#they are long chapters though so i might space the updating out a bit

[fezwearingjellybananas]

The Ghost of S.T.A.R. Labs

Cisco had been so excited to start work at S.T.A.R. Labs. The particle accelerator was due to switch on soon, he had a whole workshop and permission to work on whatever he wanted, there were so many possibilities.

He could safely say agreeing to help a ghost no one else seemed to be able to see finish his unfinished business was not on the list of things he had considered his new job would entail. (T, final word count tbc)

The Flash (TV 2014)

[Cisco Ramon, Barry Allen], Caitlin Snow, Iris West, Ronnie Raymond, Hartley Rathaway, Harrison Wells|Eobard Thawne

Major Character Death

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Pre-Canon, Ghost Barry Allen, (this is what the major character death tag refers to, Barry being a ghost and discussing his death and Nora's death), Minor Ronnie Raymond/Caitlin Snow, Minor Eddie Thawne/Iris West, Past Hartley Rathaway/Eobard Thawne | Harrison Wells, Hurt/Comfort, Miscarriage, (a small mention in chapter 3 of long past events, this is not a major plot point the tag is here as a heads up)

S.T.A.R. Labs. Branches in Starling, Gotham, and a handful of other places, but the Central lab was the biggest, most up to date talked about lab this year. A great circular building, shining right next to the river, towering white and glass that housed the particle accelerator, due for switch on in just a few months that everyone was talking about. It was at the Central lab Doctor Harrison Wells- founder of S.T.A.R. Labs and subject of a recent best-selling biography- spent most of his time. Jobs at S.T.A.R. were filled in no time, people so excited at the prospect of working there.

And apparently it was a huge maze inside.

It would have been very helpful if someone had given him a map.

[Continued on AO3]

[ktownshizzle]

Terms & Conditions | Chapter 4

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader

Summary: Managing Min Yoongi as one of your encoders during his alternative military service should’ve been simple. He is quiet, punctual—and can apparently type as fast as he can rap! Not to mention the fact that he is easy on the eyes and keeps wanting to help you. You’ve signed an iron-clad NDA, detailing the full terms and conditions of his temporary employment, so you’re supposed to keep things professional, but what happens if neither of you wants to?

Genre: Fluff, eventual smut, co-workers to lovers, office romance, idol!au

Warnings: Purely speculative regarding Yoongi’s alternative military service and how this is really done in SK, I might include scootergate in a future chapter but please know it will be written sensibly imo and with so much love for our Yoongi (I just wanna protecc him at all costs even thru this silly story!), some cursing, boss/employee relationship sorta but there's no power play involved, reader and Yoongi are within the same age range

Chapter Warnings: MC is actin’ a fool (she’s just a little conflicted guys, don't be mad), angst if you squint, second-hand embarrassment, if there are mistakes please ignore them I’m still editing, first kiss and it’s hawt and it's with this yoongi. jfc~!

Word count: 5.6k (approx. 20 mins to read)

Posting date: October 23, 2024

Notes: This would be my last quick update for a while. Next chapter will be out in 3 weeks time earliest. In the meantime, enjoy~

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Masterlist

Turns out, you actually did have ramen. 

It wasn’t supposed to go like this. The whole night had been building to something else. The tension between you and Yoongi had been thicc, simmering for weeks, magnified in every stolen glance, every knowing smile, every deliberate touch.

But all of that changed the moment you stepped inside your apartment. Let’s back track a bit.

You fumbled with your keys, taking at least three tries longer than usual to unlock the door. Your heart was racing, Yoongi’s presence behind you was like a furnace. He must’ve noticed your nerves because he placed his hands gently on your shoulders, trying to soothe you, but it only made you more conscious.

Finally, you made it inside.

Too flustered to even turn on the lights, the dim glow from the kitchen cast long shadows, making the space feel smaller, more intimate. Wordlessly, you both kicked off your shoes and hung up your coats.

“Ramen, huh?” Yoongi teased, his voice low, the smirk practically audible. He wasn’t fooled by the offer. You both knew what ‘ramen’ meant. But for some reason, you were acting like a complete idiot.

“Y-Yeah,” you stammered, bolting to the kitchen as if the pots and pans could save you. “We could actually eat ramen. I, uh... have some.”

Yoongi didn’t reply immediately, but you heard his slow, deliberate footsteps following behind. That sound alone made your pulse race faster. You yanked open cabinets with more force than necessary, the clattering of dishes betraying your current state of disarray. Grabbing the ramen packets, you held them up like a shield. “I have shin ramyeon, jin ramen, buldak—what’s your favorite?”

When you turned around, Yoongi was leaning against the counter, watching you with a quiet, amused smile. “You’re nervous,” he observed. No shit, Sherlock!

You shook your head, denying it, even though you weren’t fooling anyone—not even yourself. A pack of ramen just fell on your foot. You bend over to retrieve it, and when you stand back up, Yoongi is in front of you, hands outstretched to take the three other packets from your arms and place them on the counter.

The way he was looking at you sent shivers down your spine. You were a ball of yarn, slowly unraveling under this cat’s playful hands. You gulped, turning back to run the pot under the tap.

“Okay,” Yoongi said from behind you, clearly stifling a laugh. “Ramen it is, then.”

You exhaled deeply as you heard him make his way to the living room. You peeped from behind your shoulder. He’s checking out some of the photos from a low shelf, a small smile on his lips. 

Fuck the pot’s overflowing. Hastily, you closed the faucet,  poured out some of the water, and brought the pot to the stove.

“Where’s the bathroom?” he asked, his tone casual.

You waved a hand vaguely toward the hallway without even looking, trying to avoid eye contact with him as much as possible. “Just down there.”

And that’s when you messed up. Because after that, everything changed.

When he came back, something was off. He looked... discombobulated. His face caught somewhere between amusement and disbelief.

“What?” you asked, sprinkling dehydrated vegetables from the Shin Ramyun pack into the pot. “What happened?”

Yoongi tilted his head, biting back a grin. “Your room… it’s, uh, very...”

It took a second, but then it hit you. Hard.

“Oh no...” Your stomach dropped. You are the biggest idiot of all time.

He hadn’t gone to the bathroom. He went to Chae’s room. Chae, your BTS-obsessed best friend, whose room is practically a shrine to Yoongi and his bandmates. Posters, merch, plushies, framed photos—everything. Depending on her mood, Yoongi might even be the featured member on her duvet.

“Oh my God,” you breathed, horrified. “You didn’t—”

“I did,” Yoongi confirmed, voice full of barely contained laughter. He pulled out a barstool and sat down. “Didn’t know you were ARMY.”

“Okay, hang on.” You raised your palms in defense, scrambling to reason. How can you explain this without offending him? “No, I’m not ARMY. Don’t get me wrong. I like you—uh, I mean, I like BTS. But that’s not my room.”

Yoongi nodded, a finger lodged between his teeth to bite back his amusement at your rambling. “I’m just teasing. I saw the neon sign with Chae’s name. Couldn’t miss it.” He shrugs, “Just wasn’t expecting to see more of Jungkook-ah tonight. Chae really loves those Calvin Klein ads, huh?”

You buried your face in your hands, peeking through your fingers. “I’m so sorry.”

Yoongi shook his head, reaching for your wrists, gently pulling your hands away so he could see you. “Why are you apologizing?”

You stared at him meekly, voice tiny. “I dunno…”

“It’s not a crime. Besides…”

“Besides what?”

He grinned, resting his chin on his hand. “I got you to admit something, at least.”

You blinked, confused. “Admit what?”

His grin widened. “That you like me—I mean BTS, you like BTS,” he teased, repeating your earlier words. You were mortified all over again.

You groaned helplessly, turning your back to him.

His cute, throaty laugh somehow made you feel a little less embarrassed—but also made your heart race for an entirely different reason.

You heard the crinkle of ramen packets being opened, and when you turned back around, Yoongi was standing there, eyes glinting mischievously behind the steam of the boiling water.

“This ramen’s gonna be fuckin’ good. I can already tell.”

The evening takes on a different rhythm after that, the heat no longer crackling with the same intensity, but still simmering beneath the surface, like the hot broth you scooped into ceramics for you and Yoongi to enjoy. 

You both sit on the couch, soup bowls on hand, laughing about the absurdity of walking into Chae’s room, talking about anything that isn’t the weight you’ve both been carrying. Yoongi leans back, stretching one arm along the cushions behind you, the space between you narrowing with each quiet moment.

The conversation fades, and the silence that follows feels more like a prelude to another conversation that needs to be had. His fingers graze your shoulder before curling around it, pulling you gently toward him. You don’t pull away. Instead, you lean in, letting his warmth seep into you, feeling the quiet shift between you. 

It’s not the same moment you’d have expected earlier, but it feels real, steady. And maybe that’s better. Maybe this is what you actually need. For now.

“There’s something here, isn’t there?” he asks softly, like he’s testing the waters.

“Yeah,” you reply, the truth rolling out without hesitation. You inhale sharply, the reality of the moment catching up to you. “There is.” You exhale, saying the next phrase almost regrettably. “But there’s also the NDA. If anyone finds out... I could lose my job.”

Yoongi’s grip tightens, his thumb brushing slow circles on your shoulder. “I know,” he says gently, almost apologetically. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I’d never risk that.”

You look up at him, really look, and it’s all there—the restraint, the careful way he’s holding himself back, waiting for you to lead. You can see the desire in his vision, the way his body leans just slightly into yours, the way his focus lingers on your lips and stays there. He wants you, but he’s not going to push.

“I can’t think straight when you look at me like that,” you whisper, the words slipping out before you can stop them. Why did you say that? It feels dangerous, like you’ve just given up a secret you weren’t ready to share.

“You think I can?” he chuckles softly, tipping his head back toward the ceiling, exhaling a frustrated “shit” like he’s trying to release the tension hanging between you.

“Is this a bad idea, Yoongi?” you ask, looking down on your lap, scraping the dry bits of skin on one finger, just something else to focus on apart from his face.

Yoongi shifts closer, his body coaxing yours until you melt against him. His arms circle you, wrapping you in comfort, and you let him. Of course, you do. 'Cause it feels so damn good. He feels so damn good. You didn’t realize how touch-starved you are til this moment. Your arms quickly find your way around his body, too, and you revel in the satisfaction it brings.

“How about this,” he murmurs after a beat, his lips brushing the top of your head. “Let’s take some time to think about it. We don’t have to decide anything right now.”

You nod, resting your cheek against his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath you. He means it. He’s giving you the space, the choice—and that’s enough for now.

When Yoongi finally stands to leave, the atmosphere is a little lighter, still buoyant with potential. He pauses at the door, holding your hand just a little longer than necessary, his thumb brushing over your skin before he speaks.

“I won’t be in the office next week. I’ve got some things to take care of. But, can I invite you over to my place next Saturday?”

“Yeah,” you answer without hesitation. It feels like the easiest answer you’ve ever given.

Yoongi reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone, passing it to you without a word. You take it, knowing exactly what he wants—what’s long overdue—and type your number into it before giving it back.

Riding on a surge of courage, you rise up onto your tiptoes, and press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. Your hands find each other again, and the soft squeeze he does grounds you both in the moment. The kiss—it was more like a peck—is gentle, brief, but it feels like a promise. Unspoken, but understood. You’re not ready to explore it fully, not yet, but it’s gonna come. 

You pull away and catch the moment when his eyes slowly open. “Good night,” he whispers.

“Good night,” you reply, your hand lingering in his until it naturally falls away as he steps back, walking backward into the hallway.

The door clicks shut, and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, feeling both lighter and heavier all at once. Whatever just happened between you—it’s real. And now, you decide where it leads.

Not a minute after he leaves, your phone pings.

Unknown: 📍[Address] Unknown: Can’t wait for Saturday. Good night, beautiful. 

“RISE AND SHINE, SLUT!!!”

Chae bursts into your apartment like a tornado, her voice echoing through the space as she strides in, bags of coffee and donuts in tow. It’s barely 9 a.m., and she’s already charged with energy. You glance up from the kitchen where you're unloading the dishwasher, the clatter of dishes nearly drowned out by her entrance.

She marches straight toward you, tossing the bags onto the counter. “Alright, spill. What happened? On a scale of one to ten: how good was the tongue technology?” She’s practically vibrating, eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the grin that stretches on your lips. “The tongue technology was…” You pause dramatically, just to watch her lean in. “Nothing happened.”

Chae’s face drops, as she flops onto your couch. “What?! That’s impossible. Nothing?”

“Nothing,” you confirm, continuing to clear the dishes, the clang of silverware punctuating your words. “You kinda had something to do with it, actually.”

She bolts upright, brows raised. “Wait, what did I do?”

You shake your head, trying to hold back laughter. “Well, he needed to use the bathroom, but…”

The way she looks horror-stricken is hilarious as she pieces it together. “No!!! Shut the fuck up.”

“Yep,” you say, biting your lip to keep from laughing as you lean against the counter. “He went into your Magic Shop.”

“NOOOOOOO!!!” Chae wails, dramatically falling off the couch and onto the floor, writhing like she’s physically in pain. You can’t hold it in anymore and burst into laughter as she flails on your living room floor, her face scrunched in pure mortification.

You finish your story, shaking your head. “Yup. So, there he was, just trying to take a piss, and instead, he was greeted by all of his own face staring back at him. Honestly, the fact that he didn’t run screaming is a miracle. I for sure thought he would think we’re some psycho duo who lured him in our den to murder him and sell his body parts in the black market.”

Chae sits up, groaning. “Oh my god, I am so sorry. I can’t believe—fuck.”

You wave her off, still grinning. “It’s fine. We ended up eating ramen and just… hanging out.”

“Being the world’s worst cockblock was not in my 2024 bingo card. Did I fuck it all up?”

You wince, wiping your hands on a dish towel and tossing it onto the counter. “It was awkward for, like, five minutes. But no, not really.”

“But…” Chae tilts her head, zeroing in on the shift in your tone. “You’re low-key panicking, aren’t you?”

You sigh, crossing your arms and leaning against the counter. “God, I know it sounds ridiculous! I’ve been losing it, thinking I’m just, like, this weird work wife and he’s just stringing me along for shits. And now that I actually know he’s into me too, I thought I’d feel better, but I’m not–I’m still freaking out.”

Chae watches you, letting you get it all out.

“What are people going to say if they find out? That I seduced him—just like they thought I would? It’s insulting and mortifying! I don't want to be that girl. And more than just office gossip, there’s that NDA hanging over my head. I could actually get sued…”

“First of all, that whore Danbi can suck it,” Chae says bluntly, shrugging as she hops up from the floor and grabs a donut. “And honestly, babe, let Yoongi pay the fines even before shit hits the fan. He’s got enough money.”

“Be for real, Chae.”

“Girl, if he’s serious about you, he needs to handle it. Make it known to his company that you’re not some random hookup. He’s gotta deal with that shit.”

“It’s too early for ultimatums,” you argue. “We’re not even officially anything yet.”

Chae raises an eyebrow. “You’re something. I saw the way he was looking at you, all heart eyes. And don’t think I didn’t see you guys playing handsies under the table. You make me sick.”

Your lips form a straight line, trying to hold back a smile, but you can’t help it. “He’s so… ugh. I like him.”

Chae grins, sitting beside you. “I get it. You want it to be real, but you’re scared of the shitstorm that comes with it.”

Chae gets it. This is why she’s your bestfriend. “Exactly,” you sigh. “It’s just… complicated now.”

Chae reaches over, squeezing your hand gently. “Look, you’ll figure it out. Don’t let fear stop you from seeing where this goes. You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, nodding slightly. “Yeah… I guess.”

Chae stands, stretching dramatically before heading for her room. “And next time? I’ll make sure my room is locked.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, it’s a real boner killer.”

“Funny, I’ve never had any issues in there.”

“Get the fuck outta here.”

“Love you!” she sings, grinning as she enters her room.

“Love you too!”

You’ve been on edge for days, but now, standing in front of Yoongi’s apartment, that nervous energy shifts into something else—anticipation. The building’s lobby feels imposing, the security guard's request for two forms of ID more than enough to stir your nerves. Once they verify your information, you're ushered to the elevator and as you ascend there’s a buzz beneath your skin. 

The moment the doors slide open, Yoongi is already there, leaning casually against the doorway, waiting just for you. His smile is welcoming, but the hug he wraps you in says everything he doesn’t—soft, steady, and a little too tight, like he's been needing this as much as you have.

“Hi,” you say when he releases you, suddenly feeling all shades of shy.

“Hi,” he replies, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he pulls you inside. The door behind you slides shut with a quiet whirr, the lock clicking into place as if on cue.

Yoongi’s apartment in Hannam feels sleek and modern, but with a lived-in vibe. The couch is slightly disheveled, pillows piled at one end, and a throw blanket is casually tossed across the cushions, like he’d been napping before you arrived. The soft glow of a three-wick candle flickers from the console, its scent filling the space with something comforting, like freshly laundered sheets—a blend of clean cotton and subtle sweetness that wraps around you as you step inside.

He looks so hot, it should be a crime. He’s dressed comfortably, but he still looks effortlessly sexy. It’s kind of unfair, actually. The oversized black hoodie hangs loosely, and the faded jeans cling to his frame, the rips at the knees offering a glimpse of skin. Scandalous! 

What really catches your eye, though, are the silver hoops glinting in his ears—one thicker, hanging low, and the other daintier, nestled in his second lobe. You’ve never seen him wear jewelry before, and the sight of him in it now sends a thrill through you, a quiet gesture that he put thought into today.

You made an effort too, choosing a lacy purple top that peaks from under your white zip-up hoodie, paired with those jeans—the ones that always make you feel a little extra confident. Standing here, you hope it shows.

He ushers you to the kitchen where the comforting smell of suyuk simmering on the stove greets you.

“You can stay here, or chill at the couch,” he says, casually slinging a kitchen towel over his shoulder. “Might need a few more minutes with this.”

“I don’t mind. I think I want to stay here,” you do a tiny hop to sit on the counter, giving you a great view of the yummy meal prepared by this equally delicious man. Honestly, you’re still wondering how this became your life.

The pot of suyuk is covered to stew for minutes more. Yoongi pulls the sleeves of his black hoodie to his elbows and grins. “Wine?”

You nod.

“Rosé, ok?”

You nod again, watching the way his hand moves with practiced ease, filling a glass in one smooth motion. He passes you your glass and picks up his.

Yoongi leans against the counter opposite you. “You know,” he starts, a playful glint in his gaze, “you’re really annoying.”

The heck?! You quirk an eyebrow, bringing the glass to your lips. “Excuse me?”

“Yeah, seriously,” he continues, stepping just a little closer, “you’ve been stuck in my head all week, and it’s kind of a problem.”

A nervous laugh escapes you, but you try to keep it light. “Oh, I’m the annoying one? You’re the one who brought that loud-ass mechanical keyboard to work.”

He pouts, the playful edge you’re used to shining through. “Hey, you never said anything about that.” He moves again, this time standing directly in front of you. “But I’m serious.”

Your pulse quickens as he lowers his voice, glancing down to his wine glass, before he looks back up at you. “I’ve been thinking about you. A lot.”

The words hit you, sending a flurry of butterflies in your stomach. You set your glass down on the counter, beside where he sets his, feeling the energy shift between you. “You’re just saying that because I’m here, in your fancy apartment, drinking your fancy wine.”

Yoongi goes to step into the space between your legs, and they instinctively part to let him closer. “Nah, you know it’s more than that.”

Goddamn. Your knees brush against his hips as he inches closer, his hands coming to rest lightly by your thighs, squeezing it lightly.

“We… we probably shouldn’t,” you whisper, though your fingers are already resting on his arms, curling lightly around the sleeves of his hoodie, keeping him close. “Not until we’ve talked.”

“I know.” He pauses, searching your face, but instead of withdrawing, his hands slide up to cradle your waist fully. “But we both know we want to.”

You bite your lip, looking at him. “Yeah, and that’s exactly the problem, isn’t it? Why does this have to be complicated?”

Yoongi’s hands tighten slightly, firm but still careful, as if he’s waiting for you to tell him to stop. “Things are always complicated,” he says quietly, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth trying.”

You exhale slowly, feeling his words settle over you. His forehead drops forward slightly, almost brushing yours. All you can focus on is him—how close he is, the feeling of his body, the steady rhythm of his breath.

“You’re so annoying, you know that?” you murmur, the corner of your mouth quirking up.

“Why?” His face is dangerously close to yours now, the question hanging in the air between you.

“Because I can’t get you out of my head either.”

Yoongi’s breath catches, a soft chuckle slipping out, but it’s not mocking—it’s almost relieved, like he’s been waiting for you to admit it. “Well, at least we’re on the same page.”

He leans in, his nose brushing lightly against yours, and for a moment, you think this is it—he’s going to kiss you. In fact, you could close the distance right now, but instead, you reach up, flicking his forehead with your fingers.

“Ow!” He jerks back, rubbing his forehead with a mock-offended expression. “What the hell was that for?”

“For making this complicated,” you smirk, the moment breaking just enough for you to breathe again.

“Right, blame me.”

“Well you’re the idol.” You laugh. The air feels less heavy now—more like a promise than a problem.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says after a moment, his voice low, serious again, palms going back on your legs, moving them like he is smoothing out the fabric.

“Yeah?” You thread the strings of his hoodie on your fingers.

He looks at you again, a soft grin tugging at his lips. “Yeah. But for now, I’m perfectly fine with being annoying if it means you’ll stick around.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the smile. “You know I will.”

His grin widens, playful again, but there’s something softer underneath. “Good,” he murmurs, leaning in just a little with a lopsided grin. “Me too.”

Dinner was amazing. The suyuk was cooked to perfection–soft, juicy, and subtly seasoned. Each slice melted in your mouth. Yoongi served it with four kinds of banchan, all prepared by his eomma and sent from Daegu that very morning. You don’t ask if it was specially because you were coming over, but you let yourself believe that for a while, even though it was presumptuous.

As he clears the table (refusing to let you help in any way), you wander to the window in his living room. Your mind wonders how Yoongi can be this perfect, really. First, he is handsome. Second, he is kind. Third, he smells wonderful. Fourth, he can cook. As you catalog all his wonderful traits in your brain to rival the Dewey Decimal system, his voice cuts through your thoughts.

“You ok?”

“Yeah,” you smile, though still a bit dazed. “Thank you for cooking.”

“My pleasure.”

Yoongi proffers you a glass of wine, and your fingers brush against his for just a moment—long enough to feel the spark that’s been igniting between you all night. 

The apartment feels spacious now, the soft, jazzy tune from the record player filling the room with a smoky, lazy rhythm.

You take a sip, admiring the view through the enormous window, the Han River stretching out beneath you like a sea of shimmering lights. The city skyline flickers, alive and distant, and for a moment, it’s as if the two of you are in your own world, above everything else.

Yoongi steps up beside you, the closeness between your bodies almost unbearable. He doesn’t say anything at first, just stands next to you as you both look out at the city. 

For a while, neither of you speaks, letting the silence stretch out. It’s not uncomfortable. If anything, it feels like the calm before something inevitable, something you both know is coming but aren’t quite ready to face.

“Beautiful view,” you murmur, more to fill the quiet than anything.

“Yeah,” Yoongi replies softly. “Gorgeous.”

“But you’ve seen it a hundred times.”

And then, you realize his gaze has been on you all along. “Not talking about the Han.”

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, catching the subtle curve of his lips. Your heart skips, and you look back out at the lights, trying to focus on something else.

“You know,” you start, your voice quieter now, “it’s dangerous spending this much time together.”

Yoongi shrugs, face indifferent. “I’m not worried about it.”

He sets his glass down on the windowsill, taking yours, too as he steps closer. “Are you?”

You hesitate for just a second, your pulse quickening. “Maybe.”

The city lights shimmer beneath you, but all you can focus on is him—on the way his eyes linger on your face, the force between you growing with every second. You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly his hands are on your waist, guiding you gently closer.

You freeze for just a moment, your breath catching as his fingers move underneath your hoodie to brush against the fabric of your top. It’s soft, barely there, but the electricity it sends through you is anything but subtle.

He leans in, his lips dangerously close to your ear, “I’ve been thinking about this all night.”

You feel your resolve waver, your heart pounding in your chest. You feel yourself melting onto him, your back now flush against his chest. The soft melody from the record player wraps around you, and before you know it, you’re swaying, the two of you moving in a slow, lazy rhythm.

You rest your head against his shoulder. His arms tighten around you just slightly, his fingers splayed across your stomach in a way that sends shivers down your spine.

