#saltiness aside I do think he's not used to feeling threatened and lacks some sort of self-preservation instincts bc of it

[ai-higurashi]

Honestly, they should have given the Kumojacky treatment to Minoton's arc, or at least something similar

[laurore-stormwitch]

So this was supposed to be a birthday gift for my friend @not-just-human, but of course I am a day late (ily). This is to remember the major week-long breakdown we had when we first read about this. I am so so happy that I met you. Enjoy this endless yearning and pining about Nikolai giving Zoya the dragon timepiece

I’d give us time if I could - ao3

word count: 2282

“Do you intend to keep prying into my work from the corner or are you planning to make yourself useful at some point?”

Zoya kept her eyes trained on the document she was scanning as she talked, having finally had enough of the intent gaze that had been studying her. Behind her back, she heard Nikolai chuckle lightly, the sound echoing in her veins.

“I’ve been here a while. I am surprised you haven’t heard me.” Of course he had, and she had let him. His silent presence was far from unpleasant, though; it brought a sense of security to the room that she had wanted to enjoy for a while. Maybe it was the silent part that was shocking enough to not startle him from his rare lack of talking. “Are you perhaps losing the usual sharpness of your senses, General?”

It was not a matter of hearing; Zoya felt him, always, everywhere. She just knew, in some deep buried part of her, when he was there; he awoke something in her, quickened her pulse, muffled her thoughts. It could have been a consequence of her newly acquired powers, or that unbreakable connection that had seemed to have been forged between them. Either way, she had deliberately chosen not to dwell on the answer. Zoya discarded her pen and shuffled the papers away, turning on her seat to face him.

“What do you need?”

Nikolai was leaning on the doorframe of her bedchamber, his figure stark against the flickering of the fire. He folded his arms, cocking his head and producing his signature mischievous grin in her direction. She really wished he would lose the habit of appearing in her room late at night; even more, she wished he could avoid doing so with his hair ruffled and the top buttons of his shirt undone.

Or maybe you just wish he would stay and let you fix those buttons, her traitorous brain provided. If only to oppose those thoughts, she scowled at him, shooting an annoyed glare at his lack of response that only made him grin wider. He pushed back from the frame, walking towards her and coming to lean on her desk beside her instead, peering at her from the upside down. Zoya tensed up, unnerved by his excessive proximity and the salty scent of his skin invading her nose. His gaze wandered around the room, lingering on the two-stars flagged ship on the wall before coming to lock with her eyes.

“I’ve come to check on my General”, he mused. “Can a king not oversee his most trusted ally’s work?”

His voice had a strained edge and he kept fidgeting with the cuffs of his jacket. He looked almost nervous. Which was not preamble to anything positive. Zoya suppressed a groan, going for another baleful glare. “Cut to the chase, Nikolai”, she clipped out.

He just looked at her, seemingly at a loss for words, which was even more worrying. His eyes darkened, the shadow of something passing over them, something treacherous, the promise of an undoing. It had peered in vulnerable flutters in these weeks, carrying sparkles of electricity between them.

They had not talked much about what had happened in the Fold, aside from the detail of their worst enemy coming back to life; Zoya carefully avoided the subject of whatever it was that they had shared, whatever it was that made her heart ache whenever he entered a room. It drove him to search for her, to ask for her company, for her presence. It lingered in the swift gazes they exchanged or the casual brush of his hands on her. Either way, it had to remain shrouded in darkness; these moments he seemed to look for made the task to toss the desire away tiresome, if not at peril to be forsaken. She heard him discreetly take in a long breath before talking, the forced cheerful tone masking a tension she could sense enveloping the room.

“I have something for you”, he finally said. “Then I’ll leave you be.”

The force of his feelings was a tidal wave of confusion that threatened to drown her; Zoya used all of her might when he was near to put a blockade against them. It was one thing to be forced to experience other people's troubled sentiments, but with Nikolai, she did not want to know. She did not want to bask in whatever inner battle was waging inside him; it would not help either of them to hold the knowledge that their hearts were being tortured by the same hopeless war.

Zoya struggled to keep her focus and control over her power; her perfectly still posture unveiled nothing of the turmoil in her chest. She arched a brow at him; losing no more time in chatters - another clear enough indicator of his nervousness - Nikolai reached inside his jacket and delicately handed her a fine case with his royal seal branded on top. Zoya turned it over, resting her folded hands with it on her lap and coming back to fix her eyes on Nikolai’s ones with a silent question.

“It’s a - “, he started, straightening himself and wrapping his hands on the edge of the desk. He cleared his throat and shuffled on his feet, his restlessness betraying more than he let on. “It’s a gift, sort of. I thought you deserved a reward. A token of appreciation.”

“For what?”, Zoya inquired, half suspicious and half startled by his gesture. Again, those shadows swept through his features and his fingers twitched.

“For fighting beside me, I guess”, he said easily, shrugging his shoulders. “And saving our pitiful lives.”

“I do it on a daily basis”, Zoya diminished, tossing her hair. “You constantly put yourself in life-threatening situations. It hardly shocks me anymore, and I certainly don’t consider it a cause for celebration.”

Nikolai smiled at that, his genuine smirk recalling the familiar ease between them and clearing the strain from the air. Of course I saved you, you idiot , Zoya thought, and she knew her blue eyes had softened at the sight of him. I could not bear to lose you. “Undoubtedly”, he conceded, humming in agreement. “Think of it as a reminder of our heroic gestures and epic adventures. I spared you the torture of hearing me proclaim a poem to our valor and chose a symbolic practical gift instead.”

Zoya rolled her eyes, blowing a disgruntled scoff. “I would have not let you come as far as a sentence. Do not ever try to pull that poetry nonsense on me.”

A laugh burst from him, and the sound made her feel so light she thought she could float.  “Just - “, he paused again, the words faltering on his tongue. Saints, what had gotten into him? He looked more like an excited schoolboy than a king. “Open it later. If it’s awful, at least I can be spared your disgusted face at my ghastly taste.”

“Your taste does lack finesse.”

“I like to pride myself with having gotten to know a fraction of your likings in these years. So perhaps I did not go completely off track with that”, he said, gesturing to the case still resting in her hands. He pushed himself up, running a hand through his hair. The king looked at her again, and she could see the words forming in his throat and dying on his lips, all the things he wished he could tell her. But that was not their truth to live. That was not their chance to gain. And whatever he would say, it had to not be what he desired. “Besides, it’s a useful gift. You always grumble about how late I am, now you could actually prove it.”

Zoya pursed her lips at the wink he gave her. “I do not grumble.”

"Occasionally. You’re extremely graceful in that too, don’t worry.”

With that, he turned to leave, as nonsensical and abrupt as he always needed to be. And Saints, she wanted to grab his arm and tell him to stay. She wanted so many futures she could not have, so many endings to this night that were forbidden.

“Nikolai”, she heard herself call to him, not sure where her own voice was coming from. Nikolai stopped dead in his tracks, his gaze darting back to Zoya still seated unmoving on her desk. His fingers were already curled around the handle; there they stood, facing each other at the brink of a duel or a surrender, at the crossroad where they kept finding and losing themselves. It would take a step, a touch, a slide of a tongue on lips. A syllable, a breath. Instead, there was silence, one that asked to be filled with mendacity, for it would be softer to tolerate than the blazing truth of an ember of hope that had already gotten extinguished. Zoya swallowed the bitter taste of pretense; she wondered how long it would keep scraping, if older pain got sweeter like a priced bourbon or turned rancid if left there to rot.

Thank you , she wished to tell him at least. A small thing it would be, yet one that would risk freeing a flood. “Close the door on your way out”, she said instead, her voice cold but lacking spite. “It’s late.”

Nikolai stood; she had chosen the path, and he knew he had to give in. It was not like they had another choice. And so he just nodded, the ghost of a smile grazing his lips because whether she spoke it aloud or not, he would always know. “Goodnight, General”, he murmured, taking his leave.

It would take her some time to get up from her seat and will herself to rest. Zoya remembered when they had found themselves in a similar position; it was three years ago, and in the box he had given her had rested the medal that had made her his General. He had been as jittery as tonight, with that grin that had never changed. Back then, the dance between them had been different, though the exchange of playful banters and silent truths had been the same.

It would then take her some other time to bring herself to open the case, and when she did, a part of her died while another came roaring to life. She could have wondered and wondered forever what it meant; if it was a promise, a farewell or a desperate plead to wait, to cling to his endless bright capability of finding a way when a way was not possible. Zoya would not try to sort out its meaning. She laid on her covers with the watch beside her, turning it in her hands as it caught the moonlight shining through the windows. When sleep came to claim her, she left it on her nightstand, focusing on its mellow ticking, a sliver of order to the chaos.

Coward , growled the beast inside her, trashing to be set free. Would you let him leave every time, until he comes back no more?

She thought back on the way she almost pleaded his name, on those seconds that stood suspended in time, when none of them had moved. She could have let go of her defenses; but then what? Why had she not said whatever was pressing in her lungs? Zoya had almost grown accustomed to those troubling doubts; she had every answer to them.

Why? Because they could not afford the tears that burned like daggers in her throat. Because they could not afford the longing that flared up the golden freckles of his irises. What would have happened if she had asked? She would have shut her lashes, and he would have reached for her, and the things that could not be would have weighed impossibly on them. The things that could not happen, in any of the lives they might be free to live.

The watch kept ticking. The dragon kept roaring, and the thorn wood kept strangling her heart, puncturing her skin.

They would keep marching. And the things that could not be would stay hidden in the silence and the rhythmic beat of a pointer slashing whatever time they had left. If she was someone else, Zoya might have hoped they could have it, not just symbolically, the gift of time. That those seconds that dripped away were not passing, that it was time they were earning. Wishful thinking and broken ideals lead nowhere, as a general knew. And she was not someone else, if not a soldier.

Nevertheless, when morning came, the timepiece rested on her nightstand, still ticking away. Zoya glanced at it as she got dressed; she brushed her hair, buttoned her kefta and put her boots on. And it kept ticking away, mercilessly calling to her.

And so she huffed in irritated surrender, and snatched it up and clasped it on the insides of her uniform. An instant relief flooded her; it matched her pulse, soothing her thoughts. She gave a tug to the kefta , smoothing its ruffled folds. She knew Nikolai would notice she was wearing it, at some point; for once, she could not bring herself to care that he was going to have this victory. Let him have it; and let her have something of him to hold.

That boy is going to be the death of me , she thought sourly, peering at herself in the mirror. A whisper arose from within, the careening thrum of her heart suggesting a different story, flashing the blank page of another chapter she could start writing, if she would only be brave enough.

What if he will be life?

[skvaderarts]

Apocrypha Chapter Fourteen: Simplicity

Masterlist can be found Here! Thanks!

Chapter Fourteen: Simplicity

Note: I'd love to know what you all think of the beach ark so far! I'm having a blast writing it, so I hope you've enjoyed it so far!

(-~-)

A hush fell over the quaint seaside sitting area that the pair found themselves under as they resigned themselves to silence, their minds and hearts heavy from the matter at hand. As the salty mist provided by the bay coated the pair in much needed moisture to help combat the sun's blistering rays, a gentle breeze picked up and shook the ancient tree they sat under. There was a certain level of peace and privacy that their surroundings provided them that they would be hard pressed to locate elsewhere, especially considering their proximity to the water. So they took the opportunity to think and clear their heads, safe from the prying eyes of the world around them.

Vergil stood with his back against the tree, his arms wrapped around himself as he pondered his next move. He was not fond of making promises that he couldn't keep, and as such, made a point not to do so. But in truth, he had no idea where to start looking for Vivienne. That trail had gone cold over two decades prior. He actually had more of an idea where Nero's mother might be than anything else, and even that was a longshot. The eldest Son of Sparda would need more information to work off of than he currently possessed if he hoped to actually achieve something worth wild.

This was going to be quite the undertaking.

Over on the bench just a yard or so away, V sat with his elbows against the tops of his thighs, his chin pressed into his cupped palms and he studied the ground in silence. He was far from used to being at such a profound loss for words. With his mastery of the english language notwithstanding, V was proficient in the art of speech despite his antisocial tendencies. So to have absolutely no idea what to say for several minutes on end was rather disconcerting to the young summoner. But despite that, he was determined to do something about that. He just had to sift through the murky pool in his mind and locate the particular topic he wished to discuss with his wayward father. That was proving to be quite the challenge however. And so he failed to progress any further.

The lack of diction between them dragged on for several agonizing minutes before one of them finally found the words to express anything close to what they were thinking about. If there was one thing they shared in that moment, it was a distinct lack of knowledge as to where to start the conversation they both knew they needed to have. V's mother's whereabouts were indeed important, but there was another matter they needed to get to the core of.

"You've grown quite again," Vergil said with an inaudible sigh, now sure that this might be one of the only aspects of his son's personality that caused him irritation. Testing the waters with his eldest child was not something he desired to do, but he was going to do so regardless. " Clearly you have something more you wish to discuss. I figured as much when I agreed to speak with you on these matters. Sugarcoating your intentions will get you nowhere. And I suggest you make haste. I suspect we will soon be missed."

V leaned in further towards the ground before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. He exhaled slowly, opening his eyes with the same lack of urgency he his respiratory process possessed. A part of him had waited a lifetime to ask Vergil this, but he'd never been able to make his vocal cords produce the necessary sounds required to say what needed to be said. Perhaps a part of him was worried that Vergil might be insulted? That he might leave him to his devices again? It was a strange hell that V inhabited where he wanted as little involvement with his father as possible, while simultaneously wanting nothing more than to speak with him and then harboring the desire to make him suffer as he had made him suffer in tandem with those same feelings. It boiled down to a situation where he had no idea what emotions and impulses to actually act on, it the metaphysical war of attrition wagering within him kept him at a stalemate that he had a difficult time bypassing. There were times when his entire existence felt like a cruel joke, and this was one of them.

"... Do you have any idea what it's like to wait for someone to return every day for your entire life only to finally encounter them and immediately be tossed aside?" For perhaps the first time ever, V made direct eye contact with Vergil as he spoke to him. There was a certain fire that flickered in his eyes, indicating to Vergil that he was being quite serious." I am unsure as to whether or not I possess the capacity to forgive something like that, but a part of me attempts to every time that I am near you. I have yet to succeed. And I have no meaningful answer as to why that is. Maybe you can… enlighten me."

