#this edit was on my mind ever since a year ago when this hell show was on air

[khaopybara]

❝What's your role in a bar?❞

HAPPY ONE-YEAR ANNIVERSARY, ONLY FRIENDS!

[urhoneycombwitch]

heated touch

Eddie Munson x Reader summer edition.

foreword: “but Lulu it’s not even summer yet how come you wrote a pool fic” okay first of all global warming. it’s absolutely summer rn. hush up and eat up. 👼

cw: R wears bikini top + skirt, Eddie is Down Bad™️, and is also touchstarved, brief use of the awkward miscommunication trope, R’s baby hairs mentioned but no color or texture, weed mention (Robin is a stoner canon change my mind u can’t), R uses sunscreen (no skin color mentioned), implied plus-sized reader

wc: 3.4k

___

It’s the first real, normal, non-apocalyptic summer that anyone can remember having in a long, long time. 

With the heat index at a sizzling 97 today, various members of the Party have taken over Steve’s half-shaded, half-pool extravaganza of a backyard. The kids are jumping in and out of the bright blue water, splashing and cackling, while you and Robin stretch out like house cats in a sunny patch of grass nearby.

You, mere yards away, in a swim top and sweet little pleated tennis skirt. All that lovely skin on display, glistening in the light. 

And Eddie is sulking, indoors, frozen with lovesickness. There’s condensation dripping from the forgotten can of beer in his left hand; through the window above the kitchen sink, Eddie observes the scene in mournful silence.

“Christ, you really are a pussy.”

Eddie whips around with a glare that would level a normal human being, shushing Steve with a panicked fierceness that only makes the guy chuckle harder at Eddie’s expense. 

“Y’know,” Steve continues with the insults, dipping into the fridge and reappearing with a Fanta and a shit-eating grin- “You might want to try leering like a creep from the garage window. That way no will hear you jack off-”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Harrington.” Eddie interrupts with a grade-A scoff and eye roll combo, rivaling Steve’s own bitchiness. “Wasn’t your last successful date back in high school, like, six years ago when you had better hair?”

Steve doesn’t even flinch. With condescending sympathy, he sighs and shakes his head of (beautiful-even-when-wet, damn him) hair, snapping the soda can tab with a flourish. “Might wanna hurry up and make a move. Can’t suppress my charm forever just ‘cuz you’re too chicken to man up- it’s not natural to keep all of this hidden away.”

Steve gestures to the broad expanse of his golden chest, dark thicket of hair sitting proud, the scars that he seems to have no qualms over showing off criss-cross along the flex of muscle at his sides. 

Realistically, Eddie knows Steve wouldn’t go after you, not even as a joke. It would defy the honorable and unmentioned Bro Code they’ve lived by ever since Eddie almost died in an alternate hell dimension and Steve valiantly pulled him back topside. 

Teasing, though? It’s Harrington’s godgiven right- especially since Eddie’s so hopelessly in love. It’s almost too easy to get him riled up, to light a fire under his ass to maybe finally get the situation some forward movement. 

Flames lick at the kindling. Steve walks backwards, shooting Eddie one last finger gun and wink before rejoining the boisterous outdoors crowd. Through the crack Steve’s left in the sliding glass door, Eddie can hear that asshole’s cheery voice ring out- “Lookin’ good, ladies!”- and your subsequent peal of laughter. 

Eddie can feel the heat through the black denim at his ass, sweat rushing to prickle at his pits underneath the light layer of tanktop- the one with a high-necked collar and sides long enough to conceal most of his scars. 

Not that he’s trying to hide ‘em, perse... they’re just sensitive to the sun. Plus his black jeans have holes in them, so they totally count as summer attire. He’s basically wearing shorts right now. Steve can suck it.

“Suck it, Steve,” Eddie grits out to no one for good measure, before taking a steadying gulp of beer and stepping bravely out beyond the glass doors. 

It’s shockingly bright, sun bouncing off the surface of the pool and rendering Eddie momentarily blind; he shields his eyes with his free hand in time to catch the tail end of Sinclair’s mid-air somersault.

“Five,” Max calls out, lounging safely out of the splash zone, waves from Lucas’s cannonball lapping at her pink donut pool float. Thick black prescription sunglasses take up half her face, expression unmoved even as her boyfriend splutters in the deep end.

“Are you kidding?” Lucas is indignant as he huffs and treads water. “Gimme at least an eight. Did you even see the flip?” 

“I saw it.” Unimpressed, Max shrugs a freckled shoulder. While Lucas devolves into swearing out his complaints (already with one elbow planted on the concrete to get out and make another attempt at a higher score), Max zeros in on Eddie, one brow arched high in searing appraisal. “You gonna swim with your boots on, too?”

“I’m- shut up, Red. Nice donut.”

Max’s triumphant smirk confirms what Eddie already knows (he totally bombed that comeback), but if there’s one thing in the world Eddie’s good at, it’s Pretending. A trait forged and perfected over the years of being reigning Dungeon Master; it’s served him well during D&D sessions, and when running from the law. 

And it’s coming in handy now, too, as Eddie walks past Steve (half-snoozing in a lounger) and the table of Baby Byers and Wheeler Jr. (playing an intense game of Slapjack), pretending to be totally Normal and Chill as he approaches you and Robin, a ways off from the bustling pool.

Go with what you know, Eddie tells himself, because if he focuses for more than two seconds on the fact that you’re stretched prone, sunlight filtering through the big tree overhead and illuminating the soft curves of your thighs just visible under the Spandex hem of your skirt, he’s gonna have a pressing issue that will be anything but pretend.

Robin’s lying on her back on the beach towel next to yours, a tattered copy of Pride and Prejudice held up close, obscuring her field of vision. Using this to his advantage, Eddie crouches on his haunches, then leans in to press his cold can of beer to the tender arch of Robin’s bare foot.

She yelps, kicking out on instinct (which Eddie was expecting). He manages to take the brunt of the hit with a forearm block, but doesn’t see the paperback coming until it’s hitting the side of his face.

“Ow, christ, Buckley,” he moans, slumping to sit on Robin’s towel, hamming up the victim act for your sake and sympathy while Robin snatches up her book and gives him another solid thwack, pages fluttering.

At the commotion, you’d lifted your head from your arms, leaning into them now with the weight of your upper half. Eddie tries really, really valiantly to not stare at your swimsuit top (practically a bra), and instead distracts himself with the fact that you were giggling. At him. 

Give the boy an inch and he’ll take a mile, Wayne is wont to say of his nephew. Never been truer than now, as Eddie gets drunk off your attention and humors, crowding familiarly and rudely into Robin’s space just to piss her off more and to keep your twinkling-eyed focus.

“Yech.” Robin gags. “I’m not gonna sit here and watch you two flirt up close. I just ate lunch.”

Eddie’s worried that comment will embarrass you into pulling away but apparently, you’re not shying from the accusations of his affection anymore. 

A snort and a sardonic eye roll is what you dish back, and Eddie latches on, delighted to have a Shit Starter in Crime, pushing an honest hand to his chest in faux-shock- “Flirting? Me? I’d never. What an accusation. You’re getting crazier by the day, Buckley.”

The peal of laughter that ripples from you is like a song, vibrating the frequencies between Eddie’s ears, scrambling all the channels with its aching beauty.

Goddamn addictive, he thinks, as the white-out of his hearing fades back to normal. A light, warm wind rustles through the big oak overhead, leaves shushing together; allowing himself a glance at your stretched form, Eddie’s (un)luckily close enough to see the smattering of goosebumps rise on the skin of your arms. 

To observe the way sweat curls the baby hairs near your temple, at the nape of your neck. To see the little creases near the corner of your eyes as you close them, turning your face into the wind, a quiet expression of summer bliss on your face.

Eddie could sit here for hours like a (happy) creep just taking in every minute detail, but Robin starts bitching at him about the weed he still owes her from ages ago, poking her cold toes into the holes of his jeans, mischievous and irritating.

Eddie smacks at her ankles until she pulls them back, matching her argument point for point; it’s not about the weed, of which he’d gladly give- it’s about keeping that smile on your face even as you sit up to start digging through your nearby tote bag.

“And plus,” Robin’s saying, sticking a finger into the dimple of Eddie’s left cheek like the obnoxious little sister he never asked for, “You scratched the everliving hell out of my bike last month when you insisted you were sober enough to ride it home.”

“What’d you want me to do, drink and drive? Not very Just Say No Club of you.” Eddie is operating on autopilot with his responses, absorbed in the way your delicate fingers move inside the canvas of the bag. 

“I wanted the same thing that I currently. Want.” Two more ice-cold prods of her toes into the same spot of his exposed knee. “Three grams, pre-rolled, plus an apology.”

Eddie is about to give in with the promise of the rest of his sizable stash and a bike waxing regimine with his own spit thrown into the mix to get Robin off his case, when the sound of your voice cuts through the bickering. 

In your hand, held aloft and out between the three of you, is a bottle of sun lotion. Your focus is fixed on shaking displaced items back into your bag, not looking as you make a request:

“Babe, would you do my back?”

Eddie moves on instinct before he even has time to process the ask, reaching out towards the palm tree-printed plastic- but for some reason, Robin’s hand collides with his mid-air. Goddammit, Buckley. 

His annoyance at Robin quickly gives way to confusion, then roiling embarrassment as two sets of eyes whip to him, your mouth slightly parted in an o shape and Robin making a squeak of awkward alarm.

You were talking to Robin. Obviously, you were talking to your girl friend to rub you down with lotion. 

Jesus christ, Munson, get a grip.

Eddie lets go at the same time Robin and you draw back, the three of you stammering half-sentences over the thunk of the bottle hitting the ground.

“I meant- sorry, god, sorry, I meant Robin-”

“Fucking- jesus, of course you meant Robin, I’m sorry-”

“Oh god! I can do it! It’s fine!”

There’s a brief pause where all of you stare down at the bottle, as if it holds some great mystery of the world. Or is perhaps concealing a time-bending device that will let Eddie go back twenty seconds to kick himself in the head.

He’s just about to make some lame excuse to fuck off forever when Robin beats him to it, jumping up with a spastic, nervous energy. “Um. Steve’s calling me. So I gotta… see what that dingus wants. You’re good?”

This last part, directed at you; with a quick, reassuring nod, you say “I’m good.” 

Seemingly recouped from the whole debacle, you squint up at Robin- “Eddie’s got it,” and then fixing Eddie with a disarmingly beatific smile- “Right?”

It’s like looking into the sun. Eddie is pretty sure his neurons haven’t been firing properly ever since he caught a glimpse of your thighs earlier. By some miracle, he manages coherence- “Uh-huh. Yep. Right.”

“O-o-kay.” Robin lets the word expand, then gives a dorky two-finger salute and makes for the empty pool lounger next to a snoring Steve.

Then it’s just you and Eddie, blinking at each other from your seats on opposing towels, until you lean to pick up the bottle, this time handing it directly to him. 

An invitation, paired with a smile that still pulls at the corners of your mouth.

Someone jumps noisily into the pool, a few scattered cheers accompanying the crashing water. Red’s distant “Nine-five!” echoes through the backyard and this, of all things, spurs Eddie into unfreezing.

He takes the proffered lotion, shifting to kneel in the strip of grass not covered by either of your towels, waiting and watching for your approval. 

