare at Sam. "I see a clear path. I say we take it," Y/N knew what he was gonna do.

"We're not assassins," Sam tries to change Bucky's mind. Bucky stares at the man for a couple more seconds before speaking. "I'll see you inside or not," Bucky tells Sam, walking off.

"Bucky, you can't just walk into a fight. You don't know how many men could be out there. We don't even know what type of weapons they have their hands on," Y/N catches up with the ex-assassin, trying to stop him.

Sam and Bucky continue to go at each other. Whether it is warnings, jokes, or even just coming up with a plan, the boys still seem to annoy Y/N. Little did they know, Y/N wasn't following any of their plans. Y/N left the boys to get a closer look.

"Guys, I spot 5 guys in total," Y/N says through her coms.

The boys hear the girl speak, making them jump.

"Where are you, Y/N?" Bucky asks while looking around.

"I moved up to get a closer look. You two bickering is not getting the job done. I just want to go home," Y/N tells the boys.

Sam checks to see if Y/N is right, "Well, let me see what Redwing sees. And... Y/N is... correct. There are 5." Y/N pats herself on the back, knowing the boys couldn't see her.

Y/N's celebration gets cut short when she hears, "There's an eighth person. I think they have a hostage."

Y/N being close to the truck, she jumps onto the back. She sees Sam and Bucky following them. Sam flew over her. Bucky runs past Y/N, and she jumps on the back of the truck, in front of her. Bucky opens the truck doors and starts searching for the hostage.

While looking he also finds containers full of medicine. "They're stealing medicine. vaccines," he tells Y/N and Sam. Bucky continues to look around, and he finds the hostage. As Bucky tries to communicate with her, Y/N climbs on top of the truck she's hanging off of, and she makes her way towards the truck Bucky is on.

Y/N continues to walk towards Bucky when she sees her fiance fly out of the truck in front of her. She runs towards Bucky.

"Shit," she hears Bucky say.

"You okay? I'm starting to think she isn't a hosta-" Y/N gets cut off before getting pulled apart from Bucky. Two men grab ahold of Bucky, as the "hostage" puts on her Flag-Smasher mask.

The "hostage" climbs on top of the truck that Y/N, Bucky, and the guys holding them back were. The girl punches Bucky. Making her way over to Y/N, she gets stopped by Redwing shooting at her. She makes her way to the robot, and she grabs it and breaks it.

"I always wanted to do that," Bucky says, struggling to get out of the men's grip.

Y/N goes into assassin mode. It was very hard to make Y/N this violent, but she knew that the threat was stronger than all of them. Y/N kicks the man holding her, in the shin. She then takes his arm, picking him up, and flips him onto his back. The man lays there dazed. Sam flys into the fight, by kicking the girl, causing her to fall back.

Y/N goes over to Bucky and punches one of the guys holding him back. The man falls back, letting go of Bucky's arm. Bucky goes to punch the other guy. Y/N kicks the man off the truck, but the man is hanging onto the edge. Another man joins the fight, throwing Bucky onto the truck Y/N was hanging off of. Bucky gets held onto by two more guys. Sam is held down by two other guys. The guy that Y/N kicked off the truck and the girl went after Y/N.

Before Y/N could get hit, a shield hits the man. Y/N looks up to see a helicopter, with John Walker ready to jump out. "What the fu-" Y/N gets out before getting punched by the girl. Y/N takes advantage of the supersoldier serum in her veins and dominates the girl. Y/N right hooks the girl, with anger. When the girl goes to punch her again, Y/N drops down and trips her with a slide kick.

📷

(I always thought that Natasha was the best fighter, so she inspired some of the fighting techniques.)

The girl gets up but is instantly back on the floor when a man jumps out of the helicopter and kicks her back down. John helps everyone by taking down at least one person, from each fight. The man who helped me and John did some type of arm clap, which made Y/N cringe.

"Sam. John Walker. Captain America," John introduces himself.

"Lemar Hoskins," the man who helped Y/N, introduces himself also.

"Looks like you guys could use some help," John says before the girl tries to attack him from behind. He hits her with the shield, and it ricochets onto a man behind John. Bucky then catches the shield before it can hit John.

Bucky and Y/N jump onto the other truck, to help Sam. Three guys hold onto Sam, keeping him from flying off. Bucky punches one of the guys in midair. Y/N punches the guy on Sam's right. Bucky fights the guy on Sam's left, and Sam gets the other guy. During Bucky's fight, he gets punched, making him fall back and fall off the truck. He quickly grabs ahold of the doorstep.

"JAMES!" Y/N yells, kicking the guy in his chest. The guy falls off the truck, and Y/N runs over towards Bucky. She tries to help him, but the girl pulls her back. She takes the opportunity to slide down the side of the truck and try to stomp Bucky's metal arm off the truck. Y/N doesn't let the girl win, so she pulls the girl back onto the truck. With that, she punches the girl several times in the face.

Sam tries to grab Bucky, but one of the drivers swerves the truck, not allowing Sam to fit. Y/N loses her balance, allowing the girl to get up, and return the punches. Sam falls back, and he decides to go under the truck to get Bucky. When Y/N sees Sam grab Bucky, she abandons the mission and jumps off the truck. Leaving John and Lemar to fight for their own.

Y/N walks up to the boys in the field. "Well, that was a bust. But, at least we know what we're dealing with. Supersoldiers," Y/N tells the boys.

"I think we figured that out when we got our asses kicked," Sam jokes.

Y/N kicks his side, earning a groan. She then helps the boys up. They start their walk to the base.

"Sorry about Redwing," Bucky says, earning a scoff from Y/N.

"No, you're not," Sam responds. "What's going on in that big cyborg brain of yours?" Sam continues to speak.

"It's computing," Sam and Y/N chuckle at the comment.

Sam turns towards Y/N, "You know what? I can actually see it. I can see the gears turning. Oh, they're malfunctioning, shutting down. Yep, they're on fire. Your cyborg finance is malfunctioning. You better fix 'em, Y/N"

Y/N laughs at her friend's joke. "We gotta figure out where the serum's coming from," Bucky says all serious.

"Why so serious, babe? Is it because you got your ass handed to you... By a girl," Y/N asks her lover.

Sam high fives Y/N before saying, "Yeah, and how the hell after 80 years is there super soldiers running around."

Y/N's POV

John and his crew started trailing next to us. When John tried to speak I tuned out. I tried my best not to look at him, or else all those emotions I felt earlier, would come out. The man carries my brother's shield, without my permission, and then he thinks he can just be friends with me. I know it is not his fault, but the man doesn't deserve that shield. I knew Bucky agreed with me.

I listen back into the conversation. "All right, well then we gotta work together," John tells us.

"That's not happening." "HELL NO," Bucky and I say at the same time.

"I think we stand a much better chance if we all just..." John tries to convince us.

"Just 'cause you carry that shield, it doesn't mean you're Captain America," Bucky says what we both were thinking. John tries to convince us that he is Captain America material. The whole thing reminded me of the spoiled kid getting something, and all the others call him out.

John invites us to ride with him to the airport, and Bucky looks at me. I pull Bucky to the side and say, "James, I can't take the constant reminder of Steve, for 20 miles. He doesn't deserve that shield, but he keeps flaunting it around like a kid."

Bucky grabs my arms, "I know how you feel, babe. I miss Steve too, but it is a 20-mile walk."We walk back over to the vehicle and we accept John's offer. As soon as I get into the vehicle, I immediately want to get out.

John looks at me as I sit down. He holds out his hand for a handshake, but I don't reciprocate the action. Embarrassed, he pulls back his hand, but soon regains his composure and says, "Hello, you must be Y/N Rogers. It's an honor to meet you. I am one of your brother's biggest fans. I'm Jo-" I cut him off, "I know who you are, and to be honest you don't deserve that shield."

I look at the man seriously before I feel a hand pull me towards a well-sculpted body. Bucky holds me, and covers my mouth with his metal hand, to keep me from talking. He knows that if he lets me talk, all my feelings about the man will lay out. The man knows me so much, and that is why I love him.

"Anyway, we've got eight Super Soldiers on a bulk supply run... Why," John tries to change the subject.

"They say their mission is to get things back to the way it was during The Blip. Maybe they're just trying to help," Sam offers an idea.

Bucky removes his hand from my mouth, trusting me not to say anything. "They had a funny way of showing it," he responds to Sam's idea.

"That serum doesn't exactly have a great track record. No offense," John says. Bucky and I glare at the star-spangled man.

"We need to figure out how to track them. How'd you track 'em here? The Flag Smashers?" Sam asked the duo.

Lemar and John explain how the government (I guess them 😑) used redwing to track their movements. James and I were pissed since before we met the boys, but Sam was beyond pissed. The tech that made him 'The Falcon' was tracking his every move, and reporting it back to "the government". I would too if it were me. Luckily, I don't have anything that can't be easily taken from me.

Bucky and I continued to glare at John. He didn't seem comfortable with it, but it wasn't meant for you to feel comfortable. "Do they always just stare like that?" John asked Sam.

"Y/N, not unless you've done something, but Bucky... you get used to it," Sam tells John in response to his question. I adjust in my seat so that I could cuddle with Bucky but continue to stare at John.

John and Lemar start explaining (Mansplaining in my case) how the GRC is trying to get things back to normal. When asked why they were here with us, their exact words were, "Well, they provide the resources and we keep things stable." Who are they? Because what I saw on those trucks were two boys that didn't know what they were doing. We may have gotten our asses handed to us, but when they got there, everything turned worse.

"Yeah, violent revolutionaries aren't usually good for anyone's cause," John said.

"Usually said by the people with the resources," Sam and I said together.

"We got a lot of resources. If you guys joined up with us-" John didn't get to finish before James interrupted with a "no".

"I got mad respect for all three of y'all, but y'all were getting your asses kicked before we showed up," Lemar said, looking at us.

"I'll show you what getting your ass kicked looks like," I said as my hands started to heat up. James held me tight, cooling me off. Lemar held his hands up in surrender.

When Sam asked who John's partner was, he only responded with his name. A name wasn't gonna do for us. (Trust Issues) "I'm Battlestar. John's partner," Lemar told us.

"Battlestar?" Bucky asked. I just shook my head as I made the car stop. Everyone, except Bucky and I, freaked out over the sudden stop. I looked at the two emotionless before hopping out of the vehicle. Bucky followed me out of the vehicle.

"I get it. I understand the attitude. You didn't think that the shield was gonna end up here, Y/N. And I'm... I'm not trying to be Steve. I'm not trying to replace Steve," that was all I heard before I walked off. I couldn't be around them anymore. That would only end up with me being in the same place as Bucky, or worse, the raft.

Taglist: @geek-and-proud @brokensunglasses

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distance-does-not-matter · 3 years

Note

kanej Ted talk pls?

Oh boy now I have to remember my talk

Well, it’s interesting to trace the development in their relationship. When it first starts out, even before the book starts, it’s strictly business. He’s Dirtyhands, and she’s his Wraith, his thief of secrets. And then she begins to steal his secrets. Not to sell them, of course, just to have. He begins to trust her. He takes her on missions. They have each other’s backs. By the time the book starts, he trusts her enough to take off his shirt and, more importantly, his ever-present gloves in front of her. A Big Deal when it comes to Kaz, right?