The eldest Son of Sparda had to do a mental doubletake to assess whether or not he was talking to his normally non confrontational offspring. To be entirely honest, that was the sort of blunt, no nonsense response that he expected to receive from his youngest child. Being told by V that he wasn't sure he could ever forgive him was as unexpected as it was brutal and crushing, and he wasn't entirely surprised or sure as to why that cut him so deeply. He had assumed as much in the case of both of his sons. But when it came to his classically inclined child, nothing was ever simple, not least his feelings towards him. V had been the subject or motivation behind many of his shortcomings over the last few decades, but that was to no fault of his own. He had been an autonomous being, going about his own life and perseverance in spite of his own struggles. Vergil would never sink low enough to pin the blame on him for his own decisions. But he would be lying if he said he didn't contribute to Vergil's motivation to do some of the foolish things he had done. At this point, he could only hope that V was still willing to give him the chance to not be the man he already assumed he was. 

He had to show him that he was not beyond redemption. 

But how to do that when he had been largely responsible for so much of the evil and pain inflicted upon him over the years? Where to start?

Vergil allowed his arms to fall back down against his sides, his posture shifting as he stepped away from the tree and migrated over to the opposite end of the bench where the young summoner currently sat. There couldn't have been more than five feet between them, a fact that V seemed to silently note as he looked down towards the ground in an effort to avoid the frustration  and anxiety that was threatening to penetrate the very core of his being. He looked relatively calm and collected on the outside, but he was practically screaming on the inside. And Vergil could tell that just by looking at him, a fact that V was aware of but was unable to reconcile. He both loved and hated this facet of his father's personality. Vergil was very good at reading him. Maybe too much for his own good.

"You have no incentive to do so," Vergil said quietly, his voice trailing off as he made an effort to not betray the internal conflict surging within him. He suddenly felt an immense desire to kill something. He would have to find something to occupy his time this evening." Let me give you one. I owe that to both of you, I suppose."

As he spoke, Vergil's gaze traveled to the side slightly. The distant look in his eyes told V everything he needed to know in regards to who he was referring to. The younger white haired descendant of the Dark Knight Sparda leaned in and locked eyes with his father in an attempt to drive his point home. There would be no mistaking his intentions.

"Then prove that to me. I believe in the actions of those around me, not the empty promises they fail to keep" V said firmly, his temperament unwavering and his gaze unflinching. For a brief moment, Vergil knew what it was like for other people when they spoke to him. It was like looking in a mirror, and he wasn't sure he liked what he saw there; what he'd left there. V's gaze cut through him like a plasma cutter through soft steel, never relenting. He knew definitively that this was the only chance V was capable of giving him, and that it was a leap of faith that he didn't make lightly. His son was choosing to take him at his word; to trust him unconditionally. That was not something he could just push aside and hope to achieve at his leisure. Whatever V asked of him was now a priority.

"Very well, then. Tell me what you want from me. What are you asking me to do?" Vergil said, returning the intensity that V was inadvertently sending him. There was no hostility present in their exchange, only the pain that came from the vulnerability and trust they were attempting to convey to one another.

For a moment, V looked away, blinking heavily as if flinching away from what it was he wished to say. After a moment of looking idly at the traffic to the left side of them, a sad, almost pained smile crossed his face. It was a fleeting and fragile thing, nearly imperceptible and small. But it carried the weight of a lifetime of suffering with it. Vergil couldn't help but wonder what weighed so heavily upon V's consciousness; what skellingtons slumbered in the dark recesses of his mind. Anyone who looked him in the eyes could see the truth in the pain that lingered in them. Perhaps that was why he avoided eye contact with others. After all, the eyes were the windows to the soul. And the soul that Vergil caught a glimpse of everytime he looked into them was one that had suffered enough in the short time that it had existed to last a lifetime. He would do what he could to mend that. That was what he was supposed to do. And that's what his father would have done if their positions were switched. He would honor the example set before him and rectify the mistakes of his past, even if he was just doing so in the smallest of ways.

"Great things are done when men and mountains meet." 

Their favorite poet had said that once. How right he had been.

"... I want the same thing now that I've wanted from you my entire life," V locked eyes with him again, the green orbs now slightly glossier than they had been mere moments ago. He had lost none of his intensity, something he shared with both of his parents," I just want you to care that I exist. I think Nero would appreciate that as well. Don't push us aside. As it stands, you're the only parent we have. Treat us like we matter to you. I've never experienced that, and I'm willing to bet that Nero hasn't either. Can you do that?"

Vergil nodded so slightly that it was almost totally missable, but V picked up upon it. Although brief in the grand scheme of things, he and Dante had known the love of their parents and had spent meaningful time with them. But be it intentionally or not, he had deprived both of his sons the care and attention they deserved from him. He could not speak for the motivations both of their mothers had possessed when they had chosen to remove themselves from their lives, but he could speak for himself. And he could admit that he should have been there. A part of him could care less if he'd known that Nero existed or not. Those were precious moments that he would never get to experience with them. He couldn't get them back, but he could stop squandering the opportunity that he currently possessed.

"Yes. Yes, I could. "How fortunate that the one thing V seemed to want from him was the one thing he had already planned to give him." I will speak with Nero. We have much to discuss. In the meantime, we should join the others. Dante will soon devize some convoluted plan to disturb us if we do not. There are too many witnesses for me to enact a proper revenge plot if he does so, and I have no plans to forfeit victory to him."

V nodded. Vergil was more than likely correct. He would go with him to join the others. His butt was starting to get sore from sitting on the slats on the bench anyway.

(-~-)

A wave of disbelief passed over the girls as Kyrie stood before them. Patty gaped, her hands clasped together and pulled tightly against her chest as she bobbed up and down in place. The young blond was absolutely thrilled to death by what they had just accomplished. Nico stood next to her, shaking her head in quiet disbelief. A part of her was admittedly irritated that she didn't have some sort of camera that she could use to document this priceless moment for all eternity, but she was more than a little bit sure that Kyrie was happy that wasn't the case. There could be no proof that she had ever done this. Rumors were enough.

Lady and Trish were just as shocked as their cohorts, but Trish just stared in disbelief and shock while Lady cackled like an immature schoolgirl. They were so angry that they hadn't dragged Nero along for this little shopping trip. But, to be fair, there was no way that they would have gotten Kyrie into such a sexy little number with him present. The poor girl already looked like she was going to drop dead from shock and anxiety just standing in the store dressing room.

"Well… h-how do I l-look everyone? Do I look okay?" She asked meekly, too embarrassed and put off by all the staring eyes to really know how to process their feedback. She wasn't accustomed to wearing a swimsuit, let alone a halter top styled one. Sparda above, she had to be out of her mind for agreeing to do this.

"You have to wear that to the beach, Kyrie," Lady said, tipping her sunglasses. The young brunette looked absolutely adorable in the simple blue and white polka dot swimsuit, and they would die before they missed the opportunity to knock the wind and the willpower out of Nero's body. Quite possibly his legs, too. He would drop dead at the sight of her.

"You look adorable. Lady is right." Trish said, giving her a gentle pat on the shoulder. She could tell that the young songstress needed reassurance. She wasn't as confident as them when it came to these sorts of things. A surefire side effect of her upbringing and environment. While things were becoming more modern and less stuffy in Fortuna, it was a slow battle that would take years to see meaningful progress. Everyone was too stuck in their ways for immediate change. 

Kyrie blushed harder. She wasn't used to being in anything that wasn't a long sleeve. She knew that how she was reacting was probably silly, but she simply couldn't help herself. As she considered the kind words of her companions, Patty pulled the ponytail holder off of her own hair and allowed her hair to fall down against her shoulders and back. She then pulled Kyrie's hair up into a messy bun and bound it into place, stepping back to admire her work. The girls all giggled like teenage cheerleaders in a cheesy sitcom and ushered the young brunette over to a mirror that was near to them, eager to show her just how cute she looked in the outfit they had picked out for her. She took a moment to adjust the ruffle one piece bathing suite and fix her hair slightly before putting on a brave face and turning back towards her friends. She trusted their judgement. They would never do something unbecoming to her. It wasn't in them.

"Do… Do you really think I look good in this?" She asked earnestly, allowing her hands to fall down against her sides before taking a deep breath. Kyrie had to admit that a part of her did in fact find the article of clothing they'd picked out for her adorable, but she wasn't sure if it was for her. It seemed like something that would look better on any of the other girls she was with. After all, wasn't she too… plain for something like this? She didn't have patty's golden blonde hair, Lady's stunning heterochromia, or Trish's… well, everything. And Then there was Nico. As far as she was concerned, everything about her meant that something like this was better suited for her. She had tattoos after all. She wasn't bashful about displaying her art to the world around her. Kyrie wasn't sure if she fit into this kind of group or this kind of outfit, even if Nero never shut up about how wonderful and lovely she was. She just didn't know what all these beautiful people saw in her.

The group standing before her seemed to clue into her apprehension. Nico wrapped her arms around her shoulders, squeezing her tightly. "Now you listen here, lil missy. You're just as cute as the rest of us, and don't ya dare think otherwise!"

Patty planted her hands on her hips firmly, nodding in approval. Her face was as serious as it was compassionate. "I agree with Nico, Kyrie! You're wonderful! Why do you think we love to hang out with you so much, you silly nilly? We all see how pretty you are. Every single one of us. There's different types of pretty, you know? Don't compare yourself to us. Just be you, Kyrie! You're great already!"

Kyrie blinked away the moisture that had begun to form in her large brown doe eyes, flustered by the compliments and kindness she was being showered in. Her friends were right! She was pretty, and so was the outfit they had picked out for her! She was going to show it to Nero, or die trying. With a determined nod, she smiled, putting on a brave face. She was going to have fun on this vacation, and no one was going to stop her. And if they did, she had a posse comprised of the toughest girls around to back her up. It was going to be okay.

"You know what… your right! I do look pretty," Kyrie beamed brightly, her smile returning as she nodded in conformation," Let's buy it. I can't wait to show it to Nero and see what he thinks!"

The girls nodded and ushered her towards the counter before she could come to her senses. They were positive they couldn't talk her into this a second time, so there was no room for error. They had to get a receipt in their hands before she snapped out of whatever spell she had just fallen under, and get her outside in the sand. Time was of the essence.

(-~-)

I hope you all enjoyed this continuation of what was going on in the last chapter! Kyrie needed a little pick me up with other girls, damn it! She never gets to feel pretty XD Stay safe out there, and I'll see you on Friday! I look forward to reading your thoughts on things so far! You're all wonderful!

[softjeon]

Drown in me | Pt. 3

�� Pairing: Pirate!Yoongi x Siren!Jungkook • Genre: Angst, Fluff | Pirate!AU / Siren!AU ( → Gifset Trailer) • Words: 9,5k • Disclaimer: mentioning of blood, alcohol, abuse, nsfw content

written with @cassiavioletblue

↳  “When I sing…people do weird things. Strange things happen.” Yoongi laughed awkwardly but stopped right away when he realized that Jungkook was serious about what he had said. This wasn’t a scared little boy trying to make use of some fairytale to scare the captain of the ship he’s been brought on into submission. He believed what he said.

« previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter »

Since Yoongi had found the map on Jungkook’s back a lot of things had changed. He looked at it first thing every morning, right after waking up. Jungkook had made a little habit of his own as he tended to sleep in his bed now. Of course Yoongi would never say it out loud but he actually loved this, getting to bed and finding that Jungkook had already warmed it for him with his body or spending the sleepless hours he sometimes had and usually spent staring holes into the planks of his ship and questioning his existence with different distractions like tracing the star spots on Jungkook’s back or just watching him sleep. He just seemed to become more and more beautiful the longer he looked at him.

Namjoon had joked that apparently Jungkook had bewitched him after all because he looked at him the same way he had looked at treasures before. Needless to say, that Yoongi had just completely ignored him. No one bewitched the black captain. He just was a man with needs and having someone like Jungkook close to him all the time brought up certain thoughts of course.

That was all.

While the crew was getting the ship ready, some men were loading sufficient provision, some saying goodbye to their families as they were ready to take on a new adventure and Hoseok leaned over the map that had been transferred from Jungkook.

“And you are sure that this is the only way to get there?“ Hoseok hummed, eyeing the map and studying it carefully. As the main navigator he had to make sure they all got to their destination safely and the route that the captain chose this time wouldn't make it easier. “We're sailing close to Nightmare's territory and this isn't calm water. And this right here, there's a reef, we could run aground if we’re not working together. We have to be careful and slow. You sure you want to do this?“

“Ah, no, now that you told me this I think we should all just retire, give up the ship and live calm, riskless lives till we die.” Yoongi laughed at Hoseok’s face, “Come on, we are pirates. Since when are we afraid of reefs or riffs or other pirates?“ He had to admit that those kind of pirates were pretty scary, and the ‘Nightmare’ was a ship that lived up to its name but he definitely wouldn‘t say that out loud in front of his crew. To them he was their fearless captain!

“Just wanted to make sure. You have been acting awfully soft lately,” Hoseok nodded nonetheless with a proud smirk. “Let’s get some magical treasure then.”

...

Jungkook leaned over the edge of the ship, enjoying the salty breeze. It was still weird sometimes to be able to roam around freely - well, as freely as he could. Yoongi was always close, his eyes on him as if he still didn't believe Jungkook would stay. But the siren wanted to see the mirror, too. He had an aim now. And staying with the pirates hadn’t turned out to be so bad.

“Oh, this one is pretty!” Jungkook had wanted to go back into the cabin, when he saw the shell collection that a pirate was sorting out, taking in new ones, carefully cleaning them and making sure they would glisten perfectly under the sun. He got onto his knees, reaching for one of the closed oysters that were still alive “Can I?“

Jungkook motioned for the young pirate to be quiet, to not make a big fuss about it and held his palm on top of the oyster careful not to hurt it. “I can't promise that there will be a pearl,“ Jungkook whispered, when the oyster began to tremble and open up, “This way you don't have to hurt them.“

The young siren smiled, seeing Yoongi out of the corner of his eyes, observing them carefully as if someone could jump and try to attack him again. He came up to them, watching how delicately Jungkook handled the oyster. They would die on land and for a horrible second he wondered if keeping Jungkook on his ship would kill him too. Not for the lack of water but because of the risks Hoseok had just reminded him of. His crew was used to this kind of life - but Jungkook was gentle and caring and if they got in a fight Jungkook would be the first to fall if he couldn’t defend himself. He couldn’t just start to sing or else all of them would feel the effects. “Hey fishboy. Are you trying to get yourself a pet here?” He smiled as if he wasn’t just thinking about how he wouldn’t be able to take it if Jungkook died. Just because of the treasure of course.