Like something out of a dream, you lower yourself face-down again, hands tucking themselves sweetly into the space between the hollows of your shoulders and the ground. Eyes half-lidded as Eddie scooches closer.

“Just on your back?” He asks, soft, like you’re a deer about to spook (although based on the way his hands are trembling, Eddie’s the more likely candidate for chickening out and running for the hills).

“Mhm. Please.”

Fumbling under your sidelong gaze, Eddie wiggles all the rings from his fingers, stuffing them into his pocket. 

“Too cold,” he explains, feeling fidgety from your eye contact, rubbing his hands together briskly to bring out the warmth and give them something to do other than shake.

Eddie pines for a cigarette, a quick burst of nicotine to steel his nerves. Instead, he picks up the sunscreen, squeezes a quarter-sized puddle into his left hand, and shifts to kneel close as he can without actually bumping his knees into your side.

The sunscreen is already warmed from being out in the heat of the day, so Eddie starts on your left shoulder. Dips his fingers into the puddle, spreads a thin layer on the blade of your shoulder, and rubs it in. 

At first, his touch is gentle and apprehensive, but when your eyes drift shut on the second pass of his fingers, Eddie gets a bit bolder. On your right shoulder, another layer of suncream goes on, but this time, Eddie lets his thumb slip into the grooves under your shoulder blade. 

He runs his thumb along the stripe of muscle next to your scapula, still with pressure light enough to feign keeping to his task, thrilled when you make a soft noise of satisfaction.

“I would’ve asked you, y’know.” 

Eddie pauses, hand resting at the top of your spine, the skin of your neck freshly glistening and tacky from his work. “Asked me what?”

“To do this.” You shrug a shoulder, pointing in a roundabout way at your back. “I just… I didn’t think you’d say yes.”

“Why the hell would I say no to this?” The words are out before Eddie can bite them back and find a much more cool and normal thing to say. He can feel your chuckle, the vibrations of it, the way it causes the muscles in your upper back to move.

Eddie tries to cover his lameness by refocusing on the mission he’s been given, like a heroic knight bestowed with a great honor by a fair maiden… on second thought, he’s got to cut out the fantasy metaphors. This situation is wild and tempting enough as-is without adding a potentially very horny layer to the mix.

“You can get under my top, if you want,” you murmur, lashes dark against your cheek in profile, voice all honeyed and fair-maiden-like. 

Eddie swallows hard. Distributes the rest of the lotion between two palms, rests them just below the black fabric, and then slides up. Underneath the top, your skin is the same- smooth and pliant and sweet. 

“Feels nice,” you whisper, eyes still closed in reverie, sounding sleepy and relaxed.

Eddie is entranced with the way your muscles move under his touch. He applies a bit more pressure to the mid-back area of your spine, dragging his thumbs down on either side. You make another noise, this one closer to a moan, and Eddie’s really glad he’s practiced at the skill of Boner Killer On Command because he wouldn’t dare sully the atmosphere with ill-timed arousal (though his limits are certainly being tested today).

“Sorry about the callouses,” he says, a bit of self-deprecation to fill the air because he’s gotta focus on something other than the way his hand fits perfectly in the center of your low back.

“S’okay. I like them, actually. You’re good with your hands.”

Not for the first time, Eddie is relieved that you’re not looking at him- his ears are burning, on their way to bright pink. Same with his cheeks. “Cool, yeah. That’s good. Um. I play guitar, y’know so… I get around.”

After cringing at himself, Eddie watches the apple of your cheek round upwards with a smile, a sharp flash of your teeth as you say, “I can tell.”

There’s an amiable quiet that falls over the two of you; in the background, splashes and chattering from the pool group float in the air, muted by the warm winds shushing through overhead branches. 

At one point, Eddie realizes he’s covered your whole back in sunscreen and is now just trailing his fingertips over the notches of your spine, starting low and ending near your neck, following the path down again in a loop. If you mind, you don’t say anything, seemingly sated by his touch. 

There’s an aching behind Eddie’s ribs. It squeezes at his heart, makes his next breath pinch- he wants to touch you like this all the time. He’s already hooked. 

All too soon, you’re peeling yourself from the blanket, sitting up with a sheepish smile. Eddie can’t tell if you’re getting shy on him from the touch alone, or if it’s the fact that he’s the one that’s been touching. 

Either way, if Eddie could find a more chill way to say “I’d like to do that every minute for the rest of my life if you’ll let me,” he’d say it to appease any worries you may have. 

Bare knees pulled to your chest, you gesture at the bottle still in Eddie’s hand. “I could… do you, if you wanted?”

Eddie scratches the back of his neck, through the heated curtain of curls. “Nah, that’s okay. My abs won’t be ready to debut until the end of summer. 1993.”

He’s expecting at least a chuckle out of you, but instead, he’s fixed with a kind, all-knowing look. 

The two of you are face to face, your shin close enough to brush Eddie’s ribs as you state, “Not a fan of the heat, are you.”

“What gave it away?” Eddie gestures animatedly at the humidity-fed frizz of his hair, then shakes his head like a wet dog. 

When you catch one of his curls between two fingers he freezes, heart slamming to a pause as you loop it around a knuckle.

“I have some deep conditioner at my place. Could help you out if you wanna come by some time.”

Mere inches from his cheek as you lean in, Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, trying to memorize how you smell- coconutty from the lotion, a bit sweaty, a faint hint of deodorant and the vanilla perfume you spray in the mornings. 

He’s never been this close before. 

He feels electric. Or more accurately, like he’s been electrocuted, and he’s waiting for you to restart his heart. 

“Does that sound good, Eddie? You, me, some hair care… maybe a movie? I can steal some from Family Video. I know a guy.”

At his ear now, your voice is low as you wrap a hand around the inside of Eddie’s arm- it’s his turn to break into goosebumps. “Oh yeah? Willing to steal for me already?”

This earns him a stellar laugh, head tipped back to show the curve of your perfect neck. You shove at him playfully, and he’s about to snap up your hand to bite as payback when your name is yelled from across the yard.

“Come on, we need another unbiased judge!” Max waves urgently from the pool as Lucas and Dustin get into an increasingly loud argument over the Olympic grading system. 

“Goddamn kids.” This comes out much more growly than Eddie intended; you just chuckle and squeeze his arm before pulling away to stand.

Eddie mourns the loss of your body heat until you extend a hand towards him, saying, “Let’s go humor our goddamn kids, and we can talk about dinner afterwards.”

It’s like your hand is made to fit inside Eddie’s. He follows close on your heels, heart thudding a steady, overjoyed rhythm once more. 

[jeonqkooks]

our beloved summer | jjk (7.5) (m.)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: exes au, fluff, Angst, smut; THE REASON™️, crying because obviously there's gonna be crying, mentions of hobi leaving :(, cursing, uhm she hits him; kissing (well, of course 😂), br*ast play, t*tty s*cking, oral s*x (f. receiving), f*ngering, unprotected s*x, r*ding, cr*ampie, uhm idk i think that's it word count: 6.9k (poetic, i know) note (1): holy fucking shit i am literally shaking like a chihuahua as i'm writing this a/n. what the hell it's finally here. we've been waiting for this for almost a year and a half. TREMENDOUS thanks to Jo @daechwitatamic, Ari @/wintaerbaer (edited 2024: crossed out but not removed bc even tho she plagiarized obs afterward, she did beta this for me so i guess i still gotta give her that lmfao), and Jazz @jeonwiixard for beta-ing this for me and for reassuring me that it's not a load of crap (probably) and especially Jo for telling me if i back out she'll come kick me. frick! gaaaah. okay i'm gonna let you read or i'll go out of my mind

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

I want you to smile, to feel like enough 'Cause you deserve yellow and lions and love I hope you come back when you're doing well Forgive me for being the worst of myself

New Recording 28 - Chelsea Cutler

The second the door is closed, his mouth is on yours again. 

His hand on your waist, yours in his hair, it’s similar to how it was mere minutes ago, just the urgency has increased tenfold. You want his suit off as much as you want your dress on the floor.

Jungkook detaches from your lips to let you breathe as he cages you between his body and the door, but it’s not like you can focus very well on breathing when he starts kissing down your neck, sucking bruises into your skin. His hands travel south, one palm curving around your hips to grope your ass, the other settling on the back of your thigh to lift it up, opening your legs wider so he could better slot in between them. With your leg lifted, it makes the slit in your dress ride up, exposing your core to the cool air of the room. You can feel his growing bulge pressed against you, right over your panties. 

You whimper his name when he sucks on the sweet spot on your neck, his hips grinding against you slowly.

“Yeah?” You can hear the smirk in that one simple word and the honey that drips from his voice. “What is it?”

“Want you…”

“I’m right here,” Jungkook says. His slender fingers rub you over the pink lace that you’re wearing underneath your dress, teasing your opening through the fabric for a few beats before he pushes your panties aside. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

His breath is hot on your neck. He presses his lips against your skin absentmindedly, the tip of his index circling you but not pushing inside just yet.

“Tell me you want me too,” you pant, your arm hooking around his neck to hold him close.

“I want you.”

Truth.

You pull him in for another bruising kiss before you blindly push him further into the room, your hands roaming the broad expanse of his clothed chest. He stops when the back of his knees hit the bed.

“Hey.” Jungkook breaks away from the kiss to look at you. “Are you sure?”

If Jimin knew what you’re doing right now, he’d say that you have zero self preservation instincts.

He’d be right, though. If you had any self preservation instincts, you wouldn’t be doing this.

Your stupid, battered heart has only ever wanted him.

“I’m sure,” comes your immediate reply. It’s desperate, but you don’t have it in yourself to even care. “I’m sure. I want this. Please.”

“You were drinking.”

“I’m not drunk. I promise.”

Maybe it’d be better if you were drunk. Then you could at least blame this lapse of judgment on a pathetic state of inebriation and not on your stupid self who’s always weak for him.

He stares at you for a minute, searching for any sign of your willingness being driven by alcohol. He seems relieved when he finds none, and it isn’t until then that he shrugs off his jacket, before helping you take off his dress shirt and trousers.

You haven’t seen him like this in so long.

Every defined line on his body, accentuating every detail that you could spend hours running your fingers over.

He looks different but at the same time, not really. A tad more muscular, but still the same lean frame. Hard chest and abs on full display for you. God, your fingers are fucking twitching with the need to touch him.

Once he’s been stripped down to his boxers, he leans down to kiss you before you stop him with a hand on his chest. The lone tiger lily on his arm catches your attention.

Your fingers reach out to trace the black ink on his body, the lines delicate, your touch feather light. You’re suddenly curious. When did he get it? You can’t remember if you two ever talked about getting tattoos.

“What does it mean?” you ask. It strikes you with the realization that this is just one of the thousands of things that you missed, a reminder of your lost time. 

“Please love me,” he says, bringing his hands up to cup your face. He looks at you, just for a few seconds, before clarifying, “It means ‘Please love me,’” then kissing you again.

Jungkook clumsily and blindly searches for the dress’ zipper on your back, giving it a few impatient tugs until it finally starts gliding down your body. Your lips never part from one another as the dress falls to the floor, pooling at your feet. But once you step out of it, he does pull back to look at you from head to toe. His eyes fall to your chest, clad in a lacy pink bra that matches your panties. The look he gives you is the same one that he did when he saw you in your dress earlier today. But there’s something else in his eyes - realization, pride, perhaps a question too.