“Yoongi,” you murmur, your voice barely audible over the music.

He hums, his breath hot against your ear, and doesn’t let go. Neither of you does, and the two of you continue to move to the slow rhythm of the music.

After a beat, your slow dance stops, and Yoongi coaxes you to face him. You meet his stare, and the look in them is unmistakable—he’s holding back, the same way you are. The longing between you is palpable, every second stretching out like it could break at any moment.

Your fingers grip the fabric of his hoodie, your voice a whisper as you say, “This could be a bad idea.”

He nods, his forehead resting against yours now. “I know. But it could also be good.”

You swallow hard, mulling it over. He says it like it’s simple, like he already believes it. 

“We don’t have to do anything, ok?” he assures you. “But I want to hear what you’re afraid of. I want to ease your mind.” He plants a soft peck on your forehead, as if he can magically erase all your fears.

You hesitate but even the doubts are starting to fall away. Maybe you shouldn’t. The NDA, the complications, the fine line you’ve been walking—there’s every reason to step back. To keep this where it’s been. But your heart’s hammering too fast, his presence too overwhelming. You take a deep breath.

You glance at him, the dim light casting shadows across his face, softening his features but sharpening the attraction between you. Your thoughts are spinning. You’ve never felt like this about anyone before. Not this kind of heat—this slow, dangerous burn that’s been growing between you for months. And it’s not just about how he looks, or the chemistry—though, that’s undeniable—it’s him. 

Yoongi is solid. Kind. Real in a way that cuts through your usual hesitations, making you feel like you want to dive into whatever this is, no matter the risk.

“Speak to me…” he encourages, pushing a piece of hair back behind your ear. But the words don’t come. Because even though you're filled with dread on what could happen if you take this step with him, you’re also filled with want. So, so much of it. You want him so bad. And you don’t think you can wait any longer.

“What if…” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. His eyes are on you now, sharp and focused. “What if… just this once? I don’t want to think about anything else.”

Yoongi doesn’t move. For a second, you think maybe you’ve phrased it so abrasively. But then his gaze shifts—something raw, something unguarded flashes across his face.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice low, almost a rumble in the quiet.

Your pulse races, the words caught in your throat, but there’s no going back now. You nod, the answer clear in your head before you can stop yourself. “Just one kiss.” 

And before you can second-guess yourself more, his lips are on yours—firm, demanding, and everything you’ve been waiting for.

Yoongi’s hand cups the back of your neck, his fingers sliding through your hair as he pulls you to him, fast and deliberate. The kiss isn’t soft. It’s immediate, intense. His lips crash against yours, rougher than you expected, but it feels so fuckin’ right.

Your back hits the glass window behind you with a thud, the cold surface making you gasp into the kiss, but Yoongi doesn’t stop. He’s all heat and urgency, his body pressing into yours like he’s trying to make up for every moment you’ve spent pretending you didn’t want each other this desperately. His hands move to your waist, gripping it like he’s afraid to let go.

You tilt your head, deepening the kiss, letting yourself melt into him. His lips are firm, skilled, moving with a kind of intensity that has you dizzy, every thought slipping away except for him. He breaks the kiss only to drag his lips down your jaw, his breath hot against your skin as his mouth finds the sensitive spot beneath your ear. 

You let out a soft moan, your hands finding a place at the back of his neck, guiding him back to your lips. It’s not graceful—none of this is. Raw and messy and honestly, it’s everything you’ve been holding back for far too long.

Yoongi’s hands slide up your arms, pushing them over your head, pinning your wrists against the glass. His body pushes harder against yours, breath coming fast and ragged as he looks down at you, his lips swollen from the kiss. There’s a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes, like he’s holding himself back but barely. 

“One more, please?” he asks, voice pained, like it’s taking everything in him not to go further, as his nose nudges yours.

You can’t think. Your brain is empty. It’s all Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi. The only answer you have is the way your body arches into his, silently begging for more. “Ok,” you nod, “more.” And that’s all he needs.

He leans in again, kissing you deeper this time, more controlled but no less intense. His hands tighten around your wrists, holding you there, completely under his control, and you can’t help but surrender to it. The glass behind you is cold, but his body is so warm against yours. 

You don’t know how long you stay like that—lost in the fire of his kiss, the feel of his hands on your skin. It feels like time doesn’t exist, like the world outside these four walls has disappeared, leaving just the two of you.

Slowly, he releases your wrist and only then do you start to feel the pinpricks shooting along your arms as they descend limply along your sides. Gasping for breath, you tilt your head to the side, and Yoongi instantly claims the crook of your neck, murmuring your name in a raspy voice against your skin.

But even then, he’s still waiting, waiting for a sign that you want this to go further. After all, you only said one kiss. Knowing Yoongi he will not go beyond what you tell him to. If he only knew that you are so far gone at this point. Game fuckin’ over.

When he finally retreats, both of you breathing hard, he doesn’t say anything immediately, but the way his eyes search yours says everything.

“Tell me what you want,” he pleads, his ragged breath dancing along the moist parts of your skin. “Anything, jagi, it’s yours.”

“You,” you say, inhibitions long gone, the sweet name he uses ushering all the nagging thoughts away. “I want you.”

Nodding, he closes the gap between you and mumbles his assurance against your mouth, “You have me.”

So tonight, you’ll let yourself have him. 

And it’s gonna be so fuckin’ good you can already tell.

A/N: Alright, how about that first kiss??? 🥴 Honestly, it got me blushing while editing that whole sequence.

And before y’all burn me at the stake for blue-balling you yet again–I promise you the next chapter will pick up where we left off and it won’t be some weird time-skip. Promise! ✋ Hehe. You need to wait for it a little bit though because the next chapter is only at 10% right now and work is gonna be pretty hectic for the next three weeks.

For now, let your imagination go buck wild, and don’t forget to leave me an ask or shout at me in the comments if you want to see anything specifically in the next chapters.

Also y’all have to thank this one lovely anon who requested for more time before scootergate, because initially it was gonna happen the Monday after this night. The horror!!

Thank you again for reading this, you lovely human! 😘 See you in the comments. ⬇️

Chapter Five >

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[whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk]

Begged & Borrowed Time (xxxii) (ao3)

(An update to celebrate the end of @nessianweek ❤️)

Chapter 32: Cassian flies down to Velaris for the first time since his recovery and Nesta receives not one but two visitors at the House of Wind.

(Prologue // previous chapter // next chapter)

Nesta felt Rhysand long before she found him.

As she rose from the chair beside Elain’s bed, skirting the sunlight that streamed in through the wide windows of the bedchamber, the High Lord’s presence was something slick and dark, snaking through the corridors of the House of Wind like a long-fingered shadow— stretching, searching.

Testing.

Her attention was pulled towards the library at the end of the corridor, and it felt familiar, that pull. That power. The way it glided across her skin, needled at her senses like it was trying to lure her out; similar in the way of distant cousins, so many generations removed.

With reluctance, Nesta followed.

Every step she took down the hallway seemed to bring her closer to something heavy, a dark touch against her skin that was as cold as the midnight sky in the middle of winter. It made the silver in her veins writhe, and when at last Nesta pushed open the door to the House of Wind’s private library, she wasn’t at all surprised to find a single chair filled by the empty hearth.

In the blink of an eye, somehow two weeks had passed since Nesta had last laid eyes on the High Lord of the Night Court.

She couldn’t really say she’d missed him.

“Where is Cassian.”

It was a question that might have been wrapped in thorns for the way it came out, barbed enough that even Nesta was surprised. Her voice seemed to echo in the emptiness of the library, the vast space silent, draped with the light of the noonday sun.

The High Lord flicked a hand towards the windows, a vague gesture towards the city down below.

Silver rings gleamed on his fingers, a burst of starlight against the impenetrable black of his shirt and pants, and as his dark eyes lifted, Rhysand kept his face blank and impassive, relaxing into his chair as Nesta paused in the doorway, letting the shadows fall across her as she lingered, hardly daring to step forward into the sunlight. Rhysand was bathed in it— a warm slant of golden light burnishing his sable hair and illuminating the sharp cut of his jaw as he tilted his head to the side, cataloguing her hesitation.

If he realised that he was the last person in the entire realm that Nesta wanted to see today, he didn’t show it. Rhysand merely rested an elbow on the arm of his chair, curling his fingers towards his palm.

“Nesta,” he said, a curious expression flitting across his face, like he was trying to summon an ember of warmth when he spoke. “I came to see how you were doing.”

A lie if ever there was one.

Rhysand might as well have had ulterior motives written right across his damned forehead.

He sat back, crossing one ankle over his knee in a stance that was only deceptively casual. Nesta wasn’t a fool; Rhysand might have appeared calm, like the mirrored surface of a still lake, but beneath… she knew his display of ease was just as false as her own. Through narrowed eyes she watched him, feeling the flames lick at her bones as they coursed through her like a whisper, a lethal undercurrent every bit as potent as Rhysand’s.

“Where is Cassian?” she asked again, folding her arms over her chest and remaining, steadfast, in the shadowed corner by the door.

“In the city,” Rhysand answered, letting his hand drop to pluck at a piece of lint at his knee. “The flight will be good for him. He needs to rebuild the strength in his wings.”

Nesta said nothing.

Rhysand’s eyes glinted. “Did he not tell you?”

There was something cruel there, something biting that said the High Lord didn’t like the way Cassian seemed to act as though Nesta had become the centre of his world. Somehow, something told her he was hoping she’d say no.

But Cassian had told her. Had knocked tentatively on her door that morning, stuck his head around the frame and asked if she wanted to join him. He’d been building up to it for days, taking small fights here and there, never far from the House roof, and even though he always asked, Nesta had never stepped out to watch him. She preferred to linger in the shadows, like it might protect her somehow. But Cassian had always come right back to her when he touched ground, like he couldn’t stay away too long, and with the sun climbing higher in the sky, she thought he might have returned by now.

Not that she was concerned.

Not really.

She just couldn’t keep her mind from straying to that night when everything had fallen apart, when she’d been lying on that cold floor, unable to do anything but watch as he lay broken and too far from her reach, his wings in tatters, his blood spilling on the stone.

What if he was hurt? What if it was too soon, his wings not strong enough to bear his weight yet—

“How are you, anyway?” Rhysand asked, hauling Nesta back to the present.

It was almost conversational, almost like he cared.

Suspicion crawled along her spine, dripping thick as oil. In the five days since Rhysand had last visited the House of Wind - for that godforsaken dinner that Nesta had heartily declined Cassian’s invitation to - he had seemed entirely content to leave her be, learning of her welfare through questions posed to either Cassian or Azriel, and yet now Rhysand sat in that chair, in the library that had become Nesta’s source of peace, asking her how she was. She didn’t fail to miss the way his eyes flicked to her folded arms, like he could sense the fire gathering there behind her ribs, pooling at her fingertips.

“Fine,” she bit out, looking right past him and out of the windows, to the sun-drenched city below. The river was a silver ribbon running through the winding streets, glimmering as the midday sun beat down upon its length, and she knew that if she only stepped forward, the light would brush her cheeks and warm her skin.

She didn’t move.

The power beneath her skin coiled, curling in on itself as if preparing to strike, and Rhysand’s face was a mask of indifference as he followed her gaze to the windows. Tapping a finger gently on his knee, he looked back once more at the hands Nesta wrapped around herself. Something flickered in his violet eyes, the stars there winking out as his attention snagged on the hands she kept concealed. The High Lord cocked his head to the side, examining her the way one might look at a beast in the woods.

His lips parted as he leaned forwards, eyebrows drawing together as he looked at her with a kind of scrutiny Nesta hadn’t felt since her mother had died.

And then—

“Cassian will kill me, but I need to know what happened that night at Hybern. Inside the Cauldron.”

Every bone, every muscle, every nerve in Nesta’s entire body locked, stiffening as Rhys’ voice quieted.

She should have known, she thought, as her heart pounded indignantly in her chest. The moment she saw him there, waiting for her, she should have known the questions were coming. Questions he’d asked before— ones she hadn’t answered then, and certainly didn’t feel like answering now.

“I told you last time,” she answered, her voice a rasp that threatened to cut her throat on its way out. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you know exactly what I mean.”

Fury bubbled in her gut, stealing her breath as she watched Feyre’s mate look at her with barely-concealed disdain, his lip curling as he dragged his eyes across her frame. In another life, another time, perhaps Nesta might have found a way to get along with Rhysand. Maybe even like him. But if she was a fire refusing to relent, then so was he. All her sharpness, all her stubbornness… it was thrown back at her, reflected in his eyes. Like calls to like, she’d heard them say, and as Rhysand looked at her with a glare that she knew was identical to her own, she wondered if in this case, like didn’t call to like, but repelled it.

“Is that all you’re here for?” she hissed. “To see what you can gain by what happened to Elain and I in that throne room?”

Somehow, his face darkened even further. A shadow crossed his eyes, his hands clenched into fists as tight as Nesta’s own, and whatever patience he’d had before, it was fraying now, perilously close to snapping. His power rumbled, like a distant thunderhead about to break. He closed his eyes, as if letting it wash over him, and when he opened them again, there was a grim determination shining in the violet.

“You feel it,” he said, his voice a low whisper. “Don’t lie to me, Nesta. I know.” He held up a hand, spread his fingers and exposed his palm to her. She felt that rumble of darkness again, like it was skirting the edges of the House library, lurking. “I can feel whatever it is the Cauldron gave you. And I might have let it lie, but then Cassian mentioned the House magic had changed—”

“I don’t have the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” Nesta growled, and this time it was true. She really didn’t have any idea what he meant about the House changing, and Cassian hadn’t said a word to her about it—

Rhys barrelled on, as if she hadn’t spoken at all.

“Your power needs to be controlled,” he said, and if she wasn’t convinced of his arrogance, she’d have sworn that concern shaded his words. “You may not believe me, but you’re my sister-in-law now. I came to check that you and Elain were both well, for Feyre’s sake if nothing else.” He ran his hand over his hair, took a breath. “I want to see if Elain—”

“Stay away from her,” Nesta hissed.

“She may need a healer—”

“What she needs is to be kept as far away from all of you as possible.”

“‘All of you’?” he echoed darkly. “And does that include Cassian? Shall I tell him to stay away, too?”

Nesta folded her arms, refused to answer. The ice that had burrowed deep into her bones reared, and a chill skirted down her spine as pressure began to build in her fingertips, pushing against her skin, begging for release. It felt like… destruction, pure and simple. Nesta clenched her fists, taking a deep breath in an effort to force the burning cold back down again, right into the deepest recesses of herself, and when she looked up and met Rhysand’s eye, she saw his lips thin, and felt his own power rumbling in answer as her own battled to stay present.

Those starless eyes were utterly flat as he curled his hands around the carved wooden arm rests of his chair.

And then she felt something brush against her— against her mind.

It felt like claws, sharp enough to tear through the fabric of her thoughts, like he might crack her open to see what was hidden inside.

The sound that left her was one of horror as she stumbled backwards, her spine flush with the wall as she pinned the High Lord with a ferocious glare. Her palms were flat against the wood-panelled wall, the fire in her burning, and even though Rhysand’s eyes remained steady - like he was trying hard not to startle her - there was a tendril of shadow, no more substantive than mist, still pressing at the boundaries of her mind— boundaries she’d never noticed as a human.

Never needed to notice.

The hair on her arms rose, her skin pebbled as she fought to control her breathing. She knew Rhysand could enter minds, but he hadn’t ever tried to enter hers before. That brush of power felt unnervingly like a hand, tapping softly at the mental barrier she had unwittingly constructed around her mind, and it was enough to make her blood run cold— colder than the ice inside her ever could.

A snarl ripped free of her.

“Nesta, you need to learn control—“ he began.

“Leave,” she hissed.

“This is my house,” Rhysand tossed back.

Nesta glanced once to the windows— the sunlight outside, the city that she didn’t want to see any closer. Something inside her recoiled, and yet still, she scowled as she pushed away from the wall.

“Then I’ll leave,” she spat. “I’ll leave this whole damned place, and when Feyre returns, you can be the one to tell her why her sister is lost somewhere in Prythian.”

Rhysand gritted his teeth, his starless eyes cold and ruthless as he pushed to his feet. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he gave her one long, lingering look that scorched. With an elegant hand, he straightened his black shirt, a deep frown heavy on his brow as disapproval radiated from him in waves. Whatever fraction of warmth he’d managed to conjure before, it was gone now.

“Good day, then,” he said sharply.

Nesta didn’t answer, only watched him march past her to leave before she slammed the door closed behind him.

***

Velaris was a beauty in the sunlight.

The river gleamed like the shattered surface of a diamond, shifting with the current, and as Cassian looked out over its banks from ground level, he realised how much he had missed it. Missed this, losing himself in the same city he’d spent fifty years fighting to leave. He hadn’t thought at all how much he might miss this place during those long years Rhys was under the mountain, but now, as he tilted his head back and filled his lungs, he swore he’d never forget again.

From somewhere in the distance, he could hear the sound of the market, a thousand voices on the wind like chimes, and the air itself was perfumed with lemon verbena and sea salt. Cassian took another deep breath of it, leaning his forearms on the railing overlooking the river, and thanking the Mother that he was able to stand there on that bridge at all.

Grateful— so grateful that the city had survived Hybern’s attack, and he had survived Hybern’s throne room.

His wings twitched at the memory. The flight down had been a strain on the freshly-healed membrane, but the burning he’d felt had been one of muscles remembering what it was to work, not pain. He’d felt the wind on his face and the elation fizzing in his blood, and for an hour he’d wandered the city before heading to the Palace of Thread and Jewels to place an order for a handful of dresses that didn’t seem too dissimilar to what Nesta had worn below the wall. He’d ordered some for Elain too, and charged the lot to Rhys’ account. And now, he was content to merely stand by and watch, to let the city roll by as the sun warmed his face, resting his wings as he relished the ache.

It was there, looking out over the Rainbow, that a familiar scent was carried to him on the wind.

“I don’t need a nursemaid, you know,” Cassian said dryly, keeping his eyes fixed on the city before him.

He could practically hear Mor roll her eyes as she joined him at the edge, looping an arm through his and pulling him away from the railing. Beneath the sun, she was practically gilded, her blonde hair shining almost the exact same shade as the golden necklace around her neck. She nudged him in the ribs with an elbow as she nodded to his wings and scowled.

“I heard you’d flown down here and had to check for myself.” She huffed. “Az is going to win the bet, isn’t he?”

Cassian laughed softly. “Sorry?” he offered, stretching his wings with a grin. There was only a little tug of pain now, and he was certain that he’d be back to flying miles a day within a few short weeks, well within the timeframe Az had set when he’d bet Mor those ten gold coins.

“I don’t know whether or not to be insulted,” Cassian continued, letting Mor lead him across the bridge and into the winding city streets. “Az had more confidence in me than you did.”

“It’s nothing to do with confidence,” Mor protested, her painted lips parting as her jaw dropped. “I just didn’t want you to push yourself too hard.”

It was Cassian’s turn to nudge her in the ribs. He’d almost forgotten how easy it was between them— the banter of friends who had known one another so long. And yet, he’d always thought that when Mor smiled and laughed, there were no secrets to be had between them. Nothing they failed to share. He turned his head to the side as they walked and studied her, wondering what else she’d kept close to her chest all this time.

“Drink?” she suggested, pausing at the threshold of a riverfront cafe, tilting her head towards the round wooden tables shaded by pale yellow umbrellas. Lemon trees were dotted between tables, citrus-scented candles already lit in the centre of each.

Cassian nodded, letting himself be herded towards a table at the back, and within ten minutes - like the staff had dropped everything in their rush to serve members of their Lord’s circle - Mor was seated with her back to the river, cold drink in hand as, idly, she stirred the crushed ice with a straw. Cassian didn’t know whether he wanted to grimace or not; the recognition he received on the street had buoyed him once, made him feel like the world lay at his feet.

It felt sour, now.

He shook his head, fingers curling around a tall glass of water. Gratefully he drank, but still, he couldn’t stop the curiosity from taking hold whenever he looked over at the blonde he’d come to view as a sister.

Really— what else had Mor neglected to tell him over the centuries?

“So,” he said, leaning back in his seat after letting the silence stretch for a beat too long. “Are you ever going to tell me about the human you mentioned back in Illyria?”

Mor’s face fell. Her fingers slackened around the edge of her glass. “Cass…”

He shook his head. “Come on. Don’t you think it’s been secret long enough?”

She hesitated, the bracelets at her wrists sliding down towards her elbow with a musical clink as she tucked an errant piece of hair behind her ear. He’d known her long enough to know well that it was one of her tells— an easy way of avoiding eye contact. For a moment he was sure that she was going to leave him sitting in silence, her eyes never straying from the ice beginning to melt in her drink, but then, so quietly he barely heard her, Mor said:

“We met during the war.”

Cassian felt his entire body still. Mor’s eyes were dark, like the memory alone veiled them with grief, and each word seemed to tear its way up her throat, like she had to force her tongue to shape the words.

“I was in love— so deeply I thought the world might stop turning if we were parted. I was so sure that once the war was over, we’d be together. We’d be happy, for whatever amount of time fate granted us. And I was prepared to give up everything. To leave here. To leave you, and Rhys, and Az, and never look back. I was ready to leave it all.” A pause. Heavy, loaded with hurt so many centuries old. “And then the wall went up.”

Her voice caught; stuttered.

“It took me years to find a way through, and when I did… it was too late.”

Cassian swore he could feel her loss radiating from her even now, and his heart twisted with sympathy as he said, gently, “Tell me about him.”

Still, Mor didn’t look up. Slowly she reached out, dragged a finger around the rim of her glass as if searching for something to do with her hands.

“She was a queen.”

She.

Cassian blinked.

The words stalled on his tongue, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for the right thing to say. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had his fair share of lovers of both sexes over the years, but Mor had kept this secret so close to her chest that he’d had no idea. Not even the faintest suspicion. And a queen…

He supposed it made sense now, why Mor had sneered so decidedly at the human queens they’d met in the Archeron manor.

With a frown carving a deep line between his brows, slowly Cassian leaned forward and placed his hand on Mor’s wrist, watching as her fingers stilled on the edge of her glass.

“I’m sorry,” he said after a moment. “And I’m sorry that you felt you couldn’t tell me.”

“It was just… easier to keep things the way they were,” she shrugged. Her eyes remained fixed on her drink, on the table beneath it. “It hurt, Cass. To know that she lived her life and then just… died. Without me.” Pain limned her face, tightened her jaw and made her voice a whisper. “Their lives are so brief— so fleeting. Everything I said before… I was just trying to protect you.” Another shrug punctuated her words, and at last - at last - Mor looked up. Her eyes were wide. “Maybe I didn’t go about it in the best way…”

Cassian couldn’t stop the snort that escaped him.

Mor’s eyes rolled, her huff soft as she folded her arms and rested them on the table. “Nesta and I won’t suddenly be the best of friends, but I can admit that I was wrong. I just… didn’t want to see you hurt.”

“I know,” Cassian said, shrugging as he rested an elbow on the arm of the wooden chair, curling his hand into a fist beneath his cheek. “But she’s my mate, Mor.”

It was the first time he’d said the words out loud to her, and although a shade crossed her brown eyes, she didn’t seem shocked. Her sigh was so quiet it was masked by the breeze.

“I know,” she echoed. When Cassian opened his mouth to ask how, blithely she waved a hand. “Truth, remember?” She smiled wryly. “I knew the moment she was tipped out of that Cauldron.”

He shook his head. “I felt it long before that.”

Mor hummed, welcoming the way the conversation shifted, tilted away from the parts of her left most vulnerable. “It wasn’t as strong then. Her mortality… it dimmed it, masked it just like the wall dampens our powers when we cross the border.”

And yet, Cassian thought, it didn’t really matter, did it? The how or why or when. He felt it now, stronger than ever, and as though he was pulled by an invisible string, his head turned, looking out across the river to the mountains on the other side of the city— to the House built right into the rock.

The windows gleamed, reflected the sun. And he wondered… which one did she sit behind? And how far was the distance between them now? Could he measure it in heartbeats?

“I miss her,” he said when he tore his eyes away. “I saw her this morning, and yet I miss her. What the fuck is that?”

Mor reached out to grasp his hand, and when he looked, he swore he saw tears linger behind her eyes, silver lining her lashes.

“You’re lucky” she said. “So lucky, Cass.”

He didn’t feel especially lucky, and yet, as he looked back to the House…

Cassian pushed away from the table.