Jungkook shook his head, “I don't know what you call it, but I wanted to make a friend. Not a pet.“ He looked at Taehyung who was just as cluelessly looking back at his captain, thinking Yoongi had talked about Tae and not the oyster. His expression only changed when he saw that there was really a pearl inside of the oyster. Jungkook smiled at him, “If you take him back into the ocean, I'll promise every oyster will open for you in the future.“ He winked at the pirate and got up.

“So, you are friends with oysters?” Yoongi smirked. “What else are you friends with? Just so I know what not to serve you.” He wasn’t entirely joking because since Jungkook had taken him swimming and that oyster had given him a pearl he hadn’t asked for oysters in the kitchen again. Seeing Jungkook so happy about their interaction had ruined his appetite for them. Hopefully Jungkook wasn’t friends with every fish in the ocean or else they’d run out of food.

Jungkook sighed, thinking about answering Yoongi for a second before he just walked ahead and back under deck. He had enough of his teasing, and he couldn't count the times that he told Yoongi that he wasn't a fish and couldn’t communicate with them.

With the Siren gone Yoongi could talk freely to Tae who was tossing the oysters and other clams that were still alive back into the water. “Hey.” The pirate looked up at the careful tone of his captains voice. “You know that we’re going to sail some dangerous waters right? I’ll be a lot on deck and Namjoon and Hobi will be as well. I figured you’re not scared of Jungkook like most of the others? So, it would be really nice if you could have an eye on him in case anything... happens.” He didn’t have to elaborate, something ‘happening’ on a pirate ship usually meant the same things: shallow banks, navy ships or other pirates. He would feel better knowing that Taehyung was looking out for Jungkook because even though Taehyung seemed just as soft as Jungkook at first glance he could become a ruthless, merciless pirate in case someone threatened to hurt crewmembers - and hopefully he would think of Jungkook as a crewmember as well.

Taehyung simply nodded at the order, returning his attention to his collection. Maybe the siren could help him find more rare shells in return.

Down in the captain's cabin, Jungkook watched Jin set the table for two. But when Yoongi still wasn't showing up Jungkook just ate by himself, shuffling over to the bed right after. The salty air had made him tired. Even though it had become almost a routine to eat dinner together, Jungkook knew that Yoongi still had to lead his crew and his ship. He yawned tiredly, getting rid of his clothes, before he slipped under the blanket.

…

Yoongi returned to his cabin late with the sky already dark and the stars glistening. Every time he looked up at them it made him think of Jungkook now. He sighed deeply as he stretched out his muscles from a long day of ‘pirating’ as Jungkook had called it once. Speaking of which the younger had stolen his bed again, lying so outstretched that he would have to gently nudge him aside to find room. He got out of his clothes and then tried to make Jungkook roll over without waking him - which he failed because the siren sniffled a little and then opened his eyes. “Don’t mind me, I’m just trying to find some room in my bed, pretty.” Finally, he could get into bed with Jungkook and the warmed up covers felt perfect against his cold skin.

Jungkook only mumbled something that he couldn't understand as an answer, before he noticed how cold Yoongi's body was. He shivered, turning around to pull the captain closer and the blanket tighter around their bodies. “You're ice cold,“ Jungkook whispered sleepily, placing his warm hand onto Yoongi's cold and naked chest. The pirate captain chuckled at that, liking the feel of Jungkook’s hands against his body way too much. “Well why don’t you warm me up then?” He leaned in to brush a lost strand back behind Jungkook’s face and let his hand linger there a little before he let it trail a tingling path all the way over his shoulder to the small of Jungkook’s back. “Have you decided on a proper location yet?” The amusement was sparkling in his eyes.

“Whenever you aren't afraid of me anymore.” Jungkook answered boldly but the younger’s heart skipped a few beats nonetheless as heat was rushing up into his cheeks. “You're still afraid to be bewitched by my kiss? To drown?” He smirked, nuzzling his face back into the cushion and closed his eyes again. “I always thought pirates aren't afraid of anything.“

The surprise rendered him speechless but just for a second. He had thought that Jungkook would blush again and get flustered, maybe shyly admit that he wasn’t sure yet. That the siren practically gave him a pass right now came as a pleasant revelation.

He lowered his voice, whispering dark and promising into Jungkook’s ear, “Oh pretty, I’m not scared of you. I just tried to be polite and give you time to wrap your head around what it’s going to be like for you to be my companion in bed. Though if thinking I’m scared of you was the only thing holding you back then now that it’s out of the way…” He finished his sentence by shifting his weight and leaning over Jungkook. The younger looked up at him, so beautiful, so tempting and Yoongi just surrender to his desire. He closed the sirens mouth with his, hungry and demanding while his hand was finding a way to Jungkook’s chest, touching, feeling, teasing his naked skin. He was kissing the surprised gasp right from Jungkook’s lips. The kiss was effectively shutting down every worry or doubt in the siren’s mind. It had been a long time since someone had kissed him like that and Yoongi’s hands on his skin just felt too good to push away again. He had wanted this, he wanted Yoongi. He would have lied if he told otherwise. Wherever he went, Jungkook felt the longing stare on his back and when he turned around he saw Yoongi and his heart ached blissfully, a feeling he was chasing without even noticing. He had gotten used to sleeping next to him way too quickly and whenever Jungkook woke up without Yoongi by his side it felt like something was missing. He barely knew him and still, here he was, lying underneath the handsome pirate, kissing him back just as eagerly. Before he had wanted nothing but his freedom and when Yoongi gave the choice back to him, Jungkook fought the urge to just stay in the other’s arms. And although he was scared that Yoongi would not care anymore as soon as he got the treasure and that he only wanted him because of the part that was seductively siren in Jungkook, he couldn’t stop.

Jungkook moaned quietly, pulling Yoongi in closer by his waist. Yoongi felt relief wash over him as Jungkook kissed him back just as heatedly, obviously on the same page as him. He hadn't been entirely sure if it was just the siren’s nature to react to flirting and tease right back, but this reaction felt real. He quickly pushed down Jungkook's underpants that the younger wore for sleeping because everything between him and Jungkook's body felt like a personal affront. He couldn't wait to touch all of him, explore every part of his body, every inch of his skin…

The need started burning in his gut, his body reacting to the mental stimulation it got. Jungkook could feel the need rush through his body, making him impatient and feeling way too hot. Nonetheless he couldn’t help but blush, when Yoongi pulled down his underwear so eagerly. Jungkook just kept on kissing Yoongi, nibbling at his lips, his jawline and only let go off him when the pirate got rid of his own pants.

He had seen Yoongi naked before, it was nothing new, but still it felt like he saw him for the first time like this. He gulped, a rosy blush on his cheeks when Yoongi hovered back over him, kissing his neck. Jungkook instinctively spread his thighs a little further so he could feel Yoongi even closer on him, while his hands were exploring Yoongi’s body, tracing softly over a few scars from what he assumed must be from fights, before he pushed his lips back onto his. Yoongi comfortably lied back down in between Jungkook’s thighs. Feeling how willingly the younger spread them for him had him stifling a moan. He couldn’t wait to be inside him.

He inwardly groaned - not the nice kind of groan this time - when he remembered that he needed to use something on the siren to make it easier for them and that he didn’t keep stuff like that next to his bed. Though when he needed to get up from the bed anyways he could also lock the door to prevent a drunken visit from Namjoon again. If it was going well then his crew members would hear what was happening anyways as he doubted that Jungkook wouldn’t be vocal.

Jungkook propped himself up on his elbows, watching Yoongi with a fast beating heart. The sound of the door locking made him jerk a little, as he felt so on edge and sensitive already, while his eyes stayed glued on Yoongi’s back. He tried to see what the other was doing, for a second thinking that Yoongi might have changed his mind. The doubts came just as fast as they were gone again, when the pirate turned around. Jungkook relaxed visibly when he saw that it wasn’t a cloth or anything alike to stuff his mouth with.

At the wide eyed look Jungkook gave him Yoongi startled a little. Getting up from the bed without a word after making out probably hadn’t been his best idea. “Don’t worry I just got some coconut oil from the shelf. It should work. I’ve used that kind of stuff before.” He got back on the bed, sitting back on his heels and then ordering, “Turn around for me, please.”

Jungkook couldn’t decipher the feeling inside of him, anything of it really: The aching to let Yoongi have him, the fear in him, the anxiety that he would let go off him as soon as he got his treasure and that he was just someone to spend the nights with. And still he wanted him. Jungkook tried to wave it off that he was just having his ‘needs’ too. He just couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Jungkook did as Yoongi ordered and turned around to look at him over his shoulder, biting his lip in excitement. Yoongi gave the younger a once over, from his long neck down over his shoulder blades that still stuck out a little too much even though Jungkook ate more regularly now since they had established their new rules of him being not-quite a prisoner. His small waist gave his body a slight curve that Yoongi found incredibly attractive. His eyes were glued on the siren as he opened the jar with the oil. He generously coated his erection with it, jerking himself a few times until it became too slippery to be enjoyable. However, it would be different with Jungkook‘s body so he added a bit more just to be sure and then wiped his hands clean on the sheets. He needed a good grip on Jungkook‘s hips.

Jungkook’s heart was only beating faster when he watched Yoongi jerking himself, soft, low groans leaving his lips and the need to lean in and kiss him again overwhelmed him completely. He felt a little left out, that was until Yoongi gripped him tight around his hips, pulling him closer and tearing a squeal from him. Jungkook instinctively spread his thighs a little more to give Yoongi better access. Yoongi positioned himself at Jungkook’s entrance and started to push in, only going slower when he felt how much Jungkook’s body resisted. He’s had a lot of sex so far, seeking distraction on every island they landed on, but he had always chosen the easy, no-strings-attached way; which meant male prostitutes, rent boys, the men he found on the side of the street or in certain bars. He’s never had to prepare them before. Jungkook was different though and Yoongi was a little out of his depth when he realized he might be going too fast for him.

“You... you’re not a virgin, are you? You’ve done this before…with humans?” He stuttered, trying to keep himself from pushing further in because the tightness felt heavenly - even though he knew it must be a little too much for Kook.

Jungkook nodded his head, his hands gripping the bed sheets tightly. “Y-yes, but you know…the kidnapping and…all,” He was panting, chuckling low, “The last one sold me to those sailors.” Reaching behind him, Jungkook held onto Yoongi’s waist keeping him steady, “Just go slow, okay? I can take some pain.” He looked over his shoulder for a moment, his gaze turning sultry, “I really want you, Yoongi.” Slowly, Jungkook moved his hips, gasping when the feel of being stretched out hit him hard – but he didn’t stop.

“You mean..?” Jungkook didn’t seem the type to look for one night stands so if Yoongi wasn’t wrong then the Siren had just told him that the last person he had trusted or been in love with had sold him into being a prisoner on a ship. Which only very few managed to survive. Ships had their own laws. Even for a human being sold like this promised a nightmare to come - and all the more if you were a creature of the sea supposed to show the crew a way to magical treasures you didn’t know much about. It must have broken Jungkook’s heart.

Yoongi leaned over him, suddenly feeling protective and started kissing his neck,  soothing over his shoulder to relax him. The only thing he was grateful for was that if Jungkook’s last time had been with that dishonorable prick it meant that the sailors at least hadn’t touched him. Going slow together with his caresses seemed to make it a little easier for the younger as he slowly opened up to him, inch by inch. Yoongi’s thighs trembled from the tension of holding himself back. It felt so good, better than he had ever felt before. “Fuck, you’re... incredible!” His suppressed moans sounded desperate already even though they hadn’t really started yet.

Jungkook couldn’t keep from smiling, feeling proud that he was the one making Yoongi so desperate, his fingertips digging deeper into his waist. The younger felt totally breathless when Yoongi completely bottomed out and he was sweating already. Jungkook moved his hips slowly, circling them to get used to the feeling of being filled, pushing back onto Yoongi with a little pressure, then a little more. Soft moans were spilling from Jungkook’s lips, “Please, Yoongi!”

Yoongi cursed filthily in best pirate manner when his hips met Jungkook’s ass. The younger felt better than he could have ever imagined or dreamed of; he was pure tightness and velvety heat, perfect muscles and peachy skin under his touch. “You good?” His breath didn’t last for more and he was actually quite proud that he waited for Jungkook’s affirmation before moving although everything in him ached to thrust forward and indulge himself in the younger’s sweet body. He wanted to take as much as he could before he would lose Jungkook to the water or another ship again. “Mh’ yeah, would be better if you started fucking me, or is this it?” Jungkook answered cheekily, although he knew better by now not to tease the pirate. He smirked, pushing his ass back onto him sensually.

”Did you just..?” Yoongi’s mouth hung open before his expression turned dangerous. “Whatever you want, baby. Just don’t come crying to me if you can’t walk tomorrow. I’ll make you remember who had that sweet ass of yours.” He rubbed his palm over the firm flesh before roughly pulling the boy back against him. He could feel himself slide in deeper and from the way Jungkook shuddered helplessly he wasn’t the only one who felt like he was losing his mind from pleasure. With his hands on Jungkook’s ass and his weight on top of the younger he controlled him completely, setting a deep and dirty pace that had the bed shaking. Jungkook was trying to hold onto the headboard to keep himself steady, the thrusts making him jerk forward with each push. “Ah, it feels so good,” He moaned and laid his head back down onto the cushion, his ass up as he reached for Yoongi’s hand. He placed his own on top, just to feel him even closer. Jungkook couldn’t withstand Yoongi, not physically nor emotionally. The thrusts were hitting deep, making him shake and tremble so quickly like he never had before. Jungkook closed his eyes, dwelling in the pleasure, sweet, melodic moans the only thing that mixed with his heavy pants.

The moment Jungkook started to moan for real was when Yoongi felt it; it was like being hit with something hot, like a wave that pulled him under. He didn’t stand a chance from the onslaught of pleasure that filled him, so suddenly that he almost lost balance.