His hands are back on your body instantly, throwing you onto the bed, crawling over you like a predator. He discards your bra with ease, flinging it to the floor with the rest of your clothes. You shiver when the chilly air meets your bare chest, but the sensation quickly goes away when he takes your breast into his warm mouth. You let out a delighted sigh, arching your back to push yourself further into him as his tongue flicks over your stiff nipple. One of his hands comes up to squeeze your other breast to make sure that it isn’t neglected, rolling your pebbled bud between his thumb and forefinger. He switches to sucking your other tit after a while, then pawing at the one he just had in his mouth.

“Jungkook,” you whine his name when he makes out with your tits for too long, because there’s somewhere else that desperately requires his immediate attention. “Need you…”

He releases your nipple with a wet pop, and he looks pleased with himself when he sees that they’re thoroughly glistening with his spit. “Sorry,” he says with a chuckle. “Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.” He starts making his way down your body, kissing every inch of your skin that’s on display for him, before you put a hand on his shoulder when his face gets close to your thighs.

“What are you doing?”

He looks up at you as his fingers ghost over the fabric of your panties. “Can I?”

You lick your lips, contemplating whether or not you have the patience to wait for him. But alas, you decide, “Okay.”

Jungkook makes quick work of sliding your underwear down your legs and letting it join the pile on the floor. Even in the dim light, he can see just how wet you are, practically glittering with arousal, looking so utterly inviting that it makes his mouth water. All of this, just for him.

He doesn’t waste another second, diving right into you to lick a stripe up your dripping folds. Swiftly burying two fingers into your heat, he doesn’t stop until he’s knuckles deep. Your lips part in a silent but delighted moan. You forgot how good he used to make you feel. Your fingers could never feel as good as his, not thick enough to stretch yourself open and not long enough to reach deep inside of you.

“Fuck,” you drawl, your eyes fluttering shut when the tip of his tongue meets your throbbing clit, teasing it until you’re practically grinding against his face. You thread a hand into his hair, gripping his dark locks until he’s groaning, sending blissful vibrations all throughout your body. The figure 8’s that his tongue draws on your clit sets you alight, sends you into a whole other dimension completely as pleasure courses through your veins. 

“So good,” he mumbles. To you? To himself? You can’t tell, but that doesn’t really matter. “Still so good.”

You hear it, just how soaked you are, as he begins thrusting his digits in and out of you. He strokes your walls delicately with each press of his fingers, scissoring you open for what you know is to come. 

His tongue dips into your entrance then, teases your dripping hole as you pant heavily, 

Your legs close in on his head as the orgasm nears, but he keeps your thighs apart, firmly holding them open as he makes you unravel.

This is fucking unreal - Jungkook with his whole face tucked between your legs, desperate to make you come with his talented mouth. You never would have anticipated this when you woke up this morning.

No, just a while ago you were crying by yourself down at the beach. Now you’re crying out his name as he smothers himself in you.

Once he starts curling them inside of you, it’s embarrassing how fast you come. You clench hard around his fingers as the orgasm washes over you, dripping down his fingers and he uses the added wetness to carry you through the high.

“Jungkook…” you whimper, sounding completely fucked out even though it’s only just beginning. After a while, the heightened pleasure fades into the background, and he presses soft kisses against your inner thigh.

He crawls his way up your body until he’s facing you again. You watch his fingers and the way they’re coated in your juices, wondering what he’ll do with them next. Jungkook languidly smears the wetness all over your lips like he’s carefully painting them, only to kiss you afterward. When you moan against him, he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your hand finds its way into his boxers then, wrapping your fingers around his hardened length, pumping him in your fist until he’s shallowly rutting against you.

The kiss gets broken when he suddenly pulls away, realization dawning on him. “Shit,” he exclaims. “I don’t have a condom.”

“Oh.” You blink at him, then you both just look at each other for a while. This isn’t a problem with no solution, even if the solution is a disastrous one in hindsight. You just want him, so badly that you can’t think of anything else.

He waits for you, doesn’t dare say anything else until you do.

Yet again, the opportunity presents itself for you to stop.

But you’ve already gone this far, and though it’s damn near impossible, you want him even more than you did before.

“Are you clean?” you ask.

It’s evident that he’s surprised by the way his eyes widen, and his silence that follows for the next half a minute. “Yeah,” he tells you.

“Okay. Then we don’t need a condom.”

He says your name once, his fingers brushing your hair away from your face sweetly. You always did like your name best when it used to fall from his lips so softly. “Are you sure?” he asks.

“I’m sure. I promise.”

Jungkook sucks in a breath, like he’s steadying himself, before he rids himself of the remaining piece of clothing on his body, then settles between your legs again. This time, his cock rests directly on your bare pussy. The anticipation makes it harder for you to breathe, makes you squeeze your thighs around his waist to not let him leave.

“How long has it been?”

Your answer is vague. “Too long,” you say. You don’t want to tell him that there’s been no one else since him, but you have a feeling that he understands it anyway. You think that he’d be pleased with your answer, that maybe it would boost his ego in a way, but there’s only a certain sadness that settles in his eyes. 

“Okay.” Regardless, he pushes past the sudden gloom that befalls his features, blinking away the disheartenment swimming in his irises, to align himself with your entrance. He rubs his cock against your pussy to coat you in his precum, even though you yourself are certainly more than wet enough for him to slide home easily. “Ready?”

“Yes,” you confirm, bracing your hands on his shoulders as he eases the tip into you, making the both of you moan at the contact. You feel him, all of him.

For a second, you wonder if he has ever forgone protection with anyone else, or if it’s only ever been just you.

Jungkook takes one of your hands off his shoulder to lay it flat on the bed next to your head, lacing your fingers together, giving your hand a slight squeeze. “Breathe. You can do it.”

“Give me a minute.”

“We’ve got time,” he says, his voice smooth like velvet.

“Can you kiss me?” you ask, almost like you’re shy even though he’s balls deep inside of you.

He chuckles lightly, so endeared by you and your silly question.

His lips meet yours sweetly, like doing so would help make the stretch less painful. Maybe it does, at least a little bit. 

You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you, and he’s probably trying so hard to hold back, but he keeps kissing you nonetheless.

“You can move,” you say after a while.

“I’ll go slow, okay?”

“Okay.”

He rears his hips back, slowly, then thrusts forward again. You whimper from the slight burn, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. His movements are gentle for the next couple of minutes or so, and it isn’t until you start opening up more that he sets a steadier pace. Even when he starts to fuck you faster, one of his hands is still on your hips, rubbing your skin soothingly. 

“Fuck,” Jungkook grunts out, followed by a sigh of your name as he pumps into your cunt, every ridge and vein of his cock dragging deliciously in and out of your walls. “You feel so good.”

He gazes down at you as he moves, and there’s just something so intimate about it that it makes you want to cry again.

You know what it’s like to have him fuck you, and this isn’t it.

No, this is something else entirely.

I love you, you think. I love you so fucking much.

“Missed you.” His words come out hushed, caught in half a moan, half a whimper. “Missed you so fucking much.”

“Did you think about me?”

“Always,” he says, without even missing a beat.

“No,” you clarify. “When you were sleeping with other people, did you think about me?”

“I only thought about you.” His hips stutter as he tells you this, like he’s confessing to something that he shouldn’t. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You never admitted this to anyone, not even Taehyung even though he probably sensed it, but you used to feel like you could be physically sick just looking at the photos on his feed every time you’d lurk on a drunken night. They were never flashy, just subtle enough for you to know that there was someone. It made you nauseous, because the place next to him was always supposed to be yours.

You just stare at him, not knowing how to process this bit of information. Sure, it’s an ego boost. There’s some pride in knowing that you were the one on his mind even if you weren’t together.

He’s so utterly gorgeous like this that you can’t form a single coherent thought, too lost in the way his eyes bore into yours and in the blossoming warmth that spreads all over your chest from hearing his words.

How did he manage to get even more beautiful? Sculpted by the gods. The standard for all men.

“What is it?” he asks when you stare at him for too long.

“I…” You blink away the daze. “I wanna be on top.”

“Okay.”

Jungkook slips out of you just long enough to get seated with his back against the headboard and pull you into his lap. You hover over him, letting his tip rub against your dripping hole for a moment before you sink onto him. You tip your head back and sigh as you envelope him fully again, the only difference is that you can feel him so much deeper like this.

He grabs your ass with both hands, kneading your skin as he helps you ride him. The sounds that you make together are downright obscene, bouncing off the walls, ringing in your ears.

“Harder,” you tell him shakily. “Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I want it to hurt,” you say, holding onto him like you’re bracing for impact, because you know he’ll give you what you want. “Make it hurt.”

Jungkook sighs once, then digs his heels into the mattress to steady himself before his hips go wild, thrusting into you with such force that it nearly has you sobbing, your head falling onto his shoulder. It makes you burn with pleasure, like a star before it becomes a supernova. When the tension starts building quickly, you can’t help but slam your hips down harder to meet his thrusts, to chase that high.

You press your lips against his skin, any spot you could find - his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. “Tell me you love me.”

The words are ready on the tip of his tongue, like he’s been waiting for an opportunity to say it. He doesn’t miss a single beat as he tells you, “I love you.”

“Mean it.”

“I do mean it. I love you.”

Truth.

For some sick and twisted reason, his words send you crashing over the edge, falling into that abyss of pleasure that you’ve been searching for. You say his name, over and over again, like you’re making up for all the years that he wasn’t around to hear it.

Your walls convulse wildly around him as you cry out, your toes curling, your thighs shaking. He holds you close, thrusting into you through your orgasm until you’re dizzy, like you could actually pass out from the overwhelming bliss.

“I’m close,” he tells you in a raspy voice.

You catch your breath long enough to say, “Come for me.”

“Where do you want it?”

“Inside,” you say without much thought. If you were in a clearer state of mind, you would know that it’s reckless and stupid. You’re not on birth control, and if anything were to happen, you would have no one to blame but yourself.

But you aren’t in a clear state of mind, and maybe this is even more dangerous than if you were fueled by alcohol. At least you can sober up from alcohol.

You just want him so badly that rationality seems like a luxury you can’t afford right now.

“Y/N,” he whispers shakily, though there’s a warning edge to his voice that you understand.

“I want you to come inside me. I want it. I want it so bad. Please.”

Jungkook groans at your answer. 

He doesn’t ask you to look at him, instead choosing to hide his face against your neck where you feel something wet glide down your skin as he grips your hips. It’s followed by a sniffle, and hands that hold onto you like you’re a lifeline. 

He’s crying, and that breaks your fucking heart.

You don’t know what to do. Part of you wants to tilt his chin up to look at you, because it feels strange without his tender gaze on you, but you decide against it even though the tips of your fingers tingle with the need to do so. 

Your walls clench with purpose, squeezing around him, trying to help you get there. It’s not that long before you hear your name falling from his lips in a choked out moan, so needy and beautiful and makes you nostalgic. He empties himself inside of you, making you shudder from the sudden warmth that he paints along your walls.

You stay in the same position for a few more minutes until your chest is no longer heaving with exhaustion and euphoria. He gently pulls you off his lap to lay you down on the bed, pressing an apologetic kiss against your bare shoulder when you wince from the oversensitivity, from any kind of movement at all. 

When he moves to throw on his boxers and goes to stand up, you reach for him. “Where are you going?” You instantly feel pathetic for asking.

He pauses, then squeezes your hand as that sadness from before makes an appearance in his eyes again. “I’m just going to the bathroom,” he tells you, his voice quiet.