And he calls her endearments, but it’s sarcasm, and she teases right back. (”Please, my darling Inej, treasure of my heart, won’t you do me the honor of acquiring me a new hat?” “Have a long trip down.”) Against their better wishes and instincts, they’ve become friends. And having friends is dangerous in the Barrel, especially when your friends are the most deadly things in the Barrel.

Next comes the departure for the Ice Court, and Inej is injured in the course of rescuing her teammates. Severely injured. Kaz goes ballistic. Rips a man’s eye out and then throws him overboard. And he says something very interesting, a clue of how much he’s come to lean on Inej without even knowing: “My Wraith would counsel mercy. But thanks to you, she’s not here to plead your case.” She’s become his conscience, the mercy to his ruthlessness. She retains her goodness for both herself and Kaz, while Kaz has long since cast it aside.

Here, Inej acknowledges her feelings for Kaz, as well as their stupidity. He is the deadliest thing in the Barrel, and her cheeks heat when she sees him shirtless. (It takes him days to work up the courage to talk to her.)

We get to the trek to the Court. Kaz and Inej are a duo, Kaz&Inej, working in sync. They know each other’s every trick, every turn of phrase. Inej knows how Kaz will lock himself in. Inej knows when Kaz faints. Inej wakes Kaz up. Inej brings Kaz back to himself. (”Better it should be her.”)

He hates to reveal weakness, but he begins to reveal it to Inej.

I can’t remember if he ever addresses his feelings for Inej before this, but if he doesn’t, then this could be seen as a good start-point. Inej has become his second in command, his moral compass, and now, his confidante. Or, the closest thing a boy called Dirtyhands has to a confidante.

They break into the Ice Court. Kaz is loathe to leave Inej. Inej climbs the incinerator shaft. She gives Kaz back his gloves, his armor. She tells him she’ll leave Ketterdam. He hates it, and he welcomes it. He will let her go.

He is almost drowning, he is a child again, helpless and dying, and still he thinks of her. He has to make sure she’s safe. He has to rescue her if she isn’t.

On the return to Ketterdam, he asks her to stay (”Stay. Stay in Ketterdam. Stay with me.”) And she would, but his armor is still on. He is still wearing his gloves. He still will not meet her eyes. And so she leaves him to his armor.

She is his weakness on Vellgeluk. She is captured, and he is left with naught but his rage and his reputation. ‘I’m going to get my money. And I’m going to get my girl. Dirtyhands had come to see the rough work done.’ His gloves are very firmly on.

In Crooked Kingdom, he leans into his reputation to get Inej back. He is ruthless and brutal and he and his crew offer a pregnant woman biscuits and massages. Despite himself, Inej is getting to him. But his growth is his and his alone. He will have to do the work.

Without meaning to, Kaz chooses a geranium barge for his plans. Inej’s mother’s favorite flower. I have to wonder if Kaz stored that detail away in his brain for a later, quieter moment. (A few geraniums, tied together, left on Inej’s doorstep. A calling card, a love letter. She picks them up and smiles.)

He is more open with her. She knows more of his secrets. She knows about Jordie long before he mentions him to Jesper. And yet, they are still not totally honest. He is still working through his trauma.

But they are making strides. (”Curse you and all your saints,” he said to no one at all, then realized he was smiling.) (Nina knew that look. It came after the shipwreck, when the tide moved against you and the sky had gone dark. It was the first sight of land, the hope of shelter and even salvation that might await you on a distant shore.) (”I would come for you. And if I couldn’t walk, I’d crawl to you, and no matter how broken we were, we’d fight our away out together--knives drawn, pistols blazing. Because that’s what we do. We never stop fighting.”)

Later, in the bathroom, they fight through their trauma. Kaz touches her with bare skin and fights to stay in the moment. He fights for more. He cannot stop the waves that drag him back. But he hates them, every moment of them.

The rest of Crooked Kingdom comes in a tumble of blood, sweat, tears, revenge, and smiles. (She smiled then, her eyes red, her cheeks scattered with some kind of dust. It was a smile he thought he might die to earn again.)

And at the end, the very end, he is without armor, and he is willing to let her go. He holds her hand, gives her what she needs for her chosen mission, and her heart’s desire. He gives her a ship and a berth and he is willing to let her leave. She is the one who tells him she’ll come back. She is the one who tells him to come meet her parents.

(”Is my tie straight?” “That’s the laugh.”)

This is entirely too many paragraphs to talk about the fact that at the end of Six of Crows, Kaz is possessive and gives too little, and his growth is that, at the end of Crooked Kingdom, he gives her all she wants and asks for precious little in return. (”Say you’ll return.”) He sets aside his gloves for her, his armor.

She has him without armor.

#soc #six of crows #Kanej #idk why this is so long but I hope you enjoy it and all the quotes I pulled from the books

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atlafan · 4 years

Text

Costumes Galore - One Shot

a/n: this one was based off a few asked for my Halloween themed one shot requests. A lot of you wanted to something around a costume rental store, so I just made Harry the owner of that store! Feedback and reblogs are helpful, hope you enjoy! (not proofread)

Warnings: pining, smut, friends to lovers

Words: 8.7K

Don’t ask him how, but Harry is the owner of a costume rental shop. He was a business major in university, and with some luck and patience, he was able to take over the very shop he worked in as a teenager. Halloween was his busiest season, of course, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t doing well year round. He would give deals to the local schools and community theaters, and people who dressed as characters for parties would come see him. So, needless to say, business was steady. He often had big sales right after Halloween, and people would come in and clean him out.

Preparing for Halloween was his favorite thing to do. As soon as it was September 1st, he would transform his shop, pulling out tons of decorations, and putting out different bowls of candy. He liked making his customers happy, and everyone usually left satisfied. His changing rooms were comfortable and spotless, and he even set up backdrops in the lounge area for people to take Halloween pictures of their kids. People would come in to do that all year to save time and money. He was a smart business man. Harry did most of the work himself, he had a couple of teenagers that worked for him after school, but other than that it was all him. He didn’t mind, it gave him the control he needed over his shop, and he just didn’t have the money to pay someone for full-time help. He was only entering the fourth year of owning the place, after all.

Harry enjoyed the small traditions the downtown area had. Every year on October 30th, all of the shops would open their doors so kids could come trick or treat. It was a great way to give out pamphlets and coupons, while also getting to know the people that lived in the area. He loved kids, so when Harry was told about the tradition by his shop neighbor he got right on it, splurging for the king sized candy bars.

It was getting to be that time of year again, just about the end of September, his shop was looking good, and the Halloween crowds had slowly been trickling in and out. He was at the register when he heard the chime of the bell he keeps above the door to signal someone was coming in. It was a beautiful young woman, and she made Harry’s mouth run dry.

“Hello.” She says shyly as she walks up to the counter.

“Hi.” He swallows, and then smiles. “May I help you find something? Picking a costume up?” He moves to walk into the back door to see what reservations he had left for the day, but she stops him.

“No, um, I was wondering, actually, if you were hiring seasonally? I’m a grad student at the local university, and I could really use the extra cash before the holidays approach.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t expecting such a blunt and honest answer. “Well, I usually only hire high school students…it’s a bit easier to pay them under the table.”

“I don’t mind! I have another job at the university I get a pay stub for and all that, I really just need the extra money for the season. If you’re not hiring it’s okay, I can check with the other shops, I just figured since this is a costume shop you’d be getting really busy soon.”

“You figured correctly.” He sighs. “Do you have much experience in retail?”

“Oh, sure, tons! I worked in a grocery store when I was a teenager, so I know how to work a register, and then in undergrad I worked at an Old Navy, so I know how to fold clothes properly and check inventory.” She pulls a folded piece of paper out of her back pocket. “Here’s my resume, not the most professional way of showing it, but I brought it nonetheless.” She unfolds it and slides it on the counter towards him.

Harry takes it and furrows his brows as he reads it over. Seems like she was in her first year of grad school, but had graduated from her undergrad a couple of years ago. Her undergraduate degree was in social work, and it looks like she had been working in an office for a couple of years. Now she was going for a graduate degree in school counseling. She had plenty of experience, that wasn’t his worry, he just wasn’t sure he would be able to properly compensate her.

“My busiest hours during the season tend to be between 3 and 7PM, and then I’m swamped on Saturdays. How many hours a week do you think you could work?”

Her features soften as she perks up from his question.

“I’m honestly free by four most days, and Saturdays are no problem. Well, as long as I don’t have to be up at the crack of dawn.” She chuckles. “I’m no good early in the morning. I could do Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday if that works for you?”

“I wouldn’t be able to pay you more than ten dollars an hour, and you’d need to keep track of things on your own. I expect the honor system too, no trying to stiff me.”

“That’s perfect!” She was doing the math in her head. “Do you close right at seven? Would I stay after to close up?”

“Probably would need you here until eight. Saturday I’m open eleven to five, would need you here ten to six for that.”

She furrows her brows as she thinks about it. That would roughly come to about twenty hours a week, which was exactly what she was looking for. Then that would be $200 extra in her pocket a week, or $400 if he decides to pay her bi-weekly, and she wouldn’t have to worry about a dime of it coming out for taxes.

“Well, uh…”, she squints at his nametag, “Harry, I think we have a deal.” She smiles and extends her hand for him to shake. He takes it gently and smiles at her. “When can I start?”

“Why don’t you come in this Saturday around 9:30? I can go over everything with you without have to rush. There’s a little kitchen in the back and all that so feel free to leave food here if you feel like packing a lunch or snacks. I also keep a lot of snacks around.”

“Works for me.” She shrugs. “If you’re here until eight most days, what time do you usually open?”

“Around ten, I get here for nine.”

“Those are long days.”

“I don’t mind it, there’s always a lot to do.” It’s quiet between them for a moment.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to it. See you Saturday!” She beams.

“Wait, uh, the door will be locked when you get here, and I can’t just give you a key, barely know you.” He chuckles. “But here.” He grabs a business card and writes his cell phone number on it. “Just text me when you get here, and I’ll let you in.”

“Perfect.” She looks at the card. “Thanks, Mr. Styles.”

“Stick with Harry, we don’t need to be so formal.”

“Alright, thanks, Harry.”

Out the door she goes feeling way better than when she walked in. He wondered how close in age they might be, she had to be around the same age as him, if not only a year or so younger. It would be nice working with someone he could actually talk to. He likes the teenagers, but sometimes he just had no idea what they were talking about.

Saturday morning Y/N isn’t sure what to wear. Harry hadn’t said anything about a uniform, so she decides on a pair of khakis and a black polo to at least look the part of a retail worker. She tucks the shirt in to look professional, and to make sure she looked cute. She puts her hair up in a ponytail, and out the door she goes. She grabs a coffee from the shop across from Harry’s, and takes out her phone to text him.

Y/N: Good morning, Harry! It’s Y/N, I’m outside the shop 😊

She sips her warm drink as she waits for him to appear in the windows. She smiles as she sees him walking up, and he opens the door for her.