“Oh.. oh fuck!” He held onto the younger for dear life as his harsh, deep trusts only teased more sounds from Jungkook’s throat. The more he used his voice the more unbearable the desire became, ebbing and flowing through his body like the ocean, filling his senses, his mind until he couldn’t think about anything else but Jungkook and that he was inside of him. He wanted to become one with Jungkook so desperately, to come inside of him and make the siren fall apart because of him that it became a need more important than oxygen. He needed to feel Jungkook closer, to fill him out, make him his, etch himself into Jungkook’s heart and body as deeply as he could.

Jungkook could feel his thighs shaking with the way Yoongi was going for it. He sat up a little more, leaning back and letting the pirate wrap his arms around him to keep him seated on his cock while he turned to kiss him sloppily. Jungkook loved the feel of Yoongi’s sweaty chest against his back, his warmth and secure hold and the force with which he fucked him. He stole one more kiss, before the siren let himself fall onto his hands again, spreading his thighs a little more and starting to jerk himself off. Jungkook moaned Yoongi’s name loudly, his hole tightening deliciously around the pirate’s cock with each stroke.

Yoongi held onto the siren as if he was everything that kept him from losing his mind and right now it felt like exactly that. He whispered praises into Jungkook’s ear, telling him how beautiful he was, how kind, how much he loved to see his smile first thing in the morning when it was still a little sleepy and only meant for him. He told him breathlessly how much he loved to watch Jungkook by the sea and how he had wanted to drag him into his cabin and just take him whenever Jungkook had gone skinny dipping, presenting that well rounded ass to the pirate as if he was teasing him with a delicacy he wasn’t allowed to taste. The words just kept coming as if something had loosened his tongue and made his heart spill over, so that he was confessing all his feelings in a rush, a fresh haze of heat burning him from the inside out whenever Jungkook so much as gasped or moaned or melodically whimpered his name while he touched himself.

Jungkook’s jerks were getting more desperate, his pants and moans louder so that he was sure his magic was reaching further than the captain’s cabin by now – but he didn’t care. Nothing of it was harmful anyways. A smile played on his lips, when he trembled and Jungkook pushed his ass back a little more, “M’ so close, please.”

Yoongi was close as well - but he couldn’t speak or tell him otherwise, his voice had been lost in what he was feeling. He was too far gone to realize that it was the siren’s magic that had infected him, heightening his pleasure because that’s what Jungkook was feeling. He was at the mercy of his own desires, his own lust and the closer Jungkook got to finishing off the more intense it got and the more overwhelmed he felt.

His grip around Jungkook’s waist tightened as if he never wanted to let go of the boy, his thrusts becoming more sharp and reckless as he chased his own pleasure. He fucked Jungkook so hard that the boy gasped for breath each time the pirate snapped his hips forward, right into his sweet spot that made him see stars flashing in front of his eyes. It didn’t take long for Jungkook to fall apart right on his cock. His thighs were trembling, his whole body shaking from the pleasure as he cried out. Jungkook fell forward, a quivering mess, his muscles clenching tightly from the waves of his orgasm, feeling blissfully gone in pure ecstasy. Each stroke inside of him, made him shiver even more, intensifying the feeling and when Yoongi began to tremble, his thrusts faltering, Jungkook was still clenching around him in aftershocks, trying to catch his breath. Yoongi came hard and with a hoarse cry, harder than he could ever remember coming before. He kept Jungkook close to him, riding out his orgasm buried deeply inside the younger’s sensitive body until the siren started twitching and jerking every time Yoongi’s shallow thrusts send him further into overstimulation. Yoongi tried to find his voice or get his breath back but failed miserably, still lost in the waves of pleasure when Jungkook's body stopped shaking and his own muscles stopped trembling as well.

When Yoongi finally pulled out, Jungkook just let go and let himself fall into the bed. The wet, hot cum inside of him had him feeling so utterly dirty but Jungkook couldn’t get himself to get up right now. He sighed softly, feeling Yoongi’s body slump down next to him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the…the moans,” Jungkook whispered and turned to look at him, “But you looked so beautiful when you were gone, and it doesn’t harm you. I didn’t want you to be scared.” A faint smile appeared on his lips and Jungkook shifted a little closer to Yoongi, holding onto him tightly. “Oh,” It made a lot more sense now, how incredible Jungkook had felt and how he had lost himself so quickly. He couldn’t find it in him to care though. He felt amazing. Sated and boneless, limbs heavy and mind blissed out. “Were you trying to bewitch me, or does it come naturally to you?” He lowered his voice to whisper into Kook’s ear, “Do you get everyone hot and bothered every time you jerk off too? Maybe that’s why I wanted you so much. How often did you make yourself come next to me at night, moaning your siren song into my ear?” He didn’t mind the sweat or cum on Jungkook, so he pulled him back in, nipping at the juncture of his neck. When it didn’t have enough of an effect he rubbed over Jungkook’s nipples, knowing that the other must be hyper aware of his oversensitivity right now.

The siren shivered, “No, it comes naturally.“ Gasping lightly, Jungkook felt too weak to hold Yoongi back, letting him nibble and kiss him everywhere he could reach. “What?“ He placed a hand on Yoongi's chest, “I would never, not when you're sleeping next to me. Did you?“ Jungkook's eyes grew wider at the sudden imagery in his head.

Yoongi smirked, kissing Jungkook's cheek half smug, half apologetically. "Yeah, I did. After we went into the sea together and I saw you naked and wet, and so so fucking beautiful and then you let me touch you - and practically told me that I could fuck you some time...you didn't think that would leave me cold, did you?" At Jungkook's shy reaction he added, "Don't worry, I didn't touch you, I just waited till you were asleep and then imagined how it would feel to sink into your tight heat and take you right on that beach. Nothing I imagined came even close to what it actually feels like to fuck you though. I hope you enjoyed it because I definitely want to do this again. And next time I know I need to go slow first. You're not hurting, are you?”

The younger’s cheeks were blushing, and he mindlessly drew pattern into Yoongi’s chest in his embarrassment, “N-no. I’m okay. I’ll just go and wash up really quick.” Jungkook leaned in and placed a kiss on the pirates cheek, one that let his own heart jump, because he’d never been the one to initiate things like that. Jungkook carefully got up and around the bed, giving Yoongi the perfect view of the bruises forming around his waist where he had gripped him tightly. Looking over his shoulder, he smiled, before he vanished into the small bathroom to wash himself. The bowl filled with water was ice cold, but Jungkook didn’t mind right now. He could hear Yoongi shift around in the room and when he came back, he noticed the changed sheets. “Thank you.” Jungkook whispered and laid back down next to him, not even bothering to put clothes back on. He put his arm around Yoongi’s waist, pulling himself in. Tiredly, he nuzzled his face closer, blending out every doubt and thought about how Yoongi was just using him and would drop him soon after he got what he wanted: the treasure. Jungkook was just a beautiful siren that passed his way and the more he thought about it, the more he realized his own fears had changed. Jungkook shuddered.

"Are you cold?" Yoongi had misinterpreted Jungkook's shudder and held him a little tighter to his chest, rubbing over his arms to warm him up. "I can get you another blanket if you want?" Suggesting that Jungkook put his clothes back on wasn't an option as he liked it too much to have the younger naked in his arms. Seeing the bruises on Kook made him feel satisfied as it would mean Kook would remember him - it was something he thought about sometimes. As a pirate he went in and out of people's life whenever they visited an Island and except for his crew no one really knew him. He couldn't change that - and also shouldn't for safety reasons. But at least he could imprint his presence in someone’s body, hoping he would live in their thoughts a little longer.

“I’m fine,” Jungkook closed his eyes and leaned his head on Yoongi’s chest, seeking the warmth of his body heat, which made it so easy to fall asleep, feeling safe in the pirates embrace.

He only woke, when the sun was shining through the bullseye again and there was no way he could sleep any longer.

Jungkook groaned, turning when he felt Yoongi leave the bed. Pursing his lips into a pout, the younger blinked his eyes open. With a sigh, he pushed the blanket away from his body and got up as well. He walked past the pirate and towards the drawer where Yoongi stored his clothes to try and find something that fit him. Unfortunately for the pirate, he could see now that the bruises were all gone and where his handprints had been the night before, there was only soft, milky skin now.

Yoongi, stopped short. He had to make a double take before he could believe it: All of the marks he had so proudly and possessively left on Jungkook‘s skin were gone. Of course, when the siren‘s ability to heal himself was able to handle cuts then a few superficial bruises were gone in no time. He hadn‘t thought about this yesterday so today came as a surprise. Yoongi huffed, feeling personally offended by Jungkook‘s healing abilities even though he knew that it was childish, that Jungkook couldn‘t control that - and that it would just give him a reason to bruise Jungkook up anew. In bed. Maybe even tonight.

“You okay?” Jungkook turned to look at the pirate when he huffed, walking over to him to brush his hand through his hair. He let his hand wander down to Yoongi’s cheek, lingering there for a little while as his gaze locked with his. Jungkook leaned in, wanting to kiss Yoongi again, but a knock on the cabin’s door made him jerk away and leave his embrace. He quickly put a shirt on, before Namjoon peeked through the door once more interrupting them. Yoongi wished he hadn’t unlocked the door already.

“You slept pretty long. How about you skip breakfast and come on deck? Hoseok needs you to help and guide through the shallow sea.” Jungkook sighed softly, folding his hands together. If Yoongi would skip breakfast, then he would need to, too. No matter where Yoongi went, and although he didn’t call him a prisoner anymore, the captain never let him out of sight.

“Great.” Yoongi’s voice was saturated with sarcasm. “You really know how to ruin my mood, Namjoon,” He took Jungkook’s chin and turned the boy’s head around to kiss him deeply and possessively, completely ignoring Namjoon’s presence. Then he leaned in, whispering a few words into Jungkook’s ear, “Why don’t you have breakfast without me and then we met back at lunch. You shouldn’t skip a meal because you’ll need your strength. Apparently your body is adamant on making it seem like I never touched you which means I’ll have to make you remember me every night.” He smirked, half promising half annoyed from how they needed to part and then quickly followed Namjoon back on deck.

Jungkook stood frozen on the spot and when Yoongi was gone and the door closed, he was completely and utterly confused. Turning around, he didn’t quite know what to do with himself now, when usually he’d follow the captain around. And only after a couple of minutes of calming his fast beating heart, did Jungkook get out of the cabin, carefully tip toeing into the kitchen to search for breakfast. Whenever a crew member passed him, Jungkook almost pressed himself to the wall, averting his gaze, not wanting to get any attention on why he was walking around alone – but luckily, no one seemed to mind.

…

“Yoongi god fucking damn it,” Hoseok yelled, “Tell your dumb ass crew to look out larboard as well. If we run aground because they thought they only need to observe one side then I’ll fucking jump off this ship and let you all sail with ten knots against a cliff.”

The captain’s answer was an angry growl. Not only was Hoseok  talking to him in a way that he shouldn’t but he was also right with what he was saying which made it even worse.

“You are part of that dumbass crew!” He reminded him roughly, “And if you don't stop running your mouth like that then you’ll go overboard either way.” He normally just overlooked Hoseok’s way of talking to him as the other did an amazing job, but he was agitated already so angering him further wouldn’t be a healthy choice for anyone today.

Jungkook was munching on an apple that Jin had given him, saying that he looked as if he was lacking vitamins, and got back on deck. He regretted it the minute he stepped out into the sun. There were crew members running around, he could hear the navigator and Yoongi screaming orders, yelling over of each other.

“If you fucking get just one scratch into my beautiful ship…”

Jungkook turned to look over his shoulder at the angry growl and up to the steering wheel, chuckling quietly. He walked ahead, his eyes only on Yoongi, when someone bumped into him roughly making him stumble. The crew member just disregarded him quickly, running off to the other side of the ship. Jungkook huffed in annoyance. “Here, Jin made you some tea and this bread is for you.” He held the metal can and the food out for the captain with a smile. “He says you shouldn’t drink whisky this early and you’ll only get it at lunch.” Jungkook quickly stepped aside again when another pirate was almost running him over.

“I can’t eat right now!” Yoongi disregarded his nice gesture with an annoyed glance. It was cute that Jungkook had thought of him but right now he didn’t have any capacities left for pleasantries, he was busy trying to stay afloat and keep them on the water instead of under it. “You eat it - you need it anyway.” He ran over to another pirate, yelling at him for taking the wrong rope and messing up the knots.

For the second time today, Jungkook stood completely confused, looking down at the bread and tea. He bit his lip. The younger could clearly see that Yoongi had his hands full, but still the way Yoongi had talked to him left a bitter taste in his mouth. Jungkook smiled faintly at Hoseok, who looked at him pitiful and he quickly began to place the food and can down where Yoongi could still take it if he wanted to. It was too chaotic on deck for him, a perfect mirror for the turmoil of feelings inside of himself. Jungkook barely had managed to get up when a wave hit the ship. The tea sloshed out of the can first and then the rest of what was left hit the planks together with the high sound of porcelain shattering. Yoongi cursed before he even saw where it had come from or what had happened. “Which of you fuckwads was stupid enough to leave dishes on deck? If anyone gets cut and bleeds out I’ll make the idiot who’s responsible for that share that fate! Clean it…” He broke off, when it hit a little too late that Jungkook’s had dishes with him when he had come on deck to bring him tea and bread. He turned and there he was, standing close to the white, sharp shards that were scattered all across the planks and tumbled even further every time the ship moved a little too roughly.

Jungkook’s eyes were wide and he looked back at Yoongi for a second, eyes fearful and then he quickly got onto his knees and began collecting the shards. He pulled his shirt out of his pants to form a little hollow to put the shards in, mumbling a few apologies. He didn’t really notice when he cut himself on a shard, trying to catch it before it flew further away from him as they sailed through the tides. The younger tried not to show how embarrassed he felt, but the laughing and pointing of the crew members around him made him feel awful. “It was your little siren, captain.” One of them said, holding their stomach as if they couldn’t contain their laughter. “Not as graceful as we thought.”

Jungkook quickly grabbed the can, mumbling something about how he would get something to clean it up further, as he balanced the shards and everything else, trying not to stumble. He was so concentrated on not letting any of the pieces fall from his grip that he didn’t notice when one of the Pirates tripped him up. Yoongi didn’t see that from his point of view, however he saw Jungkook lose his balance and fall forward, effectively throwing everything he had collected all over the place. More laughing from the pirates and curses from Yoongi washed over the siren who looked as if he had fallen into a few of the sharp, broken pieces himself.