“Yeah,” he said softly, nodding slowly. And as he stretched his wings and shot Mor a wry smile, he looked back across the city to the House and felt it pulling him back, a line in his chest as tight as a bow string. With one last look, and one last smile, Cassian looked to the woman he’d known for so many centuries and turned his back.

Decidedly he said,

“I’m going home.”

***

It was with aching wings that Cassian landed smoothly on the roof of the House, yet he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he tilted his head back and took a last look at the sky, the sun beating down on his skin. The wind ran fingers through his hair, brushed his cheeks, and Cassian savoured it: the elation that came with flying, that feeling that tasted so much like freedom.

It had been harder, flying up from the city rather than down. The muscles that had only slightly pulled with exertion before were protesting now, as if to remind him that he still had a little way to go before being back to full strength, but—

It didn’t matter.

The sun was shining, the day was warm and beautiful, and he’d just taken his first proper flight in weeks. As he entered the House in search of Nesta - because wasn’t he always in search of her these days? - he didn’t think there was anything the Mother could throw at him that could ruin his good mood.

And then he found her.

Nesta was curled on the sofa in the library, her legs tucked beneath her, like she wanted to make herself as small as possible. Though a book lay open in her lap, pages splayed, every line of her was stiff and weighted with tension, like she’d waded into a lake with rocks in her pocket. Her eyes didn’t move across the page— didn’t move at all in fact, not even to glance his way when he entered the room. Nesta kept her attention on the page before her, staring down like she wanted the entire room to swallow her.

Suddenly, Cassian felt like his heart was in his throat.

The grin that had been plastered to his face dropped, his steps slowing, as if he suddenly felt he had to move slowly.

“Good book?” he asked with a breeziness he didn’t feel, throwing his weight down onto the sofa beside her. Anything to provoke a reaction.

He wanted her to scowl, wanted her to glare at him, to ask him what he did with all that battlefield grace when he wasn’t using it. Come on, his eyes seemed to say when they looked her way.

Nesta said nothing.

“I went to a dressmaker today,” he said lightly, casting an arm wide and letting it rest on the back of the sofa. His fingers were an inch from brushing her shoulder, and gods, he longed to close that distance and let his skin brush hers, even if it was just for a moment.

Nesta blinked.

“Maybe you could come with me next time. Let her take your measurements properly.”

“No,” Nesta answered quickly, stiffly, her eyes still fixed on the pages of her book, like she might find solace there if only she searched hard enough.

“You liked the city before,” Cassian said gently, cutting a glance to the bracelet still tied around her wrist.

The one he’d put there.

The one that, even now, she never took off.

“No.”

Hopelessness was a bitter taste, cresting in his chest like a brutal wave as Nesta turned the page in her book. He was certain she hadn’t read a word since he’d entered, and yet she sniffed and focused her attention entirely on the pages before her, like he wasn’t there at all.

He frowned.

The silence stretched, uncomfortable, and sensing that Nesta wanted nothing but solitude, Cassian sighed before rising from the sofa. He stretched his wings, watching her, waiting for her to ask him to stay— waiting for her to just look at him.

She didn’t.

He didn’t know what had set her off today, but somehow, he didn’t think he’d get an answer even if he asked.

“I’ll… leave you to it, then,” he said uneasily.

Nesta sniffed a little, but still, said nothing.

He wasn’t fool enough to think she’d ask him to stay, and yet still, he hoped. Like a fucking idiot, he hoped that she might turn to him and let him in.  Cassian felt his heart crack, her pain like a razor that sliced into him with her every dejected blink, and his fingers twitched as he fought the urge to fold her in his arms and hold her until everything stopped hurting.

He couldn’t stop himself from leaning over, though, and dropping a kiss to the crown of her head as he rose to his feet. He didn’t miss the way her eyes closed, like part of her wanted to savour it. His hand cradled the back of her head as his lips touched her hair, like he might be able to hold her to his mouth, kiss away the pain. He curled his fingers in her hair before pulling back, giving her a gentle smile as he eased away.

“I’ll be upstairs,” he said.

Briefly, Nesta looked up. She met his eye, her face filled with regret, and it was all Cassian could do to brush a thumb across her cheek before he left— smiling gently, even as his heart broke.

***

“Well, don’t you look terrible.”

Azriel’s voice was a cutting drawl, brutally acerbic as Cassian entered the small sitting room that bridged the gap between his room and the Shadowsinger’s. His brother sat alone, occupying one of the four chairs that had sat before that hearth for centuries now, with Truth-teller balanced in one scarred palm as he inspected the blade. The flat edge, freshly oiled and polished, shone like a mirror.

Cassian sank heavily into the chair that was always reserved for him in this room, allowing the cushions to swallow him as he rubbed his temples between his thumb and forefinger. “Rough day,” he said with a barely-there shrug.

Az lifted a brow. “It’s barely past noon.”

When Cassian didn’t answer, Azriel laid Truth-teller across his knee, and leaned forward as his shadows darted out to wind around the legs of Cassian’s chair.

Nosy fuckers.

“Rough flight?” Az asked.

“Not really.” Cassian shrugged again, more definitive this time. His eyes flicked up. “Don’t worry. You’ll still win your bet.”

Az smiled, wicked, before returning his attention to the weapon in his lap. “Mor will be furious.”

Cassian rolled his eyes. With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair and groaned, dragging a palm down his face. “It’s Nesta,” he said from behind his fingers. “Something’s bothered her today.”

After a moment, Az glanced up from his blade. “Rhys was here earlier.”

Another groan rumbled from somewhere deep in Cassian’s chest, a sound so weary he was astounded he didn’t fold. “How many times do I need to say it,” he muttered. “Pushing her isn’t going to help anybody.”

“You know Rhys,” Az shrugged. “He’s curious. And you know as well as I do that he can’t just sit around and do nothing.”

Cassian tipped his head back. “Sometimes I wish he would. That inability to do nothing got him stuck Under the Mountain fifty fucking years ago, and it’s exactly what’s going to turn around and bite us in the ass now.”

Azriel said nothing. Shrewd, he looked Cassian over, taking in every ounce of tension that lay thick across his frame. A small furrow carved a path between his brows.

“How is she?” he asked.

Cassian shook his head as he straightened in his chair, leaning an elbow on the curved wooden armrest and resting his chin atop his curled fist. “She’s in the library,” he answered. “Never seems to leave it. Like the books are the only thing that can comfort her.”

It’s the only escape I have, she’d told him once. A lifetime ago, in that stable below the wall.

Shadows whispered at Azriel’s ankles as the Spymaster took a final look at Truth-teller before sliding the blade back into the rune-embossed sheath. His eyes carried the echo of concern— not as potent as Cassian’s, but still there was something there, lurking just beneath the hazel, that said Azriel cared in that quiet, unassuming way of his for the woman sitting in silence downstairs.

“This is all new to her,” Az said softly. “She needs time to adjust.”

“She’s drowning, Az.”

Azriel sighed. “It’s not good for her, staying closeted away up here. She needs some fresh air. Needs to see people that aren’t us.”

Cassian stilled.

People that aren’t us.

Something clicked.

“Of course,” he murmured. “She won’t go into the city, but maybe… Maybe I can bring someone to her instead.”

Az looked confused, but Cassian leaned forward in his chair.

“I need you to do me a favour.”

***

The early afternoon light slanted across the library, warm where it fell across the patterned carpets. The room was washed with ochre, bright and rich, and yet—

Nesta hadn’t moved since Rhysand had left, frozen like one the statues that used to grace her father’s gardens.

Motionless and cold as stone, she sat with the same book in her lap that she had been pretending to read when Cassian had returned from the city earlier, the pages unturned, unread, as cracks formed in her chest that felt like valleys. She had watched the sun trace a path across the sky, pretending to read in the hopes it might help her forget all else, but it was useless. Just like the statues in her father’s garden, she was stiff, immovable— her eyes flat and hollow, feeling more like an imitation of life than anything else.

Bitterly, she sighed.

And just when she was about to close the book and give up altogether, the library door opened with a whisper against the carpeted floor. Cassian entered first, shouldering his way through the doorframe, holding the door open for Azriel and, behind him, a woman that Nesta did not recognise. A woman with wings— an Illyrian.

“Hey, Nes,” Cassian said, his voice quiet, like she was a deer he didn’t want to startle.

She blinked— said nothing. Both Azriel and the woman smelled of cold, like snow and wind, and though she wanted to ask so many questions, she couldn’t find the energy to speak.

The stranger stood in the centre of the library, the light gliding smoothly over her burnished skin as warm brown eyes took in the scene before her. With something like wonder on her face she looked at the windows offering a vista of the city below, and only with effort did she tear her attention away, noting the towering shelves that lined the walls before letting her gaze land, finally, on Nesta, sitting curled upon her sofa.

She took one look at her - just one - before turning sharply on her heel and looking up at Cassian and Azriel both. The move exposed her back, and the wings she kept tucked tight against her spine. As Nesta looked, she fought the urge to gasp, smothering the horror as it built. With the sunlight shining at an angle, each raised welt on the stranger’s wings was cast into brutal relief; deep valleys made by old and deliberate wounds appeared all the more vicious in the direct light, and the membrane of her wings was littered with so much scar tissue Nesta thought it was a wonder she could lift them at all.

But the stranger did not seem to care that the sunlight exposed her scars. She merely tilted her head, the movement causing her ruined wings to shift.

“You can go now,” she said simply.

Azriel nodded, slipping back through the door without another word, but Cassian… he hesitated. The stranger put her hands on her hips, a gesture that suggested she would brook no argument as she jerked her head towards the windows, braided ebony hair falling over her shoulder.

“Go down to the city. Go to Windhaven. Go anywhere. Surely you have better things to be doing than supervising a conversation between friends, General.”

Nesta frowned. Friends— she didn’t think she’d ever had many of those, and yet the dark-haired stranger stood there with her damaged wings, her cheeks still flushed from the cold of wherever she’d been before, and declared herself Nesta Archeron’s friend. She blinked against the strangeness of it, and as she watched, Cassian looked up and met her eye, a glimmer of hope dancing across his face that made some small part of her want to reach out and grasp it, if only to keep that spark in his eyes for a little while longer.

At length, he nodded.

“I’ll be training on the roof if you need me,” he said.

The woman grinned.

“We won’t,” she said, so saccharine it almost pulled a laugh from Nesta’s throat. Even Cassian smiled softly at that, his eyes flicking back to Nesta as if he, too, had sensed the laugh she’d almost loosed. Holding his hands up in surrender, he backed away, slipping through the door without another word. In his wake, the woman turned and offered Nesta a smile that was gentle and soft— kind in a way so few had ever been towards her.

“Nesta?” she said, walking slowly across the library floor. “It’s me. Emerie.” She gave her a small wave. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

There was hesitation in the way Nesta unfolded on that sofa, letting her feet drop to the floor as she sat up straighter. Every move was slow, like she was still waiting for a trick to be revealed. Her eyes darted to the door, but Emerie shook her head.

“They’re gone,” she said with a shrug. “Nosy busy-bodies the pair of them, but I figured it would be good for us to catch up, just the two of us.” She nodded to the sofa, to the empty space that yawned beside Nesta. “May I?”

Nesta didn’t know what to say.

Suddenly, she felt the absurd urge to cry. The encounter with Rhysand that morning had plagued her all day, the words he’d said thrown back at her in the empty silence of the library. If not for Cassian - and Azriel, she supposed - Nesta didn’t think she’d see a single friendly face, what with Elain rarely able to leave her bed, and it was beginning to build now— a kind of loneliness she’d never really felt before, starting to wear her thin.

She looked to the door again, nodding as Emerie sat down, adjusting her wings with stiff movements over the low back of the library sofa.

“Cassian has been kind to me,” Nesta began, “but I’m glad to see another friendly face.”

Emerie’s brow furrowed. “Are they in short supply around here?”

Nesta shrugged. “You could say that.”

Her eyes travelled to Emerie’s wings, to the scars right down the centre of each. The injuries were a mirror of one another, the jagged edges and raised tissue in the exact same place, like somebody had taken a careless hand to each wing with purpose. Emerie’s face turned a shade paler as she watched Nesta take in those deliberate wounds.

“My father is a cruel man,” she said in explanation, as if it were the only thing that needed to be said.

Behind her ribs, Nesta felt her heart constrict.

“So was my mother,” she whispered in answer. Her eyes went to the scar on her thumb, the brutal reminder of all she’d endured. “And my grandmother, too.”

Emerie pressed a hand to that scar on Nesta’s thumb, as if she might be able to mask it somehow. “I trust they’re gone now?” Nesta nodded, and Emerie patted her hand lightly, like the news pleased her. “Good. Maybe soon, my father will be too.”

Her voice was blithe and dry, and yet there was still a spark in her deep brown eyes, one that Nesta suspected Emerie had fought hard to rekindle. She studied the woman before her— Emerie’s scars so much more obvious and devastating than Nesta’s own, and yet… Emerie had written her letters, had found joy in her books. Was still living, despite it all.

“How do you…” Nesta started. Failed.

How do you carry on?

How do you open your eyes each morning and still drag yourself from bed, despite everything you’ve endured?

Emerie seemed to understand anyway.

“He gave me life,” she answered, “but that doesn’t mean he can bend me to his will. He might have broken me once, but that doesn’t mean I am without value.” She shuddered, cleared her throat. “And besides, broken things can always be mended. And they are always stronger afterwards.” She met Nesta’s eyes without fear, and if she noticed the silver there, she said nothing. After a moment, her dark eyes sparked. “But I didn’t come here to cry, Nesta Archeron from Below the Wall.”

She said it like it was a title, and Nesta couldn’t help the wry huff of a laugh that escaped her.

“Then why are you here?” she asked with a raised brow.

Emerie grinned in answer, lifting up the canvas bag she’d brought and pulling out a book. “I’m here because I’m  sick of talking books with you over letters. They’re so incredibly drawn out and slow. I’d rather do it in person.”

She handed it over, the cover emblazoned with the name Sellyn Drake. Nesta felt the smile pull at her mouth, a feeling so foreign these days that she almost wanted to hide it.

“The smuttiest I could find,” Emerie said before Nesta could bury that smile beneath a glare. When Nesta looked up, the Illyrian’s eyes were practically dancing with glee, and Nesta couldn’t help it. She laughed— laughed, for the first time since Hybern.

She’d almost forgotten what it felt like.

She felt her face drop, felt heat build behind her eyes. Not the burn of the silver fire, but the warmth of tears threatening to spill, and Emerie leaned over, patted her on the hand once again, as if to tell her it was okay— to cry if she needed to.

Nesta shook her head, forced away her tears. Emerie smiled softly, and as if already knowing what they needed, a silver tea service appeared on the low table before the sofa, steam rising in curls from a decorated silver teapot. Courtesy of the House, Nesta assumed, and for a moment her mind went back to what Rhysand had said earlier, about the House’s magic changing.

She hadn’t asked for the tea.

And yet there it was, two porcelain cups sitting beside a bowl piled high with sugar cubes, a pair of small silver tongs lying perfectly straight alongside. Nesta tilted her head, frowned as the tea fragranced the air, but said nothing as Emerie clapped with delight and reached over to lift the teapot, filling both porcelain cups before reaching for the sugar.

“You know, I was surprised,” Emerie began after a moment, dropping a cube of sugar into her tea,  “when the almighty General of the Night Court came into my father’s shop and asked for book recommendations.”

“Like I said,” Nesta shrugged, leaving her own tea to cool. “He’s been kind.”

Emerie raised a brow. “More than kind, I’d wager.”

Nesta felt the heat of a blush on her cheeks, but flipped open the cover of the Sellyn Drake novel instead of looking up and meeting her friend’s eye. Still, Emerie pressed.

“Come on, Nesta. You’ve got to be sleeping with him.”

Nesta’s mouth dropped open— in disbelief, in protest, in laughter; she wasn’t sure. At length she took her head, dipping her gaze again.

“No,” she answered at last.

Emerie almost choked on her tea. “What? Why?” she asked, her voice rising in pitch as disbelief wrote itself across her face. “Nesta, he’s enamoured with you. And you obviously feel the same.”

Nesta waved a hand, refusing to focus on how obvious she apparently was. “Before, maybe. But it’s different now.”

“It’s easier now,” Emerie countered. “Surely.”

Nesta shook her head once more. “No, it’s not. I’m not…” she trailed off. Didn’t know how to say it. “I’m not who I was before.”

Emerie shrugged as she set down her tea. “I think he’d love you anyway.”

It was Nesta’s turn to choke.

That word— love.

She’d stopped him from saying it. Hadn’t been able to bear it; didn’t think she could stand to hear the words fall from his lips, to hear him tell her he loved her, when the woman he had fallen for was gone.

“I’m not me anymore,” Nesta whispered.

“The Nesta Archeron that wrote me letters to thank me for lending her books…” Emerie reached out, taking Nesta’s hands in her own. Her palms were warm, and Nesta wanted to pull away, afraid that the flames might make an appearance, but Emerie held tight. “I’m certain that I’m talking to her right now.”

She pushed before Nesta could protest.

“I know what it is to be… irrevocably changed by someone else’s hand. After my father cut my wings…” She shook her head. “I don’t know what happened to you in Hybern. Azriel wouldn’t tell me anything beyond the basics when I asked before he brought me here, but I think I know a little of how you’re feeling. I felt like my father had robbed me of everything that made me who I was.”

“They couldn’t heal them? Your wings?” Nesta thought of Cassian’s wings; entirely rebuilt. The way he’d looked so mournfully to the windows over the past few days, like the inability to fly had been a wound in itself. She didn’t know how Emerie had coped, if flight was as integral to the Illyrians as Cassian had made out.

Emerie shrugged. “Not in Illyria. And certainly not while my father lives. Maybe someday.”

Silence fell, but not uncomfortable. Emerie offered her a small smile.

“My point is that I remembered who I was, eventually.” Her eyes glinted. “And besides, I don’t think the General is a fickle man. I mean it, Nesta. I saw his face when I arrived. He’s exactly the same as when he walked into my shop and asked what kind of books a mortal woman might enjoy.”

Emerie’s face was soft, and Nesta glanced to the door as if expecting him to walk through it, and a small, tiny voice at the back of her mind, whispered that maybe… maybe he would still love her, regardless of what had changed.

And as she looked at Emerie, suddenly…

Suddenly, the darkness didn’t feel quite so impenetrable. Like there might be a crack somewhere that would let the light in.

“Now,” Emerie said, sinking back against the cushions and letting her wings stretch the little her scars would allow. “Are we going to keep being maudlin? Or are we going to discuss this?”

She held up the Sellyn Drake novel with one hand, its pages gilded by the afternoon sun. Nesta managed a smile, reaching for her tea and lifting the porcelain to her lips as she jerked her chin at the book Emerie held aloft.

“Go on then,” she said. “Show me just how smutty it gets.”

***

After a handful of hours, when the sun had gone down and darkness gathered on the horizon, Cassian ventured back downstairs.

It had been agony, forcing himself to remain on that roof, throwing the same punches and tossing the same daggers in a cycle, and over the course of the entire afternoon he’d tried hard to keep his mind away from the library beneath his feet. Away from the woman inside it.

Nesta hadn’t left the library yet, and Emerie hadn’t ventured upstairs to ask whether Azriel could winnow her back home.

Cassian wondered whether something had gone wrong.

After retrieving the dagger he’d just thrown from the chest of a training dummy, he abandoned the pretence and headed inside, his boots heavy on the stone floor. With each step the library grew nearer, and the silence in the House was so complete even his breaths seemed to echo.

The door was still firmly closed when he reached the hallway, the sconces lining the walls glowing gently as he approached.

And as Cassian reached for the door handle…

Nesta laughed.

The sound drifted through the thick wood of the library door, the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard. It was enough to make him weak, and fuck, he’d die for that laugh.

He gripped the handle to steady himself, fingers curling around the metal, but he didn’t turn it. Even though he wanted so desperately to open that door and see her smiling…

Softly he drew away from the door, smiling to himself as Emerie’s laugh joined Nesta’s. Another peal of it rang through the hall, following him as he turned his back and walked away, chasing his steps as he headed right back the way he came. And as the sun fell fully behind the mountains and left the House of Wind in shadow, Cassian looked over his shoulder and heard that laugh again, quieter now but no less precious, and felt hope bloom in his chest.

Beautiful, fragile, perfect.

Taglist: @asnowfern @podemechamardek @c-e-d-dreamer @lady-winter-sunrise @starryblueskies7 @melphss @sv0430 @that-little-red-head @misswonderflower @fwiggle @tanishab @xstarlightsupremex @burningsnowleopard @hiimheresworld @wannawriteyouabook @hereforthenessian @valkyriesupremacy @kale-theteaqueen @moodymelanist @talkfantasytome @pyxxie

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 84)

N was on patrol around the perimeter of the workshop, flying low and flitting through buildings as he surveyed the streets both hands now claws as he gripped onto ancient concrete and tail whipping behind him.

It reminded him a lot of hunting, only it wasn't for food, he wouldn't dare touch the oil that came out of the infected, or give it to any one of his family, who knows what it might do to them.

“Update.” A gruff, southern accented voice reverberated through his software, a radio attached to his audio receptors that was far more long-range then anything inbuilt, though now he had to answer to Dale… who… did not particularly like him.

“Clear.” He parroted into the radio, wincing as feedback crackled into his systems, he swore he was doing it on purpose, every time he signed off it would be a split second of screeching feedback… he was going to go deaf at this rate.

He wanted Hal back… But he was still in the bunker, keeping the peace in this time of unrest with his branch of the WDF.

Dale's team was the smallest, it was Dale himself and four or five other guys, the only drones in the whole bunker that had weapons at a higher caliber then 9mm. Using fully automatic rifles that ate through ammo like he did oil.

They didn't talk to him, they rarely even looked at him, unless it was to give him dirty looks as he walked past. Most workers had gotten used to his presence, were even friendly now (Uzi's pregnancy announcement may have helped a bit with that.) But the group he was now working with? Seemed to hate his guts.

It wasn't anything he wasn't used to. So he just bore with it, and did what he always did… not say anything.

Uzi would probably tell him to have a backbone and actually say something about it and stand up for himself, but wouldn't lashing out prove that their view of him was correct? That he was aggressive and dangerous and couldn't be trusted?

He sighed as he flew back towards the workshop, finding nothing out of place for the time being.

Uzi was finishing up a preliminary sketch of the shuttle, 600 charge pods cramed into 230 feet of real estate, the smallest she could possibly do with all they needed to make sure they could all survive a decent period in space.

Which…. was still utterly huge, about as large as the largest commercial aircraft ever made on Earth based from her research, and quite a bit larger then any of their early space shuttles.

But they weren't working from scratch at least, and the thrusters on the landing pods were overpowered as it was, so all they needed was more of them…

So the next course of action was getting the rest of the pods into the workshop, long trips into previously uncharted territory to retrieve them, risky, but risk didn't matter if without it, they'd be buried under flesh.

She sighed, running a hand along her destended stomach, at 4 months now, her core was a light, pastel pink and the inside was constantly shifting and moving. Trying to hide anything at this point was laughable, she had the body shape of a pear and it was only made worse by her already small size, a tired grumble escaped her. As her core gave a hearty kick.

“I hear you…” She mumbled, leaning back in her chair and closing her eyes breifly. She'd begun to get weird looks, which made sense, drones normally didn't get any bigger during pregnancy, but no one said anything yet, either trying to be polite or just not caring enough she didn't know… nor care.

“Ya alright?” A gruff, friendly voice wafted into her ears, and she opened her eyes to come face to hair with a bushy brown beard.

“Hal? What are you doing out here?” She asked, turning so that she could look at him properly instead of upside down.

“Shift just got done inside, wanted to check up on you and N, is he here?” He placed a hand on her shoulder, cocking his head.

“I think he just finished his patrol, should be on his way back.”

“Great! Wanted to invite ya guys down to the house, my wife wanted to meet both of ya properly.” He clapped his hands together cheerfully before looking around a moment.

“Where’s the little one?” He asked, and Uzi gave him a small smile in return.

“V and Lizzy have her, she shouldn't be out here in the cold so much.” She explained, before a shiver went down her own spine.

“Neither should you, can't be healthy for the baby.” She blushed, she forgot sometimes that literally everyone knew now.

“I'm fine. Seriously, N worries enough… and everyone else now, ugh.” She reminisced, on a day that N and V were both busy, Thad and Lizzy escorted her from the nest to the workshop, Thad's coat wrapped around her despite her insisting she was fine.