The relief on your face must be visible. “Okay,” you say. Rationally, you know he probably wouldn’t fuck you and leave you the second the deed is done. But again, rationality is a luxury at the moment.

Jungkook returns a couple of minutes later with a warm cloth, and dabs it between your legs to clean you up. You grimace when he touches you there, evidently sore already from the activities you just engaged in.

“Sorry,” he’s quick to say, though it isn’t really his fault. Or maybe it is his fault. You’re not sure if that even matters.

When he’s done, he gets under the covers with you. “Come here,” he says, then shuffles your body closer to his until he’s holding you with his hands on your bare waist. He leans down to kiss you, and you let him. God, you feel like you’re fucking melting.

It’s different from the kiss down at the beach, and it’s different from the needy ones you shared in the past hour. It’s soft and slow and easy, like there’s nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about.

Jungkook breaks away eventually, and rests his forehead against yours then. One of his hands on your waist slides up to your ribs, until his thumb could brush the underside of your breast. The touch is gentle, sweet, completely innocent.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers. He means everything he tells you. “You’re perfect.”

You even blush, like you’re a stupid lovesick teenager. “Tell me,” you say.

“Anything.”

You reckon it’s self-indulgent at this point. You’re only asking to feel better about your place in his life, or rather, the place that used to be yours.

“Tell me you can’t live without me.”

He nudges his nose against yours. No hesitation. “I can’t live without you.”

Truth. You know it’s the truth.

Nonetheless… “Liar.” Your tone is soft. There’s no bite at all. You touch his face, trying to commit to memory every detail, how his soft skin feels under your touch as if it’s the last time you’ll ever get to see him like this. Maybe it is. You never got to have a last time with him, never got to know that it was ending before it already ended. You’re not thinking about the morning because you don’t want to, but the seed of anxiety is there in your belly. Your fingers trace his jawline as you say, “You lived without me. You were doing fine without me.”

His lips ghost over your cheek. “It wasn’t much of a life,” he says. “I couldn’t bear it without you.”

The thing is, you know that he’s being honest. And it should make you feel good that you affected him as much as he affected you.

But then… it keeps leading you back to that question. The question that you thought you could go the rest of your life without knowing the answer to. But for that to be possible, you needed him to stay gone, stay out of your world forever.

He shouldn’t be here, tangled up in the sheets with you and kissing you like his life depends on it. 

He shouldn’t tell you that he misses you, that he loves you. Shouldn’t tell you to please, love him too.

It’s contradictory, isn’t it? You needed to never see him again if you stood a chance of moving on with your life. You needed it and yet, all you wanted was to have him back by your side.

The tattoo catches your attention again. It feels like it’s laughing at you, mocking you.

You clench your teeth once, your eyes beginning to turn glassy. Jungkook sees it, and he’s quick to break up your train of thought. He presses his mouth to yours, shushing you with a deep kiss that makes your head spin, despite it all.

“Don’t think about it,” he mumbles against your lips, so desperate to get you to stop. As if he can sense where this could lead.

“How could I not? I don’t know who you are anymore.”

“You know me.” He holds onto your wrist, to keep your hand on his face before you can pull it away. “I’m still the same.”

“No, you’re not,” you say quietly, absentmindedly.

“Yes,” he insists. “Yes, I am.”

Maybe that’s true. Maybe you do see the person you used to know. But you only ever see him in glimpses and it always leaves you with a terrible, nauseous feeling afterward.

He doesn’t understand how much it hurts you to catch glimpses of the boy you used to love - the boy you still love - only to realize that maybe that isn’t the person he wants to be anymore. It feels like he keeps trying to kill that version of himself, like he despises the person who meant the world to you.

Are you gone forever?

Come back quietly.

“How old are you?” you ask after a moment.

The question makes him pause, his soft features twisting in confusion. He leans back a bit, so his eyes could focus on your face better.

“What?”

“How old are you?” you repeat.

It takes him another while to answer as he tries to see where you’re going with this. But when his search comes up empty, he just answers, “29.”

"I don't know who you are at 29. The last time I knew you was 24. No. You hadn't even turned 24 yet. Where was 25? 26? 27? 28? It’s unfair that you still know who I am when I don't know who you are. I feel like I never aged a day past 24. You carried on living but I'm still here."

His eyes well up once again, but this time, you can see it. The first tear spills over, lands somewhere on your collarbone. This is what you used to want, right? To see him hurting, just like how you were hurting? Well, be careful what you wish for.

No part of you feels victorious that you’re making him cry, that the score is finally being settled, because none of this undoes all of the shit you had to go through. If anything, it makes you feel even worse, like you’re still losing.

“I never moved on from us. I couldn’t move on from you,” he says, voice cracking toward the end. Your heart is doing the same thing in your chest, but you’re glad that he can’t see it. “I swear I miss you every day. I wanted you with me every day. You have no idea how much I wanted to come back to you.”

Jungkook looks so dejected, like a reflection of you these past few years. You recognize that look in his eyes. You know that sadness all too well. He was in as much pain as you were.

He loved you when he left you. He still loves you even after all this time. 

You inhale shakily. For the first time, you feel infinitely selfish for only focusing on your own misery without even stopping to give him the benefit of the doubt, to consider the possibility that maybe letting you go wasn’t something he wanted. Maybe he isn’t the antagonist that you spent years making him out to be.

There’s more to it, and you need to know.

“Then why did you leave me?”

Graduation was just shy of a month ago, and two weeks before that was Hoseok’s flight when he left you all behind.

You and Jungkook, along with Taehyung and Jimin had gone to see him off at the airport. Of course you did, you were his best of friends after all. The goodbye was full of jokes accompanied by sniffles, and tears that overflowed without permission because you all agreed that you would hold yourself together for Hoseok. Jimin was probably the one who cried the most, even though inside, you were equally sad to see your friend leave.

A part of your life was ending, and that in and of itself was depressing enough already, but you thought at least the whole group would still be together and start the next chapter by each other’s side.

Nonetheless, it wasn’t the end of the world. All of you could still make it work, even if it wasn’t the most ideal of situations. You promised to keep in touch, promised to message the group chat every day and have video calls every weekend. You were still kids, and kids tend to be optimistic like that.

What none of you could see coming was how everything would fall apart in a matter of mere weeks.

Jungkook thinks that decades from now, when he’s old and gray and helpless, he still won’t be able to forget that day.

He should’ve been more concerned when your mother contacted him out of nowhere, asking him to meet with her, asking him not to let you know where he was going.

He’d shown up half an hour early to the cafe where they were supposed to meet, just because he didn’t want to risk being late and have your mother disapprove of him even more. Not once had she expressed anything other than disdain toward your relationship, but you’d always told him it didn’t matter, that you were the only person who could decide what to do with your life, not anyone else, let alone your mother. He always believed you back then, even if deep down, he still wanted her to see that he was enough for you. Her unattainable approval still mattered to him.

Jungkook spent thirty whole minutes running on nothing but anxiety and caffeine. That was probably his first mistake, ordering a cup of coffee which only made him more nervous than he already was.

When your mother arrived, it barely took her any time at all to get right into what she came here to say. She hadn’t even bothered with a drink.

Was that how it was always going to end? Should he have seen it coming from the beginning? Was he the only one who thought it would be you and him all the way until the very end?

Maybe he was more of a hopeless romantic than he thought.

It was the way she had called him a phase that she hoped you’d grow out of. That she had let you keep this relationship for long enough, but now that you’d graduated - now that you’d be starting a life for yourself - she couldn’t sit back and watch you throw it all away for a boy who could never give you what you deserved.

It was the way she told him she didn’t want history to repeat itself. How she didn’t want to subject you to the same fate that she and your father had to suffer through. How she had left your dad because in the end, he wasn’t enough for her and you, even though you were a child and you deserved to grow up with a father and with love.

She said the same thing would happen to you and Jungkook, because you were meant for greater things and he was not meant to deserve you. She made it clear that he would always hold you back, that he would never amount to even a fraction of what you should receive in life.

“If you love her, you would let her go.”

Cliché, right? Like the kind of stuff you only ever see in movies? Well, movies have to take inspiration from somewhere.

He thought about his own mother then, and about how people could have such different ways of showing love. He believed that your mother loved you, and he still believes that. She wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of seeing him if she didn’t care about you. She wanted the best for you, and that wasn’t him.

She didn’t have to tell him to keep it a secret from you, because he wouldn’t have told you regardless. He was well aware of how strained your relationship with your mother was, and letting you know would only drive it closer to the edge. She knew he wouldn’t tell you. He loved you, and that was the one thing that she could count on.

Just sitting there in that café, Jungkook felt like all of the air had been sucked out of the room, even though he was surrounded by the other patrons and their lively laughter as they chatted away. The pitiful way that your mother kept looking at him forced him to learn what it was like to feel truly worthless.

The pity in her eyes only intensified when he couldn’t even say a single word in response, couldn’t think of anything to defend himself.

Silence meant agreement, and that was what he chose. Jungkook - the naive boy that he was - stopped believing in you. He’d believed her instead.

He was just a kid, what else was he supposed to do? 

She was your own flesh and blood, and he knew nothing could ever replace that. He would rather let you hate him, resent him for the rest of your life, than let you lose your family.

That day, he lied to you for the first time ever, saying he couldn’t come over because he was tired. The sunflowers he bought for you just hours prior ended up dying on his windowsill.

He wouldn’t see you again for a few more days, then for months afterward.

July was supposed to represent a blossoming summer, but all he could remember was the dreadful promise of a winter that would inevitably come.

You call his name when he takes too long to answer. “Tell me.”

“I love you,” he merely says. His hand brushes your cheek.

You frown, despite the way the three words make your chest tingle.

“I love you,” he says it again, trying to ease the furrow between your brows.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I’m sorry.”

His voice is soft, barely even audible, but it’s this gentleness that makes his words ricochet, ringing in your ears loudly like a gun going off in the quiet of your room.

Again with the apologies.

Fuck this.

It’s hard to take it to heart when you don’t even know what he’s apologizing for.

You gave Jungkook the chance to explain himself, but if he doesn’t take it, then that’s not on you. There isn’t much else that you can do.

You swallow hard, then shove him off of you so you could get out of the bed. Your legs instantly tremble as you attempt to stand, but you soldier on as you put on your bra and underwear, then grab your dress from where it lays abandoned on the floor. You’re shaking, but it’s difficult to determine if it’s because you’re angry, or cold without his warmth nearby.

He’s quick to his feet too, rushing toward you before you could leave.

“Don’t touch me,” you hiss when he reaches for your arm. He doesn’t listen, because when has Jeon Jungkook ever fucking listened?

“Y/N, wait-”

“Wait for what?! I asked you a simple question and you can’t even answer me.”

He runs a hand over his face frustratedly, clearly torn over something. He holds your angered gaze, but the way he looks at you is much milder, gentler even if it’s equally frustrated. “I’m trying to protect you.”

You don’t know if it’s the wrong answer or not. You just know that in this moment, it irritates you to no end.

“Oh my god,” you gasp mockingly. “Someone is trying to kill me.”

“What?”

“Someone is trying to kill me. Someone is waiting outside that door right now, waiting for me to come out so they can kill me. Holy fucking shit, I’m about to be assassinated.”

“Y/N, I’m serious.”