Jungkook cried out in sudden pain, carefully bringing his palms back up to see the damage. He was shaking with the anger, blood dripping down his hands. Jungkook hated this day already and the crew was adamant on making it worse. In his vibrating anger, the siren didn’t notice how the waves were starting to tremble too, as if the ocean was mimicking his emotions. He snapped around, his eyes narrowed as his gaze bored through the laughing crew members when a wave hit overboard and drowned the pirates with it. Jungkook’s eyes widened in shock when all three of them tumbled over, now soaking wet, coughing for air. Jungkook gasped, when the tension fell off him, just like the wave ebbed back into the ocean. He had never done such a thing before and for a second he was completely stunned.

Yoongi had tried to get to Jungkook to check up on him but he wasn’t in time to stop him from working his water magic or spell or whatever it was that he was doing. It definitely helped with the laughing because there was dead silence the second they all realized that the sudden wave came from Jungkook, then there was murmuring, like an angry swarm of hornets. Out of the corner of his eyes Yoongi could see one of the pirates draw his blade and instead of carefully helping Jungkook up like he had wanted he gripped him painfully on his arm to pull him up right away. “Get up!” He hissed, dragging the younger along with him under deck.

“I didn’t mean to! I swear!” Jungkook was trying to explain right away, his heart beating into overdrive out of sheer panic that Yoongi would imprison him again, “I’ve never done such a thing before. I was angry…they hurt me, they made me fall into the shards on purpose.” Jungkook whined quietly, stumbling after Yoongi whose grip only turned more painful. “I swear, please…please don’t hurt me,” Jungkook shivered, feeling light-headed and when Yoongi stopped, he tried to turn his head, closing his eyes, waiting for the blow to hit. Yoongi held him tightly on both his arms now, turning him around so that the younger’s back hit the wall behind him, “Do you have any idea what you just did?” His voice was icy and his eyes just as cold as he stared him down.

“I’m trying to protect you! And the first time I let you be on your own, thinking that you might handle this you fucking ruin it! You’re risking not just your life but mine as well! What do you think they’ll do when they come for you and I’m trying to protect you, hm? That their captain is a reasonable human being and so they should listen to him even though he’s keeping an “evil sea creature” from them? Or that said creature bewitched him and so both of them have to die? Do you really want to drag me down with you so badly Jungkook? Is that it? Do you want to die?”

“I’m not evil! You know I’m not,” Tears stung in Jungkook’s eyes as he shook his head, “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know I could do that…and I didn’t hurt them…they hurt me! You’re hurting me, Yoongi!” Jungkook tried to pull his arms away, his palms still bleeding. “I don’t want to die.” He shook his head, tears running down his cheeks as he sobbed, “Please…Yoongi, please don’t.”

Watching Jungkook cry in front of him made his anger vanish so that only the worry and fear were left, and his own words left a bitter taste in his mouth. He didn’t let go of him, but he loosened his grip a little. He was no longer yelling at him, but he still couldn’t look at him without the emotions washing over him, so he simply didn’t. Instead he just took him back to the cabin and sat him down. “Show me your hands.” There was still blood all over and Yoongi wasn’t sure if he might make it worse trying to clean it because that would definitely hurt. “You’ll heal, right?”

Jungkook’s eyes widened at that, pulling his hands back in fear, scared that Yoongi would punish him now. It wasn’t the first time someone would, because he hadn’t been able to control his abilities. People always feared the unknown and as soon as they found out that he healed quickly it had turned into a wicked game. Jungkook felt defeated, his heart aching painfully. “Just get it over with, please.” He looked up at the cabin with tear-filled eyes, his hands shaking, whole body shivering in fear.

The pirate nodded; his expression grim as he misread Jungkook’s reaction as a request to care for the wound despite the possible pain. “It’s going to hurt,” He warned him before getting a clean piece of cloth and the bottle of alcohol that he had used to disinfect the cut on his leg as well. Carefully he took Jungkook’s hand in his before wetting the cloth with booze and then dabbing the blood and dirt away from the younger’s wounds. A gasp fell from his lips when Yoongi didn’t hit him, but instead went for his hands. His gaze was unsure as he watched the pirate care for him. “Y-you’re not beating me up?” Jungkook asked carefully, regretting that he had asked right away. Maybe the captain would still do it.

Yoongi furrowed his brows. “I will next time you risk your life like that!” He dropped his gaze again, voice becoming softer. His crew members knew when to take his threats seriously and when to dismiss them. Jungkook however, didn’t. And considering what he had just expected him to do he would probably believe him now as well so he should better make it right before Jungkook would go back to being frightened and scared of him. “No. I won’t. The reason I’m that harsh to you is that I don’t want you to get hurt. I need you. For… for the treasure I mean. I can’t let anything happen to you. You just got me really, really scared up there. Because each time you remind them that you’re not human I feel like I need to prepare against a mutiny and…honestly I’m not sure if I’d stand a chance to protect any of us.” He gently caressed the back of the siren’s hand, the only part of it that wasn’t injured. “So please, do me a favor and lay low with your powers, okay? I’m sorry I yelled at you up there. It’s... complicated. We’re in dangerous waters and there’s a million ways thing could go wrong so I have to think about a million and one things, if you know what I mean.”

“O-okay,” Jungkook blinked a few tears away, wiping over his cheek. “I really didn’t mean to. Believe me, I didn’t know I could do this. I don’t know what happened…I was just so angry.” He took a deep shuddery breath, “I…I…won’t do anything anymore. I promise. I’ll be human!” Jungkook smiled at Yoongi faintly and obviously exhausted from the breakdown, “Just human. I am sorry I made such a fuss.”

Jungkook would have promised Yoongi anything right now, visibly relieved that he hadn’t hurt him. When Yoongi still locked the door behind him, Jungkook didn’t even jerk. He knew that in a way it was just to protect him, from keeping anyone from barging in. Tiredly the young siren let himself fall back into the mattress. He stayed like this for the rest of the day, too exhausted, not even touching the food Yoongi brought him throughout the day.

Jungkook had never been good at deciphering his feelings. As a siren, his empathic nature had always caused him trouble and finding out what he truly wanted was a struggle. When he laid on the bed alone, staring off into the distance, memories kept haunting him. It took a while until the exhaustion pulled him under and into a light sleep, only jerking awake again when Yoongi came back. The thoughts had been keeping him conscious that night, listening to the soft snores right next to him, while his eyes were wide open. He felt alone, awfully alone, holding onto himself a little tighter. Jungkook was shivering, feeling cold and exhausted and still he couldn’t sleep. Not like this. He needed to clear his head, maybe get back to bed then or wait to see the sun set outside. The crew had anchored the ship after they made it through the dangerous tides, everyone visibly exhausted and needing the night to fuel their energy levels back up. Jungkook made it out of bed quietly, closing the cabin door behind him without a creak. He grabbed one of the lanterns and a small blanket on his way up. When he was up on deck though, the young siren came to a halt, standing in complete awe. Jungkook couldn’t see a thing - because there was fog everywhere. He could barely make out his own hand. The vapor devoured it all and it seemed as though the ship was the only thing left in the world. He couldn’t even make out the ocean. All was quiet apart from the soft sound of the waves, the silence magnifying the noise of the sea lapping against the sides. But there was something different about the fog. Something that made his stomach churn. It was like the ocean was telling him to be careful.

Jungkook held on tightly to his lamp, walking ahead, narrowing his eyes to see through the fog. Something had caught his eye. He shook his head, rubbing his eyes again, thinking that they were playing tricks on him. Putting his lantern down, Jungkook leaned over the rail of the ship so he could see better.

There was another ship.

A bit further away from theirs. He could see it now. A chill ran through his body and a weird feeling inside his stomach made him want to run but the curiosity kept him still. A sudden loud crashing noise next to him had Jungkook jerking around, his heart beating fast. His lantern had fallen, the glass splintering into a million pieces, the candle extinct – he hadn’t touched it. Jungkook’s eyes were searching in the dark, trying to keep his breathing under control. Something felt awfully wrong.

“Y-Yoongi?” Jungkook stumbled ahead and through the fog, the urge to be back under deck and slip under the blanket was overwhelming now while he was internally pleading for the morning sun to rise quickly. When he neared the door, Jungkook stopped abruptly. His eyes flickered back and forth. There was a women blocking his way. Her dirty smirk only enhancing her haunting aura.

“Well, well.. aren’t you quite the catch..” She sounded excited but completely relaxed as if her being on the ship was completely normal. Before Jungkook could react she gripped him at the shoulder and turned him around until his back was pressed against her chest and she could wrap her arms around him completely, one hand closing over his mouth to keep him from making a sound, the other one reaching for her weapon to threaten the siren with. “Be smart, little boy. No sound or else you’ll have a few more holes than you need.” She whispered, still sounding more amused than threatening as she casually spoke about killing him.

Jungkook was panting against the hand over his mouth, his eyes searching through the fog as more and more women stepped out until he was circled by six of them. “He isn’t one of them,” One of them said, brushing through her short dark hair.

“But then why is he here, Dami? Black never takes strangers on his ship - especially not ones that can roam around freely like this?” A woman with long blonde hair answered and came closer, eyeing Jungkook dangerously, before she pulled off a piece of cloth from her belt and they quickly exchanged it for the hand, so Jungkook kept quiet, stuffing it into his mouth, “Black hasn’t visited us in a long time… how nice of him to bring us a gift….well, then we’re allowed to do whatever with you, right?” She leaned in so close that Jungkook shivered.  

“Absolutely!” The one who held him chuckled, brushing back Jungkook’s hair as if she was caring for him or assessing his worth. “I could think of a thing or two to do with him. Look at him, he’s so pretty! Either Black developed taste all of a sudden or there’s more behind those big brown eyes than we see. He’d look amazing in the captain's cabin on her silk sheets, don’t you think?”

“Oh yes, he would,” The leader walked up to Jungkook and his eyes widened in panic, trying to get away from her but the women were strong, keeping him in place firmly. Her bright red hair flowing in the wind. “Bring him onto my ship and then…rob this awful place. Take everything you can get and try not to wake the sleepy boys. But make sure he knows we’ve been there,” Jiu laughed. She walked a few steps, pushing her heel onto a seemingly lifeless body, that Jungkook only registered now, and lifting the poor pirates chin, who apparently has had the night shift and had to take a hit on the head, blood oozing down over his brows. Jungkook tried to scream, panicking, writhing to get out of their grip.

He wouldn’t survive another kidnapping.

They carried him easily, tying his hands up with one of the ship’s ropes until he was practically a package, one carrying his feet and another one his upper body. They hoisted him over the railing and then let him fall and for a second Jungkook was falling downwards, thinking that he was about to be dropped in the ocean to drown - before his body hit the ship’s tender boat with a dull thump. There was another woman waiting there, flinching when he landed hard on the place next to her and keeping him from falling off the side out of reflex. “Oh, hello you. I see our pilferage was worth it already. You’ll come with us?” She looked at the way he was gagged, chuckling to herself, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to answer anytime soon. “I guess so. Welcome on board then little one.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but cry out of frustration and fear. He couldn’t believe this what happening. Not now, not like this. He was begging and pleading inwardly, praying to whatever god there was to get him out of his misery. Jungkook had wanted to apologize to Yoongi again, promise him to be good and not use any of his powers anymore. He just wanted to stay with him. Everything in him just screamed to be back on the ship. Jungkook’s eyes widened in sudden realization, his heart skipping a few beats as the ship went further out of his reach.

He wanted to stay with Yoongi, be by his side, be liked by the crew members. He wanted to be seen as someone who could be at the captain’s side and not just the clumsy, frightened siren. Gulping against the lump in his throat, Jungkook began to struggle against his restraints.

He liked Yoongi.

And no matter how mean the pirate could be and although it didn’t make much sense to his own heart, the young siren wanted to be with him. Tears filled his eyes and the sounds of the women robbing the ship carelessly and the crashing of the ocean waves against the boat was the only thing he could hear.

A/N: I posted this a day earlier than usual as I am going on a small vacation the next three days. So instead of a break you’ll get the new chapter now! Thank you so much for the lovely support we have gotten for this story so far!!! It really means a lot to Cat and I! And yes, surprise ;) It’s Dreamcatcher coming to kidnap Jungkook <3 (I mean who wouldnt want to get kidnapped by those beautiful women). If you don’t know who Dreamcatcher is...what have you been doing?

Subscribed: @gguksbam @bngtnsnyndn-ily @whatarelarryfeels @jeonsdear @starlightstae @p-ixelite @lissachan504 @wise-bts-collector @nochuukookie @h-e-l-p-m-e-p-l-e-a-s-e00 @hisheartsmile @lxnehxre @violetrose120 @fusselkuchen @gelsavitichi @minsugasnerd @yoonqiful @thenameoftherain @jjkscnery @tobi-love @banaani-mins @writeasifwordsarepaintbrushes @it-is-dana @nomimits7 @laur-zipan @mytokyos @ksjinandtonic@eenabannana  @mintynicotine@vannilacake @persephonelovesbts @maryana-san @ultmay @the-magic-shoppe  @shineenimus @triviajeongin @cabaasch @vannilacake @cecechiro

↳ If you want to be tagged in new updates you can now sign up in my subscription list here

[littlesupernaturalwords]

Run And Don't Look Back Chapter Eight

Summary: Running from her past she finally settles down in a new town. But as it turns out, helping the wrong person will throw her even deeper in the life than she had ever been before.

Word count: 4 171

Warnings: angst, arguing, anxiety, MOC!Dean

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Jane watched in silence as Dean prepared their breakfast. He had his back to her, but she could still clearly hear the soft melody he was humming. That made her smile a little; he was a true hunter and she could see it just from his hard demeanor, but he had a soft side, a side which he had showed her and kept showing her like an old friend. It was strange. He didn't know her and yet he and Sam took care of her like she was a part of their family.

"If you wanna keep staring, you should probably say something," Dean said suddenly. "Or it's just creepy." Jane blushed and quickly ducked her head. She hadn't realised that Dean turned around and noticed her gaze, too caught up in her thoughts. Dean shook his head with a smile and brought their plates to the table before sitting down.

Jane's eyes widened at the sight of the plate in front of her. "You don't expect me to eat all of it, do you?" she asked.

Dean laughed. "Suit yourself," he told her and stuffed his mouth with a piece of bacon.