“Sounds like ya have good freinds.” Hal replied, smirking.

“We do.” Came a third voice from the doorway, N leaning into the curtain with a smile, Tera in his arm, giggling as she gripped her little bat plush.

“Mama!” She squealed, and Uzi chuckled as she squirmed in N's arms, trying to get to her.

“N! There you are.” Hal slapped him on the back, a beaming smile on his face, Tera immediately leaned forward to grab his beard. “I was just telling Uzi that I wanted ya guys over! My wife's been asking about ya!”

“Oh! Yeah! That would be awesome!” N beamed back, before glancing at Uzi and backpedaling slightly.

“I-If Zi feels well enough, so that's up to her.”

“Mmm, smart boy, happy wife, happy life.” Hal commented, N blushed slightly, smiling to himself.

“I'm good N, yeah, we can stop by.” Uzi Confirmed, rising up out of her seat and stretching “not much more I can do tonight anyway.”

“Yay!” Came childishly from N, and Uzi rolled her eyes fondly.

Next ->

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝓘 𝓛𝓲𝓴𝓮 𝓨𝓸𝓾 (say it back) [𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑]

He's the introvert tall guy dressed in black who always picks you up from work, makes sure you drink enough water, and that you stay out of trouble. In a way, some might think it must be tiring to have a partner that's just so different than yourself- but he wouldn't have it any other way.

Tags/Warnings: Girly!Reader, Introvert!Jungkook, non-idol AU, opposites attract AU?, established relationship, Angst, Major Fluff, some drama, Slice of Life (like Good Girl AU for example), mc is kook's biggest simp, kook is kind of overwhelmed by her love sometimes, but it's fine they both cute

Length: No chapter limit set. Story will simply update randomly and focus on asks/requests.

━━━━━━━━━━.~°♡°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

You run into the bedroom where Jungkook is currently playing his video game, barely covered by a towel, hair up in a bun that's pretty much held together only by hopes and wishes.

"Jungkook!" You call out excitedly, and he pauses his game in a well used-to manner, making space so you can hop onto his lap, his controller falling onto the floor as he looses grip on it- more so concerned with holding you on his legs as you wiggle around. "Shower with me." You demand, and he sighs, looking over to his TV screen, inner battle hard to decide. "Jungkookie, please!" You whine, and he plays with his lip piercing.

"You know what happened last time." He worries. "You almost hit your head when you slipped-" He reminds you, but you just roll your eyes.

"There's nothing in it anyways-" You start jokingly, but he instead flicks his fingers against your forehead scoldingly, reminding you that he's not too fond of your own demeaning jokes against yourself, even if you don't out any honesty in those words. "-Kookie please, you've been at it for hours and I wanna have some quality time with my hot sexy anime boyfriend!" You huff, and he frowns a bit at that, confused.

"I'm your what now?" He wonders, and you laugh, running your fingers through his by now pretty long hair. He himself doesn't really know what you see in him- but he knows you love both him, and his appearance a lot, no matter if he just woke up, if he's sick, or if he's looking his best.

'You're like, my biggest boy-crush, ever!', he remembers you confessing to him one night in his apartment as you had shared pizza- just after he'd opened the glass bottle of strawberry ramune for you with one hand. 'like, please crush me with those hands, mister!' you had dramatically whined, and back then, he had taken it as nothing but playful joking.

Oh how dense he'd been.

"No really! You kind of look like Miyamura Izumi from Horimiya-" You tell him, pink sparkling acrylics combing over his scalp in a way that would make him purr, if he was a cat. "-a bit more buff and with more tattoos, but still. We gotta watch that show by the way, it's so cute!" You giggle, and he swallows down his own shyness creeping up. Even after half a year of dating you, he's not yet used to your boldness when it comes to complimenting him. He's not really used to it. Maybe never will.

But then again, he also thought of you as nothing but a hollow barbie doll come to life, in the beginning. Come to discover, you're not at all empty inside- but filled to the brim with color, by now having started to paint his life and even himself in more hues than he's ever really thought existed.

"Please.!" You try again, attempting your best puppydog eyes- though he's a little distracted by your cleavage dangerously exposed, towel hardly holding on. "Oh! I bought a new brand of body-scrub, by the way! Strawberry sugar, the one you said you liked when I first came over?" You remember, and he nods, sharing the excitement a lot more subtly than you, who's buzzing just at the thought of your new purchase.

"I remember that. It smelled really nice- but I thought it was discontinued?" He wonders, pulling out the hairtie from your bun to make a proper one for you.

"Oh it is! It's a different brand this time, but it smells pretty much the same.. and the container is like, bio-something, like, it's not plastic-"

"Biodegradable?" He asks with a smile, and you snap your fingers at him.

"So smart, those glasses really aren't just to look good." You praise, and he chuckles. "Anyway I'll scrub your pretty skin down top to bottom if you shower with me and maybe give me a handjob?" You ask, and he sighs a bit bashful. Sex is a big part of your relationship- you're very open with it, show your love in a more physical way than he does. He's never really been a cuddler, or someone to hold hands with- even kissing in public had been nothing but a myth to him prior to dating you.

These days? He can't seem to escape you- and he doesn't want to, either.

Sex has turned from something.. well, somewhat enjoyable to him, to something exciting and even romantic, even during the most messy encounters. It's like he's gotten a unique craving just for the taste of your way of love him- a craving only you can really satisfy.

"I'll even suck you off-" You start again, and at that he averts his eyes, shaking his head with a laugh and red ears, showing clearly that he's caving in, making you laugh as you get up- towel dropping, leaving you completely naked as you run into the bathroom, only turning around for a second to peek around the doorway into the bathroom, bare chest clearly visible as you see him pick up the towel. "oops." You tease, and at that, he suddenly dashes towards you-

easily catching your naked body in his arms as he closes the bathroom door behind him.

[arc852]

Shattered Reflections Ch. 2

Chapter Summary: Skizz delegates himself to finding them some food and water. But as he is searching, he comes across some giants.

Warnings: amnesia, frustration, and worry

Word Count: 2559

Part 1 | AO3 Link

Sorry for the long wait! But chapter two is finally here! And hopefully this story will be updated more frequently now. I hope you guys enjoy!

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 The wood had already been rotting away, so it was easy for Skizz and Joel to hack away enough of it in order to make an entrance. Inside was actually pretty roomy. The hollowness of the tree went up a good amount, making the ceiling plenty high for the two of them. That was something Skizz had been a bit nervous about. He was a pretty tall guy for a borrower after all. But thankfully, low ceilings and tight spaces didn’t seem to be a problem in this tree.

 The actual area itself was nice and big too. Enough for him and Joel to comfortably be in the same space. He looked over to Joel, noticing how the other borrower seemed to be in deep thought. “Whatcha thinkin’?” Skizz asked, watching as Joel blinked out of his thoughts and turned to look at Skizz.

 “Huh? Oh, just thinking of what we can do in here to make it more…I guess homely? Livable?” Joel waved his hand around. “Whatever you want to say.”

 That was fair. Despite the space, it was still a hollowed out tree. It was dark, dusty, musty, and dirty. Not too different from walls though, if Skizz was being honest. So it shouldn’t take them much to get it cleaned and ready to live in. 

 “We can probably use some of the fallen leaves to get this dust out of here.” Skizz suggested, kicking some of the dust around as he mentioned it. 

 Joel nodded along but was mainly focused on one of the walls. He squinted at it and then held his hands up in a sort of square shape. “That would probably work.” He said in regards to Skizz’s suggestion. “I was also thinking we could hack away here for a window, in order to get some light in here. Maybe one on the other side as well.” Oh, so that’s what Joel was doing. Picturing what a window would look like. Skizz couldn’t help but agree.

 “Yeah, can’t exactly start a fire in here for some light.” The tree would quickly burn down if they tried. Though, speaking of a fire, it might be good to get one going soon. Outside, of course, and far enough away from the tree. They also had food to worry about and one of them would have to take a trip down to the river to get some water at some point.

 As Skizz looked toward Joel, who still seemed to be in thought about this new space, Skizz decided he would take it upon himself to worry about those things as Joel dealt with their shelter. He decided to say as much. “Hey, as long as it’s okay with you, how about we split up? You can work on the shelter and I’ll worry about getting us some food and water.” Skizz suggested.

 Joel blinked and looked back over at Skizz. “Oh…yeah, that sounds good.” Joel said with a nod. “Thanks Skizz. Let me know if you need any help.”

 Skizz nodded back and grinned. “Same to you!”

 As Joel got back to his thoughts, Skizz walked back outside and grabbed some of the bark they tore away from the trunk, crafting a pick-like tool out of that and the pebbles on the ground. With a real tool now in hand Skizz looked around the area, searching for anything that might give them a steady food source.

 He wasn’t having much luck from here though, so he decided to start walking, leaving the shaded area under the tree for the first time. He decided to head toward the river. If anything he could get some water to bring back, but he was also hoping for some wild crops that had maybe decided to grow alongside the river.

 It was quite the trek away and Skizz felt a bit anxious leaving his buddy behind, even if just for a little bit. But he knew Joel was safe inside of the tree. Safer than Skizz, actually. Skizz was the one in danger, out in the open fields like this. He gripped his pick tighter, keeping an eye out not only for food but for any potential dangers.

 Thankfully, he made it to the river with no problems. Well, except for one. As Skizz walked closer to the water, he had the sudden realization that he didn’t actually have a way of getting any water back over to their base. Skizz facepalmed at his own stupidity before looking around the river bed for anything he might be able to use to make a makeshift bucket.

 There was only mud, dirt, and a few sticks around. Maybe if he compacted some mud and dirt together into a bowl shape? But no, the water would probably just seep into it. Skizz sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It looked like he would have to wait on the water for now. He turned his focus onto the area by the river, trying to see if anything crop-like was popping out of the ground. He didn’t see anything though, the bank of the river only seeming to hold mud and some weeds. It seemed he was leaving completely empty handed.

 “Great.” He muttered to himself as he turned around and started heading back toward the tree. “You had one job Skizz…” He prepared himself for Joel to make fun of him for not making or bringing anything to put the water in but as he walked, slowly, the ground below him started to shake.

 It started out as faint tremors. Barely noticeable. But it only seemed to continue and grow. Skizz stopped and looked around, knowing that the shaking meant something big was headed this way. He kept his eyes peeled for some kind of animal, maybe a cow or sheep. But his eyes widened as he noticed, in the distance, a borrower’s worst fear.

 Giants.

 Skizz didn’t even think, diving behind some foliage as soon as he noticed them heading in his direction and hoping they would move past him quickly. His heart beat rapidly in his chest as the giants came upon his hiding spot. There were four of them in total and all four of them were massive. Skizz felt dizzy trying to look up all the way at their faces. It was just his luck though, as the four stopped just short of where he was hidden, now standing only a few feet away from where he was.

 “I still can’t believe X is just starting the season as normal.” One of them said, sounding very frustrated. Skizz shivered at that. He didn’t want to get found by a giant normally but an angry or frustrated one was the lowest on the list. Skizz also couldn’t help but note that he appeared to have giant parrot-like wings folded against his back. Something in the back of his mind told him that meant this particular giant was something called an avian hybrid. The term sounded familiar but Skizz was unsure where he knew that from.

 “I know, I don’t really like it either...But you heard what he said. They’re actually on the server. The best way to find them is to have all of us split up.” The only girl of the group said, as far as Skizz could tell anyway. Again, it was hard to see any of their faces, but he could just make out the fact that she had red hair.

 “I still don’t like it. Having different search parties scouring the server is one thing but having us start as normal? I just…” The one with wings said, his wings drooping a bit behind him as he trailed off. The frustration was still there but Skizz could tell there was now some worry behind it all.

 “We just gotta trust X, right? If they’re on the server, then they’re pretty safe wherever they are.” Another one of the giants said. This one appeared to be using a cane, at least that’s what Skizz thought it was anyway. This giant also appeared to have scars across his body, which Skizz compared to his own. It was weird seeing a giant with so many scars. “Besides, X has a lot more people to think about then just them.” The scarred up giant continued.

 The avian hybrid grumbled. “Yeah, yeah…it doesn’t mean we have to be happy about it though.”

 “We can still spend most of our time looking for them.” The scarred giant said, leaning just a bit more on his cane. “But we should probably find where we want to base too.”

 “...That mountain in front of us looks pretty nice.” The avian pointed out, sounding a bit defeated. 

 “Yeah, maybe the four of us could base around it?” The girl giant said, trying to lift the mood a bit.

  Suddenly, the scarred giant stood up straight and lifted his hand to cup above his eyes. “Wait…is that Mumbo over there?” He sounded excited and that was all the warning any of them got before he took off in that direction. 

 “Wha- Scar!” The one with wings called out, said wings fluffing up as he took off after Scar. Scar, huh? Considering he was calling him the scarred giant in his head, that was quite the accurate name.

 That left the girl and the one giant that hadn’t spoken the entire time they had all been there. He couldn’t help but take in the fact that this giant appeared to be a hybrid as well, though this one was less obvious than the avian. The only thing Skizz could really make out from where he was, was the forked tail hanging limply behind him. Skizz kept watching as the girl placed a hand on the guy’s upper back. “You okay?”

 The guy sighed. “I just…don’t get it. Where are they?” He spoke quietly, his tone confused but also sad. But Skizz was more focused on just how familiar his voice was. It rattled in his ears like he had heard it a million times before. But that wasn’t possible. Why would a giant’s voice be familiar to him?

 He tuned back in just as the girl spoke again. “I don’t know. But we’ll find them, okay?” She was rubbing comforting circles across his upper back now. “We’ll find them.”

 “Yeah…” He said, though he didn’t quite sound convinced, and then both walked away, following after their friends.

 Skizz still refused to move from his hiding spot until he was sure the giants were far enough away. He could still hear them in the distance, which was not ideal, but they shouldn’t be able to see him anymore at least. So Skizz took the chance and ran back to the tree they had both deemed their shelter.

 “Joel! We’ve got a problem!” Skizz shouted as soon as he ran inside the tree, his heart beating fast in his chest. Being so close to the giants must have affected him more than he thought. Joel jumped at Skizz’s sudden entrance and turned to face Skizz with a look of surprise on his face.

 “What? Skizz, what are you on about?” Joel asked with a raised brow, setting the leaf he had been using to dust the area up against the wall.

 Along with his increased heart rate, Skizz’s breaths were heavy from how fast he had run. But he managed to catch it as he continued. “We’ve got giants.”

 Joel’s eyes widened and then narrowed. “What?” He hissed out. Skizz motioned for him to follow and both borrowers exited the tree and rounded the corner a bit. They stayed close to the trunk and Skizz pointed in the direction the giants were still talking in.

 “See? There’s five of them and I think they’re planning on basing on that mountain. Or around it.” Skizz said, recounting what he had heard. He didn’t understand a lot of what they had said, something about trying to find someone maybe? But the most important thing was the fact that they were going to be living so close to the two of them.

 “That’s not good.” Joel said before pulling back. Skizz followed Joel back to the front of the tree. “That’s really close to where we are. Too close.”

 Skizz hummed in agreement. The thought of having the giants so close was nerve-wracking to say the least. “Do we…move?” When Skizz looked back at Joel, the other borrower appeared to be in deep thought. 

 “No, no we got a good thing going for us here.” Joel said, motioning to the tree. It was true, not a lot of trees would be hollowed out already like this one was. And it was the closest tree to their only known water source right now. “But…maybe this is actually a good thing.”

 Skizz blinked. “What? How is this a good thing?” Skizz asked, not understanding. How could giants living so close to them be anywhere close to a good thing? 

 Joel sent him a look. “Skizz, we’re borrowers. What do we do?” Joel asked instead, looking to Skizz to figure out what he already had.

 Skizz frowned but answered. “We borrow.”

 Joel raised an eyebrow. “From?”

 “From gia-oh…” Skizz trailed off, realization hitting him. Joel just laughed and patted him on the back.

 “If they really are basing so close, that means we’ll have easy access to their food and supplies.” Joel continued, looking toward the mountain. The giants had moved, now in sight from their position in front of the tree but still far enough away where they didn’t have to worry. “Looks like we won’t be roughing it out here after all.”

 Skizz nodded, finally seeing the blessing for what it was. But there was still a sense of dread deep down in his gut whenever he thought about borrowing from the giants. It was a strange feeling to have, shouldn’t he be used to it? He’s been a borrower his whole life. Maybe it was the amnesia, or maybe borrowers never got rid of that feeling of fear at the sight of beings larger than them. Skizz felt the latter was more accurate.

 As Joel continued to talk and make plans, Skizz’s gaze couldn’t help but wander back over to the giants. From this angle, he could see them more clearly. And his eyes wouldn’t leave the one with a tail. Now that he could see him more clearly, he was able to see the horns that grew from his head and the claws at the end of his fingers. Even with this updated information though, Skizz still wasn’t sure what kind of hybrid he was.

 He had never seen this giant before in his life. But for some reason, something was pulling on Skizz’s chest. Pounding in his head. Skizz winced as the pounding grew into a headache and he turned away as he rubbed at his head.

 Right, he needed to focus. Food and water. Now that he was back at base, he could use the things lying around to make some sort of bucket to grab water with. As far as food went, they should be fine until they could borrow some from the giants.

 Skizz got to work, tuning back in to what Joel was saying and letting himself forget about the strangely familiar giant.

[kikiswriting7]

Take a Chance ✵ JJK ✵ MYG - 3

✵ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Jungkook

✵Summary: Y/N just move across the world to start her University. She is paired with a roommate who is complete social butterfly and makes a bet, Y/N needs to take more chances. And at the hint of her new found friend, her social and romantic life take a dramatic turn.

✵Tags/Warnings: Smut, College AU, red flag, sexual tension. angst, dirty talking, drinking, friends with benefits, full of cliches, friends to lover, temptation

✵Notes: Hi guys! Took a while to update this on AO3 BUT here you go! Let me know what you think <3

lots of love, Kiki

CHAPTER 3 - DAWN

Once more I wake up with the worst hungover. But this time it feels even worse. What the hell happened for me to get like this? I am still wearing last nights clothes and with make up on.  The last thing I remember is Gabi asking those stupid “Drink If” questions. I groan as I leave the bed holdind my head in between my hands. Ugh Im never touching alcohol again. I get up and go to the bathroom in hopes that washing my face with cold water would chase this terrible feeling away.

I reach the bathroom and splash the ice cold water on my face. The only thing that takes it away is the fogness of yesterdays events and everything comes all at once. Us all getting drunk and deciding to go for a walk at the beach late into the evening. Jungkook showing the constelations holding my hand. Coming back home worse. Falling asleep on the couch. Jungkooks strongs arms carring me to my room. Tucking me into bed and leaving shortly after. I look myself in the mirror with pure shock. 

“Fuck…. Eli” I groan. I gamble that she would’ve slept over and go to Gabi’s room where I find them both laying bed looking at their phones. They both just look over their screens but don’t say a word. 

Gabi moves over a bit and pats over the space in between the two. I crawl to the spot and lay face down on the soft and sweet smelling pillow. I let out a groan. 

“I feel like dying” I say the sound muffled by the pillow. 

“you are not alone sister” I receive gentle taps on my back. I sit back down on the bed facing both of them. 

“I’m so sorry for last night, Eli. I swear I didn’t intend to any of that to happen” I say to her with sorrowfull eyes

“I mean, thank you for saying that. I guess hes not really into me anyway. So its fine. Don’t worry about it.” She shrugs

“I promise I will not do anything with him.” I offer.

“its ok if you do honestly. It good that this bandaid was ripped off sooner rather then later. It would’ve definetly hurt much more.” She shrugs it off. 

“do you still feel like to have that movie night today?” gabi asks “We both totally understand if you don’t” I nod in agreement with her. 

“I can text him not to come. I don’t feel very well anyway. I bet he might not be the best either.”

“I mean, we can still be friends. He geniualy seems like a nice guy, just not interested in me like that. So that’s ok. We can still hang out.” She adds, even though with a sad look on her face. 

I give her a hug laying down on top of her. “Are we good then? I was honestly worried that you would be mad at me”

“We are good, don’t worry” she hugs me back laughing “now get off, you are smashing me” she taps my back and grunts. 

With a smile I lay back down between them. Pulling my own phone out of my pocket. 

My heart races as I see the message I received not too long ago. I gasp and both of them immediately look to find out what cause such a reaction. I spring up and scratch my eyes. 

Gabi sitting next to me and pulling my phone out of my hand reading the text out loud. 

 “Good morning! I was wondering if you are up for coffee? I know a place nearby that is quite good”

She slaps my arm. “why are you not up yet!? Go get ready!” motioning me to hurry up.

“Gabi I feel like death has come for me this morning…. I don’t know If I have the energy to go out right now”

“Girl I don’t care, you are still breathing. Go brush your teeth and change.” She says giving a fake smile. “NOW!”

I look to Eli for support but she just shrugs and goes back to being busy with her phone. 

“plus…” she says with her evil grin  “I already texted him yes.” She shows me the phone “he says he will be here in 10 to pick you up” 

My eyes go wide and yank the phone out of her hand. Reading back the messages. She really did send those messages. Oh my god.

“Im going to kill you” I say under my breath

“Well, better be after you get ready. Chop chop” she claps her hands. 

I immediately get up and rush back to my room trying to fix something else to wear. I exchange the black fluff sweater for a hoodie and try to fix the eye liner from last night that makes me look more like a panda than human. 

Once I think that is good enough I quickly brush my teeth and rush to the door to put on a pair of shoes and leave the house. My keys still in the pocket of my jacket from last night is a blessing. If I rush more then this I think I might be sick. I take a deep breath and get my composure back, taking it easy to reach outside. 

I see Yoongi waiting outside the apartment with his phone in his hand. 

“Hey stranger” I say leaving the building. He looks up and gives a small smile. 

“Was about to text you” he shakes his phone and quickly puts back in his pocket.  

It was a cold day but it was sunny, making it a more pleasureble temperature. The perfect day to not have a hungover. But here I was. 

The walk to the café is pleasant. Indeed its not far from my place and the place looks quite cozy. It full of books and it leads to a nice garden. We find a place at a corner all the way at the end of the place overlooking the garden that must be beautiful during spring and summer. The café was quite busy having breakfast and chitchatting. The atmosphere was defintely inviting to stay hours on end. 

“What is your poison?” he asks me before sitting down

“Honestly, a latte would be a killer right now.” I say following it with a quick thanks.

A few moments later he comes back with a tray with more stuff then I thought he would bring. He places my latte in front of me. 

“I was not sure what you would like right now, but I also got a strawberry short cake. Its yours if you like it.” He takes the iced americano from the tray and the chocolate muffin. 

The cake even though, simple looked perfect. Layers of cake, cream and straberries making the slice very appealing. 

I bite my lip before removing the little plate from the tray giving him a smile “Its actually my absolute favorite. Thank you!” which I only receive a small grin in return. 

“So what have you been up to this weekend?” I ask him between bites of the heavenly cake.

“Nothing much.  I’ve spent most of the night busy trying to fix this track I started to make, other then that nothing much more exciting.” He counters.

“Yeah I wish…” I say sighing getting lost in thought from last night. My heart rushing at the thought of Jungkook. No, I tell myself. Nothing can happen. Even after Eli said it was fine. 

“Rough night for you too?” He asks taking me back to reality.

“I swear I’m never drinking again” and rest my head on my hand. He chuckles 

“Yeah JK said you guys were quite drunk” he says casually. But I almost choke on my hot drink 

“Oh I didn’t know you were friends?” I ask him trying to sound casual but probably failing miserably. 

“yeah we are in the same friend group. Well, that and we all share a house. We’ve all known eachother for some years now.” he says taking his attention back to his half eaten muffin. 

I hope he didn’t see my absolute shocked face. But I honestly don’t think I’ll ever be that lucky. Great. Of course they were friends. Did JungKook say anything else to him? Was this why he was being friendly to me? 

“Ah that’s nice…” which is all I can gather to say. He just nods. 

After some small talk and finishing our food the place seem it got busier, with people coming for brunch. The headache still brewing in my brain not giving me pantience, I pinch the bridge of my nose. 

Yoongi seems to notice “ Hey are you feeling ok?”

“Not really” there is no use in lying right now “To be honest I have the worse hungover.”

“No worries we can hang out more on another day”

“I mean, do you want to come over?” I blurt out as we leave the place “Yesterday night, Gabi, Eli and Kook set up to have a movie chill day, I guess.” Now it was his turn to seem bothered. The frown quickly dissolved from his face as it foes back to its neutral face. 