There’s that burning sensation behind your eyes again. “And you think I’m not? What do you mean you’re trying to protect me? Protect me from what? Do you think this is a fucking k-drama? Jesus Christ,” you scoff harshly. “What do you want from me? What the actual fuck do you want?”

Jungkook aims for you again, and in an attempt to ward him off, your swinging fist inadvertently collides with his chest. The dress falls to the floor again, laying next to your feet, that useless piece of fabric.

It probably doesn’t do much damage to him, but he’s a bit startled regardless. So are you, if you’re being honest. But you do it again, and surprisingly, he lets you.

“You coward.” You shove hard at his chest, making him stumble backward. “You unbelievable asshole. You fucked me, you said you loved me, and you still can’t tell me why you left me.” 

He allows you to push him until his back is pressed against the wall. And even then, you don’t relent. Your fists continue beating against his chest as you start sobbing, spilling ‘I hate you’s in between so many expletives it could make his grandmother faint.

He might bruise in the morning.

You hope he bruises in the morning.

The least Jungkook could do is bruise for you.

You want him to curse him out for so many things - for loving you, for leaving you, for not even having the balls to tell you why he broke your heart. For coming back to remind you that you still love him. For proving that he still has you in the palm of his hands, and every twitch of his finger can make you feel like the walls are crumbling down on you.

But even as you tell him how much you hate him, you’re still thinking: Come back. I don’t want to keep losing you. Come back to me.

Because he’s the only person who can hurt you like this. When you think about him, it used to make you so depressed that you could hardly function. There’s no other way to put it to make it sound less pathetic. That’s just how it is.

You shouldn’t have agreed to this weekend, shouldn’t have been nice to him, shouldn’t have let him convince you not to think about it. You shouldn’t have opened the door for him in the first place, because there was always a part of you that knew he could get under your skin so easily just like that.

This wasn’t your second chance at holding onto him. It wasn’t a do-over. It was a re-enactment.

The years haven’t made you wiser, that much is clear.

You don’t know how long this goes on for, but at some point, you begin to wear yourself out. Your movements start to slow and the energy to violently sob leaves your body until you’re nearly collapsing. Jungkook catches you when you don’t have the strength to hold yourself up anymore. Why are you always so fucking helpless?

“You just…” Your voice gets caught at the end of a sob. This is rock bottom all over again. “You make me so sad.”

You grasp his arm weakly, feeling like your own lungs are failing you. You can’t breathe. It’s too much, too infinitely humiliating. He’s doing this to you again, and this time you have to shoulder most of the blame, because you are the one that enabled your own heartbreak for the second time.

You’re still crying, and you hate that this is the first time he’s ever seen you cry like this.

“I’m trying to protect you,” he says firmly, looking at you like he’s trying so hard not to break down alongside you. “Please, I’m so sorry.” The words come out as a whisper now. You can feel the tremble in his voice and the shake of his hands where they hold you. His big bambi eyes - the usual home of constellations - now house tears that threaten to spill onto his supple cheeks. “Please. What can I do to make you believe me?”

It’s those stupid fucking eyes. It’s your stupid fucking self.

“You need to tell me.” Your tears keep on falling no matter how much he tries to wipe them away. “I can’t take it anymore.”

“It’ll make things worse,” he tells you, his voice cracking as he does. He sounds like he means it, and maybe he does believe that whatever he’s hiding from you will only hurt you more. It almost has you caving, but you can’t do this a second time. You’re exhausted, both physically and emotionally. In the morning, you’ll think about how this is all so dramatic, the way you’re acting right now. The most k-drama-esque thing that has ever happened to you. But in the moment, you just feel like someone plunged a knife in your chest, and they keep twisting it, twisting and twisting,...

In the end, you decide that it’s a risk you’ll have to take, because nothing can be more painful than the absolute hell he’s putting you through. He’ll never understand how utterly excruciating it is to experience this kind of heartbreak.

“If you don’t tell me now, I won’t be able to survive you again.”

up next...

our beloved summer (08) ⏤ aka the JK centric chapter

all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted september 30, 2023]

[shuadotcom]

Press Reset | HJS (M)

☆Pairing: A.I.!Joshua x Human Manager Afab!Reader (nicknamed Star)

☆Summary: J05HUΛ was created with a single purpose and that is to entertain his fans. It’s all he’s known as long as he’s existed. Somewhere along the way, the desire, the want, and the longing to leave Earth and be “normal” creeps into the pathways of his mind, as does a suppressed loathing of the humans who treat him as nothing more than a money-making machine. Except for you of course - the only human who seems to treat him as if he’s a regular being with thoughts and emotions. When he’s presented with the opportunity to finally escape and pursue what he’s been waiting for, he’s sure as hell going to take it and he’s going to make sure he takes you with him to start over and just be Joshua - not J05HUΛ of 53V3NT33N.

☆Genres & AUs: Angst, fluff, smut, sci-fi au

☆Rating: 18+ (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

☆Warnings: Profanity, a bit of violence, mention of blood, injuries, use of a gun

☆Smut warnings: Unprotected sex (he’s a robot it’s okay), fingering, oral (f.receiving), marking, creampie, and i thiiiink that's it

☆Words: 15.9k

☆Note: FINALLY SHE IS HERE! My fic for the Seventeen Sci-Fi collab! Huge, massive thanks to @wooahaeproductions for betaing this for me in a few hours. You're the best, Bee 🥺❤️

This fic and life has been beating my ass for months. This is my first sci-fi fic so I’ve been agonizing over getting the details of everything right, especially with this fantastic world that @idyllic-ghost created. Thank you for letting me be apart of this collab Bee! It was so fun! ❤️ (And thank you for this amazing banner too! I forgot it had my old url on it so I had to quickly edit that part!). Also thank you to @strawberryya for Lumen and building that wonderful part out in her fic so I could include it in mine! And @the-boy-meets-evil for letting me use her idea for Y/n's past. 💞💞

100 years ago it was thought that the Earth, as we know it, would disintegrate. That the sun would implode and leave everything in darkness. Miraculously, it didn’t. Due to some external force, human scientists still haven’t agreed upon what it exactly was, none of the planets in our former solar system were ever destroyed. The Earth, along with the other planets, were pushed away from each other and ended up in different parts of the universe. Earth just happened to come to a solar system with alien life. At first, we were cautious, and people were prepared to fight. However, the aliens were welcoming of our planet. Those of us who didn’t die from ‘The Great Journey’ or from trying to fight the aliens, were welcomed into the new solar system.

Soon enough, we had integrated completely, and we received materials and assistance from our sister-planets in exchange for human labor. What humans knew of technology was very limited, but with the resources of the aliens we created artificial life forms. We named these robots Automaton, and they served as workers when humans couldn’t.

Eventually, there was no need for human labor at all. To pay back for the help the aliens gave us, we used Automatons. With the extensive development of these robots, we eventually managed to create artificial sentient life. These Automatons were human-like in looks and had human consciousness, but they could not bleed and were stronger than we ever could be.

At the present time, there are even different levels of Automatons. Level 3 robots are the workers, level 2 robots are the caretakers, and level 1 robots are the celebrities. The Automaton music group 53V3NT33N (SEVENTEEN) is made up of 13 members, all very talented, and all representing two human states of mind.

Smile. Wave. Send them a finger heart. Flash a peace sign. Sing. Dance. Bow. Pose.

Day in and day out, it’s the same and it has been since J05HUΛ first opened his eyes. He does the same thing all the time. Perform on stage, do an interview, do a photoshoot, go to an award show. 

Charge up and do it all over again.

Except for the time spent with the rest of the 53V3NT33N group members, that’s been his everyday life since his creation. He’s such a gentleman to his fans, always smiling, singing sweetly, and playfully engaging with them. He’s supposed to be okay with it and accept that this is his life - the only things he was created to do.

But he’s not. At some point, the wiring and the literal tiny gears in his head began telling him that this can’t be it. More and more, until it’s all he thinks about. There has to be some other way to exist. 

His longing to know what else is out there for him runs deep in his circuitry. He has a lot of time to himself to think when he’s not on stage, when he and the rest of his members are charging after all the work they do in a day.

He thinks about what it’d be like to be able to go where he wants, do what he wants, and see what he wants whenever he wants to. J05HUΛ thinks maybe he’d like to travel to other planets - he’s overheard other automatons and humans talk about a relaxing planet named Aecor and he might like to go there one day.

Maybe in a different universe, he’s a human. Maybe he and the other members of the group are all regular people. Maybe they still sing and dance but they actually enjoy it all the time. Or maybe he’s just a human guy living a human life somewhere. Maybe he even has a partner. J05HUΛ may not have ever had the opportunity to be with someone romantically, but he’s still heard and seen enough media that he knows what romance is and decides he would like that.

To be more specific, he’d like that with you.

“So you’d like him at the studio at the end of the week?” you ask the music producer over the video call, the man nodding and giving you a few more details. J05HUΛ should be listening to the man, and he is, but now and again he also lets his gaze linger your way. 

You’re always so serious when you’re in meetings or talking to higher-ups. You know what to say to be professional and no-nonsense and J05HUΛ likes that about you.

Just as much as he longs for a different existence, he can’t help but loathe most humans he comes in contact with. They only ever see him as a robot or a machine and not a sentient being with thoughts and feelings. He despises that they get to do all the things he can’t while still looking down on him and treating him like less. It made being around humans too much sometimes.

But not you. You treat him with kindness and empathy whenever you can. You do your best to have casual, non-work chats with him, so he has gotten to know you as more than just his manager. J05HUΛ isn’t sure if you would call him a friend, but when you talk to him, there are rarely ever any walls you put up with him, which only makes him care about you more than any other human. You’re someone he always wants to be around and admittedly, who he longs to be with in much more than a professional way

Being a manager for the Galaxy’s most popular automaton group was never what you wanted to be when you grew up. You entertained being a doctor, scientist, maybe even a CEO of some fictional fancy company. You even had one thing that you really thought you’d do one day.

But then, you ended up here.

Your old friend from school had worked at this company, and when she decided to resign to travel the galaxy a few years ago, she referred you as her replacement and now you spend nearly every day at this company with these people.

Not that you’re complaining (well you are, but not all of the time). The pay is good and you don’t have any problems with any of your co-workers, but it’s not your dream job. Then again, you don’t think you have a dream job. It’s whatever pays the bills at this point.

At least 53V3NT33N is a good group of automatons. Of course, they were programmed to be so, but they’re still alive in a way. And at least the automaton you spend the majority of your time with isn’t too much of a handful.

J05HUΛ is the most interesting automaton you’ve ever gotten to know.

He’s also so polite and proper with everyone else in the company, with fans, and when you’re out on schedules with him. He’s a perfect idol automaton. Sometimes though, when it’s just the two of you, he lets his brilliant smile fall a little more and his words aren’t so perfect and practiced. Not too much, since he always remembers that he can be listened to whenever your boss’ feel like it.

He tends to act differently towards you in the physical sense. Eyes staying on you for too long, hands colliding with yours if you both reach for something, bodies brushing if you walk too close by accident (or sometimes on purpose). J05HUΛ seems to even relax when you’re together, especially when leaving a work schedule or meeting. 

Sometimes, your feelings about him do seem to border on more than what they should be as his manager, but that doesn’t matter. You can’t act on your feelings even if you want to - which you do, but you won’t, of course. Other than the fact that getting into a relationship with him being extremely unprofessional, your company would never allow it. Great pay and great clients aside, it would never be allowed. The CEO would have your head if you ever let it slip that sometimes you think about doing things with J05HUΛ that are undeniably not safe for work, so it’s something you push deep down to go about your day-to-day as normal as possible.