“Morning, Y/N.” He smiles, voice still a little gravelly from sleep. It makes her blush.

“Morning.” She nods as she walks in. “Oh…I should have asked you if you wanted a coffee.” She frowns at herself. “I’m sorry.”

“No worries, had mine a little while ago. I should’ve asked you if you wanted anything.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Anyways…”, he looks her up and down, “don’t feel like you need to dress so…well, I should have texted you about attire. Um, you can wear pretty much whatever you want. I just ask if you wear jeans that they’re not ripped, and if you wear leggings make sure you’re bum is covered. You never know what kind of old creeps might be coming in here to steal glances.” She nods at him and follows him behind the register and into the back room. “So this is where I keep reserved costumes. People will call ahead sometimes with their measurements and what they need.” He opens another door that leads into a breakroom. It was small kitchen with a slop sink, decent sized fridge, microwave, blender, toaster, and hot plate on the counters.

“I think you have every appliance known to man.” She laughs.

“Well, I can’t exactly have an oven in here, so I stalked up on other things. There’s some small pots if you feel like having pasta, that’s why I have the hot plate, you just need to remember to unplug it when you’re done. Turns out a lot of clothes are flammable, go figure.” His jokes makes her giggle, and he likes the sound of it. “And then through this door is the office. I have some lockers in here so you can hang your coat up, or put a bag away. Bring a lock if you feel like it, but I promise not to steal your things if you promise not to steal mine.”

“Promise.” She nods. “Where are the bathrooms?”

“In the back of the store along with the dressing rooms. We’ll get there in a moment. Every night I have a cleaning crew come in to make sure everything is spick and span, but accidents happen during the day sometimes so it’s on us to clean that up when it occurs.”

“No problem there. I used to clean the bathrooms at the grocery store all the time. Not my favorite thing to do, but I’m no stranger to it.”

He nods and then leads her back out to the register. He explains how he bookkeeps, and how important it is to save every receipt. Then he takes out what looks like a magazine that explains all of the types of costumes and accessories he keeps. He essentially had the shop on a grid system so everything was easy to find. She would need to learn this so she could properly help the customers. Then he leads her to the back of the store, shows her the dressings rooms and bathrooms, and then to the very back room where all of the storage was.

“Holy shit.” She says to herself. “You could get lost in here.” She swallows.

“You shouldn’t need to come back here too much. I usually have what people need out front, but sometimes you may need to snag some things from here. Mostly shoes.” He takes her back into the main area and into the office so they can sit. “I have cameras just about everywhere. Kids can sometimes pocket the costume jewelry. I have security codes for the doors as well, but I’ll always be here before you, so you won’t ever have to open, or close for that matter.”

“Okay.”

“What’s your class schedule like?”

“I have classes on Mondays and Wednesdays, and then on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays I go to a middle school for my practicum hours. I’m hoping to become an adjustment counselor, you know, helping students with more serious issues.”

“At the middle school level no less, wow.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Good for you.”

“Thanks.” She smiles.

“You said you had a job at the university too, how do you have the time for that?”

“Oh, I get a stipend as a TA.” She shrugs. “The classes I actually take are online, so I have plenty of time. This is just for the season anyways, so it’s fine.”

“Right.” He opens his desk drawer and slides a nametag towards her. “There you are, no you’re a proper employee.”

“Thank you.” She takes it and puts it on, her tongue slightly peeking out as she does so. “So, how do I get paid? Are you gonna sneak me an envelope every week?” She chuckles.

“That’s the plan, yeah. The pay period will be like Saturday to Saturday, so I’ll pay you on Fridays, sound good?”

“Sounds great! Thank you again. I’ve been budgeting just fine and making things work, but things add up during the holidays: dinners, gifts, parties, all that stuff, and I just wanted to have some extra cushion.”

“I think that’s really smart. It’s nice to see you don’t mind working hard.”

“How did you come to own a costume shop?”

“Worked here as a teenager, so after uni the old man was selling it and he took a chance on me. Been running it for four years now.”

“Shit, you’re really young to be doing all of this.” She looks at him wide eyed. “I still have to call my mom to ask her if I should separate my delicates from the rest of my wash, and here you are…owning and running a business.”

Harry swallows, and nods at her.

“Um, let me show you how the register works, and then we can open up.”

They get up and go back out front. He shows her the prices for everything that he keeps on a laminated sheet of paper. She listens to him intently, nodding along and taking mental notes.

It was a little slow in the beginning, so Harry has Y/N put away some costumes that people left in the dressing rooms. A small rush comes in right at noon, and they work together to get everyone settled.

“No, I wanna be Batman!” Y/N hears a small girl whale out at her father.

“But you’d look so pretty as Cinderella, honey.” He pleads with his daughter.

“Pardon me.” Y/N says. “We have tons of Batman costumes in girls sizes.” She smiles.

“You do?” He asks her.

“Sure! Lots of girls like dressing up like super heroes, and their costumes cover up a lot more, so it’s much more practical. She’ll stay warm and won’t trip over a long dress.” She leads them over to the area. “And she’ll still look plenty cute.”

“Alright.” He sighs with defeat. “Batman it is.”

“Yay!” The little girl exclaims as she snatches a costume off the rack.

Y/N looks over and sees that Harry was watching the interaction. He gives her a thumbs up, and goes back to the register. They take their lunch breaks at different times, and when the end of the day comes she lingers while he checks everything over at his desk.

“You can go, Y/N. Good first day.”

“I…well, this is sort of embarrassing, but I walked here because I live close by, but it’s raining…”

“Oh…you need a ride?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.” Her face flushes. “I can order an uber if you-“

“I don’t mind.” He gives her a soft smile. “Sit on the couch if you like, I’ve got a few things I need to finish up.”

She nods and does as he says. She scrolls through her apps on her phone while she waits for him. She hears him sigh, and he knuckles at his eyes before standing up.

“Alright, let’s go. Where do you live?”

“Just over at The Ledges.”

“No shit? I live there too.”

“Seriously?!” She stands. “Okay, now I don’t feel bad.” She chuckles.

“No need to feel bad regardless.” He puts his coat on, grabs his keys, and they head out. He double checks that the doors are locked, and they make their way to his car. He even opens the door for her. “What building are you in?”

“Five, you?”

“Three. Got a roommate or anything?”

“Yeah, I live with a girl in the same program as me. She’s nice enough, we’re still getting to know each other, but we like a lot of the same movies and music, so it’s been easy to hang out when we have time. What about you?” She tucks some loose strands of hair behind her ear. “Got a roommate?”

“Nope.” He says proudly. “Can finally afford to live on my own, which has been nice.”

“Doesn’t that get lonely, though?”

“Not really.” He shrugs. “Most of my time is spent at the shop talking to people all day, so I don’t really mind the quiet once I’m home.”

“Not even a pet to keep you company?”

“I’ve just learned to take care of myself properly, I don’t think I’m quite ready to keep another thing alive.” She laughs at that and it makes him smile.

“You’re really funny, you know that?” He pulls up to her building once he’s turned into the complex. “Thank you so much for the ride, I really appreciate it. I definitely would have caught a cold if I walked in that rain.”

“Anytime, seriously, don’t be afraid to ask.”

She nods and gets out. He makes sure she’s inside before making the turn to his own building.

Harry drove Y/N home most evenings. Her help was the best he’s had in a long time, maybe he could afford to hire her on like a regular employee…only if she wanted. She was personable with the customers, and he noticed she’d pick an accessory to wear during all of her shifts to get into the Halloween spirit. One day it was a tiara and a sash, another day it was cat ears, and another it was devil’s horns. Harry would mostly wear graphic tees with old movie posters on them. She thought it was cute. Y/N noticed how well Harry was with the customers too. The kids adored him, so it seemed.

It really didn’t take much for Y/N to develop a crush on Harry. From the moment she walked into his shop she thought he was handsome, but as she got to know him she realized his personality was just her type. She tried to be sneaky decipher whether he was seeing someone or not. There were no pictures of girls on his desk, other than a family photo of him, his mother, and sister. Harry wore a lot of rings, but nothing that screamed he was in a relationship or married. Surely he would mentioned it by now if he was, right? She even got a glimpse at his lock screen on his phone, and all it was, was a picture of a sunflower.

“Just ask him out, Y/N.” Her roommate, Ronnie, says to her one evening over wine and popcorn as they watch The Addams Family. “What do you have to lose?”

“My job.”

“You’re a seasonal employee. As soon as Halloween hits, you’re done there.”

“Not true, he asked me to stay through November. He has sales throughout November so people can buy costumes at a discount. Also, a ton of people come to get fitted for Santa costumes, so I’ll be there a bit longer than anticipated.” She takes a sip from her glass. “I think that if he liked me he would have made a move.”

“He could be thinking the exact same thing about you! And from what you’ve told me, he seems either too shy or too respectful to do something like that. I mean, you work for him, he wouldn’t want you to think he was harassing you.”

“Hm, I never thought of it like that.” She chews on her bottom lip. “Maybe…maybe I could ask him to dinner one night after work. That wouldn’t be totally weird, would it? He drives me home anyways…”

“I think that’s a great idea. Totally casual, off the cuff.”

“Exactly, like, smooth…cool.” She takes a bite of some popcorn. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

“Y/N, you wrangle middle school kids for half the week, asking a guy out should be a cakewalk.”

Saturday Y/N decides to wear a sweater dress over some leggings, and goes with a small witch’s hat that’s on a headband to add some flare to her look. Harry had given her a key since he trusted her, so she lets herself in. She goes right to the back to go say hello. Harry was in the kitchen finishing up his coffee.

“Morning.” He says to her.

“Morning.” She takes a deep breath. “Um, do you have plans tonight, like, after work?”

He furrows his brows as he thinks about it, taking one final sip of his coffee before rinsing his mug in the sink.

“Don’t think so, why?” He almost wished he had made something up. It was sort of lame to not have plans on a Saturday night, wasn’t it?

“Well, I was wondering if I could take you to dinner…” His eyes grow wide at her, so she back-peddles. “You know, as a thank you for being so great to me, and driving me home and stuff.”

“You…you don’t have to thank me for anything, Y/N. You’ve been the best temp I’ve ever hired.” He watches as she looks down at her feet. “But, um, dinner sounds good either way.”

“Really?” She perks up as she makes eye contact once again.

“Yeah, where were you thinking?”

“Nowhere special…do you like Mexican? We could go to Chipotle…” It sounded awful leaving her lips, but it was all she could really afford at the moment.

“I love it there, that sounds good.”

“Great.” She smiles and walks over to the coffee maker to pour herself some. She slips around him to get the creamer out of the fridge. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Harry was distracted all day. Y/N rarely wore dresses to work. Had she dressed up in hopes they’d be going out together later that evening. He looks down at himself, and he’s thankful he decided on a black jumper. Was this a date, or was this to be a casual dinner between two people who work together? He really couldn’t be sure. He thought Y/N was insanely attractive, she was lovely inside and out, but he was her boss so that made things a little…sticky for him. She was around the same age as him, so it wouldn’t be weird if they went out, and she was the one to initiate dinner. So it’s not like he was using any sort of position of power over her.