Jane took a fork in her hand. The eggs were incredible; not too salty, moist, but not too much, and she finally had to admit that the sandwich Sam had made her was, well, less than average. Not that she would have apreciated anything at that moment in her emotionless state. Jane hadn't even realised how hungry she actually was and was suddenly glad for the large portion. They ate in silence, occasional glances their only interaction through the meal. Jane didn't mind; despite their little disagreement in the Library, Dean had been nothing but nice to her, taking care of her like they were long time hunting pals and the silence was comfortable. She stole another glance at him. Dean reached for his mug and let out an annoyed groan when he didn't find it at its normal place, the coffee forgotten in the library.

They finished at nearly the same time, Dean with a satisfied sigh. Jane chuckled and shook her head at the sight.

"What?" Dean asked, his eyebrows raised.

Jane shook her head again. "Nothing, just-" A smile overtook her features. "You remind me of my brother," she said softly, the smile not leaving her face.

Dean tilted his head slightly. "You have a brother?" he asked in surprise. Jane didn't blame him, she hadn't told them much about herself. Nothing, to be exact. But she owed them and didn't feel like she had to hide things from them anymore, at least not everything.

Her smile faded with her next words. "Had," she answered, lowering her eyes. The memories she had made with him never made her sad, but the acknowledgement that he was gone always made the old grief come back.

Dean let out a sharp breath. "Sorry about that," he said sincerely as a shadow covered his features. She knew that look. The look that belonged only to someone who had lost a loved one. And from how hard is expression got she guessed it wasn't just once. Jane remembered the shadow that had covered his eyes after they had finished dinner the day before; the pain of losing someone and the regret that comes with it. She felt her chest tightening as well as her heartbeat quickening as anxiety washed over her again. She took a long deep breath and didn't stop even once sharp pain from her broken ribs shot through her; she didn't know what made her so anxious, but it didn't matter. Whether it was the mention of her brother or just the events of the morning setting in, she had to calm down. The last thing she needed was to have a panic attack in front of Dean.

"So," Jane said to distract herself, her voice a little shaky. Dean raised his eyes to her face, the dark look gone. "What are you planning? A case maybe, or some research...?" she asked innocently.

Dean let out a barely audible chuckle as a slight smile appeared on his face. "I don't do research, Sweatheart," he told her.

Jane smiled at that. "Okay, I can relate to that." The pressure on her chest lessened, but she could still feel her heart beating rapidly.

"And we won't go hunting until you're healed," he continued seriously, his smile disappearing completely.

Her face mirrored his as frustration took over, replacing her anxiety. "Dean, I'm-"

"No, you're not fine," he interrupted her. Jane fought the urge to roll the eyes, but still let out a deep sigh. When was he going to stop treating her like she was completely broken? He was being unreasonably stubborn and she was not just going to obey everything he said; they might had saved her, but she wasn't a child. "Show me your arms," Dean said suddenly, pulling her from her heated thoughts.

"What?" Jane asked with furrowed brows. She could clearly hear her heartbeat in her ears as she pressed her lips to a thin line. But it was neither anxiety nor frustration which led to that - it was anger. That kind of anger that made andrenaline take over to prepare for a fight.

"Show me your arms," Dean repeated, firmer this time, and extended his hand towards her. Jane had no idea what he wanted, and bit back her tongue not to shout at him. She obeyed, stretching her arms in front of her. Dean took hold of her wrist and gently rolled up her sleeve. Jane hissed in pain as the fabric moved across the cuts and burns, but stayed still, not willing to prove whatever point he wanted to make. Dean did the same with her other arm and lowered her hands on the table. Jane let out a barely audible sigh; she hadn't realised how much energy it had cost her to keep them up with how weak her muscles were. She let her eyes wonder over her injuries and felt her anger disappear. They weren't serious, but it would take time for her to heal and she was well aware of it, just Dean was. Memories of her arms strapped to a chair, bleeding, flashed in front of her eyes. She tore her gaze from her limbs and looked at Dean again.

He had been watching her face, seeing how her features changed once she'd seen her bare arms. She no longer clenched her jaw and her shoulders lowered slightly. He didn't like that he had reminded her of what she had endured, but he also realised how stubborn she was; she needed to see it for herself.

"Once your arms heal, you'll get the walking sticks back," he said, leaving no room for argument, "but not before that, you understand?"

Jane clenched her teeth in frustration again. Dean was right, partly, but her stubbornness didn't want to let her just admit that. Who did he think he was to just order her like that?

"Jane," he adressed her firmly. Her eyes snapped up to his face. His features were hard and she thought that it should have scared her, but it didn't. No, it gave her a sence of comfort; Dean looked so much like her brother. He had always been furious when she had been hurt, but the anger hadn't been towards her. He had only wanted to protect her. And in the moment she realised that, she knew this argument was a losing battle.

"Fine," she said at last, anger leaving her completely. She hadn't noticed that her heart was beating slower or that her limbs had become heavier, but the weight of it dropped on her like a blanket.

"Which means you're stuck with us for a while," Dean commented. Jane only hummed in reply, suppressing a yawn. Dean didn't seem to be more happy about it than her, she realised when she noticed his tone. He was looking at her arms with a sad expression, the shadow covering his face once more. Jane quickly pulled her sleeves down and drew her hands back. She let out a long breath to take hold of her emotions before speaking again. She was tired, her whole body growing heavy, but pushed it aside.

"You may as well show me the rest of the Bunker then," Jane said, sounding more irritated than she'd ment to, but at least she caught Dean's attention. She forced herself to smile at least a little. "As you said, I'm gonna be stuck with you for a while."

They shared a long look. Jane found herself smiling more, relaxing under his gaze. He cared about her and it wasn't just because she was a damsel in distress, just as she began to care about him. She felt every injury on her body ache and throb, but it didn't matter at the moment; she was with Dean and everything would be okay.

Jane was sitting on a wooden box in the Garage, watching as Dean washed his car. Or his 'Baby' as he had referred to it. Her earlier faintness had left her during the time Dean had been showing her around the Bunker, but she still felt how tight her skin was, the scabs threatening to open by any wrong movement. Her right knee throbbed and ached even though she had readjusted it in the brace, leaving her shifting in her seat, trying to find a comfortable position. She didn't really register what Dean was doing, too lost in her thoughts. Her lack of information was like a parasite, slowly eating her alive until there was nothing left. She shifted on the box again.

"Dean?" Jane spoke after long minutes of silence. Dean raised his head to look at her and hummed in response, not stopping whatever he was doing on the car.

Jane swallowed, trying to sort her thoughts. "What happens with Heaven now that the angels are all on Earth?" she asked. It had been worrying her for months, but she had never gotten anywhere near answering the question and only became more worried. Dean wiped his hands with a cloth, walking around the car. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt down and tossed the cloth to the side without giving it a second look, his eyes on Jane.

"You sure you wanna know that?" he asked her. His face was unreadable.

Jane's forehead wrinkled with confusion. "Why shouldn't I?" She felt her own heartbeat quickening, but paid it no mind.

Dean leaned on the Impala with his back and crossed his arms on his chest. "Like you said yesterday, we're always in the centre of things. Maybe you shouldn't get involved in this." He clenched his teeth, his lips pressed together tightly.

Jane found herself opening her mouth while no sound came out before she got herself together. "Dean," she said firmly, hoping he would know she was being honest, "what I said last night, I- I was scared," she admitted. "After what Crowley did to me..." Jane took a deep breath, forcing herself to distance from the memories. She looked into his eyes. "But that doesn't mean I shouldn't get involved." Dean opened his mouth to say something, but Jane didn't let him. "I know I have no idea what I'm getting myself into. But I grew up in this life. An- and as long as angels are down here, people are in danger. More danger than usual. So yes, I want to know that. I need to know it," she finished, slightly out of breath. Her heart was pounding and her hands were shaking, but she didn't once break the stare with him. Dean sighed with a shake of his head. He was not happy with her response and it was clearly visible as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Not all angels are on Earth," Dean said after a moment. Jane furrowed her brows and leaned slightly forward in anticipation. "The duchebag that made all this mess named himself the new God." He continued in a stronger voice. "He's recruiting angels, making an army of them. There's a portal upstairs, but it keeps moving around."

"So you never know where it is," Jane said absent-mindedly, her eyes down. She raised her head. "So who was it then? What's his name?"

"Metatron, the-"

"The Scribe of God," Jane finished for him, her forehead wrinkled.

Dean nodded. "Yeah."

"But- but what about the other angels, the ones that didn't join him?" she blurted out. Dean raised his eyebrows. "I- I mean, not all angels allied with him, right? Why would they join the person who made them fall in the first place?" Jane spoke quickly, trying to get out all of her thoughts before anxiety took over her again. She could already feel it rising in her chest.

"Yeah, well, they're trying to get back up, but-" Dean shook his head. "This is about all they know right now."

Jane's eyes widened. "What?" she bursted out. "So they know who did it and know that there is a way back to Heaven, but that's it?"

"It's not like they're not trying," Dean said, slightly taken aback by her sudden outburts. Jane shifted in her seat and bit back a hiss of pain. "We know Metatron has an inside man in the other camp, but- yeah, that's it."

"And what about your angel friend?" Jane asked. Dean raised his eyebrows. "Sam told me about him last night," she explained. It wasn't that she wanted to meet him, quite the opposite; she tried to stay as far from all angels as possible.

Dean took a deep breath. "Well, I don't know what he told you, but Cas is doing everything he can to take the son of a bitch down," he said. She nodded in understanding. Cas. Somehow, knowing his name made her feel worse; it made the whole situation more real. For a few heartbeats, silence fell on them.

Jane took a deep breath, barely noticing the pain from her broken ribs anymore. "So," she said softly, taking hold of her emotions, "what do we do now?" The sooner this whole mess was over the better for everyone.

Dean straightened up and slowly walked towards her. "We'll figure it out," he said, "but you stay out of this."

"Dean-"

"No," he stopped her and shook his head. "This isn't something I'm gonna argue with you about, Jane. You will stay out of this." His tone was firm, not leaving any place for debate. Jane's eyes drifted between his own. He was now standing right in front of her, towering over her and making her feel even smaller than usual. Her anxiety grew as her throat tightened. Something wasn't right.

"Why are you so protective of me?" Jane asked, her voice barely above whisper.

Dean didn't answer. He only crouched down and slid his hands under her to pick her up. Jane let him, biting back her tongue so she wouldn't cry out in pain, but kept her eyes on his face. He didn't look at her once, not even when he set her down in the Library with Sam and walked away without a word.

Dean stayed in his room for the rest of the day. He kept himself busy: he made his bed, cleaned and oiled his guns and even made the laundry. But no matter what he did, his thoughts always came back to her words.

Why are you so protective of me?

She was clever, Dean had to admit that, but also stubborn. And not the good type. That kind of stubborn that was going to get her killed.

Dean sighed and ran a hand over his face. Every time he closed his eyes he saw her small form how they had first found her. He saw how bloody she was, beaten up, her whole body covered in a sheen of sweat as she burned up with fever. He saw her head hung down on her chest, her normally shiny red hair oily and tangled, sticking to her wet skin. And then he saw the screw in her knee and utter rage took over him.

They should have killed Crowley. He should have killed him when he had had the chance. He would have sliced him, stabbed him, drawing out the pain, enjoying it, until he would have finally sank the First Blade in his heart and watched how life left him, the light in his eyes disappearing. But he hadn't and now Jane was dragged into this whole mess because of him.

He gripped the bottle he was holding tighter. He wanted to kill. He wanted to go out and savour the moments. No, he needed to. His hands started shaking. He needed to see the blood pouring out of their bodies, until nothing but cold corpse remained. He needed to feel their bones snapping in his hands. He needed to hear their breath hitching as he choked life out of them. He needed-

The bottle in his hand cracked, his fingers closing into a tight fist with the momentum. Dean shuddered before looking down. The bottle he had been holding was on the floor, shattered into pieces, the leftover beer spilled between them. There was blood dripping from his hand. He opened his fist and a few small sharp pieces of glass fell down. Dean flinched as he picked out all the shards from his flesh. He didn't bother with bandages or desinfection, only washed his hands with cold water and watched as blood slowly left his fingers until the water ran clean.

There was noise in the hallway. Dean slowly crossed the room and opened the door slightly, just so he could see outside. He watched as Sam opened the door to Jane's room and picked up something from the floor. It glistened when light from the hallway landed on it and Dean immediately recognised it as a blade. No, an angel blade. Dean didn't wait to see any more and silently slipped from his room. Sam didn't notice as Dean soundlessly passed Jane's room and headed for the Library. He just wanted to see her, wanted to make sure she was okay. At least that's what he told himself as he absent-mindedly scratched the Mark on his arm.

He spotted her right after he came through the door. She was sitting at one of the tables with her head laid down on an opened book. Her arms were on the table, stretched in front of her, the long sleeves of the hoodie covering her hands and he could only make out the tips of her fingers, clenching the fabric gently. She hadn't changed from her boy shorts she had slept in last night and Dean could see goosebumps appearing on her bare legs.

He came to her and brushed a few loose strands of hair out of her face, the rest of her hair braided. She looked peaceful. Her face was relaxed, her lips slightly appart, the bruises slowly fading into a barely visible yellow colour. A sound made his head turn towards the door.

Sam stood in the doorway, yawning. "Hey," he greeted his older brother quietly, "I didn't know you were up," Sam said and yawned again, running a hand across his face.

"I'm gonna take her to bed," Dean said.

"Yeah, um, I was just gonna-" Sam started, but yawned again.

Dean smiled. "It's okay, Sammy, I've got her," he said. "Go to bed."

Sam nodded and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, yeah, I'll do that," he muttered before turning around. "G'night, Dean."

"Night, Sammy," Dean called after him. He waited until he heard door closing in the distance before he crouched down to pick her. He set her hands in her lap and frowned when he noticed what she had been reading; angel lore books were one thing, but reading them after the conversation they'd had made him feel uneasy. He would have another talk with her in the morning. Dean slid his hands under her small body and picked her up, pressing her to his chest.

Jane moaned in her sleep and Dean thought she would wake up, but she only snuggled closer to him, her fingers curling in his shirt. He stayed still for a moment, making sure she was still asleep before he carried her to her room and gently laid her down on the bed. He covered her with blanket. There was an angel blade on her night stand, but Dean knew better than to move it; he himself slept with a gun under his pillow.