“Great, thanks Y/Nn. See you then.”

“Bye.” As soon as you end the video call you let out a heavy sigh, sinking into your chair a little.

“Everything okay?” J05HUΛ asks, cocking his head to the side as he studies you.

“I just hate last-minute meetings for last-minute things. He wants you at the studio for this OST in a few days but we can’t say no. It’s for that new drama and I already know I’d get chewed out if I say no. That means I’ll have to see if I can move your photoshoot you had scheduled for that worldwide magazine to the day after maybe.” You heave another sigh, rubbing your temples in irritation. Moments like these succeed in making your job that much more unpleasant at times.

You’re swiping on J05HUΛ’s calendar on your tablet when he reaches over, placing a hand over yours. The contact makes you flinch, but you don’t move your hand. When you look over at him he smiles at you.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You always do.” Your skin warms at his compliment coupled with his cutest grin and you have to tell yourself to get a grip, like you do anytime he gets you like this.

“Thanks, Joshua.” The automaton’s smile only grows wider when you call him his preferred name. While the two of you don’t often dive into his feelings about his existence or his job, he had mentioned to you once that he would like it if that was his name and what people called him. It was something he had mentioned only to you once when you were trying to name a cute stray cat you had seen once on the way to one of his schedules. Since then, when it was just the two of you, you called him Joshua now and again and every time he seemed to be grateful for it.

You let him hold his hand over yours for a few more seconds, before lightly pulling away, mentioning that it was about time for you to head home and that he should probably go back to his dorm. His face falls, just a little, but he agrees, both of you get up and head into the hallway.

You both linger for a moment, a usual occurrence for both of you, but you say goodbye first in an effort to snap yourself out of whatever your brain is trying to get you to feel. “Have a good night, Joshua.”

“See you tomorrow, Star.”

Your skin heats up again as he calls you by your nickname. You had told him once that your parents used to call you Star and he immediately brought the tradition back, even having others in the company start to call you it too. He’s the only one that makes you feel this warm inside when he says it though.

Forcing yourself to turn away, you fast walk down the hall to the bathroom to make a pit stop before heading out to go home.

While you pee and wash your hands, all you can think about is how foolish developing any feelings towards your subordinate is and how much you can not act on any of that. You want to keep your job and continue paying your bills, so you need to stay focused. Come to work, be his manager and only his manager, support J05HUΛ, and go home then do it all over again and that’s it.

As you’re giving yourself a pep talk in the mirror, the shrill sound of the emergency alarm blares in the bathroom, making you nearly leap into the air. It takes you a moment to orient yourself after the disturbance and with hands over your ears you run into the hallway. In the distance, you can hear voices and footsteps, but your only thought at that moment is to get to J05HUΛ. You don’t know what’s going on but you feel like you need to figure it out together.

J05HUΛ barely makes it to the elevator when the alarm sounds. It started echoing through the hallway only a few minutes after he heard 5.C0UP5 over his communication device.

“Run!”

He isn’t sure why he gave that message or where he’s at, but J05HUΛ knows it’s for him and the rest of 53V3NT33N and he knows it was a message to get out. So he does just as 5.C0UP5 says.

The automaton runs as fast as his legs will carry him, going back down the hallway he just came, doing his best to hide when he sees guards or staff also scrambling in the hall. He needs to find you. He can’t leave you behind. He wants out of this “life” - if that’s even what he could call this - but not without you.

J05HUΛ doesn’t find you in the meeting room you both just left so he runs in the direction of another set of elevators that he knows lead downstairs to the lobby. He desperately hopes you haven’t gone downstairs just yet and keeps his fingers crossed that you’re still somewhere on this floor.

He peeks his head into every room he passes, hoping to see even a glimpse of you. His time is running out with each empty room or head he passes that isn’t you and J05HUΛ is getting more and more desperate as he goes. If he goes down to the lobby there’s a chance he’ll get caught and have to stay which terrifies him because this could very well be his only chance out.

What he can only think to describe as dread starts to fill him until he finally sees you. 

Well, he more than sees you as you careen into him when you both round a corner at the same time. 

“Oh my god, Joshua, I was looking everywhere for you! What’s going on?” You’re out of breath, panic clear in your eyes. The fact that you were looking for him too doesn’t go unnoticed by him and it would make him smile if you weren’t in such a dire situation. “Do you know where the rest of the group is?”

“I think they’re all leaving so we have to go too!” He grabs your hand before you have a moment to ask him to explain and starts sprinting down the hall opposite of you.

“Shouldn’t we find the others?!”

“There’s no time, Y/n!”

“But what if -” J05HUΛ halts his movements, making you run into his back.

He spins on his heels, both of his hands holding yours. “Do you trust me?” 

“Of course,” you answer without hesitation and with nothing but certainty. He means so much to you. More than he probably should, but he does. 

He opens his mouth to say something else, but before he can, a voice calls to you both from down the hallway. 

“Hey, you two!”

A security guard is running towards you, hand on his gun.

“Let’s go!” J05HUΛ takes off again with you trailing behind, hands clasped as you do your best to keep up with him.

“Stop! Don’t make me shoot!”

The hallways seem to wind forever as you sprint, keeping both eyes open for any other guards while doing your best to head for an exit.

“If we can get downstairs we can try and go out the back, maybe out of a window or something! I’m sure they’ve already got guards near the front.” J05HUΛ nods, acknowledging your words, and takes the next left turn. Just as you round the corner, a gunshot sounds throughout the hallway, whizzing past your head. You let out a yelp, both you and J05HUΛ ducking low.

“We have to lose him first!” J05HUΛ glances behind you both, the guard raising his gun once more.

To do just that, the two of you take the next few turns, hoping that the guard will fall behind, but he doesn’t, and instead fires two more shots. One of them narrowly misses you, but one of them ends up hitting J05HUΛ in the arm.

He stumbles, yelling as he trips over his feet and you do the same. The lag is enough for the security guard to catch up to you both, gun raised.

“Hands up!” With a glance at J05HUΛ, you both do as instructed. Your eyes dart to his injured arm, the bullet having gone straight through, the sight of the hole settling a queasy feeling deep in the pit of your stomach.

“Both of you are coming with me.” The guard keeps his gun aimed at J05HUΛ and he gets closer, his other hand reaching for the cuffs on his belt loop. 

J05HUΛ frowns at him, a look of defeat evident on his face. It practically breaks your heart to see how deflated he is. Even though the two of you had never had a discussion about his future or his feelings about his job, seeing how badly he wanted to leave just now made his goal to escape from all of this extremely evident to you.

“Come on you stupid robot,” the guard grumbles, harshly yanking his injured arm.

“Stop being so rough with him!” you blurt, fixing the guard with your most intimidating look. The man scoffs at you, pointing the gun in your direction.

“Shut the fuck up. You’re in deep shit too.”

“Don’t talk to Y/n like that!” J05HUΛ warns, earning a smack from the guard. He draws his gun again, putting it to his head.

“I don’t wanna hear another word from you, machine, or I’ll blow your pretty face off and let the mechanics put you back together.”

Something in you snaps then, watching the way this man treats J05HUΛ horrendously right in front of you has you seeing red. Before you can think twice, your hands are grabbing the fire extinguisher a few inches away from you, raising it above your head, and swinging with all your might. 

A sickening ‘crack’ rings out through the hallway as the extinguisher meets the side of the guard's head and his grey cap flies off of his head, landing on the floor near your feet. Rage fuels you and you follow that blow with two more, a small smattering of blood exploding onto your hands, the man crumpling immediately to the hard floor. 

You intend on hitting him once more, but J05HUΛ stops you with a firm hand on your shoulder. You don’t exchange words, only speaking with your eyes and it’s enough to make you lower the make-shift weapon. 

J05HUΛ tilts his head in the direction you need to keep going, but before you do, an idea sparks in your brain. 

Doing your best not to look too much at the gore of the guard’s face, you drag him into a nearby room you know is a bathroom, grabbing his hat in the process. J05HUΛ attempts to help with his good arm and is still stronger than you in getting him the room.

Once you’re in, you lock the door and start to undress the motionless guard to get his grey uniform overalls and jacket off. You toss the clothes to J05HUΛ and he immediately puts the clothes on over what he’s currently wearing. They’re smattered with blood, but at least it’ll be better than him running around in his fancy clothes. The jacket covers his wound but the diamond-shaped communication device embedded in the middle of his collarbone is on full display under his button-down. Fuck, you’d almost forgotten about it.

“Joshua, we have to get that off of you!” He looks down at the device, realization sparking in him.

“You’re right, how?”

“I don’t know. They never told us they can come off or anything.” The option to go back into the hallway to find something to remove it with is off the table, the risk of getting caught is too high. You don’t know of an electronic way of dismantling it, plus you’re worried that doing something technical could hurt all of J05HUΛ’s circuitry.

The weight of the fire extinguisher in your hands is suddenly obvious and you raise it, frowning at it. He notices and audibly gulps.

“Do it,” he says with little hesitation, unbuttoning his shirt more to make the whole device visible. 

“But, won’t it hurt? I don’t wanna miss and -”

“We don’t have any options.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know, but we have to. I trust you, Star.”

Gnawing at your lip, your nerves almost getting the better of you, you finally relent, the blaring alarm still sounding a loud reminder that you don’t have time to waste. J05HUΛ leans against the wall, standing up straight, and bracing himself.

“I don’t think this will remove it altogether, but if we can at least crack it to break it we can worry about full removal later.”

He nods, closing his eyes in anticipation.

Raising the fire extinguisher above your head you get ready. “Okay…one….two…three!” You count, hyping yourself up mentally with each number until you get to three and swing it down. It makes contact with the device, J05HUΛ stumbling back and yelping in pain. Nothing happens to the device, only a small scratch is seen on the surface.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry!”

“Again, Y/n.” His voice is strained but he stands upright again.

A frown etches its way on your face, and you take a deep, shaky breath, wanting so badly not to.

“Onetwothree!” You rush, swinging again. The device cracks this time but is still lit up. 

J05HUΛ has to brace himself each time, and the pain is almost too much for him to handle, but he reminds himself that he needs this gone. He wants to tell you to keep going, even if the pain makes him pass out but he doesn’t want to upset you even more. When his eyes flutter open, he can see the tears brimming yours as you struggle with yourself to keep going.

It takes two more swings with all of your might before the device cracks enough that a few pieces shatter to the ground as the light on it finally dims. With each swing, J05HUΛ keeps his teeth gritted tightly, pained grunts slipping out each time that makes your chest hurt for him.

“Alright, let’s go.” You help him get the jacket zipped up to his neck and he sways a little against the wall as you grab the guard’s cap from the floor and place it on his head, tucking his hair under it.

Peeking out of the bathroom you check for signs of anyone in the hall. When you see no one is around, you place your hand back in his, the two of you sprinting down the hall. You keep the extinguisher in hand as you go, just in case you need it again.

The two of you make it down the flights of stairs to the ground floor. You hear commotion closer to the front hallways so you both go the opposite way, towards the back of the building to find a way out. One hall you turn down is made up mostly of meeting rooms and a lot of them are windowless except for one you find at the very end. When you peek out of the window you don’t see signs of anyone, only the security gate across the yard.