Around lunch time a boy that works at the coffee shop from across the street comes in. Harry greets him, and he says he’s looking for Y/N.

“She’s in the back on her break.” Harry says. “Do you want me to get her?”

“That’d be great.” The boy smiles.

“Hey, Y/N? There’s someone here to see you.”

“Oh?” She swallows the bite of veggie wrap and stands up to see who it is. “Hey, Charlie.” She smiles.

“Hi.” He smiles back at her. “I…I snagged you some of those chocolate chip cookie squares you like so much.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” She comes from around the counter to hug him. “That is so sweet, thank you.”

Harry’s jaw tenses as he tries not to pay attention. He was looking over receipts at the register, but he couldn’t help but be a little nosey.

“No problem.” He hands her the small bag. “Um, I know it’s last minute, but would you wanna catch a movie tonight?”

“Oh, that’s so nice of you to ask, but I actually already have dinner plans tonight, so I can’t.” She gives him a soft smile.

“Alright, another time, maybe?”

“Sure.” She nods, and then he makes his way out. She goes back behind the counter. “Harry, you have to try one of these, they’re so good, nice and chewy. I get them all the time.”

“Clearly.” He reaches into the bag to take one out. “You know, if you wanted to go out with him…you could have…”

“Why would I break our date that I literally just asked you to this morning to go out with someone else?” Ah, so it was a date, he thinks to himself as he bites off a piece of the cookie. “Good, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Charlie’s nice enough, but I don’t like him like that.”

Harry leaves the conversation as that when she goes back to finish her lunch. Did she like him like that? Was that it? Dinner couldn’t come soon enough.

The ride to Chipotle is comfortably quiet, the radio could be heard just over the rumble of the streets. Y/N bumps Harry with her hip when he tries to pay for their food, shoving her card into the chip insert. She told him to go grab a table in a snappy way that made him smirk, but he listened to her regardless. He finds a quieter table for two and sets their things down. She comes over with some napkins and sits down.

“You really didn’t have to pay for me.” He says.

“Try again.”

“Thank you.” He sighs.

“Much better.” She smirks and dives into her burrito bowl. “I see you went with the tacos, those are my second favorite.”

“I love tacos, obsessed with them really. I must make them for dinner twice a week.”

“Really?” She asks with a giggle.

“Only because I usually have leftovers. I try to meal prep and stuff like that.”

“Same here! Every Sunday I go to the market, and cook up a storm when I get back. Then it’s all done, and you don’t have to worry.”

“Exactly.” He smiles and takes a bite of his food. It was a little messy, but she didn’t seem to mind. “So, what made you wanna grab a bite tonight?”

She nearly chokes on her food, and she takes a sip of her water.

“Um…I…well…” She stops talking and just looks at him. “I just thought it might be nice to do something outside of work for a change. It’s nice sharing a meal with someone, you know?”

He nods at her and takes another bite of his food. He asks her questions about school, and how things were going balancing working at a middle school and being a TA. She explains that she’s very organized, so she hasn’t been terribly stressed. She was looking forward to her school’s winter break so she could just work at the middle school and not teach at the same time. They had lost track of time, sitting there for over an hour talking. He drives her to her building, and she lingers in his car for a moment.

“That was fun.” She says to him.

“Yeah…thanks again for paying.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“Do…do you have plans on Halloween?”

“Aren’t we doing that trick or treat thing at the shop?”

“That’s the evening before.”

“Oh, right! Here I am telling you I’m organized and I can’t get my days straight.” She takes her phone out to look at her calendar. “I think Ronnie and I were planning to put a bowl of candy out in the hallway and watch movies…why?”

“Well, I have a party to go to…my mate Niall throws a Halloween party every year…would you like to come with me?”

Her eyes widen, and he feels like he’s made a mistake. Had he misinterpreted everything?

“That’s only a week away, where on earth am I going to get a costume on such short notice?” She looks at him seriously, and then she laughs.

“Good fucking thing I own a costume shop, or you’d be shit out of luck.” He laughs. “Is that a yes, then?”

“Yeah.” She smiles and leans over the console to give him a peck on the cheek. “See you Monday.” She gets out of the car, tummy full of butterflies, and goes inside her building.

Ronnie was thrilled for Y/N’s upcoming date, and didn’t mind her breaking her roommate date at all. When Monday rolls around, Y/N can’t wait to see Harry. He was running around when she got in, and he basically yelled at her to get busy. He texted her Sunday night to warn her that the week of Halloween was usually wild with last minute costume buyers. The two of them run around, and don’t close up until nearly nine.

“I can come in tomorrow and Thursday if you need me to.” She tells him as they walk to his car.

“I don’t want you to be stressed out.”

“I won’t be! I’ll be stressed knowing you’re doing all of that alone. Please, you don’t even need to pay me.”

“Y/N.” He chuckles as he drives her home. “Don’t be silly, I’ll pay you. You can come in if you need the extra hours.”

“Alright.” She nods. “Have you already decided on your costume?”

“I think while we’re at the store it would be fun to dress up as a witches?”

“Definitely, and for the party?”

“You…you wanna dress as a pair for that?”

“Well, we’re going as a pair, so I thought that would be fun…but we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Okay.” He pulls up to her building and he turns to face her. “Niall’s dressing like Barney from the Flintstone’s and his girlfriend is gonna dress up like Betty, so I was wondering how you’d feel if we dressed like Fred and Wilma…”

“Do you have those costumes at the shop?”

“Yeah, in the back.”

“That sounds like a great idea.”

“Really? Not too cliché?”

“Not at all, I think it could be fun.”

“Great, I can pull everything out for you tomorrow, and you can tell me how it all fits.”

It was a busy week, but worth it to see all of the little kids come by the shop. Y/N and Harry made quite the pair of witches. He had invited her back to his place for a movie after everything was all said and done. Tomorrow would be another busy day with the really last minute people, but he wasn’t worried about it.

“Right, so, make yourself at home. I’m just gonna get us some snacks. Can I get you anything to drink?” He says to her as he leads her inside his flat. “I’ve got water, soda, seltzer water…”

“Anything with alcohol in it?” She chuckles. “Long week, you know?”

“Oh, sure! I’ve got these pumpkin ciders you might like, they’re really good.”

“Sounds perfect. Do you need help with anything?”

“No, go sit.” He smiles, and she goes to make herself comfortable on his couch.

Her eyes scan over his living area, it was nicely decorated. He had some decals in the windows for Halloween, little black cats and pumpkins, it was cute. He comes in shortly with some cheese and crackers, and a couple of ciders.

“I threw some pizza rolls into the oven, thought this could hold us over for now.” He says as he sits.

“Good thinking, thank you. This is a nice place, just a one bedroom?”

“Mhm.” He smiles. “I like living here a lot, it’s the perfect location if I need to get to the shop quick.” They each take a sip of the cider as he grabs the TV remote. “You like it?”

“Yeah! It’s delicious. So, what are we watching?”

“How do you feel about Beetlejoice?”

“It’s one of my all-time favorites.”

“Thank god.” He says with relief. “It’s one of my favorites too. I don’t love super scary movies, but ones like these are fun.”

“I’m the same way. I don’t get that thrill other people do from being scared.”

He queues up the movie and presses play. She takes her sneakers off so she can sit with her feet under her, and he likes that she’s able to get so comfortable. He hears the ding from his oven timer and goes to retrieve the pizza rolls.

“They’re really hot, gotta let them sit. I don’t want you to bun yourself.” He grabs the blanket from the back of the couch. “Here, you look cold.” She smiles and takes the blanket from him, draping it over her legs. “Let me know when you want a refill too.”

“I will, thank you, Harry.”

He sits back on the couch and pops a cracker into his mouth. This was normal behavior him. He often doted on her in the shop. If she fell asleep at the table during her lunch break she’d miraculously wake up on the couch in the office, or with a blanket draped over her shoulders and the lights dimmed. He knew how tired she had to be, working so much. She didn’t mind it one bit. She was used to taking care of herself, it was sort of nice to let someone else take a turn.

“We can share if you want.” She speaks up as she sees him cross his arms over his body. “If you’re cold too.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s your blanket.” She chuckles, and places some of it over his legs. “There, all cozy.”

They devour the pizza rolls, and drink three cider’s each during the movie. They laugh at the funny parts, and are quiet during the more serious parts. She looks away a couple of times, and even squeezes his hand during one of the scarier scenes. They didn’t touch other than that, though. He didn’t want to make things awkward before the party.

“Oh, I love this part at the end with the football team.” She giggles and finishes her last drink. “I’m really glad we did this tonight.” She turns her body to look at him.

“Me too.” He stands up, and starts cleaning everything up. She follows him into the kitchen with the empty cans. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I don’t mind.” She tosses them in the recycling bin he has next to the trash.

“I can walk you home if you want.”

“That’s okay, I think I can make it.”

“I really don’t mind.”

“Don’t be silly, Harry.”

“Will you…at least text me when you get back?”

“Sure.” She nods and gets her shoes and jacket on. He walks her to his door with his hands in his pockets.

“I can pick you up before work tomorrow if you like.”

“That I’ll definitely take you up on. It’s gonna be cold tomorrow, I think.” She throws her arms around him and kisses his cheek quickly. “Thanks for a nice night.”

“Bye.”

He sighs as she leaves, and sighs heavier as she makes her way out of the building. She gets inside her own flat and tells Ronnie everything.

“Shit! I forgot to text him!”

Y/N: so sorry, I got in like 10 min ago

Harry: no worries, glad you got in safe

Y/N: thanks again for a really nice night…you’re fun to watch movies with

Harry: you’re welcome, and so are you

“God, why does he have to be so sweet?”

“So, he really didn’t make any moves?”

“No.” She sighs. “We shared a blanket, but that was about it, and I was too nervous to do more than to touch his hand a couple of times.” She groans and sits down on the couch with a huff. “Like…are we dating? Just friends? I’d love to know.”

“You should ask him.”

“You can’t just ask that sort of thing!”

“Why not?!”

“Because it’s awkward. Ugh, I just had to go work for someone like him. Why couldn’t it have been some old lady?”

The work day goes by like normal. Y/N uses ladies room to get into her Wilma costume. Harry had given her an orange wig for the hair, and she got it up into a decent enough bun. The dress was really cute on her figure, and she felt good about it. She’d be cold, but only for the couple of minutes she’d be outside. Harry was waiting for her in the main area with his Fred costume. He was not wearing a wig.

“I’m pretty sure Fred Flinstone has black hair.” She runs a hand through his curls and his face flushes. “But I suppose this will do.”

“You look great, Y/N.”

“You think so?” She does an innocent twirl. “Not too skimpy?”

“Not at all.” He smiles.

They drive to Niall’s, and Y/N is welcome with open arms from the second they walk in. Everyone at the party had great costumes, and she was happy her and Harry went all out. There was music playing, plenty of snacks and drinks, and even a few games. People were playing beer-pong in the kitchen, others were playing some card games. There were some people dancing in the living area. Y/N wondered if some other grad students were mixed into the bunch.