Jane stirred and her eyebrows furrowed as she let out a quiet whimper. Dean knew what she was going through. He knew all about nightmares and memories keeping him from sleeping. But he couldn't protect her from that, no matter how hard he wanted.

But he could protect her from what she was slowly but surely trying to get herself into and he was going to stop her even if it ment tying her up in the dungeon.

Dean softly laid a kiss on her forehead.

He wouldn't let another kid die. Not on his watch. Not again.

The hallways of the Bunker were empty, bathing in comforting warm light. Jane was standing in front the doorway to the library, the room seemingly empty. She looked down at herself and frowned; there was not a single scratch on her skin, her body back to its healthy weight and her skinny jeans and black button up recognizably hers.

She was having another dream, another vision.

Jane took a small step into the room, then another. The Library was filled with the same warm light as the hall, but she paid it little attention; there had to be a reason why she was seeing this, but there was nobody else in the room with her.

"Sam!" she heard Dean shout from the War room. Jane quickly crossed the Library and came to a stop on top of the three stairs leading to the other room. Dean was there, a mug of coffee in his hand. He was wearing an ugly gray robe and Jane would have laughed at him for it if they were in a different situation, but let it slide. He looked around the room and took a few steps towards her, searching the Library with his eyes. "You here?" Dean shouted in search for his brother.

As if on cue, the main door to the Bunker opened. They both shot their heads up and saw Sam coming through the door.

"Hey," Sam greeted his older brother, "good morning." He was carrying something in his hands as he moved down, but Jane couldn't see what it was through the railing.

Dean looked at his watch. "You've been outside already?" he asked in disbelief just as Sam came down. Jane moved closer to them, her footsteps echoed around the room, but neither of them seemed to notice.

Sam walked closer to Dean with a white box in his hand. "Yeah," he breathed with a smile. "Woke up, went for a run – beautiful sunrise," Sam said and Jane giggled when she saw the face Dean made. "Anyways, cleaned up, went and got breakfast-" he raised the box he was holding, "- grabbed you real bacon and eggs, extra grease." He put the box on the table. "Not even gonna argue"

"Mm, perfect," Dean hummed in appreciation and sat down. Sam took off his jacket, tossing it on a seat next to him, and followed suit. Jane smiled at the relaxed atmosphere of the ordinary morning. "Wait," Dean said suddenly, his whole body tensing. "You went running?"

"What?" Sam asked with a sly smile. "Why do you look so worried?"

"Let's see," Dean answered, slightly irritated. "There's Cas, who I told to haul ass here. That was days ago. He's still out there." He paused for a second, looking down. "Um, there's you."

"Me?" Sam's eyebrows shot up. "I feel great."

"I'm sure you do," Dean replied quickly, "but, Sam, you went through the Trials." Sam let out a low unamused chuckle and scratched the back of his head.

"Trials?" Jane whispered to herself. So he wasn't so overprotective only of her but of his brother too. She didn't know whether she should find that comforting or not. Dean continued as if he hadn't heard her.

"Okay, that put a big strain on you. I just think it's better if you took it easy," Sam's eyes flashed blue and Jane could swear she felt her heart stop, "you know, and didn't act like you were-"

"Possessed by an angel," Sam finished for him. But he didn't sound like Sam. He straightened up to his full height, his face showing no emotion.

Dean whipped his head to look at his brother, but didn't seem surprised. Jane's gaze drifted between the two men, her heart beating rapidly in her chest, before the scene started to fade.

Colours blent together, swirling round her, becoming darker and darker until blackness swallowed her whole.

[ohmytheon]

Killer Queen (Rebelcaptain, 3)

I’m alive and so is this fic. Naturally, when I start to feeling a little better, the first thing I do is finish a chapter for a fanfic. I needed a pick me up. Granted, it’s probably not my best work since I’m still suffering from mild dehydration, but it’s longer than expected. Here’s some plot – and then an excuse to build on the UST because I’m weak. Literally. I had a dress picked out, but then my computer went haywire and I lost it. Blah.

Summary: When the FBI gets a tip that someone is planning to sabotage the Miss America Pageant, Special Agent Cassian Andor finally gets the chance to run his first op. And the problem? The only agent capable of pulling off the undercover aspect of the op is his less than enthusiastic, moody, aggressive partner, Special Agent Jyn Erso. Even worse? While she’s struggling with the terror of high heels, dresses, beautiful women, and a severe lack of carbs, he’s coming to a few very unexpected realizations about the woman that he’s been working alongside for years.

killer queen chapter three

Right off the bat, Cassian could tell that Jyn was more at ease in this element. She’d managed to slip away from the other contestants so that they could go over what they’d gathered so far. With Imwe and Malbus out of sight, she could be an FBI agent again or at least closest to herself as possible. There was no dress in sight. This late at night, she was in shorts and a tank top, the thin bathrobe she’d worn earlier discarded on the bed. No makeup, though he could tell that she’d moisturized as Imwe instructed, and her hair was loose and still wet from a shower.

She looked very much like the Jyn Erso he’d worked with for years and yet somehow different as well. He couldn’t put a finger on it and that bothered him. Her personality certainly hadn’t changed. If anything, it had become even edgier since this op had started. So what was it?

When he’d brought out a package of oreos for her, he had been concerned that she might cry – and then he was scared that she’d choke with the way that she was inhaling them. On more than one occasion had she paused to revel in them, closing her eyes, sighing, and actually smiling.

“They’re just cookies, Jyn,” he pointed out with a grin.

“No, this is what heaven tastes like,” Jyn insisted. “I’ve missed these glorious, empty calories.”

“Just don’t rat me out to Imwe or I’ll never hear the end of it,” Cassian told her.

Jyn clutched the cookies to her chest and mock-gasped. “And ruin this cookie smuggling operation? Never.”

He had not forgotten how much she treasured her sweets. Whenever they had gone on stakeouts, she had been notorious about packing all the sugary snacks. He tried to be healthy for the most part, opting for salty when he strayed, but not his partner. She acted as if she’d been denied sweets her entire childhood and was trying to make up for it as an adult.

Setting the cookies aside, Jyn began to pick through the notes that they’d gathered during the past few weeks. One thing was for certain: while she was a mess in most of her life, she was very attentive to details during missions. He had known that she wouldn’t let him down. While pissed off about the whole ordeal, she was going the extra mile. He couldn’t help but think that it was because this was his first time running the op. They may have argued and had their fair share of contradicting work ethics, but they worked very well together. He’d seen partnerships go down in flames before, but theirs had been strong almost from the get go.

She might want to punch him for what he’d asked of her, but she wasn’t going to let that affect the mission.

“So the first suspect is your new friend and roommate,” Cassian announced.

“Leia?” Jyn shook her head. “I mean, I know she’s determined to win, but I think killing the competition is a little over the top.”

“Her history says ‘a little over the top’ is just her style,” Cassian said as he handed over a file to her.

While she had been busy with the undercover aspect of the mission, he’d been compiling background information on everyone involved in the beauty pageant, including the contestants. They couldn’t be sure who was behind the bomb threat. If they could get a plant in this competition, who was to say someone else couldn’t? The fact that she was around a dangerous person at all times without any idea of who it was sat uncomfortably with him. Whenever he went undercover, he knew who the dangerous people were: all of them.

Better the danger you know than the danger you don’t.

Jyn’s eyebrows raised. “This is…unexpected.”

“Yeah, normally, the kind of dirt on a senator’s daughter would be partying or maybe possession,” Cassian replied, “but Miss New York has a history of some very serious protesting.”

“How has this not been caught before?” Jyn asked as she sorted through the pictures.

“Well, for the most part, she’s very open about her involvement,” Cassian explained. “She’s very passionate about these things and uses her name and face to get the word out. She’s careful, too. Shows her face at all these events, gives multiple speeches, great sound clips and quotes.” He paused her search through the file to pinpoint a few things. “She’s a little more…undercover for the riskier events.”

“You think this is her?” Jyn asked, pointing to a figure in one picture. The person was darting through tear gas wearing a bandana, hat, and sunglasses. It could’ve been Jyn herself for all it looked.

“She’s good,” Cassian admitted, “but I’d like to think I’m better.” Jyn whistled and then continued perusing the pictures, locking in on the figures circled in each one. “No one was seriously hurt in these endeavours, but people were arrested and questioned. They’re a loyal crowd though. Nothing was pointed at her.”

Jyn snorted. “Well, I guess this is one way at achieving world peace.”

“We’re also looking at the MC,” Cassian continued.

“Ugh, good, now there’s a suspect I can get behind,” Jyn said as she took the new file from him. “The man’s a sleeze. He’s outdated, pompous, and thinks he’s the star of the show.”

“And yet I bet he doesn’t look half as good in a bikini as you,” Cassian quipped.

Jyn’s eyes flickered up to his briefly, but she didn’t say anything before returning to the file. To be honest, he was kind of grateful. He had no idea why that had come out of his mouth. Normally, he was excellent at thinking before saying things, seeing as how it was sometimes a life or death situation, but that had come out of nowhere. Even worse, now he was left thinking of what Jyn did look like in a bikini. The swimsuit part of the competition was coming up. He supposed he’d find out. Not that it mattered or anything. She looked good now.

“They’re firing him?” Jyn looked up. “He told everyone that he was retiring after this year’s pageant.”

“There have been a few complaints lodged against him that he can’t dodge anymore.” Cassian wiped at the bottom of his face. He’d need to shave soon. He just always forgot. “It’s been kept very hush-hush so lawyers aren’t brought in, but he’s kicking up a fuss and made a few threatening comments.”

“Let me guess,” Jyn drawled. “The show can’t go on without him? He created this? It’s his baby? I know he’s been attached to this for longer than we’ve been alive, but do you think he’d kill for it?”

Cassian shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve known men to kill for less perceived slights.”

“This is absurd,” Jyn huffed as she stood up, snapping the file shut and tossing it back on the table with the rest. There were a few more possible suspects that they had to sort through, but those were the two most promising. “All this drama for a show about dressing up women like dolls on a shelf.”

She hated it. She hated every second of it. She and Imwe were at each other’s throats every time he tried to teach her something new. The talent part of the competition had gone surprisingly well. The outfit that she’d been put in though had nearly caused the fight of the century. If not for Malbus jumping in between the two of them and Cassian snatching Jyn around the waist to pull her back, it could’ve gotten very ugly. The sparkling cheerleading get up had looked like a mixture of a pervert’s wet dream and a Barbie outfit, but it worked alongside all of the other contestants’ absurd outfits.

But he knew that if he apologized, if he tried to say anything that might sound like pity, Jyn would snap at him faster than a viper. He never complained when he was forced to get his hands dirty while undercover; he knew that she would be furious with him if he so much as hinted that he thought she believed she was having it worse than he ever did. But he did feel bad. There was putting someone in a dangerous situation for a job and then there was putting someone in a situation that made them very much uncomfortable and upset. The first was normal for them; the second honestly was not.

“Ugh, can’t I just stay here – with you and the cookies?” Jyn flopped back onto one of the beds. “I like Leia and all, but it feels nice to just…get out of there. I can just sleep right here and be back before dawn.”

“Then where would I sleep?” Cassian pointed out. “That’s my bed.”

Jyn pointed to the other bed. “Take that one.”

“Uh, no, that’s Agent Kay’s, and he is not one for sharing.”

“The floor then.”

“You’d consider me sharing a bed with Kay and the floor before you sharing a bed with me?” Cassian asked. “That’s so kind of you after I brought you contraband.”

At that, Jyn propped herself up on her forearms and stared at him. “You wouldn’t mind sharing a bed with me?”

Cassian narrowed his eyes at her, locking them in a dead stare. Was she trying to goad him or was she just asking him a question? He couldn’t tell. Jyn typically wore her heart on her sleeve for everyone to see. He’d gotten exceptional at reading her, even when she was doing her best to hide. It came with being good at being unreadable himself. But this undercover gig was giving her a chance at practicing all the things that came natural to him. Imwe was basically teaching her how to pretend, which in turn made it more difficult for Cassian to figure out what was going on in her head.

“Whatever, I can’t do anything that would make Leia question me,” Jyn sighed disappointedly as she sat up the rest of the way and dragged herself off of the bed. “We’ve got a free night tomorrow, which means girl’s night out apparently. I’ll try to get something out of Leia thanks to the truth serum that is alcohol.”

And with that, she snatched her bathrobe and was gone. Cassian leaned back in his seat and scratched the back of his head, looking at the bed. The comforter was still indented slightly from where she’d been laying. For some reason, he just knew that it was going to cause him problems tonight.

*

A girl’s night out should not have been nerve-wracking and yet it was. Jyn was putting herself out there. Gathering information directly from a suspect’s or criminal’s mouth was dangerous. One wrong word, one push too many, and the person could become suspicious. It was like a game of chess. You had to anticipate how the other person would react before making a move. You had to be careful, subtle, delicate.

Jyn’s typical tactics were none of those things.

They’d gone to bars before while on ops, but nothing like this. The other guys on surveillance duty had been practically frothing at the women to the point where he’d been forced to sit them all down and give them a talking to like they were teenage boys. Honestly, he didn’t know what was wrong with them. Yeah, the women’s dresses were almost all short and tight, but it wasn’t like none of them had never seen a woman before.

And then Cassian nearly choked on his coffee when Jyn came into view.

There was no way in hell that she was comfortable wearing a dress that short. His suspicions were confirmed when he caught sight of her tugging at the hemline to no avail. Her hair was down, soft brown waves trailing over her shoulders and down her back. He could tell that she’d done her own makeup; it was a lot more natural than what the stylists did to her for the competition. She looked great though, if not a bit intimidating in his opinion, like the kind of girl you’d seen at a bar and want to approach but would think twice about it. Then again, that was Jyn naturally to a t.

One of the guys whistled. “Damn, Andor, your partner is hot.”

Cassian shot the agent a look that told him under no circumstances was he to ever utter those words again. It shut the guy right up and he sunk back in in his seat.

The plan for the night was simple. A few taxis were taking a handful of the girls to the nearest night club where they could drink the night away and let loose for a bit. They didn’t have anything going on until tomorrow night, so none of them seemed too concerned. After some drinking, Jyn would attempt to carefully needle Leia Organa for information concerning her more intense activist proclivities. The hope was that if Leia got suspicious of Jyn’s questions, Jyn could play off as a talkative drunk. Which she wasn’t. She tended to get quiet when she drank; he just hoped she wouldn’t fall into that mood.