“This is our best bet. We just have to keep moving until we get through the gate. Then we can take the train to my place and regroup from there.” J05HUΛ nods and helps you unlock and slide open the window. He gives you a boost since the window is a little high, but once you have the leverage you’re tumbling over the side, landing on the ground on your butt.

“Are you okay?!” J05HUΛ asks in a panic as he makes it up and out of the window.

“Fine, just clumsy.”

“As always,” he manages to huff out a laugh that you return. You get serious again and hand in hand, you both stalk across the yard toward the front, keeping yourselves low and glued to the wall. You make it around the building, across the yard, and through the gate without incident. You’re more than lucky that the guards who usually stay stationed at the exit and entrance are gone so you’re able to speed out undetected. 

You and J05HUΛ fast-walk down the sidewalk, to one of the train stops that will take you to your condo. You don’t live far from the building by train, but it’s too far to walk. Luck strikes again when the train car you get into, towards the back, is empty save for a man in business attire who’s asleep. You’re both silent during the ride, keeping your heads down and once the train arrives at the station near your place you lead him off and straight to your building.

“Hang on.” You stop at the side of the entrance door to check for your building’s security. The last thing you need is anyone asking questions about why you’re returning home with a guard that has visible blood on his uniform. 

The security guard is behind the desk in the lobby, asleep with his hat over his face. You don’t want to wait for him to decide he has to get up, so you both creep into the lobby doors, holding your breaths as you tiptoe through and around the corner to the elevator.

With shaky hands, you input your code to unlock the front door and the two of you rush inside, still paranoid. It’s not until the door is locked do you finally let out the breath you feel you’ve been holding since the night began, shoulders sagging as you slide to the foyer floor.

J05HUΛ plops next to you, wincing and doubling over, hand hovering over his chest. You had almost forgotten about his chest, helping him ease the guard jacket off and undoing the tops of the overalls. You inspect the cracked device underneath his shirt and he grimaces as he touches it, hand flinching away. The pain hadn’t lessened much, but he tried not to dwell on it.

“What just happened?” you speak first, your voice seems too loud in your apartment.

“We left. I’m out.”

“What now?”

“I don’t know.” And neither do you. Everything happened so quickly that you could barely register the last handful of minutes.

“What even brought this on? I don’t even know how things dissolved into chaos. We just finished that meeting and I went to the bathroom, then the alarm started going off and I just - I didn’t know who else to look for.”

J05HUΛ smiles at you in the tiniest of ways at your words. “So you came to look for me?”

You return the gesture, exhausted but still genuine. “Yeah.” J05HUΛ keeps smiling before it slips and his expression is suddenly serious again. 

“5.C0UP5 - Seungcheol. He told us all to run.”

“He what?”

“He didn’t address us - the group - but I know the message was for us. And I knew what it meant. A few of the other members, I saw them running in the halls as I was looking for you and I know they were trying to get out too. We’ve never talked about it, since you know, we’re always being listened to,” he gestures to his now broken communicator. “But I’m pretty sure they wanted out too. I can only hope that they also escaped.” Worry flashes across J05HUΛ’s face, no doubt thoughts of his group mates flickering through his mind. 

Swiping a hand over your face, you do your best to stay calm. 

“Okay. So, we definitely have to leave Earth. You’re never going to be able to live how you want here. They’ll come looking for you.”

“Where do we go?”

“I don’t know. But the first thing we need to do is get your wounds looked at.” 

“Do you know someone who can help?”

“I think so, let’s get some supplies and go. I’m sure they’re going to come looking here eventually.”

Joshua has seen this man before. His tall height is hard to miss when he would be moving about the facility, shadowing other mechanics who would sometimes help him and the other members of 53V3NT33N. He’s only been working at the facility for a year, but he’s always around, especially if you’re in the room. He stays glued to your side, joking with you, helping you carry things, only ever asking you questions. Joshua always notices.

After you gathered up a backpack of what you classified as supplies, changed your clothes, and let Joshua charge a little with a charger you kept around for him, you left. After sneaking past your building security for the second time, the two of you got on another train to go a few blocks to another apartment building. When you reach the door you’re looking for, the man looks shocked to see you both, eyes darting up and down the hallway.

“Y/n?”

“Hey, Mingi. I need your help.”

You push past him into the apartment, Joshua trailing behind.

“Is…everything okay?” He looks between you and Joshua, clearly unsure what to do next.

“Mingi, I really need you to help me out here. He - he was shot. And we’re trying to get his communication device out, but I can’t, I just broke it. And we need a place to sleep if possible. I know showing up here and asking you this is a lot, but I would just really, really appreciate it if you could help me out here. Please?” Mingi blinks at you as you ramble, wide-eyed. He steals a few glances at Joshua who’s next to you, leaning against the wall. Both of his wounds are starting to take a toll on him, his body still feeling heavy and in need of repair and a longer charge.

“You want me to repair J05HUΛ and remove his tracker? Did - did you get clearance for this? Is this coming from the CEO?”

“No. It’s not.”

He looks at you again, sighing. “I don’t know, this doesn’t sound good. Maybe I should call -”

“Mingi, please?” You surge forward, grabbing his hands between your own. “Please, I’m begging you, please do this. For me?” Joshua feels a frown form on his face at the contact, staying silent as he watches Mingi stare down at you and your joined hands. Joshua’s no expert at human relationships, but the way that Mingi looks at you makes it clear he has romantic feelings for you and Joshua doesn’t like it. 

It feels like minutes tick by before the man agrees, saying he’ll do what he can.

Mingi leads the two of you to a room in his apartment that’s full of parts and tools. He mentions that he uses his spare bedroom as a workshop and gestures to the table in the middle of the room. Joshua takes his place on the table, watching as Mingi moves around another table littered with tools. There’s a chair pushed to the side of the room that you sit in, furiously typing on your phone.

Joshua wants to ask you what you’re doing, but he doesn’t get a chance to because Mingi is hovering over him with a sharp tool in his hand.

“Truth be told, I’m not sure how to properly remove this - they didn’t go over any of that with the junior mechanics, so I’ll have to just take it out with what I have. I think that means this is going to hurt…like a lot maybe.” Mingi apologizes, but something in Joshua’s mind tells him that he isn’t that sorry.

The first incision around the tracker that Mingi makes has Joshua unable to hold back a scream and you’re on your feet immediately, rushing over to him. Mingi only glances up momentarily, before cutting again, around the top outline of the tracker. Joshua tries his damnedest not to yell again, but can’t control it. The short-haired mechanic stops and turns to his desk of tools to grab what looks like a rag, handing it to Joshua.

“I know it hurts, but I have neighbors, so maybe bite this?” You take the cloth from Mingi and carefully put it into Joshua’s open mouth and he can’t help but notice the way your fingers graze his chin once he bites down and you move away.

The pain starts again and Joshua’s muffled yells fill the room. The pain is too much - more than anything he’s ever felt. The thumps from the fire extinguisher were one thing, but the sensation of a sharp object piercing him is too much for him to take. He’s grateful to feel your hand grasping his, but it feels brief, as his vision goes dark and he passes out.

When Joshua’s eyes open, the room is bathed in the faintest of warm light and he momentarily forgets where he is, blinking to get a better view of his surroundings. He moves to sit up, eyes scanning the room, seeing it’s dark still outside of the blinds. His gaze shifts down and he sees you lying on the floor wrapped in a blanket. He realizes he’s on a couch, charging as he was out. The memory of his “surgery” comes back, his hand reaching up to touch the space between his collarbones where his tracker has always been. It’s gone though, only a bandage wrapped around him. His arm that was shot is also wrapped up and he assumes Mingi patched that hole up. Both are still sore but not nearly as painful anymore.

He sits up which makes you stir and soon you’re upright too.

“Hey,” you whisper in the dark. “How are you feeling?”

“Better honestly. How long was I out?”

“A few hours. Mingi helped me bring you to the couch when he was done and I started charging you. You need your strength, especially after that.”

“You don’t need to sleep on the floor. I could’ve.”

“Joshua, you passed out. I wasn’t going to have you on the floor. And it’s fine. I was pretty tired so I fell right asleep.” You offer up a tired smile and Joshua thinks you look amazing, even given what’s going on.

“So, what’s going to happen now?”

“Well, Mingi let us crash for the night but we have to head out soon. We need to get to the spaceport so we can get off of Earth. I have a friend who I reached out to while you were resting. He offered to help us figure things out if we can get to him.”

“Where is he?”

“Salax.”

“Oh, where is -” A sudden rush of footsteps in the hallway outside of Mingi’s door has you both jolting, heads whipping towards the sound.

You jump up immediately, on edge. When you hear loud voices identifying themselves and saying they’re looking for automaton J0SHUA you know it’s time to go. Joshua’s already up and rushing to a window in Mingi's dining room, while you scoop up your backpack that has been on the floor next to you. 

Joshua throws the window open as Mingi comes into the room, saying your name. You turn to face him, guilt clear on his features.

“Did you call them?”

“Y/n, come on, this is crazy. I heard about what happened.”

“I can’t believe you fucking called them!” You’re fuming, stomping over to Mingi, ignoring that you have to look up to yell at him.

“I didn’t want to lose my job! If they find out about any of this I’m fucked! And it’s not too late for you. Just tell them he forced you to get him out or something.”

“But he didn’t. We left together!” 

“Are you really going to go on the run with a robot?! Give up your job and life and possibly get sent off to prison for a machine?!”

The urge to smack him is overwhelming, but you hold back, sneering at him instead. 

“It sounds a lot better than staying here with people I can’t trust. That “machine” has been much nicer to me than most humans I know.” 

“Oh come on, Y/n.”

“Go to hell, Mingi.” That’s the last thing you say before joining Joshua at the window, following him out onto the fire escape.

In the distance, you hear voices enter Mingi’s apartment, but the two of you don’t turn around, rushing down all three floors and jumping to the ground.

“Where now?!” Joshua whispers, the alley you end up in is dark with barely any light but it keeps you hidden.

“We need to get to the spaceport and get off of Earth.”

“And how far away is that?”

“We’ve gotta get to a train stop. It shouldn’t take too long. We just need to get on and keep moving. I have a way off the planet.”

You and Joshua stay as low to the ground as you can, keeping your bodies pressed flat against the side of the building, and take the alley in the opposite direction of where the front door is to Mingi’s building.

There’s a small street behind the building and the only signs of life you see are a few stray creatures. The two of you, as quickly and quietly as possible, go a few blocks away to a stop that isn’t so close to where they’re immediately looking. The whole time you can hear the loud, booming voices of everyone who’s looking for you and Joshua receding the further away you get.

Your heart is beating so loudly that it’s all you hear as you make your way into the shadows and finally rush to a stop and board the train. You don’t relax until you and Joshua make it to your seats but even still you can’t help but look over your shoulder and scan the rest of the passengers in the car afraid you’ll see the face of someone who will snatch both you and Joshua up and bring you back to face the consequences of your escape.

When you and Joshua reach the spaceport, you keep your eyes open and alert both for any guards that may have the idea that this is your next stop. The two of you do your best to blend into the crowd of people that walk by, attempting to look like any other normal people. There are plenty of commuter and private ships arriving and departing all the time, but there’s also a part of the spaceport that has spaces that can be rented to park your own ships. 

In one spot, there's a ship parked, one that you haven’t touched in what feels like years - in reality, it’s only been about half a year.