“Want something to drink?” Harry asks her and she nods yes. He takes her by the hand and leads her to the drink cart in the kitchen. He looks at her with raised eyebrows.

“Vodka tonic, please.”

“Coming right up.” He makes two drinks, and hands her one. “Let me know if It’s too strong.”

“Mm.” She takes a sip. “It’s perfect.”

Much to her surprise, Harry keeps an arm around her shoulders for most of the night as they mingled with his friends. It was loose around her, but he was making it pretty clear to anyone else looking at them that she was spoken for. They didn’t drink too much, enough to have a healthy buzz, but not so much that Harry wouldn’t be able to drive later.

“Are you having fun?” He says into her ear. She looks up at him and nods yes. He smiles and goes back to the conversation he was having with Niall.

Y/N liked Harry’s friends. They were all really nice, and did their best to include her in the chit chat. It was a fun night. A little after midnight they decide to call it quits, and head out. Y/N takes the wig off and shakes her hair out the second they’re in the car.

“Man, that thing was itchy.” She runs a hand through her hair and looks at him. “What?” He was already looking at her.

“You’re…you’re just so…” He reaches for her and cups her cheeks in his large hands. They were barely an inch apart, and she could feel his breath fanning over her face. “I really want to kiss you.”

“Please.” She nods slightly, and then he does it.

His lips slot between hers, and her eyes flutter closed. His lips were soft, and he tasted like the mint from the gum he was chewing. Her hands move to the collar of his costume and she tugs him closer to her. He pulls away just as she was opening her mouth a little more, her lips moving towards him. His forehead presses to her.

“Fuck, I…I’ve wanted to do that since the day you walked into the shop, but-“

“Do you wanna go back to my place?”

He nods yes, and throws the car in drive, speeding to their complex. His hand rests on her thigh, squeezing it occasionally, reminding her that he was there and this was happening. He parks in one of the free spaces in front of her building, and gets out of the car. He jogs around the other side and opens her door for her. The air was cold, but the heat radiating between the two of them was scorching. He helps her out of the car, and his lips are on hers again. They shuffle to the main entrance, and she keys in. He’s about to push her up against the wall, but she pushes on his chest.

“Cameras.” She says against his lips, and she tugs him down the hall, and to the elevator.

He keeps his hands to himself while in the elevator, unsure of more cameras, but when she gets them to her door he puts his hands on her shoulders as he stands behind her.

“Is Ronnie home?” He whispers in her ear and goosebumps raise on her skin.

“N-no, she decided to visit some friends for the weekend.”

She keys into the apartment, and she just barely gets the door closed when she’s being pushed up against the wall. If she had the strength to pick him up and carry him to her room she would, but she can’t, so she just tugs on him to move further into the flat. His lips felt so good on hers, and she sucks his bottom lip into her mouth, causing him to groan against her. She finally gets him in her room, and she pushes him back onto her bed. She straddles him immediately, and his hands squeeze at her hips.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” He asks as he looks up at her. “It’s not too fast?”

“Consider it third date sex, I’m good with it if you are.” She reaches for the hem of her dress and lifts it off herself, revealing a white lace set of underwear. His hands slide up and down her sides.

“Third date, huh?” He smirks.

She leans down to kiss him.

“Chipotle.” Her teeth tug at his bottom lip and she lets it snap back. “The movie last night.” She sucks a mark into his neck, just under his earlobe. “And tonight.” She sits back up. “So, no, I don’t think this is too fast, do you?”

“No.”

He flips her over onto her back, and she giggles as he works to get his costume off. He hovers over her, and kisses down her neck. He mouths over her covered nipples and sucks on her through the fabric. Her hips buck up towards him as he continues working his way down her body. Her heart was about ready to beat out of her chest.

“Wh-what are you doing?” She asks just as his lips go right below her belly button.

“Uh…I was going to take your underwear off, if that’s alright.”

“And then what?”

“I’d love to have a taste of you, if you let me.”

“You really wanna do that? It…it doesn’t gross you out?”

“What’s gross about it?” He smirks. “This right here?” He cups her mound and she whimpers. “One of the greatest wonders of the world. So, can I?”

“Yes.”

He hooks his fingers into her panties, and he tugs them down her legs. He kisses on her hips as he opens her legs. He sucks on each of her lips before licking up her slit. He swirls his tongue around her clit, which was positively throbbing for him. He wraps her lips around the small bud and sucks. Her mouth falls open and her hands fly to his hair.

“Oh, fuck.” She moans.

He moans against her, and it just makes her pool between her legs even more him. He was really enjoying this, which was making her enjoy it even more than usual. It was usually a force with guys her age, but Harry had no problem with it. If she didn’t want to suck his dick before, she definitely did now.

Harry removes his mouth from, only for a moment, to suck his middle and ring fingers into his mouth. He slides them through her folds, and then carefully slips them inside her center. She gasps from the stretch at first, and then she feels like she’s melting into the bed. His mouth goes back to her clit while his fingers curl up inside her to pet against her front wall. Her hips start moving along with the rhythm of his fingers, chasing her release.

“Shit, Harry, ngh.” She was panting now.

Her legs move over his shoulders and her heels dig into his back. He groans against her as she falls apart underneath him. He works her through it, giving her clit slow licks as he pulls his fingers from her. He sucks his fingers into his mouth. They make eye contact, briefly, before she’s pinning him down, and she’s yanking his boxers off. Her eyes widen when she sees his length slap back against his lower tummy. She pecks his lips before getting situated between his legs.

Y/N licks up the underside of his hard length, and his head falls back. Her mouth wraps around his tip and she suckles on it before popping off. She spits into her hand and wraps it around him to pump him slowly. She cradles his balls and moves to suck and lick gently on them.

“Oh, dear god.” He moans. “Y/N, I’ll come if you keep doing that.”

“Do you wanna just fuck now? Wanna fuck me, Harry?” She pouts at him.

He was surprised by her. He nods at her, and she smirks at him. She gets up and takes her bra off while she walks into her bathroom to grab a condom. She tosses it to him as she knees back onto the bed. He rips it open and rolls it on, and he gets back on top of her. He rolls the head of his cock between her folds and around her clit before pushing inside her.

“Still sure? I can stop.”

“No, please, I want it, Harry.”

He smiles and continues to push inside her. She grits her teeth at the feeling. Once he’s all the way in he gives her a moment before slowly pulling back out. He sinks back inside her, and that’s when it starts to feel good. She was nice and tight around him, not that he really cared. He knew it would feel good because he liked her so much. He did wonder, though, when the last time someone had the privilege to stretch her out like this.

“You feel so fucking good.” He says and leans down to suck on her bottom lip. His hands move to knead her breasts, and she moans.

She wraps her legs around his waist to pull him even closer. She just want him to smother her. She moves her hips up to rock along with his, and she gasps when she feels him hit her g-spot.

“Fuck, just like that, don’t stop.”

“Yeah? Like that?”

“Fuck, Harry, yeah, keep going.”

He had per panting again, and her nails were scratching down his back. It felt good, though, to feel her just about breaking his skin because he’s making her feel so good. Her back arches off the bed as she comes undone again, and he presses hard inside her so she can really feel it. She thought maybe he had come too since he was pulling out, but he grips her hips and flips her onto her stomach. He pulls her back, spreads her apart, and pushes back inside her.

“Oh!” She gasps.

“This okay?” He grunts.

“More than okay, fuck.” She pushes back against him and he nearly chuckles.

Quick, deep strokes were entering her. Her bed was shaking, and her cheeks were straight up getting clapped. It was such a breath of fresh air to be with man who knew what to do with it. He grips the back of her neck to steady himself as his thrusts get sloppy.

“I’m gonna come.” He groans. “Shit, I’m gonna-“ He moans out as he spills into the condom.

He was so vocal, and she really liked that. He pulls out of her slowly, and takes the condom off.

“Trash is over there.” She breathes and points towards her desk. He nods and gets up to dispose of it. She gets up and waddles into her bathroom to use her toilet. When she comes back out he’s getting his boxers back on. “You, um, don’t need to leave if you don’t want to.”

“Normally I’d stay, but…” He runs a hand through his hair. “Sort of embarrassing to walk back tomorrow morning as Fred Flinstone.” He smirks.

“Right.” She nods as she throws on a bed shirt, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable.

“But I could stay a little longer, lay with you a bit.”

“I don’t want you to be upset if you fall asleep.”

“I won’t be…suppose it would be funny.” He comes over to her and gives her a kiss on the forehead before going into her bathroom.

He gets into bed with once he’s done, and she snuggles up to his side, laying her head on his chest. Her fingers trace around his various tattoos. He rubs her back, and it lulls her to sleep.

The next morning she wakes up to an empty bed. Where he was laying wasn’t even warm so he must have left soon after she fell asleep. She sighs and takes a shower, washing her night away. She checks her phone, and smiles, all worry leaving her body.

Harry: slipped out after you fell asleep, hope you don’t think I’m one of those guys…I had a lot of fun, talk at work Monday?

Y/N: definitely don’t think you’re one of those guys…now lol yeah, let’s talk Monday

She sighs and sits at her desk to get some grading done. Or she was hopeful to get work done. The ache between her legs was proving to be pretty distracting.

Y/N takes a deep breath before walking into the shop Monday afternoon. There were plenty of customers buying discounted costumes, so Harry’s only able to smile at her as she slips into the backroom to hang her coat up.

“I guess…do you think he’ll still like this in a year?” The woman asks Harry.

“I’m not gonna like to you, he easily couldn’t, but if I know kids, they like to have options. If he ends up having a couple of parties to go to, he won’t want to wear the same costume to each event.”

“That’s true…alright, you’ve sold me, Harry.”

“Excellent! I’ll you ring you up.”

Y/N brushes behind Harry as he works the register. The whole evening was busy, so when he’s finally able to put the closed sign up, he’s relieved to see her sitting standing in the office.

“Hey.” He says to her.

“Hi.” She blushes.

His hands grip her hips and he effortlessly lifts her up onto the desk. He presses his forehead to hers.

“Y/N, I know we’ve become close, but I’ve been feeling conflicted because I’m also your boss, and the last thing I wanna do is take advantage of the situation.”

“Hey.” She says, cupping his cheeks so he’ll look at her. “We weren’t even at work…everything we’ve done has been outside of this place. You didn’t do anything wrong. Do you regret the other night?”

“No, not at all.” His hands rest on her thighs as he stands between her legs. He tucks some hair behind her ear. “I just don’t really know what to do here.”

“Well, it’s not like I’ll be working here much longer, just until the end of November, right?”

“Right.”

“So…do you wanna, like, keep dating? Going out and stuff?”

“I’d really like that. I want us to keep getting to know each other. I wish I had stayed the whole night the other night. I felt like such a dick for leaving.”

“Don’t, it’s fine. I would have done the same thing.” She smiles and then bites her bottom lip. “Besides, you’ll have plenty of other opportunities to sleepover.”

“I will?” He smiles.