“What are you guys watching?” He asks

“Honestly, I don’t know… If it were by me I would stay hidden under my blankets and nap the entire afternoon.” I say to him “and I’m not even sure if he will show up, since I guess he also drank a lot last night.” 

“Oh, he will” he quickly replies but before I can ask what he means we reach the apartmetn building again. 

I arch an eyebrow at him after unlocking the door as in question “So are you coming or not?” Looking over my shoulder with the door open.

He doesn’t take long to react, following me back into the building. With a shy smile, I lead the way to the apartment in silence. 

The living room is thankfully empty. Perfect. We sit next to eachother on the couch, and decide that the best thing for hungover cure is to watch random youtube videos. The late morning and afternoon passes fast, we left it to fate to decide what to watch, meaning the suggested tab. And after laughing over funny cats compilations, radom travel vlogs and deciding that Japan is should be everyones number one country in their bucketlist, Gabi comes out of her room walking loudly as if to annouce her arrivel and sporting a grin. 

“Sorry, but you were not responding your texts” she smiles at me “Just to let you know JungKook is on his way, he just called me. By the way very nice to meet you! I’m Gabi” She makes her way to give him a small hug that takes him by surprise. His wide eyes looking over her shoulder in search for help, but all he got was a small chuckle. 

Eli doesn’t take long to come to the living room, introducing herself too but this far with just a wave from her hand and a head nod. As if in cue with Eli sitting down, the doorbell rings. Gabi excitingly hops to the door to open it.  On the other side, wearing some loose jeans and a long sleeve, was jungkook holding a tub of ice cream. Gabi is quick to give him a hug and his smile turns into a surprised look when he notices Yoongi in the living room. 

“Let me put this in the freezer” Gabi takes out the ice cream from JungKooks hands and hops back to the kitchen, meanwhile JungKook greets briefly Yoongi and takes a seat on the empty corner of the couch. Trying to avoid much eye contact with either of us. 

“Weren’t you guys all super drunk yesterday?” Yoongi asked to nobody in particular

“Yup” JungKook replies first

“Is she always like that?” He asks again pointing to where Gabi disapeared. Which gets us all agreeing at the same time 

“She says her superpower is to not get hungover” I add while Gabi gets back to the living room.

“ All righty! Super fun!” She drops the small bowl of snacks at the centre table “I guess you guys know eachother?” she asks looking between JungKook and Yoongi. 

“Yeah we are friends for a few years and we live together now that he is also is studying here” Yoongi replies giving a small grin to Jungkook who only smiles back in return, relaxing a bit more on the chair

“Great! So what do you guys feel like watching?”

The debate gets intense when Eli says she would like to watch a romcom and Yoongi suggests a new spy movie that just come out. Gabi sugests a Disney movie that gets quickly shut down by both Eli and Yoongi. For me, I honestly couldn’t care less about what we watch. Both me and Jungkook are watching the heated argument and when we lock eyes we both give a quiet laugh at the situation that we find ourselves in. 

At the end, since it was hard to everyone accept the same movie, we ended up doing a quiz, which resulted in us watching both of the DeadPool movies. The entire time Eli was disgusted and just like Gabi was quick to be on her phone. Yoongi, JungKook and I would laugh and snort at the terrible jokes made throughout.  When the movies were finally over, Eli bids her farewells earning a pout from Gabi. Shortly after both the boys also leave together. They were definetly were good company, I think to myself. Even though it is a bit strange to have all that tension in the room in the beginning. 

Once I start tidying up the living room I notice Gabi just staring with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, waiting to be acknoledged. 

I roll my eyes and say my own good night and leave her. I definetly don’t wanna talk about it whatever she thinks we need to talk about. 

Classes the next day are boring, and I cannot wait for this day to be over. Unfortunately, even though we are on the same course, Gabi and Eli are on different schedules then mine, leaving me to suffer by myself. 

Lunch time couldn’t come fast enough. Lunch at school was quite fun. The food was made by the first years of our course and managed by the third years. In their semester they learn how to operate different departments and the third years how to run different outlets. After settling for a deliciously smelling creamy pasta, I spot Gabi and Eli searching for a spot to sit. 

A hand shoots up and JungKook calls out for Gabi, which leads to us three sitting at his table with his friends. Jin and Taehyung are also there. I sit next to Taehyung, Gabi and Eli on the opposite side next to Jungkook and Jin. 

Suddenly someone drops on the seat next to mine “You know, we are so hurt that we were not invited to your movie night yesterday.” I look to the person next to me, only to find Jimin pouting. 

“The fact that Yoongi was there, makes it hurt even more” Jin says elbowing Gabi. 

“Hey its not my fault” she says “Shes the one who invited him” motioning to me with her head while taking a bit of her sandwich. 

Her call out earned some smirks from the others on the table except Jungkook who, normally is very talkative, staring at his own plate in silence. 

I roll my eyes “It’s not like that.” Which only provokes a snort from taehyung. “Well if you all are so butt hurt, feel free to also join next time.” I try to ignore but my phone buzzes with a new notification. 

JIMIN added you to a new group .

I roll my eyes but honestly finding it quite fun. I miss having the chaos of my friend group from back home, and I’m eager to create these new friendships here. 

 “Ok so next movie night is tomorrow at your place right?” Jimin asks cocking his head at me.

“You cannot just invite yourself” I say trying to shrug him off.

“Though luck” He says “I just did, sweetheart” JungKook laughs at the audacity of his friend.

“Can we please watch something else then?” Eli is the one to say now “Like some romantic comedy or even a Disney movie..” she tries.

“Yes!” Jimin jumps from his seat earning from me a side eye.

All of our phone’s buzz at once with a notification

Yoongi:  ? 

Jimin: Tomorrow movie night at Gabi and YN’s place

Jimin: Presence is mandatory. 

“Don’t mind him” Taehyung says lower to me “If you guys don’t feel like it just tell him off” he shrugs, clearly his friends energy is something that sometimes needs to be ignored. Well, at this point, I can relate, since Gabi’s energy is much the same. 

When I look back to them Gabi and Jimin are excitedly making plans about what we should eat and watch. Both matching each other’s energy, with Jin, Jungkook and Eli, casually adding or removing things from their plan. 

Here we go, I think to myself.  

Indeed, Gabi and Jimin are the on the same side of the coin. Their similarities don’t end at their energy to make plans with their friends. They burst out singing, dancing or their new favorite activity: bother each other. 

It has almost been a week since the last movie night with all of them, and at this point Jimin is set in making this a tradition. Every Sunday, everyone gathers to watch a movie. The first time we all got together, was a bit strange. All of them showed up. Even Yoongi, who Jimin kept teasing that apparently never leaves his house during the week. The teasing earned him a flick on the forehead earlier in the day. 

JungKook also back down on his flirting since the Beach Incident. Even though the way we held hands keeps finding its way back to my thoughts. Eli also seems to be over her crush on JK since apparently, she and Gabi saw him with another girl on last night, at a bar. Good for him, I guess. 

I told myself that I would only let myself go out on weekends as I can just relax for the next couple of days, and that is how I managed to drag myself to this sports bar.

The same way Jimin has the same traits as Gabi, he also is earning a spot closer to me. Gabi swears she is not jealous of him stealing her spotlight, but that just adds fuel to his bickering. Which is exactly what is happening right now. 

“I already told you to drop it Jimin. I - ” she then points to herself in a very dramatic way  “am the best friend. You just arrived at the train and wants to sit at the window. I think not” 

I roll my eyes “Or…. Hear me out….” I add like it’s a secret  “We could all be best friends” I say with a fake smile

“No” they add in unison. Giving each other a side eye when they realize they said it together. 

“Yeah, I will go get another shot” I say promptly getting up. 

“I will go get it for you bestie” Gabis shoots up

“Sit” I say in a serious tone, and she immediately falls back to her chair with a pout. 

The sports bar that we chose to spent Friday evening was not at all crowded. Jin suggested that we all get together at this sports bar close to campus as there were multiple matches they were interested in watching. Of course, most of them were late. The bar was actually quite cozy. The walls were nicely decorated, big TV’s divided the space with all sorts of sports paraphernalia. There was also a pool table, a tarts board and next to it sitting corner with brown leather couches, where we decided to wait for the rest. 

As soon as I reach the bar, and lean against it, the bartender, a friendly-looking guy with a neatly trimmed beard, approaches with a smile.

"What can I get for you?" he asks, wiping down the counter.

"3 shots of tequila, please," I reply, glancing back at Gabi and Jimin, who are now engaged in a heated debate about who knows me better. Their antics bring a smile to my face.

As the bartender prepares my drink, I notice as familiar faces are entering the bar and make their way casually to the couches in the back. The bartender hands me the shots, and I nod my thanks and quickly pay before making my way back to our corner. As I approach, I catch snippets of conversation.

“Now, this is what im talking about!” Jimin eagerly takes the second shot from my hand and passes to Gabi. 

“and where is our shot?” Jin asks with an eyebrow raised. 

“This is their reward for arriving on time and hello to you too” I say and clink my glass with theirs before downing the strong drink while making a face. Gabi acts like she just had a shot of water. I honestly don’t know what type of mutant that she is. 

We all settle into a comfortable rhythm of conversation and laughter, As the night progresses, the sports games fade into the background, and the focus shifts entirely to our group. We play a few rounds of pool, Jimin and JungKook teaming up against Gabi and me. Gabi’s competitive streak comes out in full force, and we end up winning by a narrow margin, much to Jimin’s mock dismay.

“Okay, okay, you win this round,” Jimin concedes, throwing his hands up in defeat. “But next time, we’re definitely taking you down.”

“Dream on,” Gabi retorts, a triumphant grin on her face.

Eventually, we all go back to being around the couches and we are slightly buzzed from the drinks we had for the last hour or so. The conversation turns to future plans, ideas for the next movie night, and upcoming events on campus.

Just as we’re about to decide on the final plans for our next gathering, the door to the bar swings open again, and a familiar figure steps in.

“Well, now this is going to be interesting” Jimin settles back in the couch putting one arm around my shoulder and we all turn to see who just entered the bar. 

It’s Yoongi, and he’s not alone. He’s with a girl I’ve never seen before, her arm casually linked with his. She has this dumb smile splattered across her face and he has his usual unbothered look. They head toward the couches where our group is sitting. I feel an unexpected knot tighten in my stomach.

“Yoongi, who’s your friend?” Jin asks, his eyes twinkling with curiosity as our friend aproaching. 

“This is Mina,” Yoongi introduces her with a small smile. “We met at the record store a few days ago.”

Mina waves shyly, and the group greets her warmly. I try to force a smile, but it feels more like a grimace. It’s unlike Yoongi to bring someone new into the group, and I can’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy seeing him with her.

 “I was starting to think you’d ditch us for another quiet night in.” Jimin is the one to talk now, with a playfull smirk on his lips and I know that he loves poking at people. 

Yoongi chuckles. “Not this time. Besides, I’ve been out all day. Might as well end it with some good company.” He says looking at me with an intense gaze. 

Gabi and Jimin resume their playful banter, and while everyone else seems to be taken with Mina, I can’t shake my irritation. She laughs at all the right moments, shares interesting stories, and fits in seamlessly, which only makes me feel worse. My eyes keep drifting back to Yoongi and Mina, and every time she leans and touches him again and againa, I feel like rolling my eyes until its stuck in the back of my head. 

It seems that JungKook notices my distraction and asks the group if anyone wants more drinks. Everyone states what they are drinking, with a quick thanks, and goes back to the conversation with Mina, who is now sharing about a new exhibition coming to town next week.

“Hey, can you help me out with the drinks?” Jungkook asks closer to me as he reaches out a hand to pull me from Jimin's side.

We reach the bar, and he is quick to order everyone's drinks. I honestly don’t know how he managed to keep up with so many different orders.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks quietly, concern evident in his eyes.

“Yeah, just tired,” I lie, offering a weak smile.

He doesn’t seem convinced but lets it drop. The conversation continues at the corner of the bar, but I honestly don’t really feel like listening. Instead, I’m focused on Yoongi and Mina, trying to decipher their relationship. Are they just friends? Is there something more? My thoughts spiral, making it hard to concentrate on anything else. Mina’s laughter rings out again, and it grates on my nerves. I try to push the feeling down, reminding myself that Yoongi is just a friend. I can’t assume that any guy who is remotely nice is into me.

Mina's drink is the last one to be poured. When the bartender finishes pouring her stupid rose wine, I turn to the bartender and add to the order, “Can I actually also have another shot?” I ask him.

“Make it two,” Jungkook quickly adds, drawing closer to me. “If you’re tired, that will knock you right out, sweetheart.”

I take my glass and clink it against Jungkook’s, and I look back at the others sitting. Yoongi catches my eye, and I lift my drink in cheer to him with a ghost of a smile on my lips, before downing it without making a face this time. The burning is welcomed by my throat.

I help Jungkook bring back the cups on a tray, handing them to each of their owners, and plop down back next to Jimin, who barely notices me as he now starts an argument with Jin over which one is the best video game of all time.

Just as I’m about to excuse myself for some fresh air, Yoongi catches my eye. There’s something unreadable in his expression, and for a moment, I wonder if he can sense my unease. He leans over to say something to Mina, and before he can get up, Jk, stands up first. “Going out for a smoke” he announces “anyone care to join?” he asks generally but his playfull eyes fall on mine. 

“yeah lets go!” Gabi jumps up, and follows Jk. I also get up to follow them, maybe some fresh _smokey_ air will help me clear my head, of this unreasenable dislike of Mina, and improve my mood. I cannot be like this the entire night. I need to get it together, and fast.

As I was about to pass him, I feel a warm hand wrap around my wrist, stopping me. “I thought you didn’t smoke?” he says more in a statement then a questioning tone. 

“I don’t. Just going to make them company” I brush it off.

The frown that crosses his face comes as fast as it goes, and I believe that if I blinked I would have missed it. Mina enthusiastically, turns to him to ask his opinion on some music, that now she was discussing with Jimin, 

“You coming, sweetheart?” Jk asks standing not too far, as Gabi is distractedly putting on her coat. Yoongi lets go of my hand and turns to give her attention.

Outside, the air is chilly thanks to our proximity to the beach. Gabi and Jungkook are already chatting animatedly, the glow of their cigarettes illuminating their faces.  Gabi enthusiastically telling stories of her life back in her home country and  how she got so high once that she hallucinated she was in Paris. Our laughter echoes across the empty street.

Gabi apparently was a quick smoker as she was already taking the last drag of her cigarrate, shivering with the cold. “as much as I love your company guys, I think I lost all sensation to my extremities.” She states, a shiver clearly running through her. I chuckle as shes quickly makes her way back inside. 

JungKook nudges me playfully. “Come on, sweetheart,” he says, his breath visible in the cool night air. “Let’s join the smokers’ club.” He holds a laugh raising his eyebrows. I roll my eyes at his remark. 

“Nah, thanks” I brush him off. “I mean… good for you” he says, taking another drag. “this shit kills”

I chuckle. At least he knows. Jungkook is talking about one of our teachers, and how he doesn’t know how he will pass her exams if the classes continue being this boring. 

“Jungkook, its ethics. How did you expect it to be?”I ask with a small laugh,  but my eyes inevitably drift back to Yoongi and Mina. They’re sitting close, their shoulders almost touching, and I can’t help but wonder what they share. I look back at Jk, who is tossing his finished cigarate away, and I expect him to hush us inside. Instead, he leans against the brick wall, exhaling the last of the smoke. “You know,” he says, “sometimes it’s hard to figure people out.”

I raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

He nods toward Yoongi and Mina. “Take them, for instance. Are they just friends? Or is there something more?”

I sigh. “I wish I knew.”

JungKook chuckles. “Life’s full of mysteries, isn’t it? Like why Jin insists on wearing mismatched socks or why Jimin thinks he’s the world’s best dancer.”

I laugh, grateful for the distraction. “And why Eli can’t resist buying every cute stationery item she sees.”

“Exactly.” JungKook steps closer. “But sometimes, the answers surprise us. Maybe tonight will be one of those nights.” He winks and nudges me 

As we go back inside, to the comforting warmth of the bar I remind myself that Yoongi is just a friend—a complicated, enigmatic friend. 

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[pedroshotwifey]

Favorite Bounty chapter 5

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Din Djarin x afab!bounty!reader

Chapter word count: 7.3k

Chapter summary: Being on the run is harder than you thought...

Chapter tags/warnings: angst, canon-typical violence, cliffhangers bc I like chaos, stuff I'm forgetting

A/N: Hey, y'all!! I'm so, so sorry this took so long to get out! I think I had gotten used to writing shorter fics, so doing a long chapter was just kind of a pain for me. I'm super happy to get this updated though. Gonna go ahead and say that this will likely be a short series with less than ten chapters purely because of the length of each one, but that's not set in stone. If this is your first time reading this series, there are four parts before this! <3

****

It’s easy to get lost in the crowd once you step off the Crest. Mando had landed fairly close to the open market but, unfortunately, a good bit away from the spaceport. You immediately get sucked into the throng of people browsing the shops, your heart pounding hard against your ribs. The only thought that settles your ridiculous pulse is that you must be pretty damn hard to find mixed in with this lot. Though, of course, you know Mando, and you know that if he really wanted to spot you, he would. Bounty hunting fucking bastard.

You can't help but look over your shoulder every couple of minutes. Each time you do so, you fully expect to see Mando trailing behind you, cuffs in hand. You choose to ignore the pang of hurt in your chest when you think about him—about how easily he betrayed you. It didn’t even seem like he gave it a second thought. You curse yourself for dwelling on the issue and shake your head. You can't afford to waste time on facts you have already accepted. 

You stumble as a man knocks into your shoulder, bringing you out of your thoughts and making you lose your balance. You narrowly miss running into a woman holding hands with a young boy as you struggle to keep yourself up. You flash her a sorry look in response to her dirty one. You really need to figure out where you’re supposed to be going. You’re unfamiliar with Nevarro’s layout so you have no idea what direction you should go.

You walk straight for a few minutes before you decide that isn’t going to get you anywhere. This part of the planet is so ridiculously congested that there's no point in even moving your feet if you don’t have a set path. There's no telling which way you might be swept. kriff, a few minutes from now, you might realize that you had been traveling in a circle, and hadn’t even noticed.

Deciding that you would like to avoid such a circumstance, you push your way out to the side of the crowd so you can find somewhere to get a better view. You have to be quick about it—you know you’re low on time as it is, you can’t waste precious seconds trying to figure out a game-plan. You need to come up with a quick and easy route in a quick and easy fashion. 

Fortunately, as you push your way out of the heated blob of people, you spot a building that looks easy enough to get on top of. It's not super high up, so you won’t attract any unwanted attention, but it’s just tall enough for you to be able to spot the space-port. 

You figure it’s the best plan you’re going to be able to think of for now, so you quickly scramble to the side of the building, stopping in front of the ladder that goes all the way up to the top. Grabbing the first wrung, you begin to climb up, glancing back every now and out of paranoia. Of course, Mando’s never there, but you can’t help but check just in case. 

On the roof, you find that it’s easy—just as you suspected—to spot the port over the thousands of people. You easily map out a path before rushing back down the ladder. It shouldn’t take too long to get to the port, most of the roads you picked out were clear of people for the most part. 

Once your feet are back on the ground, you take off toward the first turn in your plan. It looks pretty busy, but from here it should be smooth sailing.

You become part of the market crowd the second you turn onto the street. Your jaw drops at the sight of so many people in one place. And you had thought there had been a lot of people around the crest… that was nothing. It definitely didn’t look like that many people from above. 

The throng of people is quick to take you into its embrace as you hastily make your way into the streets filled to the brim with shops. Everywhere you look, there is some kind of cart or stand offering some kind of merchandise. You ignore it all as you try to push your way through the crowd. 

It’s a bit hard to do when there are vendors shouting in your ear and popping out in front of you, making you stop briefly as they shove their product in your face. You resist the urge to push people out of your way. You really don’t have the time—or patience—for this right now, but you don’t need to draw unwanted attention. 

You look for signs posted with directions, letting them guide you until you’re able to push your way out of the main strip and into a less crowded street. You let out a breath of relief as you take in your surroundings, noticing the port close by. It’s not a straight shot, but it should only take you another few minutes or so. 

You try to stay discreet as you cling to sides of buildings and use hanging awnings for cover. It’s surprisingly hard to act nonchalant and unsuspicious if you’re trying too hard to do so. Having a price on your head is a real pain in the ass.

Adrenaline starts to sneak into your system as you grow close enough to the ships to decide which one to take. You need to be quick and choose one that will be leaving within the next few minutes. You know well enough to be aware of the fact that security will start to check passengers if there’s word of an escaped bounty. You can feel your breath starting to grow thinner and your body getting hotter. 

There’s a passenger ship near the back of the port. It seems smart enough to catch something like that so you don’t seem like you’re, well, on the run. You look around again before starting that way, breezing past people to find the line for tickets. You cross your fingers that there will be spots available on such short notice. 

As you approach the stand, you discover that there are only a few people waiting to purchase a seat. By the time you’re standing still, there’s only one person in front of you. A warm feeling rushes through your body, making you almost light-headed. You’re so close to escaping. Nobody ever does that.  

“Next!” 

You take a breath as you step up, trying to calm your nerves. 

“Hi, I need to get one ticket to…” you glance at the sign hanging from the stand. “Coruscant.” You wince internally. That probably isn't the best place to go in this situation, but at least you’ll be off of this planet. 

The woman looks at you skeptically, obviously confused by why you didn’t even know where the ship would be going. You flash her what you hope is a disarming smile as she squints and tells you your total none-the-less. 

You quickly swing your bag around and unzip it, pulling out your money. You’re handing it over when you hear your name called from behind you. 

Your heart drops to your ass as you turn, wide eyed, to see Mando running full speed at you. You don’t even have a second to think before you’re running too, scanning the area in front of you for an escape route. 

Curses repeat themselves endlessly in your panicked mind as you spy a ship getting ready to depart. It’s beat up and seedy looking, but it’s also likely your only chance. With one more glance behind you, you turn sharply to the left and make a bee-line for your escape. 

You try to focus on your breathing instead of the Mandalorian quickly gaining on you. The ship you’re headed toward is already starting to descend, and you just about triple your efforts. 

You hear your name again, and it makes you wince. A dull throb starts in your chest. Being this close in proximity with Mando again, but now as official enemies, hurts in a way you didn’t think was possible. 

You’ve been betrayed before, but not in such an intimate way. The fact that he pretended to have genuine interest in you—to engage in sexual acts with you—when he knew the entire time that he would be turning you in for a reward, digs deep into your chest like a rusted knife. 

Tears are obstructing your vision before you can deny them, but you push through until you’re only a few feet away from your ship. The gangplank is still open about halfway, but it should be enough for you to squeeze through by the time you reach it. It’s maybe five feet in the air right now, so it’s going to be tough to get up there.

Mando is only a few feet behind you now. You lunge for the plank with everything you have, and your fingers grasp on by just a few inches, the jagged metal stinging as you pull up enough to get both arms up. 

You look at the ground, seeing Mando coming to a stop from where you just jumped. You’re up too high now for him to jump after you, but you forget he has his jetpack until it comes to life. You scramble up the plank as it continues closing to avoid getting cut in half. 

In the end, it’s your only saving grace. You and Mando are able to see each other face to helmet briefly before you’re closed inside, and you make sure to let him see the raw anguish on your face before it does so. You almost wish he had that stupid helmet off so you could see for yourself if the asshole has any kind of remorse. 

A shuddering breath escapes from your lips as you wipe your tears. You turn around on your knees to examine the ship. It’s dark, dingy, and smells absolutely horrid. There’s no crew in sight, to your absolute relief. 

Resisting the urge to gag at the stench, you begin to crawl quietly away from the closed hatch. There are crates everywhere, taking as much floor space as possible and stacked as high as they can go. You’re confused for a moment as to why there needs to be so much product on board, but then a heavy realization dawns on you. 

These chests are filled with spice. 

You’ve seen these come in at your job at the junkyard. Old ones that had surpassed any kind of use for runners. Never in your life though, have you ever seen so many in one place. You absentmindedly hold your breath as you crawl forward, trying to find a place to hide. 

You stop in your tracks when you hear laughter coming from the cockpit—at least two men. 

Shitshitshitshitshit

There’s no getting out of this if you’re discovered. Your heart races in your chest as fear overtakes your body. You really can’t seem to catch a fucking break, can you?