Meanwhile, Cassian and a small team would follow them in a surveillance vehicle. They had bugs planted and the earpiece Jyn was wearing so that they would be able to hear what was going on. Two agents would be inside the club so that they could keep a visual on the targets since all of their video equipment was centered around the hotel and backstage. Cassian had decided to stay inside the truck. He would’ve liked to have been out in the field, but it was best if he stayed back and coordinated.

As the women slipped into the club, music started to take over the mics, but luckily they could still hear things. He had worried that it might get too loud, but Jyn’s voice carried through clearly and they’d planted enough bugs so that they could sort through multiple conversations.

“Alright, ladies, let’s do some shots!” a woman, Miss Texas from the sound of it, called.

“Uh, shots? Seems a little excessive.” That was Jyn. She was the clearest. He’d never known her to turn down a shot.

“Oh, honey, it gets you more bang for its buck,” Miss South Carolina pointed out. “Plus, less calories. All that juice in this mixed drinks gets you in the end, so much sugar.”

All of them had fully expected the girls to order the girliest drinks, but it appeared as if none of them were even considering it. A few ordered vodka waters, but besides that, it was shots. No beer. Jyn was probably melting on the inside from being so close and yet so far. At least she could drink bourbon, seeing as how Miss Kentucky would take nothing less than bourbon or moonshine. The girls cheered and started the night. It began to dissolve after that as groups were made and the agents set to work to listening in and waiting. It was going to be a long night.

About an hour in, he could tell that some of the men were getting restless. Nothing of import was being said. Mostly it was just women talking about men, other contestants, and swapping some absolutely wild stories that were entertaining and eyebrow-raising but essentially useless. Jyn meandered her way through most of them, speaking every now and then, but mainly listening herself. She was having trouble fitting in. He could feel her spiraling on the other end, stressing out that she couldn’t make proper contact.

“C’mon, Jyn, you got this,” Cassian muttered to himself.

He didn’t think she could’ve heard him, but then there she was, loud as can be, on the other end. “Leia, how about another round?”

“Think you can keep up with me, Kansas?” Leia taunted.

“What else is there to do there, you think?” Jyn countered and the two women laughed. He heard Jyn order them another round of drinks, vodka waters with lime, and then push their way back to the table. “So what about you? Get up to a lot of partying up in New York?”

“Not unless you count dinner parties and fundraisers,” Leia replied. “Being a senator’s daughter can be a real bore. You can’t do much of anything in case it’ll cause a scandal.”

“You don’t seem like you’re afraid of pushing the envelope,” Jyn pointed out.

“Oh, what makes you say that?”

“Well, it takes a certain kind of person to get involved with protests against Wall Street and big banks when their father probably gets money from them and they tend to donate to these kinds of competitions.”

Cassian leaned forward in his seat. “Careful, Jyn, careful. Less bulldozer.”

There was a brief pause from Leia. “It can complicate things. The pageants are a double-edge sword. On one hand, they give me more fame so I can use it to get more messages out. On the other, people don’t take me seriously because they see me as just some pretty beauty queen.”

“Sounds like the kind of thing that would make someone do something drastic to be heard.”

“Don’t just ask her right out if she plans to bomb the pageant!” Cassian hissed.

“What are you saying?” Leia questioned.

“Nothing,” Jyn replied flippantly, “I just know how it is. To work so hard and be passionate about something that makes up a huge part of who you are and not be taken seriously because I’m a woman or just a pretty face. It sucks. It’s like a punch to the gut.”

Leia let out a sigh. “You’re right. All I want to do is help people and do some good with what I’ve been given. But I’m either too young, too attractive, or too…”

“Bitchy?”

“Yeah!” There was the sound of ice rattling. Leia must’ve finished her drink already. “I want to go into politics like my father, but now I have to worry if my decision to do these beauty pageants like my mother wanted might hinder that future. They’ve given me a platform without resorting to using my father’s name, but it feels like they’ve hurt me as well. I’m going to Yale, for god’s sake, but people just see me as some dumb pageant girl.”

“It’s not fair,” Jyn said, almost sounding just as angry. “All of this – it isn’t who we are. It’s just a part of us. But all men can see are a pair of smooth legs and boobs and everything we’ve accomplished goes to the wayside.”

Was that what Jyn really thought? Was that why she went out of her way to hide everything about her appearance? So that she wouldn’t be judged? She did make herself appear as more masculine, perhaps as a way to compensate for the fact that she was pretty. She’d done an excellent job. None of the agents had even considered her for the undercover aspect. It had been by accident that her name had come up on the computer.

Even worse, he could recall on more than two hands the times that other agents had called her a “bitch” or worse. It never phased her; she wore it like a badge of honor. It had always pissed him off, but he’d never said anything about it either. He trusted her; he appreciated her work ethic; and he knew that she was a damn good agent. Nothing else mattered. But had he been guilty too in some way? Of ignoring a part of who she was? He just saw the agent sometimes, his partner, that he tended to forget that she was also a woman.

Now it was something that none of them could ignore. This competition had forced it upon all of them, maybe even her. She was a woman. He’d reacted to it, no matter how much he tried to deny it. The other guys had too. He had noticed a few changes. The men weren’t as afraid of her as before and a few had even talked over her or outright ignored what she said. He had recognized the murderous look on her face immediately, but she had bit her tongue instead of lashing out like usual. She was saving it for later, most likely, once this mission was over. More than a few people were going to regret how they acted.

“Let’s get another drink,” Leia decided, snapping Cassian out of his thoughts. “Screw men!”

Jyn laughed. “I couldn’t agree more.”

Cassian cleared his throat. “That’s it? You’re just going to leave it at that?”

“Patience, Cassian,” Jyn grumbled over the listening device.

“You’re lecturing me on patience now?” Cassian questioned.

“Kestral, how about a shot?” Leia’s distant voice called.

“You need to press her for more,” Cassian insisted.

Jyn practically growled on the other end. “You know what? I can’t do this with you in my ear. Neither one of us were made for girl talk.” And with that, the sound of her plucking the earpiece out came over the speakers.

“What are you–?” Cassian jumped to his feet. “Jyn. Jyn!” There was a plunking sound and then the line crackled and went dead. She’d dropped her earpiece into a drink, effectively cutting them off from her. She was offline. He jerked his headphones off and tossed them onto the table. “Damnit!”

“I mean, what can we really do?” one of the guys asked. “It’s just a bunch of girl talk.”

“She could be having ‘girl talk’ with a potential bomber,” Cassian snapped, shutting the guy up. How could she have done this? No, no, he knew. She thought he didn’t trust her to complete the mission. Maybe she thought he believed she had gone soft after all the feminine changes. He rubbed the bottom of his face. He did trust her. He knew she could do what needed to be done.

So he did what she wanted him to do: he waited. But if she didn’t make contact in an hour, he was going to have to do something.

Unfortunately, he hadn’t been aware how excruciating the hour would be. He spent the time listening in on the other devices and checking with the agents that were stationed inside, but it felt like the minutes were crawling. Deep down, he knew that Jyn was safe. He’d been in much worse situations while under radio silence; he’d even had his cover blown and his wire found. Still, he just didn’t like the idea of her being alone in a situation that he knew she found uncomfortable. He was her partner; he was supposed to have her back.

Once the hour was up, Cassian stood up and began to take off his tie. “I’m going in.”

“Sir?”

“It won’t be for long,” Cassian said. “I just want to touch base.”

He threw the tie over the back of his chair and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt. Once that was taken care of, he ran his fingers through his hair, giving it a careless toss. Jyn always made fun of him for wearing his uniform even when doing surveillance, but he’d always been taught that the first step to being something was looking the part. With just a few adjustments though, he looked as if he was planning on a night out.

After jumping out of the van, Cassian walked over to the club. It was late, so the line to get in wasn’t that long. The bouncer at the front didn’t even blink at him when he stepped inside. The scruff on his face made it quite obvious that he was old enough to drink. It took a second to adjust to the loud music and the flashing lights, but once he did, he spotted the girls almost instantly. They weren’t difficult to find. A group of very attractive young women wearing their best clubbing outfits, dancing, laughing, having fun. Any straight guy would have to be an idiot to not notice them.

Jyn was near the edges, but she wasn’t alone. There was Leia, along with Miss Georgia, Miss Kentucky, and Miss Washington. All of them had a drink in their hand and were dancing while talking. Jyn’s cheeks were pink and there was a fresh glow about her, but she wasn’t sulking like she normally did when she drank. In fact, the grin on her face looked very much genuine. His heart slowed upon seeing her safe, instantly reassured, but that didn’t mean he was going to just let it go.

He got a drink and sipped on it at the bar while he looked around until he saw his opening. A man approached Miss Kentucky and pulled her out onto the dance floor with him. Cassian knew that it wouldn’t be much longer before other men braved up and did the same now that one had done it. He finished his drink, set it down on the bar, and weaved his way through the crowd towards them. Just before another man could step in, Cassian cut him off and appeared before Jyn.

“How about a dance?” he asked.

Jyn’s eyebrows shot up, very much surprised at seeing him, but she didn’t push him away. She hadn’t expected him to show up, but she wasn’t as mad as he’d worried she’d be. Instead, her grin took an impish turn and she looked at the girls around her. “What do you say? Should I give the man a dance?”

“He looks determined,” Miss Georgia giggled. “A lot braver than all the other guys you’ve scared off all night.”

Cassian gave Jyn an easy smile, one that told her she could say no if she liked. Her eyes flashed to him again, sizing him up. When her eyes roved over him, he almost squirmed for some reason, but held his ground. She was quite intimidating, in more ways than one. He’d seen her force men to back down with just a look. Finally, she shrugged her shoulders and took his hand, allowing him to guide her onto the dancefloor. Immediately, he spun her around, catching her off guard, so that her back was pressed against his chest.

“Quite the stunt you pulled,” Cassian murmured in her ear.

Jyn leaned her head back against him. “I felt like I was being torn in multiple directions. I couldn’t concentrate.”

“Sure it wasn’t the alcohol?”

“Oh, please, half of these vodka waters have just been water,” Jyn scoffed.

That was his partner. He almost smiled into her hair as they danced together. When he slid his hands down to her hips, she took a sharp breath and pushed back against him, startling him a little. Right, this was his partner. And they were grinding against one another. He couldn’t help but think that all eyes were on them, but no, it was dark and the flashing lights offered little vision. Besides, everyone else was doing the same thing around them. They blended into the crowd.

He didn’t see how. Jyn looked electric right now in this dress. He was very aware of the fact that his hands were close to her bare skin. He could move his thumbs and they would be able to caress the small of her back, which was being shown off by the swooping material, or the tips of his fingers could skirt just a few inches and would graze her thighs. She really didn’t know how to dance, but it didn’t matter. Every time her body pressed against his a spark shot through him.

“Imwe allowed you to wear flats?” Cassian asked, trying to think of something. “I’m shocked.”

“Alcohol and heels sounded like a terrible combination,” Jyn pointed out cheekily. “Besides, he said most of the girls would take off the heels halfway through the night anyways.”

“Speaking of the girls–”

Jyn turned around and looped her arms around his neck. He tensed at the way the front of her body pressed against his intimately, but she didn’t seem to notice. At least he managed to keep a schooled expression on his face. He did not want to know how she’d respond to him reacting like that.

“It’s not her,” Jyn said, her face close to his.

“Are you positive?”

“It’s not,” Jyn insisted, “but I did find out some more information on our favorite sleezy MC.” She smirked up at him. “I’m not entirely hopeless.”

“I never thought you were,” Cassian told her honestly.

For some reason, that seemed to shake something out of Jyn. Her smirk faltered as she stared into his eyes, like she was trying to determine if he was telling the truth. He knew how he was: on more than one occasion he’d been told that he was almost impossible to read. He’d been like that for years. Working in the Bureau had made it worse or better, depending on who you asked. It was a part of the job, but it was also a defense mechanism. He couldn’t even say where it had come from.

Jyn bit her lip. “I know I was your last choice for this mission, but–”

“I didn’t want to put you in a situation that would upset you,” Cassian interrupted, “not because I thought you weren’t capable of doing it. You’re one of the best agents I know.”

“Yeah, but look at me.” Jyn rolled her eyes. “I’m not beauty queen material.”

“Maybe not,” Cassian conceded, “but you are beautiful.”

Jyn stilled against him, no longer dancing. He turned them around so that she was out of view of the other girls and kept moving to make it look like they still were, but she’d frozen on him like a deer in headlights. When one of the lights flashed against her face, he got the distinct impression that she was scared – that there was actual fear in her eyes – but he couldn’t understand why. It was the truth.

“You’re just saying that because of all the stupid dresses and makeup,” she said defensively.

Cassian chuckled. “I’d be lying if I said they didn’t help, but I’ve known you were attractive for a while. It just never seemed appropriate to say.”

Jyn’s fingers curled around the back of his neck, sending a tingle down his spine. “And it is now?”

“I shouldn’t have presumed,” Cassian said. “Forgive me?”

There was something about the way she was looking at him now, something different than before. He couldn’t remember ever seeing her look like this. Soft, a little wary, but open as well. It was the kind of look that was inviting and prompted him forward without thinking. His grip on her tightened as she pressed up against him.

And then there was Leia, pulling Jyn away. “Kiss loverboy goodbye. Our rides are here!”

A very startled look crossed Jyn’s face, as if she hadn’t been aware of just how close she’d been to him. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.

Cassian forced a smile onto his face. “A pleasure dancing with you, Kestral. Good luck with the competition.”

“Right.” Jyn’s mouth snapped shut and she pressed her lips together in a thin line. “I’ll see you around.”

Leia ducked her head in close to Jyn’s and he could just make out, “Oh, he’s handsome,” before the two of them vanished into the crowd. He saw them once more when the doors opened and they poured outside with the other contestants.

Once they were gone, Cassian immediately made a beeline for the bar and ordered another drink. He slammed it back quickly before setting the glass on the bar. The agent standing next to him started to say something, but Cassian snapped, “Not a word,” before leaving the bar out the back. He needed the cool air and some time before he returned back to the van. The last people he wanted to be around were the guys. He wanted Jyn.

Groaning, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Not now. This was ridiculous.