She nods and he leans in to kiss her. Harry was a simple guy who owned a costume shop, and thanks to the girl in grad school he hired for the season, he made it through Halloween yet again. This time, instead of celebrating his profits with Niall down at the pub, he was kissing the very same girl that took his breath away when she walked in.

#harry styles #costumes galore #harry styles fic #harry styles ficrec #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #friends to lovers #storeowner!harry

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bitchesofostwick · 3 years

Note

♝: Reading a book together for Rae/Max?

(along with @vakarians-girl ; from “nonsexual acts of intimacy” prompts here)

“Max.”

They’d been in the penthouse suite for no more than fifteen minutes before Rae calls after him, earning her an eye roll from Felix specifically, raised eyebrows from Parvati, a shared knowing look between Ellie and Nyoka. She doesn’t care. She stopped caring a long time ago.

“Yes, Captain?” he says pointedly, emphasizing her title because he fucking knows it annoys me, and she leans into the master bedroom doorframe where she stands, doing her best to brush it off, keep her cool. I’m the picture of cool, she thinks, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from pouting.

“I need your...spiritual counsel. For something.”

His brow perks up at that, although he makes a show of continuing to admire the massive, warm-toned stained glass windows along the lower floor of the suite, taking his time, pacing back and forth. The Grand Colonial is everything wrong with this galaxy, he’d said it himself earlier, and yet of course now he’s interested. Now, when she’s already packed about a week’s worth of canid bites, corporate schmoozing, and shootouts with very strange crazed Rizzo’s employees into just one afternoon and the only thing she wants more than to lie facedown on the comically oversized mattress in the master bedroom is someone to lie down with. And that someone happens to be muttering to himself about how elaborate the artwork is.

“Vicar,” she snaps, and from across the room, Ellie whistles low, smirking to Nyoka. Any other day, she might say something back, but right now she’s too tired, too sore, and too crabby to be bothered. It works anyway, and with a begrudged hum—as if he’s actually bothered by her insistence—he comes to her, crossing the floor at a pace so leisurely it makes her fingernails dig into her palms, makes her clench her jaw until he meets her and she can jab her finger into the door button.

He looks at her questioningly once it’s closed. “You haven’t called me ‘Vicar’ in a while.”

“You haven’t annoyed me this much in a while,” she shoots back, falling backwards onto the mattress. The bedding is almost too soft, the duvet almost too silky, but it’s a step above—a mile above, if she’s being honest—her own cramped-ass bed on the Unreliable, and she’s way too exhausted and grumpy to complain about it. Out loud, at least.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, not sorry at all and starting to unbutton his shirt. “I didn’t realize it was so...urgent.”

“Wait—don’t—” She sits up again, and he pauses.

“What?”

“I just wanna like...chill.”

He raises his eyebrows.

“I thought maybe we could read together.”

Now she’s confused him even more—she can tell by the way his eyes look her up and down, and slowly, his hands fall to his sides again. “Read together…”

“Actually read together,” she mutters.

“But that’s what you always say when—”

She takes a deep breath. “I know it’s what I always say when I want the rest of the crew to stop being nosy and leave us alone to fuck but this time I actually mean literal reading together! Now—” she all but slaps the duvet next to her, “—please just come over here!”

He’s quick to listen once she’s talking at a pitch higher than the fucking radio tower on Monarch—for that, she’s grateful—and in seconds, he’s sitting beside her on the bed, clothes intact and brow furrowed.

“Rae—”

“I’m tired.”

He gives her a sympathetic half-smile. “I can tell.”

“And I’m mad.”

“I can tell,” he says again, thoughtfully this time. “To be honest, I thought you were going to snap when you were talking to Ludovico earlier.”

She groans. “Don’t Max, I—”

“I know, I know. You want to ‘read together’ now. But for real.”

“Yes, for real,” she mumbles, but she’s grateful—it’s only recently that he’s been so attentive, or at least so willing to show his attentiveness. Only a few weeks since that morning in the control room when we—

“So what are we reading?” He kicks his boots off finally, swinging his legs up onto the bed, grabs from the stack of cheap paperbacks left on the nightstand by the room’s previous inhabitant. Novelizations of aetherwave serials, she’d guessed from her glance at them earlier, and Max’s deep sigh now all but confirms it. “Please don’t tell me—”

“Do you see any other books lying around?”

“I could easily take a quick walk back to the ship and get one of my—”

“Oh yes,” she says dryly, “nothing like a five-hundred-page text about Scientism to take the edge off after a rough day.”

He tuts at her. “Well, it would at least be of better literary quality than this garbage.”

Finally, she rolls over to make a look at him. “Get off your high horse, Max,” she scoffs, earning herself an infuriatingly unperturbed shrug, complete indifference exuding from his very being as he reclines against the pillows beside her.

“I tried that once. I couldn’t seem to find my way down.”

She gapes at him. “You’re an ass, you know that?”

“My dear, no one knows it better than I—”

She throws her hands up. “I have had. The worst day. I am investigating a literal murder. I have been dealing with filthy rich assholes all afternoon. I’ve somehow been named an inspector, something I have neither the qualifications nor the desire to do, and—oh!—I also have a bruise the size of the Groundbreaker on my ass from getting decked by a fucking primal this morning! And now I just want to spend time with you and you’re being so…” She trails off, lying flat on her back again to sulk, and for a moment, Max is quiet.

“Well, if all you wanted was to cuddle with someone—”

“Not just someone,” she huffs.

“—then why didn’t you just say that before? Back out there?” He gestures to the closed door and the vast suite that lies out of view beyond it.

She stares at him incredulously. “Because—” she says, voice nearly squeaking with incredulity, “that would make me look soft! That’s like, the last thing I want! In front of the rest of the crew!”

He snorts. “But you are soft.”

“They don’t need to know that.”

“They do know it. And it’s part of what everyone loves about you.”

She sighs, turning over so that her back is to him—all in vain, though; seconds later and a warm arm pulls her back against him, soft lips pressing into her neck.

“It’s what I love about you.” Another gentle tug and she gives in—rolls over again until he’s right in front of her, holding the book from the top of the stack in his other hand. “Let me start,” he says, opening it.

She rolls her eyes, but she can’t help the smile growing on her lips. “Your newfound self-awareness is very annoying somet—”

But he quiets her with a single finger to her lips, clearing his throat as his eyes run over the page.

“Let’s see here...volume 11, issue 2…‘Horror on Hephaestus’...”

#vicar max #maximillian desoto #captain of the unreliable #murder on eridanos #the outer worlds #rae x max #my writing #rae fic

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jjayolsen · 3 years

Text

Best Company moments

1. Season Seven, Episode Two: Counseling

When they all support and try to help Dwight with the mall fiasco even before they knew what happened. After first storming in and demanding everyone “Boycott the Steamtown Mall” and then again when help him prepare to Pretty Woman the salesclerk (per Kelly’s suggestion).

Kelly “You shirt and tie are disgusto-barfo”

Oscar “Maybe not so monochromatic, not so matching”

Ryan, Kelly, Pam and then Ryan again “The glasses are a little….I liked them…I thought they were kinda cute…yeah I liked them too”

Darryl "Say Stuff like ‘good morning, good afternoon. People appreciate that’” Darryl

Andy “If someone offers you a cocktail, accept, but keeps your wits about you” Andy

Angela “Please and Thank you go a long way”

2. Season Seven, Episode Twenty-Two: Goodbye Michael

When they all sing Rent, and calculated the actual minutes (9,986,000) that he had been at the company

3. Season Five, Episode Fourteen: Stress Relief Part 1

When, more than those you’d expect, began dancing to them singing ‘staying alive’ to know when to pump for CPR. First Andy joining in singing, then Kelly dancing, Phyllis and Creed bopping their heads, then Michael stops with the CPR and gets up to also dance as does Andy later dancing with the instructor and even Meredith and Dwight bopping their heads as well.

4. Season Eight, Episode Five: Garden Party

When they all come together to cheer Andy up after the Garden party; even to where they ignore him as he tries to leave and apologize with Darryl asking him he wants a “Cheeseburger or Hamburger” and Oscar calling him “Nard-dog” before tossing him a beer.

5. Season Seven, Episode Seven: Christening

When they all shit on the churchgoers at the Christening; they are their own type of family

Ryan “Teach for America girls are way hotter—but their nuts”

Phyliis “Who takes a kid to Mexico”

Stanley” I would run to Mexico if that’s where the sandwiches are”

Dwight “You wanna know my 11th Commandment, I will not be undersold”

Andy “What if the Moon was your car and Jupiter was your hairbrush”

Ending with half-assed claps and Ryan playing with his cup

6. Season Six, Episode Fifteen: Sabre

When they work together to repackage the Sabre box

7. Season Seven, Episode Nine: WUPHF.com

When they figured out the server password first thinking of things topical for when it was set, IT guys, and then that it made Michael laugh when he heard it, but Pam got offended.

8. Season Seven, Episode Six: Costume Contest

“Is there no limit to what Stanley won’t notice?”

Jim’s OJ wasn’t his hot coffee

Kevin dressed up as Phyllis

Andy naked except for his tie

The computer monitor being replaced by a cardboard box with a picture on it

Michael with fake teeth

The conference meeting having everyone but him sitting backwards and the meeting talking about the projections on Jupiter

Pam with a mustache

and Dwight with a pony

Except—he notices the clock is slow and it’s after 5pm

9. Season Nine, Episode Eight: The Target

When Pete, Kevin, Erin, Meredith, Creed, Nellie and Darryl all work together to build the complaint tower and support Pam getting a complaint

10. Season Nine, Episode Eighteen: Promos

When they realize the camera crew followed them more than they realized, and all looked at the camera simultaneously

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vampiresuns · 3 years

Text

Corazón Ardiente

2.3k words. Preparing themselves to cross the Strait of Sirens, the crew of The Jagged Ruby runs into another pirate ship. Alternative, in which Julianus makes an unlikely friend. Contains 🍋

The crew of The Jagged Ruby and El Corazón Sangrante, such as Captain Rodrigo and his Quartermaster Jacqui, belong to @apprenticealec. You can also check their map and lore about the Strait of Sirens here.

This is the opening part of Part VI of Secrets of An Ancient Moon Series. Part VI will be divided in three parts: Corazón Ardiente, Corazón Sufriente and Corazón Sangrante.

Want to read more of these series? You can find it’s masterpost here.

This part also introduces the fictional country of ‘Altazor’, a latino fictional country where Julianus is from — other Alzoreño characters in my fictional universe are Louisa De Silva and her son: Aelius Anatole Radošević.

It wasn’t too long past the break of dawn when Jules heard the door open, making the sea breeze from outside enter the room. Its coolness made them bury themselves a little further into the sheets, though they kept enough of their head above the covers to peek an eye open. Saoirse’s outline closed the door of their quarters, making the door click behind them.

Jules yawned, sitting up on the bed, holding the covers up only for the sake of warmth. Saoirse smiled at them.

“Did I wake you up?”

“No,” they said as they stretched. “What were you doing?”

“Feeding Marcius for you.” Saoirse paused, as if unsure of what to do next. “Do you want me to go back to bed with you, or are you alright? It’s still too early for anything to happen… Meredith is not awake yet.”