You look around frantically until you see a small space toward the ceiling. It’s partially covered by a crate, which will make it harder to get to, but better for hiding. You scootch to the end of the crate you’re currently behind, peeking your head out just enough to make sure the hull is clear. 

As soon as you’re in the clear, you bolt as quickly and quietly as you can toward the concealed space. As you approach, you map out the notches and grooves you’re going to use to climb up there. 

Step by shaky step,  you pull yourself up, ignoring the stinging cuts in your hands and forearms from the plank. They’re not very deep or wide, but the strain on them hurts almost just as much. 

The crate at the top wobbles as you put all of your weight on it, the entire stack swaying slightly. Your eyes flutter shut as you mutter a silent prayer. It’s much too precarious for your liking as you swing one leg onto the edge of the cubby. You’re way too close for this plan to fail now. 

You’re only able to take a full breath once your entire body is safely tucked within the small space. It’s cozy, barely enough room for you to sit comfortably. You don’t even think it’s big enough to lay down if you wanted to. 

Chatting and laughter continues from the front of the ship as you slowly pull the crate in front of you to conceal you better. It’s heavy as hell and you have to nudge it inch by inch so as to not make a screeching sound against the one below it. 

Once you’re satisfied with the placement, you lean back against the cold metal wall behind you. Now that the exhaustion is beginning to seep into your bones, you can’t help but think that the feeling reminds you of sitting in the Razor Crest. 

You don’t stop the tears that run down your cheeks now. You deserve to cry after the week you’ve had. 

****

You realize much too late that you have no idea where this ship could be going, nor how long it’s going to take to get there. You have food and water in your bag, but you don’t know how you’re supposed to go about your other…needs. 

Thankfully, it seems that the destination is close enough to only be in hyperspace for what you assume was about half the day. You’re half asleep when you feel the tell-tale jerk of the ship coming out of it. It startles you enough to wake up the rest of the way, and you silently scold yourself for letting your guard down for so long—though you can’t remember exactly when you last got some decent sleep. 

The ship rattles as it cuts through the atmosphere of whatever planet it’s dropping this shit off at. The thought crossed your mind at one point that you could have possibly inhaled some of the spice lingering in the air. 

How great would that be? Trying to plead guilty of whatever crime you supposedly committed and then failing a drug test. Really screams “I’m innocent!” You roll your eyes, tired of your brain making up scenarios to throw you through more hoops. 

The ship stops rattling after a moment, and you can feel the glide as it lowers to the ground. The crates rattle once again as the ship plants itself. The walls of the craft creak and groan as a swaying starts, which is strange considering you’ve definitely landed. 

The motion makes you sick to your stomach, but it’s almost a welcome distraction from the fact that you’re about to piss yourself. You need to find a way off of this death-trap before one of the runners discovers you. 

You hear the gangplank starting to lower, and as it does, a gust of heavy rain pushes into the hull. A cold spray hits your face, making you flinch and cover yourself with your arm. From the sliver of scenery you can see, the sky appears to be dark, but not enough so for it to be night. 

You’ve heard about places like this; planets that storm every day of the year and never see the sunlight. They’re usually only used for fishermen, junk yards, and spots for spice traders to meet up. Which absolutely makes sense at the moment. 

You back into the cubby as much as you can, making yourself scarce as two men walk out of the ship and into the dreadful weather. They appear to be dressed for it, both of them wearing rubber boots and thick raincoats. You watch them until they’re out of sight, and then wait a few minutes before climbing back down to the floor. 

You get low, bending enough to be concealed by the chests until you get to the opening of the ship. You let out a breath of relief upon seeing that there’s no threat anywhere near at the moment. You’re so sick of luck not being on your side. This is definitely a welcome change. 

The rain is bone-chilling as you step out into it, immediately soaking you. It’s so thick that you can barely see in front of you. A couple buildings are within view every couple of seconds when there’s a break in the sheets of rain due to the heavy wind. With no other options, you decide to head that way. 

As you trek through the unforgiving storm, you can’t help but compare the way the fat drops of water hit your face to being cut by shards of glass. Though even if you were being cut, you would never be able to tell with how fast the blood would be washed from your numb skin. 

When you reach the closest building, you don’t waste a second before pushing the door open. The loud atmosphere of a cantina immediately welcomes you into its warmth. Despite the heat, you still shiver as you make your way through the main room and to the back. You rush into the bathroom and wait until a stall empties. 

As you wait, you get a couple strange looks, but you’re too tired to do anything about it. You just want to pee and find some directions to get the hell out of this place.

****

When you get out of the restroom, you spot an empty stool wedged between a burly looking man with a beard and a plump woman who seems to have had one or a dozen too many. Every other spot is full, so you hop up and lean forward, trying to catch the bartender’s attention. 

She works quickly, cleaning glasses in between serving replacements and taking orders. It takes a moment for her to come your way, but when she does, you have her full attention. 

“What can I get you, hon?” 

The bartender is a clean but busy looking woman with frizzy hair and a stained apron. You clock the kindness in her eyes immediately, and decide to put your trust in her. She looks like one of those women who would offer up a pad or tampon even if it was her last one. 

“Hi, uh, I’m actually not looking for a drink,” you say, trying to keep the tremble out of your voice. You’re not sure if it’s there due to the cold, the exhaustion, or the anxiety. “Can you tell me–”

You stop talking when the woman purses her lips and shakes her head. 

“Sorry, babe, I can’t hear you over this damn ruckus,” she gestures to the people around you, and then points to a corner where you assume the entrance to the bar is. “Meet me right there.” At least she can tell you’re not here to party. 

You slide down from your stool and squeeze your way to where she pointed. She’s already there when you get there. She’s taken her apron off, which confuses you slightly. 

“Hey, I–”

“Honey, you need to get out of here,” she cuts you off, hanging up her apron. 

“What, why?” You ask through your stomach dropping. She flashes you a sympathetic look and you return a defeated one. You’re so fucking tired. How long are you going to have to put up with this shit? 

“Bounty Hunter’s Guild just sent out a high stakes bounty warning. Picture looked just like you, babe.” She raises her eyebrows and gives you a pointed look.

You nod at her. Great, so not only do you have pucks out for any hunter that’s willing to find you, but every being in the galaxy has gotten an alert to look out for you. 

“Yup, That would be me.” 

“Mhm, figured. C’mon, let's get you out of this place. I’ve got somewhere you can stay until you can get off-world.” She exits from behind the bar and takes your hand, attempting to pull you with her. 

You give her a wary look, confused as to why she’s helping you. 

“How do I know you’re not turning me in?” 

“Humor me for a second, just come outside at least. Please?” She stops and looks at you, a pleading look in her eyes. 

You lick your lips but decide to follow her. It really doesn’t seem like she wishes you any harm, but you can’t be sure—you never would have thought Mando would, after all. Just outside, like she said. No further until she spills.

You allow her to pull you back the way you came, into the rain, and then down an alley next to the bar. There’s a flickering street lamp tucked under an awning between the two buildings, which the two of you huddle beneath. 

“Look, I’m gonna make this quick,” the woman says before you have a chance to speak. She pauses and watches you intently. You nod at her, signaling for her to continue. 

“I know how this bounty hunting shit is. My sister was hunted for a good while because she was seen outside the scene of a robbery. She was just a pedestrian, but she got taken in and questioned pretty thoroughly and then ended up spending a few nights in a cell. It’s fucked, to put it simply.”

“I don’t even know what I did,” you tell her, your voice cracking just slightly as you shake your head. She gives you that same sympathetic look from the bar. 

“I know. I read the reasoning for your bounty. It was bantha-shit.” 

“Great,” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose. You’re well aware that 90% of the population doesn’t care about that—all they’ll see is the pay for turning you in. 

“There’s a place on the outside of the city, it’s been abandoned for a couple years. I’m pretty sure the heat and water are still connected, but nobody ever goes there. It’s an outdated complex. You okay with staying there for a bit?” 

You nod at her, not knowing what else to say. Maybe a thank you? She’s talking again before you get the chance to do that though. 

“Alright, you stay here for just a second,” she instructs before running back into the bar. You lean up against the building, listening to the rain as you let out a shuddering breath. The woman is only gone for a few seconds before she re-emerges with a piece of paper in her hand. 

“These are the instructions to get there from here,” she says, grabbing your hand and shoving the paper into it. “I’m here if you need me, but please don’t try anything if you don’t have to.” 

You look at her, and then the paper, studying the scratchy writing. 

“Thank you, really,” you tell her. She just nods and releases your hand with a tight-lipped smile. 

“Be safe, hon,” she says before ducking back into the bar. 

The trek to the safe house is absolutely miserable. Everything on your body is soaked down, and the paper the woman gave you was starting to fall apart. You had to keep ducking under buildings and awnings to memorize what you could of the directions. 

You’re glad you did, because by the time you reach the place, the paper is non-legible. The building itself is pretty isolated. It appears to have been apartments at one point, but is now just a tall junkyard. There’s piles upon piles of trash around it, but you suppose that only gives more of a reason for people to not go inside. 

Unfortunately for you, you don’t exactly have a choice in the matter. You run up to the first door you see, and curse when you try to pull it open. It’s locked, of fucking course. 

You walk around to the side of the building until you see a window that’s not boarded up. Your palms slip against it as you try to get some leverage to push it up, but with some persistence, it comes loose. You almost fall when it springs up, but at least it’s towards the room inside. 

You glance behind you one more time before pushing yourself in. You close the window behind you and take a deep breath as the deafening storm is somewhat quitened. It’s cold in the room you find yourself in, but it’s far better than being out in that shit. 

Looking around, you spot a stove surrounded by counter space, hanging cabinets, and a small, round table accompanied by four outdated chairs. Definitely a kitchen. There’s what appears to be a hall to your right. You walk toward it, trying to hold back your shivering. 

It’s not super long, but you notice how eerily quiet it is as you walk though. On the other side, there’s a room with a bed and a couch. There are three doors, which you can only assume lead to a bathroom, a closet, and the main hall of the building. 

You open the first door, which goes out into the hall. It sends a gust of even colder air into the room, making your teeth chatter as it envelops your wet body. You look left and right, and then reluctantly step into the freezing hallway. It’s dark as shit, but the occasional uncovered window allows enough—albeit dim—lighting to lead you toward the stairwell. 

There’s a sign tacked on the wall there, and you sigh with relief as you spot the directions to the maintenance room. That must be where you can flip the heat on. It’s not far, just down the first staircase and down the hall a little. Without the windows, the room is even darker than the rest of the building. 

You mutter a curse under your breath, figuring that your best bet is going to be blindly running your hands around the walls until you find a switch. You put your hands out and start to glide them slowly left to right, and then up and down until you find an abnormality in the wall. 

You shudder, trying to ignore the cobwebs that have accumulated on the panel which are now sticking to your hands. As long as they’re not spiders, it’s okay. You hesitantly flip the first one, and then the second. Nothing happens in your area, but you swear you hear a click come from one of the floors above you. 

In quick succession, you flip the rest of the switches, and a light finally comes above you once you reach the second to last one. You huff out a breathy laugh at your luck. Now that you aren’t in total darkness, you can clearly see the other panels around you, along with their labels. 

You flip the switch for water, and then another for heat. A low humming starts above you as you do so, indicating that at least the latter is working. 

A piping hot shower and half a ration bar later, you’re laying on top of a bed under a heater, still trying to warm up. You feel the most relaxed you have since you found your bounty puck, although it still isn’t enough to fall asleep without keeping an eye open. Eventually, though, the humming from the heating system lulls you enough to fall into a half-sleep. 

****

You spend three days on what you’ve learned is Attera Bravo before you run out of luck. Word of a Mandalorian bounty hunter is quickly spread, and you catch wind of such as you pay a visit to town for more rations. The panic which had ebbed away after the last few days is suddenly back in full force. 

You really thought you would have a second to catch your breath, but you’re quickly learning that there is no such thing when there’s a price on your head. While you’re in town, you pick up a few rations on the outskirts, and that’s it. You had wanted to find a rain jacket on your trip, but you decide not to risk being in town for too long. 

So you begin to make the trip back to the safe house without a cover from the cold, biting rain. It sucks ass, but it’s better than carbonite. Even though you’re on the outskirts, you still hug the sides of buildings as you make your exit. Your head keeps snapping towards the slightest movements; a flickering street lamp, a closing door, a flash of far away lightning. 

You break off into a sprint as soon as you’re a few feet away from the cover of the nearest building. You don’t look back as you push yourself, not wanting to risk slowing down. All you can see is the terrifying image of Mando catching up with you like he did on Nevarro. 

You glance at the spaceport as you run past, seeing if you can get a glimpse of the Razor Crest. You don’t see it, but that’s probably for the best. There’s no mistaking that the Mandalorian bounty hunter the town’s people are talking about is your Mandalorian bounty hunter, but seeing the Crest would probably crack something within you. That would mean that the kid is likely with him, and you can’t afford to think about him right now. 

You can hear your heavy breaths over the sound of the rain, and you choose to focus on that instead of the icy chill. You try to take breaths in through your nose to calm yourself, but you just get a nose full of water, so you scratch that and continue your panicked breaths through your mouth. 

Breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out, breath in–

Your breath hitches. There’s a buzz coming from behind you, steadily growing louder. You spare a glance over your shoulder, and you can just make out the headlights of what looks to be a speeder bike. The pathetic “no” that leaves your mouth would be extremely embarrassing if anyone were around to hear it. 

You try to pick up your pace, but almost trip with your effort. The bike is getting closer, you don’t have to look again to know. There’s no way you’re going to outrun it. You have an idea, but it’s going to be risky. You grit your teeth, thinking it over, and decide that the risk is better than definitely getting caught. 

You stop suddenly, just for a second, until the bike is almost to you. Then you turn around, seeing Mando atop it, only a bit away. He didn’t anticipate your stop, and doesn’t register the fact that he needs to slow down until you’re running past him and back toward town. 

You don’t get much of a head start, but luckily the space port is still close enough that it’s not absolutely necessary. As soon as you’re close enough, you dive around a crate to get out of the way of the speeder. Mando arrives right behind you, quick to hop off it and start on foot after you.

You make your way to where you remember the ship you came on had landed. The last time you passed here, you remember seeing the gangplank open. Either they make routine stops, or they’re here for a while. Either way, it means that your escape will be aided by the same ship that helped you the first time. 

By some incredible luck, it’s still there. There’s a group of relatively shady people gathered a few yards away from it, standing under a wing of another ship, but you’re getting used to dealing with shady things at this point. You run past them, not intending to stop until you’re alone without the threat of Mando. 

Without stopping to turn around or even check if there are people in the ship, you run up the plank, slamming your palm over the button to close it behind you. You hear a couple panicked “Hey”s from behind you, which you can only assume is the protests of the guys who own this ship. You run into the cockpit, which is thankfully empty. 

You start to flick switches and pull knobs, everything you can try to get this thing off the ground in the fastest amount of time. If you learned anything on the Crest, it’s how to work a ship’s panel. You hear pangs coming from the closing door, and look out the window to see that half of the group from earlier has run off, and are likely the source of the sound. 

You looked out just in time to see your Mandalorian coming to a stop in front of the other half of the group, who are blocking him from getting further toward you. You huff out a tiny laugh. Take that, asshole. The ship starts to ascend just as Mando throws his first punch. 

****

Once you’re back into space, your heart gets the memo that it can stop working overtime. You decide you’ll just cruise for a bit while you figure out where the best place to go would be—assuming Mando will be occupied with his opponents below for a moment. It needs to be somewhere pretty isolated and unknown for the most part, but also not painfully obvious. 

You consider going back to Jakku for a moment, but scratch that idea quickly. You would for sure be turned in by someone there. And besides, Mando would look there eventually. 

You sigh and lean back in the outdated pilot’s seat, staring at the stars around you. You hadn’t realized how much you missed this view. It’s quiet and peaceful, and it almost makes you forget everything you’re dealing with right now. A lump catches in your throat at that thought. 

You really don’t understand how you’re going to get through this. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life running; that’s no life at all. To be in constant fear of being caught, never being able to settle down, never able to make connections. It genuinely makes you sick to your stomach. 

You lean back and put one hand over your eyes as you try to think about what your next step is. It also needs to be somewhere where you can get more supplies. You need more clothes since all yours have been pretty weathered by the constant rain. You’re also going to need money at some point. 

How are you going to do that? Something tells you that you won’t be able to just snag a job along the way. You sit forward in your seat again, shaking your head. The air con on the ship has kicked on, hitting your drenched body and making your teeth chatter as you pull up the navigation system to browse nearby planets. 

You’re only pressing the first button when the ship suddenly jolts, a crashing sound coming from the back. It scares the shit out of you, your hand clutching tightly to your chest as you spring up out of your seat and look behind you. 

An alarm sounds, frightening you more as you realize that you’ve just been hit. The impact didn’t seem like enough to do a lot of damage, but you have no idea how to work the cannons on this thing—if there are any cannons at all. Judging by the looks of this thing, if it is equipped with a weapons system, it’s likely out of date and of no use to you. 

You speed up and grab the steering to quickly turn to the right, trying to get out from in front of the offending ship. Maybe if you can get behind them and far enough away, you’ll be able to get into hyperspace. It seems that your best bet is going to be running. You’re sensing a bit of a pattern at this point. 

You grit your teeth as the ship tilts slightly with the momentum of your turn. A couple of left over bins in the hull spill over, making you wince at the crashing sounds. There’s suddenly a sweet smell, and you close your eyes briefly as you pray that there wasn’t any spice in those crates. 

It was only for a split second, but when your eyes open, you’re face to face with another small craft. You swerve again to keep out of its way. As you do so, another pops up in your path, and then another, each of them coming out of hyperspace in quick succession. 

Your heartbeat picks up with your panic as you realize you’re surrounded. You can’t see behind you, and there’s no way to go forward. There’s got to be at least five or six of them, and they’re probably carrying between at least four to eight people a piece. They could take you out right now if they wanted. 

Gulping down your anxiety, you do the most rational thing you can think of in the moment, and reluctantly slow down to a gentle drift. As the ships come in closer with your surrender, you think ahead. If they take you onto one of their ships, you might be able to—

Your train of thought is stopped as you get an alert of an incoming transmission on the dash. You breathe out a shaky breath and press the button to accept it. 

A holo-image of an extremely pissed looking Weequay sprouts from the com. You stand tall and put on a brave face. He stares at you, his eyes narrowing. You gulp, hoping it goes unnoticed. There’s a sour taste in your mouth, and a sick feeling in your stomach. You don’t know if you’re getting out of this one. 

To make matters worse, the spice that had spilled with your turn is starting to creep up to the cockpit in a thick fog. The rusty-orange looking powder floats higher with every second, the effects quickly making you dizzy. 

“Okay, girl,” the rugged looking creature drawls with a weird accent you can’t quite place. “I personally was having a good day today, and I think you should know that, first of all.”

You furrow your brow but don’t interrupt. The creature starts to pace slightly as he speaks in a casual tone. 

“Everything was going great, I was making good sales, had deals going for that spice you have in my ship—which I’m sure you’ve discovered at this point. I was just about to have my guys deal with it—and then I got the call that some bitch stole my ship containing the goods. Would you know anything about that, sweetheart?” 

You wince lightly at the insulting pet name, a stark difference from the way Mando used to say it. The dust around you is starting to pick up to the point where your eyes are stinging. You wish you could think of something to say back, but all you can focus on is the bile crawling up your throat. 

“Hm, I think you would,” he stops to say flatly. “Now, my initial plan had been to force you off my ship and maybe take you out to have a little fun! Told my guys they deserve to have a little treat on me after their hard work the last few days. We’d just need you for a little bit, I’m sure these guys don’t have much stamina if you know what I mean…”

The man continues talking, but you’ve frozen in place. Your stomach twists at his threats, and you suddenly feel the need to throw up. The spice growing thicker around you is definitely not helping that factor. 

“...would have been such a good time,” you zone back into the man’s vulgar words. Letting your gaze drift back to him from where it had fallen to the floor. You find yourself wishing for Mando, for the safety you felt as you laid so briefly within his comforting arms. You want to punch yourself for thinking that. 

The pirate, obviously annoyed with your lack of response, continues rambling about this inconvenience, but you can hardly hear him through the ringing growing louder in your ears. The truth that you’re finally trapped is just catching up to you. 

 “Anyways, when I found your bounty poster, I thought just for a second that it must be your lucky day! But then, I figured that whoever wants you probably doesn’t give a shit about what kind of condition you’re in.” 

He laughs at the increasingly panicked look on your face. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart! We won’t go too hard on you now. As long as you cooperate, of course. Just be good for us and we’ll send you to Nevarro without so much as a—”

There’s another crash from behind you, but this time it’s not your ship taking the damage. The man in front of you swivels around, straining to see the source of the sound. His eyes widen, and so do yours when you see the fear in his eyes. You take a step back. 

“What the—” 

The pirate is cut off again as his ship abruptly explodes right in front of you. His holo-image glitches out as you scream, falling back into your seat. Your ship is knocked back slightly at the same time you feel two other crafts quickly flying by you, chasing the shadow of the one you see above you. 

Two ships emerge from either side of you, and your heart skips a beat once you catch a glimpse of the one they’re chasing. You know that ship. Two of the smaller crafts race after the Razor Crest as it trails them away from you. 

That doesn’t mean you’re surrendering to anybody today. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you scramble to push the thrusters, planning to get as far away from here as you can. The two ships that aren’t tailing the Crest suddenly change direction to follow you instead. Shit.

You continue forward at full speed, making quick turns and dodges to throw off the idiots behind you. Unfortunately, it’s not working in your favor. You feel your ship jolt as a blast lands on the surface of it. You hear the sound of something powering down. 

Your craft slows to about half its speed, making you cry out in frustration. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the Crest take out one of the ships that had been pursuing it. Another hit comes to your ship, and this time the hit is so great that you jolt forward and almost hit your head on the dash. 

Another one immediately follows, and this time you do slip out of your chair and smack your head on the edge of the panel. Your vision blacks for a second, and you know it has to be at least a small concussion. A ringing starts back in your ears again as your vision blurs slightly. A big flash blinds you momentarily as—at least you assume—Mando takes out the other craft on his trail in front of your ship. 

For a second, nothing makes sense. There’s another blow to the side of your craft, and then one more, one right after the other. You get rocked back and forth forcefully, only making you more confused. There’s too much going on at once for you to process; time’s moving too slowly and the spice is making you hazy and the alarm’s too loud and there’s another big crash and muffled explosion as another ship is annihilated. 

You scramble, trying to stay up straight as you use your chair to push yourself up. You need to find a way to get out of here before you’re left alone with Mando. Does the hyperspace still work on this thing? Too bad you won’t find out, because as you reach for the dash, you get sent forward and smack your head again. This time, everything goes black.

***** Thank you for reading!! I'm going to try to have another part out in a few weeks!! I'm also making a taglist for this series if anyone would like to join.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Still With You | A Jeon Jungkook Series | Chapter 5

Summary: Jungkook comes to pick you up for your "date". Pairing : Luna (reader) x Jungkook and Jimin, f2l love triangle Word Count: 5.7k~ Warning: Explicit Language, a panic attack and mentions of death by car accident (nothing graphic) a/n: I already had this written so I thought I would post the next part to kind of fill up the gap before the next update for Just Take It Start from the beginning

After coming back to the store from my meet up with Jimin I can't help but space out while, waiting for time to pass by. Jungkook's coming to pick me up for our "date" as he likes to call it soon and I get a bit nervous thinking about how things are gonna go. I hope he likes what I have planned but knowing him, he would probably enjoy doing anything as long as we're together. 

That's why our friendship work so well. We can literally be laying down on the floor and staring at the ceiling and still have so much fun just talking about anything and everything. Then once we run out of things to say we never feel pressured to keep the conversation going. We just sit in comfortable silence. 

I do admit that half the time when that happens I end up falling asleep, but Jungkook doesn't seem to mind. He'll just sit there or lay there next to me and play with my hair which only helps me fall into an even deeper sleep. My favorite place in the whole world is when I'm with him. I just feel so safe that it doesn't even matter where we are. 

I can't help but smile thinking of all the times we've spent together and how much he's helped me since the beginning. He was there for me when I got my first period and even though he didn't know what was going on, he still stayed with me and helped take care of me. We were in middle school but he still showed that sense of maturity in him that I always admired. Although I wish some of it would've rubbed off on me. 