Jules patted the side of the bed next to them, but Saoirse hesitated again.

“What is it?”

“Should I join you with or without clothes?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“What you want, what I may want. I could just go back to sleep, you were a wonderful pillow,” they smiled; Saoirse thought they looked adorable with a bedhead and a sleepy smile on their face. “But I also wouldn’t mind not going back to sleep, if that’s what you were wondering.”

The Quartermaster licked their own lips, a distinctively human gesture. J. C. couldn’t help but wonder where, or who, they had picked it up from. They wondered about all such mannerisms in them, marvelling at the entity standing before them. As Saoirse took their shirt off, they asked them why they were looking at them like that.

Julianus shrugged. “Aren’t you a curious entity?”

“Care to tell me why?” Saoirse asked as they got back in bed. They faced Julianus, tucking their mussed up hair behind one of their ears. “I don’t think there’s anything particularly curious about this, us.”

“No, not us,” Jules paused to kiss the corner of their mouth. “I just find it wonderfully delightful that someone such as you would choose to model themself after beings such as humans. You’re so alike us in our lack of similarities.”

Saoirse huffed through their nose. An undecipherable gesture that made Jules wonder if they did such things on purpose, or if they naturally to them. They didn’t ask however, allowing Saoirse space if they needed any. As their presence began acquiring that incomprehensible, vast feeling it often had, their eyes wandered all over them. However, Julianus no longer found it strange. Even if it prickled at them, they had learnt to find it comforting.

That was Saoirse, their Saoirse.

Neither of them should’ve been surprised they ended up having sex again. Why or who began it they didn’t know, nor they cared. Saoirse wanted to make use of Jules’ word that along with nights there would be mornings, and other moments, wanting to file away their many moods — both Jules’ and their own, and theirs as something which went together. Jules just wanted, simple as that. The day hadn’t begun yet, and given they weren’t nearly as quick as Saoirse was with their own tasks, not having had centuries to grow accustomed to them (as well as generally having a better capacity to finish tasks in one go). They weren’t going to pass on the opportunity to have the Quartermaster for themself just a little longer.

The distant but growing sound of drums had other plans, however.

Saoirse went still, getting out of bed as they claimed Meredith would not be happy about this. They moved across their quarters as if nothing had interrupted them, stopping only when J. C. cleared their throat. They look vaguely irritated.

“If you could explain—“

Saoirse turned with a reassuring smile, telling them it was nothing of importance, just something Meredith wouldn’t like. It didn’t require Julianus, so Saoirse told them to feel free to dress at their leisure. Before they could dwell a moment longer, however, they were gone.

Right, duty called. Now alone, Julianus set themself on getting ready, though it took them a moment to stir themselves into leaving the bed. They resigned themselves to their fate fast rather than slowly. At least the drumming, whatever its source, provided a nice ambience sound for it. It was energetic, like a Murga inviting Jules to join.

A Murga… when was the last time they had witnessed one? They must’ve been 17, 18 at most. Ten years was a long time, though sitting in bed to float over the waters of nostalgia wouldn’t get them anywhere, as tempting as it was, they knew better now, with time. Though the memories remained, they began moving. Sometimes, one had to sit with the discomfort and carry on — it’s lessons would come eventually.

A quick splash to their face, a scrub, some basic skin care, underwear, pants, a shirt, earrings and shoes. Only which ones? Meredith being otherwise occupied meant they had a little more time to dwell on their appearance, and Julianus used every extra moment they had. They didn’t have any breakfast duties that week, they could indulge. They settled on a pair of knee high lace ups, standing on one foot to adjust them.

As they tried to keep their balance, a soft knock came from the other side of the door. They stumbled forward, clinging onto a small table in order not to fall. With the rattle, the person behind the door opened it.

“Saoirse?”

“Uh, not precisely.”

The person was tall, tall enough to have to duck their head into Saoirse’s quarters, even if they lingered by the door. Jules did not have a good eye for measuring by estimation, but they knew they were definitely taller than Saoirse. They assumed that if they were specifically looking for them, they must know them.

The stranger acted with a gentle poise to them, somehow all amused, awkward and trying not to alarm Jules. It was nice of them, even if they didn’t know them, and by all means, from their perspective, the stranger in a friend’s room was Jules, not them.

“I can see that. Unless Saoirse decided they wanted a change of look.”

Jules frowned, letting their mouth run loose. “Would they? I mean, we’re talking about someone who isn’t precisely pressed about appearances.”

They both stared at each other in silence for a couple of moments, Jules adjusting their boots after a soft-spoken ‘excuse me’.

“If you keep balancing yourself on one foot, you’ll fall again— pardon me, but are you—?”

Saoirse’s voice came from behind the stranger, a smile audible in it. “I tell them that all the time. Hi, Jacqui. Were you looking for me?”

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

It turned out the drums came from the same place Jacqui, whom Jules knew only by the letters from him that Saoirse had shared with them, came from: Captain Rodrigo Aguilar’s El Corazón Sangrante, from the Sea of Persepia. Some business or the other had taken the Captain and his ship away from their sea, now making their return to it, as the quinquennial Pirate Meeting approached.

Jacqui, Rodrigo’s Quartermaster and Saoirse’s friend, had seen The Jagged Ruby from afar and convinced Rodrigo it would be better to join them in the cross of the Strait of Seals into Hinode. Winds weren’t favourable, and while it wasn’t a feeding season, another phenomenon Jules didn’t quite manage to understand made it desirable to have the most amount of aid possible crossing the strait.

“We should just be thankful Inuwashi isn’t near.”

“Is that Syd’s ship?” Jules asked. “Is there any particular reason for that or—?”

Saoirse was the one to reply: “The Sirens hate the ship,” they said with a shrug, “it makes it harder to cross after.”

“But the Sirens,” Jacqui said, giving Rodrigo a look, “like your songs.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Rodrigo said, rolling his eyes. “Whatever works: I don’t wanna become fish food, and I assume neither do you, Mere,—”

“Don’t call me that,” Meredith snarled at him.

Julianus made a mental note to ask Saoirse what was up with those two, and why they hated each other, or rather, why Meredith hated Rodrigo so much. Because from what Julianus could see, Rodrigo seemed too busy trying to flirt with her. He put a hand on her shoulder, and Meredith looked like she was ready to bite his hand off. Jacqui and Saoirse gave out equally long-suffering sighs.

Jules suddenly understood why —among all the other reasons Saoirse had given— they were friends. What they failed to notice, however, was Rodrigo looking at them.

“But now,” he said, with his Nopali accented common tongue, “you. You I haven’t met.”

Jacqui cursed.

“Me?”

“Drigo leave them out of this… what are you even doing here, Sanlaurento?”

“Legal counsel should be present at all times?”

Meredith rolled her eyes at them. “Scatter off.”

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

The time to get to know Jacqui would come later, after both crews had disembarked in Hinode to stay the night there. They would not make it out of the Strait in one day with the weather and wind conditions, so it would be safer to stay the night on land if they planned to sleep without the risk of sleepwalking into the water, and becoming a tasty midnight snack for the beings luring said waters.

He was surprisingly gentle, incredibly soft spoken and very, very smart. He was very observant, prone to retreating into himself while being simultaneously aware of what was going on around him. He was also very, very aware of where Rodrigo was at all times.

They had begun talking about Saoirse’s language and their individual journeys to learn it, eventually moving into other topics. Julianus had asked how Jacqui met Saoirse —since they had never asked Saoirse themselves because, per their own admission, they forgot to ask— and Jacqui asked how Jules had ended up in Meredith’s ship.

They also talked briefly about Altazor, Jules home country.

It was located in the furthest, western end of the Bulan Range, with the City of Altazor as its capital. It was the southernmost of the West Bulan countries and had its own convoluted history. Originally coexisting in relative harmony with the indigenous populations of the area, a military regime had risen out of an old power dispute a couple of decades before Julianus was born. They had been born during the first years of the transition back into civilian hands, but the damage dealt was already done. What the tyrants had done to the Country was, to Julianus and anyone else with half a mind to it, unspeakable and unforgivable.

Of course, not everyone thought like that, but that was another story.

Julianus had lived in Altazor until their 20th birthday — having begun their legal studies there, they were transferred to Sirenia on a special request. They described the choice as ‘something’; whether the right or wrong something they didn’t know, and they told Jacqui as much.

“I applied to the Sea Palace as well, I was forced to, because you know,” the paused to take a drink, “there’s certain… charm about the endless escalating capacity of the Petite Bourgeoisie. Nothing like the dog eats dog tradition of it and the class it seeks to imitate. Needless to say, the Sea Palace said I was, how was it? ‘A low-pedigree, insubstantial applicant, with more enthusiasm than talent’. I, however, said I preferred to die on the side street than study with grave robbers and gatekeepers. My mother wasn’t happy, but she also wasn’t happy about what the Scholars called me, so...”

They smiled against their glass, Jacqui’s laughter as their companion.

“You’re lucky.”

“Meh, but thank you, I suppose.”

Their talk about the Sea Palace and those places they both had left behind at some point (even if neither of them talked openly about those) carried onto politics, international news, the state of the world; places they wanted to visit, authors they had read. Both of them talked animatedly about this or that, exchanging points of views and debating ideas like nothing else pressed them in the world. They acquired a lightness to them, finding themselves less weighed down by the things they did not talk of.

If only for a night, both of them could be what a part of them had always desired they were: two travelling scholars. Only that. Two people had all the time in the world to dissect it and pick it up again, ever-marvelling at everything it may have to offer.

Two people for whom the horizon was a goal, not an impossibility.

The conversation paused when Saoirse offered to go get them drinks again, leaving both of the newly found friends in comfortable silence, with the sounds of the Koizumi Inn surrounding them.

“You’re nice to talk to,” Jules said with a smile. “It’s hard to find people who simply understand.”

Jacqui looked at them like they had grown a second head. “I don’t know how to take that. I don’t even know what that means.”

“As a compliment because it was one.” They paused to nurse their glass, taking a sip of their drink. “You don’t have to tell me anything, and I do apologise if I’m overstepping but you kind of have the energy of someone who everything which they are, which matters the most to them, did not come easy. Saoirse has it, in their own way, Meredith has it for sure, you do. I think it takes a lot of guts to look in the eye of everyone who ever expected something of you and say ‘No, I will not sacrifice myself for this’.”

#the arcana #the arcana oc #my writing #secrets of an ancient moon series #jc sanlaurento #saoirse #meredith #captain rodrigo #jacqui #joirse #the janiverse #lemon

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kindness-ricochets · 3 years

Note

Hi! How are you? Sending virtual (physically-distant) hugs❤

As for your winter fics, would really love anything SoC (Kanej please)

Responding with physically distant hugs and some fic for you!

Kanej is very much not my go-to, so I did my best and I hope you like it. (And you can totally let me know if you didn’t. Like if you wanted fluff or something. I can always take another stab at it... just like Kaz would ;) )

Ketterdam harbor never felt like home, but it felt like welcome nonetheless. Her first arrival here had been one of the most terrible days of her life and Inej would never forget it, but while Nina had saved Inej, it had been the men who saved Ketterdam. Over the years, Inej had returned to Ketterdam many times. She had berthed The Wraith in the harbor and strolled along the damp streets like she had nothing to hide.

She would always have a warm welcome on the Geldstraat—not from most there, but from Jesper and Wylan. Not just a warm welcome, either: she knew there was a soft bed and warm meals waiting for her, enthusiasm and grins and massive hugs from Jesper, quiet love and fretting from Wylan who always wanted to be sure she had all the provisions and thick socks she needed. No matter changed in their lives—Wylan had grown into himself, Jesper returned to school, and together they were the strangers merchant pair Kerch had ever seen—Inej always saw the love between them, and they always had space for her.

Less changed with Kaz.

Kaz still wore crisp black suits and leaned on his crow’s-head cane, and kept half-legible books in his attic room at the top of the Slat, the real information stored safely in his head. He had worn a beard for a while, though it never suited him. He was severe and his eyes were cold, but he had a half-smile increasingly ready for Inej.

Jesper and Wylan’s house felt like a comfortable, familiar holiday. The Slat, Kaz, that was a homecoming.

Inej meant to pay a visit shortly after arriving, but a member of her crew had hidden deep in the ship’s belly. Someone else could have done it, but each sailor and hand on The Wraith was her responsibility first. After long minutes of shivers and sobs, the girl had entrusted her story to Inej. It was all too familiar. Though Inej and her crew rescued the girl from a ship of a very different sort of pirate, she had first been used and wrung out on the streets of Ketterdam, and the mingling scents of shipyards and harbors broke something inside her.

Kaz could wait until tomorrow.

Or so Inej thought.

So she thought as she coaxed the girl up from the hold, so she thought as she saw her safely back to the little room she shared with two other girls around her age, both of whom welcomed their friend—one with compassion, one with anger. Some of them were like that. Some of them didn’t know how to hold and just wanted to hurt the people who hurt their own. Inej would counsel mercy in the morning. For tonight, she simply gave her word that she would be here on the ship. No one was coming aboard without her permission.

As she drifted to sleep, Inej thought of her loved ones in Ketterdam. She thought of Kaz literally burning the midnight oil, frowning over his desk. She thought of Jesper and Wylan asleep in each other’s arms. Her thoughts drift farther, to West Ravka, to Mama and Papa and her aunts, uncles, cousins. Somewhere, who knew where, was Nina Zenik and Hanne Brum, hopefully somewhere with pastries and horses.

Inej believed there were many good people in the world. But she only knew for sure that there were a handful.

====

"Captain!"

Inej bolted upright, already scrambling out of her bed. The captain’s cabin came with a berth built like a little compartment, but sleeping there felt too much like sleeping in a coffin. It wasn’t as soft or as big as the bed waiting for her on the Geldstraat, but her shipboard bed wasn’t an enclosed wooden box, either.

"Captain Ghafa!"

Her lantern came to life with a hum, the glow turning bright and steady as Inej went to the door. She slept in a shirt and trousers, ready at a moment’s notice—like this moment.

When she unlocked her door, Specht strode into the cabin without a word, a half-conscious mess of a man in his arms and a crow's-head cane tucked through his belt like a sword. Kaz's head lolled, dark hair falling in all directions.

"Kaz?" Inej asked. Panic threw off the last shreds of sleep.

Saints, what happened to him?!

"Found him this way," Specht said, setting Kaz on her bed. He leaned the cane against the bed. Kaz was bleeding, a dark, wet patch soaking his front. Bleeding, filthy, face swelling—he had been jumped. Inej noted that he was barefoot.

How did Kaz Brekker get jumped?

Was this calculated or just someone very desperate and very lucky? A calculated hit wouldn’t take his shoes…

"Get Karine," Inej said, but Specht was already on his way.

Alone with him, she brought the lantern closer.

"Kaz?" she asked. "Can you hear me?" Inej was no Healer, but she knew what to do until one arrived--and she understood what Specht brought Kaz here. As Inej sliced open his shirt and waistcoat, she noticed that he needed a shave. That wasn't like him. Kaz usually took immaculate care with his appearance. And he had been jumped! Instinct told her to pray over him, just quickly, just for a moment in her heart… she did it as she peeled the clothing away. Good, the wound was clear. He groaned.

"It's me," Inej said. The years had softened Kaz towards Inej, but not toward the world. Being touched by an unseen, unknown hand would be too much for him. "You're going to be fine, Kaz," she promised as she wrapped up a handkerchief and pressed it to his wound.

His eyes snapped open, mouth set in a snarl.

"It's okay."

"Gonna… kill those… bastards," he gritted out.

That was her Kaz. His dark eyes settled on her. "Inej." "You're on The Wraith," she told him. "Specht found you. He's getting our Healer." Kaz's hand reached vaguely toward Inej. She took it and held onto him with one hand, the other keeping pressure on his wound until a half-sleepy Karine arrived from her little room beside the ship's infirmary. Inej understood why Specht hadn't taken Kaz to the infirmary. It was the same reason he had been sure to bring the cane: Kaz valued his dignity more than his life. "Captain Ghafa?" "I need this man stable. The bruises are fine." She could only assume Kaz would want to keep them. Karine nodded. When they first brought her on board, the first thing the Fjerdan girl had done was hack off her long, golden braids. She wore her hair short now and a little wild in a way that contrasted with her round face and wide eyes, but suited her all the same. After less than a year aboard The Wraith, Karine was already confident, sure, and steady. Inej was proud of her. She hovered a hand over Kaz's injury. Because she'd received no formal training, Karine didn't move like a Healer from the Little Palace might, instead moving her fingers in an almost casual half-dancing motion. Kaz's brow furrowed at the pain of healing. The affectation that it was nothing but an inconvenience might have fooled Karine and even Specht, but Inej felt Kaz's fingers tighten around hers as the bleeding slowed, then stopped completely.

The Healer checked Kaz for any internal injuries and fixed those she found before they could become a larger problem. Only then did Karine leave her captain and the captain's mysterious friend. With a nod, Specht too gave them their privacy. Inej hated seeing Kaz this way as much as she knew Kaz hated being seen this way, laid out and vulnerable. "Karine won't say a word," she said. He already knew he could trust Specht. Kaz nodded grimly. "I'm going to clean you up." It wasn't a command. It was a chance for him to refuse the offer. When he didn't, Inej grabbed a bottle of water and a shirt. Mercher black was severe and suggested austerity. Pirate black hid blood and any other stain. Many wicked men's blood had tried to mar this shirt. What was one more? As she wiped away the blood from his chest, Kaz reached for a wooden pendant pinned to the wall just above the bed and twisted it between his fingers to get a better look. "Sankta Marya of the Rock," he observed. "The patron of those far from home." "It was a gift." Inej didn't know what, exactly, Wylan had said, only that Marya Hendriks got the idea somewhere that Inej had protected her son. She hadn't, but Wylan gave her that wide-eyed pleading look and Inej let Marya believe it, and Marya welcomed Inej like a distant cousin--a stranger, but family all the same. Now here was her patron. Inej supposed it was fitting; Sankta Marya had protected both of them just as much as Sankta Margarethe, the patron of thieves and lost children. If Kaz had a patron at all, Inej thought, it was Sankta Margarethe. "What happened?" she asked. "If I'm going to have an army of Ketterdam gangsters gathering on my dock, I'd like to know in advance." "I was stupid," Kaz replied, "and I paid for it." "I can see that, but were you very stupid? Was it an on-going stupidity? Or was it a brief lapse in judgment?" He sighed. "No one should be coming." Inej nodded. The Wraith always had a watch posted and this was no exception. Someone might come but no one would surprise them. She finished wiping away the blood and helped Kaz into another of her shirts. It was loose and easy to move in, not tailored as he preferred, but it would keep him warm and covered for the night. Then Inej took the other side of the bed, leaving space between them so there would be no accidental touching when they stirred in their sleep. As she listened in the dark to his steady breathing, Inej's mind drifted again to Jesper and Wylan. They shared a degree of physical comfort that fascinated her. Who would she be, without the Menagerie to shape her? She doubted she would be like Wylan. His touch was too quiet. Inej had seen Kaz bent over his work like Jesper after returning to university, and even without the Menagerie, Inej couldn't see herself going to her lover with a cup of coffee and a gentle hand on his shoulder. Jesper, though--she would not have been so boisterous as Jesper, who was constantly stating his love in every motion, whether that meant a surprise hug or literally sweeping Wylan off his feet. Inej did not know what touch would have been for the girl she was all those years ago on the shores of West Ravka. If that girl had grown in Inej's place, would she have a Suli boy now? An acrobat? A dancer? Would he hold her at night? She would certainly not have a thief lord. Maybe she would have been comfortable with his touch, trusted him with her body like Jesper and Wylan did. Tonight, she trusted Kaz with her because she trusted him to keep a respectful distance. === Inej checked in with her crew the following morning and aided in a thorough inspection of the ship. Any problems were best identified now and dealt with before they set sail again. Some of her crew were off-ship--she always kept enough hands available in case of emergency, but many chose to stay aboard, anyway. There were bad memories in Ketterdam. Inej understood. She found a seat on deck, her legs dangling over the water. It was a quiet day and she had quiet work to see to, and sitting here, she caught a hint of a breeze sometimes, the smell of the sea instead of the odors of industry. Inej carried a spare pair of trousers with her, a needle and thread, a patch for a nearly-threadbare knee and a quick seam for a tear. There was something to be said for the simple work of maintenance, sometimes. She didn't know how long she had been working when she heard footsteps approach, accompanied by the tap of a cane. Kaz sat beside her. "I'll wash your shirt," he offered. "And your sheets." He had bled some on those, too. "I'll send you a bill for the laundry," she replied. "Do you know who it was?" "Yes and no. I know who leaked information, and I'll solve that problem tonight. Just didn't expect it right then." Of course. His shoes. Inej looked at Kaz's bare feet dangling beside her own. She preferred to go barefoot, when she could. He had been forced into it. Despite the circumstances they could almost look like young lovers on a lakeside picnic, their naked toes dancing just above the water. Except that he was barefoot because he had whispered a rumor about his shoes. She wondered who he had told, and what. That they were lucky? That he kept his secret plans hidden beneath the soles? A whisper drew her attention. Some of her crew had noticed their captain sitting side by side with a man who had come out of her cabin wearing her shirt. Some of her crew had noticed that Captain Ghafa had taken herself a man. Let them gossip. It wasn't that far off the mark. Kaz continued, "I was lucky you were in the neighborhood." Lucky. The years had softened Ketterdam to her memory and they had softened Kaz to her, but they had not softened his armor. It had an Inej-shaped hole, that was all. And sometimes he forgot he was wearing it. She knew, anyway. The wind tugged at her hair just like a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. He hadn't been lucky. He heard The Wraith made berth in Ketterdam's harbor, and he had come to see her. "I missed you, too."

#six of crows #six of crows fanfic #inej ghafa #Kaz Brekker #kanej #my writing

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