I feel like I've still got a lot to learn and I'm still so naïve when it comes to a lot of things. Jungkook is there for me when times get tough that I'm not sure if I could've gotten though half of the things I've gone through if it wasn't for him.

The time that Jungkook and I met wasn't the happiest time in my life and but somehow he showed up and helped me through it. We met on the day of my parent's funeral. 

I was only six and I was in the car with them but I was the only one who survived. Everyone came back to my old house after the funeral service was done and I just couldn't handle being there without my parents by my side anymore so I ran to the park and hid on my own behind a tree and cried my eyes out. 

I hadn't cried since the accident happened and I knew that if I broke down in front of everyone or went to my room I would just get scolded. They would probably say I was being selfish and some of them resent me because my parents didn't survive, especially my grandmother. 

She used to be kind and loving but once my parents died she blamed me for taking her son away from her. She even told me that she would trade me for him if she could when it hit the ten year anniversary of their death. 

The time she said that was the last time I ever saw her. I was seventeen and done with being reprimanded for the fact that I survived. They act like I was the one who caused the crash or that I could've somehow prevented it. 

While I was crying at the park after the funeral a little boy came up to me because he had heard me crying. 

Some kids might tease you for crying or try to figure out why you're upset, but not him. He simply sat next to me and stayed with me until I calmed down. He asked me what my name was and I told him and he offered up his name right after "My name is Jungoogie but my real name is Jungkook. But you can call me whatever you want" he said simply with a smile. 

He reached out his hand to help me up off the ground and asked me if I wanted to play with him. I was hesitant at first but said okay and we played for hours before he had to go. "I'm sorry Luna but I have to go now, my mom says dinner is ready. Do you wanna play again sometime?" he said with a cute bunny smile. I noded my head in turn, happy to have made a new friend.

He waved goodbye and ran off towards his mom "Meet me back here tomorrow and we can play tag!" he yells turning to me and waving once more before running down the street back to his house. After that day we played together everyday after school until it was time to go home. 

I moved to a different part of the city when we got a bit older but Jungkook begged his mom to send him to the same school as me and so we could stay together. We were in the same class, we joined all the same clubs, we even had the same backpack. We were inseparable. 

Grey came along later and with how antisocial and lonely she seemed most days in class I couldn't help but adopt her into our friend group. She had come in at the middle of the year school year in 6th grade and I just wanted her to have at least one friend. 

I know I hated being left out when I was younger so I just kept bugging her everyday until she finally accepted the fact that I wasn't gonna leave her alone. From then on the three of us have been the best of friends. Although most days Grey still acts like she can't stand us I know that she loves us in her own way.

Once I start to come out of the fog that is my daydream I realize that it's almost time for him to come get me. 

"I so excited for tonight!" I gush to Grey. "Did I ask?" she responds checking out her cuticles sounding uninterested. "Oh come on I know you're just jealous" I say nudging her shoulder teasingly. "Jealous? Of you and Jungkook? I'm just happy you two are gonna leave me alone for the rest of the night. Just make sure to finish up your share of the work before you leave" she says reminding me that I am in fact still on the clock. 

"Shit, yeah about that" I start off tentatively. "No Luna you've been slacking off all night, you cannot leave me to do all of your work for you" she says ready to cut me off before I can even ask. "Oh come on, I promise I'll make it up to you I swear! Plus you came in late today so I could've had this all done if I wasn't left alone for so long" I say guilt tripping her. She rolls her eyes and I can see her defense slowly crumbling. 

"Lunch for a week" she huffs out. "Thank you thank you thank you! You're an absolute gem!" I say giving her a quick squeeze. "Yeah whatever, can you at least straighten up the snacks over there until he comes to pick you up?" she says waving her hand over towards the shelves in question while scrolling through her phone clearly becoming more and more uninterested in my existence. "Yup you got it!" I say while heading over to take care of it.

I end up humming some random song while rearranging all of the various misplaced items. I wonder if I should buy some to go along with the other food I brought. I ponder this while putting the finishing touches on the section. "Guess who" I hear someone say behind me while covering my eyes. 

"Kook! Happy Friendiversary!" I say while turning around to give him a huge hug. "Happy Friendiversary Luna but haven't I told you to stop day dreaming while at work. Someone could really end up sneaking up on you or wor-". I hold my hand up to stop his lecture before it goes any further. 

"No more nagging tonight, it's a special occasion right? Let's just relax and have a good time alright?" I say bringing my hand down and grab his in turn. "Wow Noona when did you suddenly become a rapper?" he says with a cheeky smile. I lift my arm up to hit him but he dodges before I can make contact. 

"Alright alright no more nagging" he says, finally giving in. I thought for sure that he would try to protest a bit further but luckily he decides against it. "Are you ready to go?" he asks starting to perk up again. "Yep last thing is for us to pick out some snacks and drinks before we leave and then we'll be good to go. Do you have anything in mind?" I say already knowing his answer but I can't help but want to see the joy on his face as he picks out his favorite snacks. 

"Yes, and I'm paying!" he says, rushing around the store. "But wait I was the one who mentioned it!" I say in protest. "Yeah but you brought the rest of the food right?" he says. "Touché" I respond, shaking my head.

Once we're done I grab the picnic basket, my bag and some blankets from the back and we say goodbye to Grey as he leads me over to where his brother's truck is parked. "Wow is it just me or does this look a lot nicer?" Jungkook chuckles at me in response. "No it's not just you. He got a newer version of the same model" he informs me. 

"Oh okay that makes sense! Looks like it's a bit smaller though" I say concerned about the space. "Yeah it looks smaller but I promise once you get inside it's actually quite spacious. Why are you worried about that though? You've been very secretive about this whole thing so I'm starting to get anxious" he teases. 

"Hey have I ever let you down?" I say walking around to the passenger side and getting in. "Yes, multiple times" he responds with a straight face, answering the question very seriously in a way to tease me further while he goes and gets in on the driver's side. Leaving me scoffing in response while getting in the car. 

"Hey I'm just being honest here" he says with a mischievous grin on his face. "Do you really want me to list them off because it might take a while. Okay well there was this one ti-" "Okay okay I get it you can stop now" I say placing my hand over his mouth. I expect him to lick my hand in response like he always does but this time he decides to kiss it instead. I widen my eyes not sure how I should respond and I can feel my cheeks start to warm up. I yank my hand back after he decides to deliver a few more kisses clearly satisfied with my reaction.

"Why are you being so weird today?" I ask, laughing it off. "I don't know what you're talking about" he says ,sitting back to put his seatbelt on. I mirror his actions and try to shake off the butterflies that had suddenly crept up on me. He backs out of the parking lot and flawlessly with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the back of my headrest taking quick glances to the back when necessary. I can smell his sent from here and I can't help but feel myself getting intoxicated by it. 

"You okay?" he asks, looking over at me now having turned his body a bit more to gain a wider view out the back window to make backing up a bit easier which ends up making our proximity closer than what I had anticipated. I mentally curse myself for glancing down at his lips which he clearly saw me do since he currently has his full attention on me. 

"I- um- yeah I'm fine" I say getting a bit flustered yet again. "You sure?" he questions further with a slight chuckle. "Mhm" I respond, afraid I'll say something stupid. 

"Okay so..." he starts, "So?" I question by echoing him, feeling a bit perplexed. "Are you gonna tell me where we're going or am I gonna have to read your mind?" he teases again this time accompanied with a half smile that makes my heart flutter. "Oh yeah my bad, just go here" I say putting the address into the navigation system. He glances over at me and shakes his head while making the first turn out of the parking lot.

"Okay spill there's clearly something going on with you" he says not giving up on me. "I'm just nervous about tonight. I'm afraid you might not like it or think it's weird" I say giving an excuse that isn't totally truthful but it'll work for now. 

"Luna you know that as long as we're together I couldn't care less what we do. Now just take a deep breath and pull up your playlist, you're the DJ this time" he says while handing me the aux cord. I glance over at him with childlike joy as I quickly plug my phone in and start playing some of our favorite songs. 

The atmosphere starts to get a bit more comfortable after I start to loosen up with the music and I eventually forget why I got so nervous in the first place.

"You know I really missed you" he says all of a sudden glancing over at me. "What makes you say that?" I say chuckling a bit at the random sentiment. "Can't a guy just miss his best friend? I feel like it's been ages since I last saw you" he says with a slight pout. "Kook you just saw me a couple days" I say laughing again. 

"So? I like spending time with you" he say defiantly. "Well unfortunately that's what happens when you grow up. We're not kids anymore Kook" I say starting to feel a bit sad at the fact. "Hey no sad talk! We're supposed to be having fun right?" he says pushing away those negative feelings. 

"Yeah, you're right" I say admitting fault. "Why don't you tell me about your day" he says showing interest but still keeping his eyes on the road which gives me a chance to admire his side profile. I can't help but notice the scar on his face even in this dim lighting and I still remember how he got it. Time really does fly.

"Y/n" he says calling me back to reality. "Huh what?" I say embarrassed that I got caught staring at him. "How was your day?" he repeats chucking at my awkward demeanor. "Oh um, it was okay, not very eventful. Although I did see a man outside chasing a pigeon for a couple of hours" I say laughing at the memory. 

"What? Why?" he says with amusement and disbelief laced in his tone. "All I know is he never did catch that bird" I end shaking my head. "Sounds like the bird put up a good fight" he says, shaking his head in unison. "Any grown man that's crazy enough to chase a bird around is definitely someone I would not want to be around" he finishes. 

"What about that one time the bird in our 6th grade class escaped?" I say teasing. "I thought we agreed to never speak of that day" he says suddenly getting serious. "Oh come on, it was hilarious the way he-" "Nope shut up" he says cutting me off. "Ya! How dare you tell your Noona to shut up!" I say faking offense. "But I'll let it slide this time since it's our anniversary" I finish with a cheeky smile. He rolls his eyes as we continue our journey to our destination.

As as we come upon the small mountain range the navigation system soon signals that we've arrived. "Um what are we supposed to do here?" he says a bit confused. "Shhh don't worry about it. Just go up here and turn right when you reach the dirt road and follow it all the way up okay?" I instruct. "Alright, you're the boss" he says laughing it off and following my instructions. 

Once we get to the end of the dirt road we reach a gate with a 'Private Property' sign hanging on it. "Hey I thought you said we weren't gonna do anything illegal!" he yells after me. "It's not illegal! Just, you know, private" I say brushing it off. "Uh huh" he says not convinced. I wave him forward after having opened the gate. 

"Have you been here before?" he asks once he turns the engine off and starts to get out. "Once, with Grey. Her family actually owns this property so you don't have to worry about us being here. Okay?" I say going up to him and placing my hand on his arm. "Okay" he says smiling down at me. I fell myself falling into his star filled gaze which eventually reminds me of why we're here.

"Oh! Right I forgot to tell you what we're doing here" shaking myself out of the slight trance I had fallen into. He shakes his head at me and waits for me to continue. "Stargazing" I say with childlike joy. "I know we had always talked about doing it some day but there are just too many lights in Seoul that it makes it difficult to see them so once I came here I just knew I had to bring you!" I finish off looking out at all the stars. 

I welcome the comforting embrace I feel wrapping around me from behind. "You're the best" he says resting his head on top of mine. "I know" I say in amusement. "No for real this is amazing" he says encouraging me to look up at him. "I'm glad you like it" I say smiling up at him. I feel those butterflies from earlier start to flutter again and I have to drag my gaze back up towards the sky. 

"Should we start getting the stuff out of the car?" I suggest. "Yeah, in a minute" he says tightening his embrace around me. This moment feels way more intimate than I had planned for but I can't help but enjoy the feeling. After another minute or two I nudge his side in an effort to get him to release me, "Come on let's set everything up". "Okay okay" he says, letting go but not before placing a soft kiss on top of my head.

Soon after we've finished putting the final touches on everything I step back and admire our hard work. We've laid down some blankets and pillows in the truck bed and we have a picnic basket full of all the food I had prepared, paired with the snacks Jungkook bought and my laptop fully charged with Netflix pulled up. Jungkook gets into the back and makes himself comfortable. 

"So are you just gonna stand there all night or what?" he says teasing me for not getting in fast enough. I throw my head back in playful irritation, letting out a sigh and coming back up to give him a slight smile. "Then come here" he says with his arm held out to help me up. Once I'm up and go to sit down he holds onto my hips and guides me down to sit right next to him. If I was any closer to him I would be on his lap. 

I look up at him after settling in his embrace. "What?" he questions with a sheepish smile on his face. "Nothing I say turning my attention towards my laptop. "So what are we watching?" I question. "I don't have anything in mind" he says looking up at the stars. "Well are you hungry?" I question laughing at his indifference. 

"Can you just put some music on? I wanna stargaze for a bit" he says, keeping his eyes on the sky. "Sure" I reply, smiling at his concentration. I put a low-fi playlist on low and lean back into his embrace. We stay there and look up at the stars in silence for a while, enjoying the peace and tranquility of the moment.

"Hey" I say in a hushed tone looking up at him. "Hmm" he hums, bringing his gaze back down to me. "Penny for your thoughts?" I ask, feeling slightly breathless at the proximity. He decides go back to looking up at the stars before he starts to answer. 

"Just thinking" he says mindlessly. "About?" I question. "Stuff" he says. "What kinda stuff?" I say playing into his game. "All kinds of stuff" he says and I can't help but get tired of the guessing game. I playfully hit his chest in response, "Ouch!" he groans looking down at me while clutching his chest. 

"I thought we told each other everything" I say pulling away and facing him with my arms crossed over my chest. "You'll know soon enough" he says poking me in my side making me flinch. "Yah! I told you to stop doing that" I say hitting his chest again. "I'm sorry your reaction is just too adorable I can't help it" he says laughing at my irritation. "Whatever" I say exasperated 

"So are you hungry now because I haven't eaten since lunch" I say hoping he's ready to start eating as well. "Nah maybe later" he says sitting back and dragging me along with him knowing that I won't eat without him. "Hey come on I'm hungry" I say, dragging my words out. "Alright fine let's eat" he concedes, sitting back up and letting me go but not before giving me another jab in my side.

Once we finish eating and pull up a movie to watch I can feel him getting a bit restless. 

"What's wrong?" I ask, pulling away from his embrace, concerned with his demeanor all through out the night. "What makes you think somethings wrong?" he answers my question with a question. "You've been acting really weird, like I don't know, different. You're starting to make me nervous" I admit. 

"Nervous how?" he say sitting up and reaching out for my hand. "I don't know I can't really describe it" I say jumping a bit at the contact. "Try" he urges while starting to play with my fingers. "I feel like every time you touch me my skin starts to heat up. When you look at me I can't help but want to either look the other way or get lost in your eyes. When you get too close I start to feel butterflies in my stomach. I'm confused" I say looking away, embarrassed to admit it and contradicting my previous claim. 

"Are you sure I'm the one that's acting different?" he asks, trying to catch my gaze. "Why are you making me feel like this?" I ask, hoping he has the answers like he always does. "Do you wanna know what I was thinking about earlier?" he asks, coming closer and bringing his hand up towards my face to cup my cheek. "Yes" I say getting breathless again. "This" he says leaning in and bringing his face closer to mine.

"I-" I choke out looking down at his lips and back into his eyes once I realize he stopped right before making contact. "I'm not gonna do anything you don't want me to" he says while letting his breath fan my face. "It's your choice" he says glancing down at my lips. I wait a second hesitating before I take a quick breath and close my eyes before leaning forward just enough to make contact. 

It's a soft chased kiss, he tastes so sweet and I can't help but want more. It's over just as quickly as it had started and he pulls away slightly making eye contact and once he sees that I wanted it just as much as he did he leans in again, deepening the kiss and placing his hand on my waist in an effort to pull me closer. 

I oblige and make moves to do just that and he accelerates the process by dragging me over making me straddle his lap. "Hasty are we?" I tease. "Shut up" he says quickly going back in to continue kissing me like I might disappear if he stops. 

It all starts to get more intense once he starts to add tongue, leaving me pulling away for a second, resting my forehead against his in an effort to catch my breath. "You okay? Is this okay?" he asks sounding just as breathless as me. "Yeah just- just give me a second" I say trying to clear the fog that's clouding my judgement at the moment.

"Kook" I say in an effort to get his attention which is ultimately unnecessary since he hasn't been able to take his eyes off me since we started kissing. "Hmm?" he hums waiting for me to continue. "I don't think we should be doing this" I say worried about what his reaction might be. "Why?" he asks, searching my face for answers since I'm not getting them out fast enough. 

"I don't know it's just- well you're my best friend" I start off. "And you're mine" he says reciprocating my statement. "We've been friends since we were kids and I really don't want to mess that up. I care about you too much to do that and I don't want to lose you" I say looking down at my lap suddenly getting shy. 

"Hey" he says placing his finger under my chin to angle my face up regaining eye contact. "You're never gonna lose me" he says with a slight smile. "Well what if we do this and it ends badly? What if one of us gets hurt and we can't go back to how we used to be? What if-" I ramble off but am soon cut off by Jungkook's lips on mine. 

"You worry too much. Y/n it's just me and I'll love you no matter what. You know that right?" I turn away and look off to the side, shy under his piercing gaze. "Kook I-" I start. "Do you love me?" he says cutting me off again. "Of course I love you" I say looking back up at him. "No but do you love me? Like do you think you might be in love with me?" he clarifies vulnerability written all over his face. "Do you think you could fall in love with me?" he says above a whisper, looking back down at my lips waiting for my response.

"I don't know" I say getting off his lap. "Don't know what? You don't think you could fall in love with me?" he asks, pleading for an answer. "I'm confused okay. I don't know how I feel about everything. It's all gotten so complicated, I just- I don't know okay" I throw my head into my hands and feel myself tear up, overwhelmed with all these old and new feelings resurfacing all at once. 

"Luna" he says placing his hand on my thigh when he starts to see the onset signs of a panic attack. "Y/n come here" he says, pulling me closer, shielding me for the cold that had suddenly become more apparent. 

He's been there for me through almost all of my panic attacks and knows exactly how to get me to ride out the wave and gradually calm me down. He knows that I feel safe with him and so he makes sure to use that when I need it most. Pulling a blanket over the two of us he holds me in a gentle embrace and places soft kisses on my temple. 

"It's okay you don't have to say anything, let's just focus on getting through this. It's just me, I'm sorry if I scared you. I'm so sorry" he apologizes, rubbing my back and bringing me back down, hoping to soothe all of the muscles in my body that started to tense up and bring my breathing back to normal. I grab onto his shirt and tug on it in an effort to ground myself, still shaking I start crying into his chest which only worsens the tight feeling I have coiled up in my chest.

My panic attacks aren't usually this bad but for some reason it just started to wash over me. I haven't had a lot of time to process much of anything these days and even when I do I fill up that time with distractions in an effort to drown out all of the thought running through my head that make me dizzy. 

I started to have them around the time my parents passed away and after I met Jungkook. Looking back on it he didn't really do much of anything, he just sat there and waited patiently for me to stop crying, just like he did when we first met. But once we got closer it evolved to him holding onto me to help calm me down and talking me through it a bit. 

Ever since the beginning he wanted to make sure I never felt the need to hide and cry alone like that ever again. He wanted to give me more reasons to smile and laugh than cry. Or at least that's what he's told me. He starts to make an effort to make his breaths more audible trying to get me to follow along with him and I so the best that I can. 

Once I do I pull away and keep my eyes turned down, trying to hide my embarrassment. You think by now I wouldn't be embarrassed by it anymore but I can't help it. Once I stop sniffling and he hears my breathing get back to normal he grabs my face and wipes off my tear streaked cheeks with so much love and care. I didn't realize until now that he really has been in love with me for a very long time, I was just too naïve to notice. 

"You okay baby?" he asks with the term of endearment he knows brings me so much comfort. I don't let anyone but him call me that, it just feels so right hearing it coming from his lips, especially when he knows that I need him. I nod my head finally feeling a bit more grounded.

"Can I have some water?" I ask quietly. "Of course" he says and reaches around me to grab one of the bottles he had bought. "Thank you" I say after he hands it to me. He starts rubbing my back again while I gulp it down, suddenly feeling incredibly parched. 

"How long has it been since you had one that bad?" he asks cautiously hoping it won't cause me to start spiraling again. "A while" I say looking down, knowing it's a lie, and he sees right through it. 

"Baby please I wanna be there for you when things like this happen. You've gotta be honest with me or I won't know how to help you" I nod in acknowledgment. I can feel him reluctantly start to drop the subject but I know he doesn't want me to shut him out. 

"I-it was last month" I say, clearing my throat to help me get it out. "Last month? Why didn't you tell me?" he asks gently. "You were hanging out with your college friends and I knew you were looking forward to it so I didn't want to bother you" I admit. "Luna if you really need me, especially for something like this you can always call me. You are my number one priority, you come first" he says holding onto my hand.

I look up making eye contact, knowing he truly means what he says. "Okay" is all I can say in response, giving him a sad smile. 

"We should probably head out, it's getting pretty cold" he says, bringing his arms back in, rubbing his hands together in an effort to get warmer. "Do you think we could stay out here a bit longer? The stars look so beautiful right now" I ask, looking up at the sky feeling a bit better. He sees the change in my mood and realizes that I need this. "Let me get another blanket" he says showing his agreement. I nod my head and continue looking up, not sparing him a glance this time. 

He comes back around after having rummaged through the car in search of some hand warmers as well. "You're so smart" I say catching the hand warmer and opening package shaking them to activate it. "I know" he replies, copying my cheekiness from earlier. I roll my eyes and toss one to him. 

"Luna" he calls after me. "Huh?" I say looking back at him and I can't help but notice that he's wearing the kind of expression you would see someone make towards someone they truly love. "Come here" he says repeating his sentiment from not too long ago. I rush over to him, this time getting as close to him as I can after feeling a sudden breeze blowing past us.

"Jungkook" I say, "Yes baby?" he replies, looking down at me. "Thank you" I say, giving him a slight smile. "You're welcome" he says, mirroring my smile knowing that no more words need to be said. I feel myself starting to get lost in his eyes once again realizing that the most beautiful stars were in his eyes all along.

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[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Behind the Seams: Part IV

{ Behind the Seams: Part III | Part III: Edgestitch | Series Masterlist }

Welcome to the second instalment of Behind the Seams! For those new to the series, this is a behind-the-scenes deep dive that I post in between chapters for those who are interested in taking a peek at my writing process (mainly because I update so slowly lol). There are spoilers for Edgestitch below the cut, so if you're not caught up, I suggest you come back when you are!

Current status: 3.6k unfinished rough draft

Initial thoughts: The last chapter laid down a few anchor points that I hope will carry the story forward for the next 2 to 3 parts. I still don't have an overarching plan for this series, and there is no 'plot' to speak of other than the unfolding of the relationship between Joel and Pin, and I'm good with that!

After the excitement of the last chapter, it took me a while to get back into the Seams mindset. While we resolved a tiny bit of the sexual tension last chapter, there is still a lot to unpack between these two. The camera is zooming in for this chapter, where we throw Joel and Pin together again, but in a less accident-prone manner as they take things into their own hands rather than leave it up to chance.

The challenge: One word - intimacy. On both their parts.

As Pin alluded to in the last chapter, it's been a long time anyone has even kissed her, let alone anything else. There will be some action in this chapter - I haven't decided to which degree yet - but I want to do it in a way that is sensitive to her history (even though I will leave it vague).

As for Joel, it's also one word - Tess. My Google doc right now cuts off at the beginning of the intimate scene, because I haven't figured out what he's thinking just yet in relation to her. As much as he's falling for Pin, I imagine he might be confused, guilty, probably in denial about his grief. I don't want Seams to get too heavy, and I might not be exploring these themes in Part IV just yet, but these are themes that I'm looking to explore in some way in the series.

Ellie: I was so bowled over by everyone's reaction to Ellie in the last chapter! That really gave me such a confidence boost, and I'm so happy to say that our favourite gremlin is making more of a cameo this chapter. She's great comedic relief while bringing out the dad side of Joel that I just love dipping into.

Joel: Many of you have brought up you're enjoying Joel's thoughts about Jackson and Sarah, and you don't understand how much it means to me. Getting into Joel's head has been one of my favourite things about this series, especially with him trying to figure out how to exist in this place after 20 years of just surviving. Ellie allowing himself to get back in touch with his dad side is another angle that I love delving into. The instincts have never left him, and I'm having so much fun bringing out that side of him.

Something fun: As I teased right here, the white undervest will make a return, and yes, Joel will be sweaty AF in it - I wonder why 🤷🏻‍♀️

Thank you for reading if you've made it this far! As with the last chapter, it helps so much putting my thought process into words, to make space in my head so that I can push forward with the writing. Thank you for indulging me, I hope you enjoyed this one ❤️ I'm always open to chatting, so don't be shy!

[coolbeesbro]

Sinners and Fallen Saints Update!

I was originally planning to have chapter 6 uploaded by last night, but it ended up being much longer than I expected (almost at 5000 words right now) and I'm only about 1/2-2/3 of the way through! I'm hoping to have it done and posted some time this week though! Until then, here's a small excerpt!

Chapter Title: Old Man Yaoi? Niffty No.

Consciousness came to Lucifer slowly; curled up in a space that wasn’t his large and luxurious bed, head resting at an uncomfortable angle on something stiff and solid. Slowley, he blinked his eyes open and let out a large, sleepy yawn. 

This wasn’t his room, and this wasn’t a bed he was sleeping on. The King of Hell let out a miserable groan as he shifted in the armchair he didn’t remember falling asleep in; his fingers gripping a plush red throw blanket as he pulled it further around himself and curled up tighter, face now buried against the back of the chair. It didn’t matter that this was the most uncomfortable place he’d probably ever slept in, he just wanted 5 more minutes. 

Somewhere through the few hours he’d been asleep in Alastor’s strange sitting room, he’d managed to get tangled in his robe; which in turn bunched up his pajama shirt around his chest and armpits. Between the 3 layers of fabric, his body was warm and uncomfortably clammy. Every part of this situation was not ideal; leaving Lucifer to wonder what he was doing with his life. 

Bits and pieces of his conversation with Alastor last night were coming to him; and muddled with the delirium of exhaustion and the vague memory of the dream he had, he was questioning what was and wasn’t said.

Did Alastor tell him he was a vegetarian, and wanted to open up Hell’s first ever fully vegetarian Cat Cafe? There was this cookbook he pulled out of who knows where, full of vegetarian based recipes passed down from his grandfather to his father, then to him? A family tradition full of veggie frittatas and cranberry walnut pancakes?

Wait no, Alastor hated his dad, so the Cat Cafe was definitely a dream. Which was a bit of a relief because Lucifer didn’t want to debate the ethics of feeding cats a vegetarian diet. 

Oh and also Alastor ate people, so that might have been his first que to the authenticity of the idea. Definitely nothing vegetarian about that. 

Lucifer had to consciously stop himself from snickering at the thought that Alastor would be anything but a psychopath. The guy had a hotel resident fully bound to a chair last night for an interrogation. Even going so far as to play light jazz music for some sort of serial killer ambiance. But then again,  Lucifer was also a participant of the incident, so what did that make him?

Damn.

The King of Hell cracked his eyes open once more, training them on the red cretonne upholstery his face was pressed up against. He used the knuckle of his pointer finger to trace over the dips and loops of the gold flowery pattern, the smooth embroidered design feeling ever so slightly different from the rest of the thick fabric. Doing anything and everything but getting up and going to his own room to get ready for the day. 

His ears picked up the sound of a door opening from up above, followed by heeled shoes coming down steps, making Lucifer still his movements. 

“Ok you’ve been out long enough.” Alastor chastised under his breath as he approached the chair the King of Hell was curled up on. The lights in the room flipped on, assaulting his tired eyes with bright warm orange light, “Come on, up up up.” Alastor commanded, clapping his hands loudly.

“Nooo…” Lucifer’s voice was muffled against the back of the seat.

“No whining like a child.” Alastor’s said as the radio on the bookshelf next to him turned on, and Katie Killjoy’s sarcastic voice began to prattle through the crackly speakers:

“—gas station caught fire due to the negligence of a dickhead smoking at the pump. Local crackhead, Morison Morris, says he was there just getting a .98$ coffee at the time of the event.”

“I guess you could say his morning was off to an explosive start!”

“Shut the fuck up Tom—”

Irritably, Lucifer peered over the armrest at the radio and grumbled, “Please stop.” And the radio did just that. Thank you Alastor for the fun new power he held.

“Oh and I bet you think you’re rather cheeky.” Alastor said in a mock-congratulatory tone, “But really, it's 7:30am and Charlie expects us down at 8am sharp for the start of today's activities.”

Lucifer let out a long, tired sigh, “Just 5 more minutes.” He complained, not really registering the words coming out of Alastor’s mouth.

“As flattered as I am that you seem to be so dedicated to staying in my room, you need to get up and go to your own to get ready.”

“Fine fine, I’m up.” He grumbled miserably as he righted himself,  “When did I even fall asleep?” 

“Some time around 4:13am, I believe. Mid sentence you passed out, I was very impressed.” Alastor went on as he watched Lucifer close his eyes and slouch back in the chair, the King of Hell frowning deeply. Alastor walked over to chair Lucifer was still seated miserably in and took the plush red throw blanket off him in one fell swoop, all but pulling Lucifer off the chair and stumbling on his feet, “You now have less than 25 minutes to get to your room, get dressed and be down in the lounge before Charlie starts the day off without you.” He stated as he folded up the blanket and set it on the other seat.

It finally registered in his brain how little time he actually had, Lucifer frantically searched for his slippers— “They’re by the door, now shoo.” Alastor grabbed the shorter man by the shoulders and pushed him in the right direction.

Lucifer jammed his feet into the slippers before swinging open the door to make his leave; and as he dead-sprinted down the hall, he didn’t notice their resident housekeeper by Alastor’s door inspecting the fresh new claw marks carved into the carpet. Niffty, however, noticed him running and completely disheveled in his nightwhere. 

Her interest in the claw marks dragging back to Alastor’s door was now gone, and in its place grew gleeful speculation over what Lucifer was doing spending the night with Alastor. As her large red and yellow eye watched the King of Hell stumble over his slippers, almost face planting in the hallway before catching himself again and continuing his sprint, she let out a devious giggle before running back down the other way and crawling into an open air vent she’d scurried out of originally. Her quickest form of transportation.

[houseki-no-suffering]

HIII are you still alive? how are u doing? I just found out about your account because of a cinnaphos post you made on 2018 (one of them, i dont remember which tho) that randomly popped up for me while I was searching a panel from the manga and since then I have been looking through your tumblr and reading all of your analysis (especially the ones about Phos & Cinnabar) during all night and i loved them all so much and i totally agree with you in everything and you just put every thought and feeling and worries and doubts i have about hnk (and about cinnaphos) ans I just lost a whole night of sleep HELPPPP

as i was looking from your oldest posts till your latest one, i got a feeling that you kind of slowly died inside through all those years and from 2022 to now you seem to have gotten very tired (and more hopeless) about hnk, since your posts started to take longer inbetween gaps and you seemed to be talking less in your newest ones and posting less analysis so i got a little worried (though i know Ichikawa has started to take a liiiittle bit TOO LONG gaps between releasing new chapters and us hnk fans have been forced to take some painful breaks of the series) if you were actually doing alright and if everythings okay in your life in general, is it? (゜.゜)

by the way, i really wanted to ask you a very important question (i know that i will probably sob about it but i might also get hopeful depending on what you think):

do you think that there's canon evidence or, at least, a slight possibility that Phos and Cinnabar may end up being together? or at least come into terms, apologize to each other and have a happy ending for them and their relationship?? that something may happen and make that possible??? waiting anxiously for your answer! hugs, sweetie

hello there, this ask is the main reason i resurfaced for a few secs.

I am definitely alive and okay, sometimes I even update my twitter, I simply feel a disconnect with HnK and Tumblr after everything that happened. Also, now that I am a full time nerd with adult responsibilities, I have little free time to dedicate to this space, even if sometimes I miss this community and how we used to scream all together anytime a new chapter would drop.

Thank u for sticking by and enjoying my posts, carry on the cinnaphos legacy for me but do NOT lose sleep on these pebbles, take it from your internet grandma, take care of yourself. As for your question, I do not think Phos and Shinsha will ever end up together (except in the form of the seventh treasure, which I believe Shinsha ended up being, so yay?). Also, I hate to break it to you, but these rocks are no longer part of this plane of existence thanks to Phos praying everyone away and initiating 3rd impact. We can always dream tho, that's what fanfics are for.

[grahamfolgersdeliciousnotebooks]

There were a lot of instances, really, that could be considered their "first kiss." A look at some moments that might, depending on your perspective, count as Jon and Martin's first kiss. For the Jonmartin week day 1 prompt "First Kiss" - Updates one chapter a day, every day of Jonmartin Week.

For day 8 of @jonmartinweek, here's chapter 8 of my "first kiss" fic! Enjoy some post-Lonely content, and Jon and Martin's first kiss (or their ninth, depending on how you count it)!

They ended up in Martin’s apartment, after everything.

They didn’t have a lot of other options. Jon had been functionally homeless ever since the coma, and he wasn’t eager to return to the archives. So Jon let himself be led by the Eye to Martin’s doorstep, and Martin let himself be led by Jon.

Martin didn’t say anything, and Jon didn’t press. He just held firmly onto Martin’s hand to reassure himself that he hadn’t disappeared again.

He dropped his hand when they finally arrived, and the pair stood in the foyer, awkward and uncertain. Martin looked numb and entirely lost, and Jon knew he would need to take charge of the situation, but he was at a loss for what to do. The only suggestion he could think to make was a weak,

“Tea?”

Martin nodded, and Jon shuffled into the kitchen to make it. He couldn’t keep from glancing behind him as he worked, to where Martin still stood in the entryway, staring blankly into space. He didn’t move until the kettle began to whistle. Then he startled, and snapped all at once out of whatever trance he’d been lost in.

“Oh, here,” he murmured, coming into the kitchen and raising his hands to help, “Let me…”

“I’ve got it,” Jon said softly. He poured the hot water into two mugs and stirred in the sugar while Martin watched him with an open, aching look of want. There was something oddly wounded in his expression, too. He stared at Jon’s hands, bobbing the teabags in the water, like he wanted to touch them but knew, somehow, that they would burn him.

“Here,” Jon said when he had discarded the tea bags and added the milk. Martin accepted it with a mumbled, 

“Thanks.” Their fingers brushed as he handed over the mug, and Jon flinched against the cold of Martin’s hand.

“You’re freezing.”

“Sorry,” Martin mumbled, and Jon hated it – hated the blankness in his voice, hated the instinctual way he took on blame, as though everything about him was something that required an apology, the same way he had in the Lonely.

“No, it’s– You should really change, though. Your clothes are soaked.”

“You should, too,” Martin said, because Jon’s own clothes were still damp through from all that damned fog.

“I– I don’t have any spare clothes.”

“I could lend you some,” Martin said. He set down his mug. “Come on. This is too hot to drink right now, anyway.”

He led Jon to his bedroom and picked out some clothes for him – a pair of grey joggers and an old tee shirt with the words Magnus Institute Library Team Building Retreat 2013 printed on the front.

“I’ll just be a second,” Jon said before excusing himself to the bathroom to change.

The clothes were several sizes too big. It took quite a bit of cinching the drawstring waist before the joggers would stay up, and the shirt hung awkwardly off his thin frame, exposing his clavicle and most of his shoulder. It was not the most flattering outfit he had ever worn, but it was warm and dry, and smelled pleasantly of laundry soap.

When he stepped out into the hallway, Martin was already there, changed into a dry pair of jeans and a thick sweater. He glanced at Jon in his ill-fitting borrowed clothes, and for the first time in a very long time, Jon caught him smiling.

“I know, I know,” he muttered. “I look ridiculous.”

“No, you– you look nice.”

Jon opened his mouth. It seemed important to say something to that, though he was at a loss for quite what. Before he could make up his mind, his phone began to buzz in his pocket.

“Basira,” he told Martin when he checked the screen. “I should take this.”

He wandered into the living room while he spoke to her. She updated him on the state of Daisy, the Hunters, and the police, and Jon let her know that they’d gone back to Martin’s apartment.

“How is he?” 

“He’s… alive,” Jon said, because it was too early to say if he was fine, or safe, or unharmed. But once he’d said it, the truth of his words finally sank in. A disbelieving laugh escaped him as he repeated, suddenly giddy, “He’s alive, Basira!”

They both agreed that he and Martin should leave London as quickly as possible, and she told him that Daisy had a safehouse where they could lay low for a time.

“What’s Martin’s address? I’ll swing by and give you the key.”

“I can text it to you in a second…”

“No. No text conversations, no paper trails,” Basira said. It was hard to make out exactly what she said next, given their shaky phone connection, but it sounded a whole lot like she muttered, “...can’t believe we never caught you.”

When Jon hung up, Martin was hovering in the doorway between the corridor and the living room, and he was crying.

“Martin!”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I-I’m sorry I worried you. I’m sorry for all of it.” His voice was soft and shattered, and Jon remembered his own voice, too excited to consider volume. He’s alive, Basira! Martin would have to have heard it. 

“Martin,” Jon said again, more warmly this time. He closed the distance between them and pulled Martin close until their foreheads were resting against each other. “You don’t need to apologize.” Martin was solid beneath his touch, but the memory of how evanescent he’d been, just an hour before, loomed in his mind. “Just stay with me,” he whispered, and Martin flashed him a weak smile.

“Always.”

Their faces were so close Jon could feel the warmth of Martin’s breath sigh across his cheeks.

Jon paused a moment, savoring the closeness, the solid, certain weight of Martin against him. Then he tilted his head up to close the last remaining space between them and pressed his lips to Martin’s.

Martin responded immediately, reaching up to clutch at Jon’s back, pulling him closer, kissing him back with a desperation Jon was only too willing to match. When Jon licked into his mouth, he let out a high, keening, hungry noise that made Jon shiver. He wanted quite badly to make Martin make that noise again.

Nipping gently at Martin’s bottom lip did the trick, he learned to his delight. Letting the hand that wasn’t gripping Martin’s hair drift down to his waist and slip under his shirt provoked a higher, more surprised noise that Jon liked almost as much. He would have gladly spent the whole night cataloguing the sounds, but he felt something wet roll across his cheek, and he realized with a jolt that Martin was crying.

He pulled away instantly and began to apologize. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he stammered. “Is– is this too soon?”

Martin shook his head. “No,” he whispered, “it’s a year too late.”

Jon’s heart sank. He should have known, he should have realized he’d missed his chance. Martin caught his expression, and his eyes widened.

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean–” He scrubbed at his wet cheeks and let out a quiet laugh. “How am I still mucking this up?” he whispered to himself. Jon just watched him, wide-eyed. “I meant,” he said finally, leaning down to press one more chaste kiss to Jon’s lips, “that we have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

And Jon wasn’t going to argue with that.

[dtabookclub]

Q&A

What is Down To Agincourt (often abbreviated as DTA)?

An apocalyptic Destiel fanfic series set in the endverse universe. You can click here to access the series on AO3. Oh, and it's over a million words long (more on this later).

What's the book club and how can I join?

A discord server for anyone who is interested to read along and discuss the series. This is a google calendar link to the discussion timeline. Click here to join the discord if you are interested!

General rules and disclaimers about the server:

This is an adult space. Discussion of adult themes is allowed, but please be respectful (i.e. if someone requests a trigger warning, please be courteous). No racism, sexism, transphobia, antisemitism, ableism, or other form of discrimination is permitted. Please also know that I am reading this for the first time along with you, so i may not be able to provide content warnings ahead of time. If anyone is rereading with us and would be willing to do this, please reach out

How long is it again? How much time will this take me?

1,121,311 words (which is pretty long)! If you follow my schedule, you will be reading an average 11,000 words a day (exact numbers depends on chapter length), for 101 days. This is a similar pace to reading a book the same length as A Picture of Dorian Gray per week. Note that for the first two fics in the series, it's a bit higher (~14-15k per day), and lower for the third fic (~16k every two days) Another good frame of reference for word count would be the complete Potter series. (I am loath to even acknowledge JK, but this is a good way to put the length in perspective, as most people are familiar with the series). Of course, these examples are all different reading levels, and how long it takes will ultimately depend on your own reading speed

Can anyone join?

The fics in this series are rated mature to explicit, so I do ask that you do not join if you are under the age of 18. Since this will be my first time reading through as well, I am not familiar enough with the material to say whether it is suitable for minors. Other than that, pretty much anyone is welcome! You do not need to follow me or anyone else (though you might want to follow this blog for updates).

When does it start? What's the exact timeline?

The discussion for chapter one will start on May 22nd, and the final chapter will finish on August 30th. This gives people a little time to get the word out, or get a head start on reading! Discussion of each day's chapter can begin at 12 am eastern time. If google calendar does not work for anyone, please let me know! I would be happy to type it out as a list if needed

What if I fall behind? Or read ahead?

There will be separate channels for people who are behind schedule and ahead of schedule. Please make sure to read and follow the spoiler tagging guidelines when using these channels. (These will be pinned in each channel)

Are re-readers welcome?

Absolutely! In fact, it would be great to have some people who are already familiar with the series. For example, since it will be my first time reading through, I won't be able to provide content warnings for those who ask; if someone who has read the fics already would be willing to fill this role, I'm sure it would be appreciated. As long as you follow the spoiler rules, we're happy to have you!!! There is also a channel just for rereaders where you can discuss the entire series with no spoiler tagging required

I have a suggestion/idea/other question

great! Send me an ask on here or discord (and feel free to use anon if you are more comfortable with that) :)

[friendly-neighbourhood-archon]

Hello! After Everything is one of my absolute favorite fics. I love how almost everyone survives, I love the catharsis of seeing paragraphs about a character’s insecurities before they’re proven to be unfounded and they have no reason to worry, I love all the identity reveal drama, and many more things. I’m also consistently impressed that you update weekly, and was wondering if you had any advice on the matter?

I recently started fic writing, and am already struggling to maintain weekly updates. I certainly want to write, and I have ideas and even an outline for the next chapter, but every time I try to sit down to write, it feels more and more like work. Even when I do writing warm-ups or try to read something right before I write. I’m afraid if I push myself to write when I don’t want to, I’ll get burnt out, but I do want to keep up with writing as a hobby, and want to continue the story. Any advice for how to maintain regular updates?

Thank you so much for responding, and I hope you have a good day!

Hello!!! Oh my god, thank you so so much for your sweet words!! I'm incredibly happy you like AE so much! Thank you so much for reading my beloved little work! ❤ ❤

As for advice, I certainly have some that has worked for me in the past 2+ years of writing AE. I have never published anything this long or anything this consistent before (on the contrary, I was notorious for abandoning fics because of years and years of writers' block, so I'm telling you the longer AE got the more terrified I was of the dreaded block setting in - so far no sign though, luckily😂)

I'm someone who can't push myself to write if i don't want to. It simply doesn't work for me. I have to at least want a little bit.

What I like to do is whenever I have my laptop or computer on when I'm home, i open the document of the chapter i'm working on. Even when i don't plan on writing because i'm doing housework, for example. But eventually i might get a good idea while working on something else and write, even if it's just two sentences.

It might surprise you, but I don't warm-up nor do I draft or have written outlines. I don't even have a written plot-outline. It's all in my head exclusively. Which i'm surprised about myself considering i started writing AE when i still had pretty bad bain fog. But for me, writing down outlines doesn't help, I write as I go and how I feel it works.

Sometimes you need the set-up to be different. Like if you intend for a chapter to start at point A but you cannot for the life of you get ahead writing from there, then maybe point A needs to change.

In a similiar way, if you feel stuck at the point where you're at, maybe just place down a big red X at this spot as a placeholder. Then create some space to show that there's content missing, and keep writing from a later point in that chapter. Sometimes we're just not in the right mood to write that certain point, so no shame in skipping it and coming back to it later.

Something that can also work, depending how your fic is set up, is changing the point of view. As you know, I like to use multiple different points of views in no particular order. When starting AE i considered alternating between Childe and Zhongli, but i realized that wouldn't work. Because it would force me to write certain chapters in a POV that would work better from another persons'. So now when I feel a chapter isn't flowing, I rewrite what I have from another person's POV. Like this i can focus more on things like the thoughts and feelings of the people involved and how they see the world around them.

Also don't be shy to not make it weekly updates, but bi-weekly or even monthly ones. Match your update rhythm to your writing rhythm, not the other way around. I used to update every 4 days for a while because I was so impatient. Then health problems and work stress flared up, so i went to weekly updates because that is what I can achieve most of the time in a pretty comfortable manner. My chapters are only a bit over 3k words. Trust me, as both a reader and author, your readers will be there wether you push yourself for weekly updates or take it at a more leisurely pace and update monthly.

If you can and you are inspired, try to build a bit of "buffer chapters". Back when I started, every chapter I had, i immediately posted, as I mentioned. Now, I managed to get ahead a bit, I've published chapter 155 this week and am writing 158 currently. This also buys me extra time, because if i get stuck on a chapter, I'm now not immediately stressed that it needs to be ready for the next update day, I still have plenty of time left to get it done.

Sometimes, bouncing ideas back and forth with friends can also help. Someone whose judgement you trust. I've gotten some nice little ideas that I incorporated over time by talking to some friends, which then helped me keep going. Or even with small things like "I'm thinking of doing X, do you think that's too much?". I'm usually anxious about people not liking what i'm coming up with (yes, even still after all this time, even more so the closer we move to the sequel of AE as well, because I have so many big plot points still-)

I hope some of these might be helpful for you!

Don't hesitate to message me again if you'd like to talk or have questions 😊❤

Hope you have a good day too!!

[therentyoupay]

Hi, I was just wondering if technical difficulties is abandoned?

I hope you’re doing well!

*drops in after 5 years and 4 months with a technical difficulties chapter update*

*disappears*

cover art made by @angel-gidget ♡

03/08/23. HELLO, HELLO, HELLO, ALL, LONG LONG LONG TIME, NO SEE. ♡ Can you believe it? When I first published this story (first to tumblr, then to ao3), I had just moved to Japan! When I posted ch. 7, I was still living in Japan, and would stay there for another 7ish months... and in the 5 years and 4 months since posting the last chapter, I have moved to three different cities in the United States and started a Ph.D. program. (I am currently halfway through my PhD program!!!!!) What a wild ride. Also, we lived through the pandemic?! And I bought a house! Over the summer! The market was vicious.

So, then how did I get the inspiration/time/energy/motivation to write Ch. 8, you ask? Marvelous question. I lied down in bed last night to go to sleep "early" and ended up reading an utterly hilarious play-by-play commentary on Bad Books, Good Times of a popular fantasy novel series—and I'm not quite sure what it was about "poorly written books explained by hilariously clever book lovers" but I suddenly had a craving for fanfiction, so I opened up my Books app on my phone, and my eyes fell upon a sudden recommendation for my downloaded copy of technical difficulties. And I thought, "Am I suddenly and weirdly in the mood to jot down some notes to start Ch. 7 right now? By golly, I think I am."

4.5 hours later, I'd written the whole damn thing from scratch on my phone in my Notes app. (Messily! Half-assed! But I wrote all of it down!) I then spent another 6.5 hours today filling in the gaps and "editing." This chapter (and the one that will follow it) has been in my head for more than half a decade, but I just haven't had the space to get it out until now!!

I think one of the most beautiful parts of getting a PhD is how completely it blows your perfectionism tendencies utterly to bits, and one of the really interesting byproducts that has come up in my acdemic writing is just how quickly I can crank out decent-enough writing (skill-building!!). In my case, I think so much of it has to do with just being able to word vomit fairly well while not trying to fix anything until the whole damn thing is basically done. So, I applied that knowledge here! Behold!

This isn't to say that I'll be writing the final chapter anytime soon—I may be on spring break right now and may have had a stroke of Writing Inspiration in the Wild™ last night, but I'm still finishing my last semester of classes and learning advanced Python and working on my milestone paper for my doctoral program and preparing to present at my next conference in June and preparing my proposal for my dissertation next fall. BUT! The important thing is that I will post the last chapter of this story (and all my other stories)! Eventually!! ;)

No BETA for this chapter because I gotta THROW this out onto the internet and get back to coding, so bear with! I may do minor edits for it in the near or distant future. Also, please note that I have not watched any episodes of Miraculous Ladybug after the finale of Season 1, so this fic is very much a ~time capsule~ from the past. If there is any additional lore that might otherwise apply to the plot of this fic, please know that I don't know about it, and I am keeping myself selectively ignorant on all matters of Miraculous Ladybug season 2 and beyond until after I finish this story the way I originally intended. ♡ Woo!

as for, tumblr, sadly, to be honest, I'm never really online anymore! I'll respond to comments here on ao3 ASAP, though. ♡ LOVE YOU ALL, THANK YOU. ♡♡♡