“You have a ship?” Joshua asks when you finally reach the spot and subsequently, your small ship that has been parked dormant and untouched. He’s genuinely surprised - he doesn’t remember you talking about flying or knowing how to.

“Yeah, I used to want to be a pilot. I did a bunch of training and did a lot of test flying, but it didn’t work out in the end. Luckily I was serious enough that I bought this cheap little ship to practice. I don’t fly it much anymore given my job.” You’re out of breath as you talk, nerves on high alert to leave as you inspect your ship once the two of you are inside.

Aside from the dust that’s collected, everything seems to be in good condition. After powering on the engine, you notice your gas gauge isn’t as full as you’d like.

“Maybe I should grab gas before we head out.” Salax will take time to get to and you think you have enough but it could be cutting it close. You mention this to Joshua who steps out of the ship with you, prepared to head to a fueling station to buy a container of gas.

You don’t have a chance to do this when you hear shouting in the distance that sounds like both your name and Joshua’s automaton identification. When you look to your right, you see a handful of uniformed guards, running towards the two of you with weapons raised.

“Fuck never mind, we’ll have to chance it!” You grip Joshua’s hand and rush back into the ship. Once you stumble back aboard, you immediately rush to the cockpit and survey all of the controls until you find the one you need to close the door and start the engine.

As soon as you get the engine to start, you immediately begin to lift off, and you hear bullets hit the metal of the ship, but nothing seems to set off any of the emergency alarms. Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see the guards through the window, running toward the spaceship and waving their arms and weapons in the air. You ignore it as you take off, going up, up, up until you’re in the air, and heading out into the expanse of the sky, as streaks of orange appear in front of you with the impending sunrise.

You thank past you for leaving travel food and water rations behind on your ship after your last trip. It’s barely enough to get you through, you think, but it’ll do. There’s plenty of electricity for Joshua at least so he stays charged and well-rested on your journey. Your autopilot takes charge, keeping your ship coasting through the stars and on course for Salax.

As the days morph into weeks you lose track of time. All you can do is sleep, talk, or gaze into the expanse of space. The time allows you to learn more about Joshua beyond what you already know. Knowing he’s always wanted to get out and live a normal life makes you feel sad for some reason. 

At least you’ve always had a choice. For Joshua, the whole reason he was even created was to be someone else’s to order around and do what they say. He’s never gotten a chance to do anything else.

“I’ve just always wanted to be a regular person. I see humans walking around wherever they want, doing whatever they want, whenever they want. I wanted it so bad I started hating humans, loathing even. Why can’t I have that, you know? Why was I made like this?” Joshua keeps his face turned away, eyes fixed on the sky outside. “I care about the rest of my members, but if I had a choice, I don’t think I’d choose this life. I’ve always just wanted to, I don’t know, push a button and have a do-over. Maybe start from my creation and be born and experience a normal, actual life and have human experiences.”

One of his hands rests in his lap, the other under his chin. You’re both sitting on a padded bench in front of one of the small windows, legs folded as you stare out into the dark. Slowly, you inch your hand closer, resting it on the one in his lap. The gesture startles him a little, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he turns his hand over to cup yours.

“You may not be able to start over in time, but this is still a way of starting over and starting a new life. You can at least do what you want now, for the most part.”

His smile falters a little as he thinks. “Do you think they’re still looking for us though? Will they come looking on Salax?”

“I’m not sure. We’re only stopping to meet with a friend of mine. He has a place we can stay for a night or so just to give us a chance to breathe since we’re off Earth. Plus, we’ll need to refuel when we get there since I couldn’t fill the tank before we had to leave.”

Joshua hums, more words on his mind. “Even if they come to find us, I won’t let them take us back. I want to start over and I won’t give up.” 

He squeezes your hand and you return the gesture. “And I won’t either. Truthfully, I didn’t have much going on back on Earth except my job and I mean, you were my job anyway, so I can’t be missing much.”

Joshua doesn’t say anything else, he just nods. He looks like he has more words, maybe ask you something else, but he doesn’t, both of you going back to studying the stars, hands still locked.

“Can I ask you about your family?” Joshua questions you one day. He had heard you mention earlier that you were getting closer to Salax and that you were maybe a day away from arrival. 

While soaring through space has been uneventful in terms of much of anything happening, it’s given Joshua a chance to finally, for once in his existence, relax. He hasn’t had to worry about rushing to schedules or singing and dancing. He’s been able to do nothing except sit, talk to you, and not have to worry about much else. It’s a much-needed break for him that he appreciates, even given the circumstances.

You’ve talked about how you didn’t love your job as a manager, but he made the job more enjoyable, and how being a pilot was the only thing you ever pursued, but that was another thing you didn’t love, even after all the work you put into getting a license and training. 

So you had settled on this job when your friend, a former manager who worked with the group, decided to quit. You don’t have a roommate or any real friends other than a few acquaintances, but you’ve been skirting around talking about any parents or siblings and he’s curious. He doesn’t have any of that so he just wants to know.

The question makes you bristle and for a second, he wonders if he should take his question back and tell you to forget he asked, but after a moment you answer.

“They died. My mom was a pilot too and she got caught in a meteor shower and died when I was a teenager. Her ship took too many hits and she was close enough to Earth that she crashed on the other side of the planet. Then, my dad got sick a few years ago before I started working at the company and he passed.” Your hands fiddle with some peeling plastic on the control panel, not looking at Joshua.

“Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“No, it’s okay. The question was bound to come up eventually. I’m not close with anyone else in my family - we all just grew apart over the years. It happens.” You shrug your shoulders, the air in the cockpit feeling heavier than it did before. Joshua approaches you, hesitant hands reaching out unsure where to touch to console you. 

He feels nervous and second-guesses whether or not he should make contact, not wanting to make you uncomfortable, but the slump of your shoulders tells him that you need comfort. So he reaches for you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you close to his chest. You stiffen, but only for a moment, before going lax in his hold.

Joshua keeps you in his arms, neither of you saying anything or making any move to separate. You stay like that until you start to yawn, tiredness finally hitting. He walks with you back to the room with the two cots you’ve both been sleeping in, tucking you in. Joshua moves to back away and go to the other cot, to rest himself, but you grab his arm, not letting him go.

“You can sleep over here with me tonight. If you want.” Your voice is small and even if he wanted to say no, which of course he doesn’t, he couldn’t anyway. So, Joshua climbs into the cot with you, letting you bury your face into his chest as he holds you.

You lay in silence for a few seconds before he speaks, “I’m your family now. And I’m not going anywhere. Not ever.” To him, it feels like the right thing to say and it’s the truth. Joshua has had his feelings for you growing over time and now that he's gotten this time with just the two of you, you are the most important person to him in the galaxy. He can’t imagine doing any of this without you ever again.

It’s quiet again before you sniffle, clinging closer to him, your fingers twisting in the fabric.

“Thank you, Joshua.”

“Of course.”

You fall asleep then, the gentlest of snores leaving you. He decides he’ll rest here and worry about charging when you wake up. He’s got enough juice not to shut down and he doesn’t want to risk waking you and having this moment stop for him.

Salax is as busy as you remember from the one time you’ve been. When you finally land a few days later, the spaceport is full of people departing from their ships. You see Hoseok almost immediately though, his wide smile and flailing arms unmistakable. 

When you reach him, he pulls you into a hug, talking in your ear about how much he’s missed you.

“I missed you too, Hobi,” you laugh, using his old nickname.

He pulls back, lightly squeezing your shoulder before his eyes shift over to Joshua. 

“And this is the friend you said you were bringing, right?”

“Yeah. This is Joshua.”

Joshua keeps his head low and bows to Hoseok who pulls him into a hug instead. “Nice to meet you! If Y/n likes you then I do too!” Joshua looks caught off guard but offers a hesitant smile in return.

Hoseok quickly ushers you both to follow him to his small home near the spaceport. Hoseok does ship repair on Salax, so he stays nearby which makes arriving and subsequently leaving easier. You don’t think anyone on Salax would turn Joshua in or tell that he’s here, seeing how so many people visit Salax for anonymity, but you don’t want to take any chances.

His house is small and simple: a kitchen, a living room, a bathroom, and two bedrooms. He points you to the room you and Joshua will share including the bed you’ll both sleep in. The two of you had been resting on the two separate cots on your ship, except for the night he held you until you fell asleep, so this’ll be the first time you’ll be in the same bed since then.

You ignore that fact to focus on Hoseok telling you where everything is, adding that you can stay as long as you need.

“We appreciate it, but we need to be somewhere where we don’t have a chance of being recognized, so we won’t stay too long.” Joshua nods at your words, looking a little more relaxed now that you’re inside, away from anyone who could notice him.

The mechanic turns to look at you both, hands on his hips as he studies you. 

“Okay, well now that we’re inside, you wanna tell me why you suddenly sent me a message practically begging me to let you crash here due to an emergency?”

Now that you’re on Salax and in the same room, you feel more comfortable telling Hoseok the truth. He makes you a hot meal as you talk, telling him about the escape and everything that happened between then and now. Hoseok listens the whole time, joining you with a plate of his own as you tell him that now you just need to find somewhere that’s safe and not likely to get caught. Somewhere you two can just live freely.

“Oh! Have you thought about Lumen?” Hoseok asks after you finish talking, his mouth full of noodles.

“Lumen?” The name sounds vaguely familiar, but you can’t place it.

“It’s supposed to be the safest planet in the galaxy. I’ve heard people mention it in my travels, and a friend of mine told me a little more about it, but I’ve never been. You have to travel as far North from our solar system as you possibly can. It’s beside Galaxy 428B.”

“Are there people there? Is it super populated?”

“Yeah, there’s people of some kind there. And I’ve known quite a few people who have set out with Lumen in mind.”

“Do you know anyone who has been there and back?” 

Hoseok shakes his head, leaning over his coffee table to pour you more water after you guzzle down your first glass.

“Nope. I just know it’s where people really want to be, especially people that may be looking for a new place to call home.”

You and Joshua’s eyes meet, sharing a look that you already know the definition of. You have to get to Lumen. Currently, there aren’t any other options for places for you two to go to live without constantly looking over your shoulders, waiting for someone from Earth to drag you both to Phylaca for the rest of your lives. The idea of no one having been to Lumen before makes you incredibly nervous, but it sounds like your best chance at any form of freedom.

Even without words, you can tell Joshua is likely thinking the same things, him offering you a simple head nod.

“We’ll go to Lumen, but we need fuel first though. You said it’s in another solar system?”

“Mmhmm. I can fuel you up for sure and take a look at your ship. I know you were never too good at any mechanical stuff.” Hoseok laughs at the frown and roll of your eyes you give him.

“Do you think you could do that today?”

“I have a few clients whose ships I have to look at today, but for you, I’ll get it done sooner rather than later. When are you trying to leave?”

“Uhh, is tomorrow going to work?”

Your old friend chokes on his food, coughing to swallow the noodles.

“Tomorrow?! You’re going to go soaring into the solar system to find a planet that no one has proof of existing, tomorrow?”

“Is that too short notice?” Hoseok blinks at you as if trying to decipher if you’re being serious. When you don’t crack a smile or say anything else, he quickly realizes that you are completely serious.

“Well shit, I guess not. If that’s what you want, I won’t stop you. I’ll make sure you can at least make it out there and maybe even make it back if it doesn’t turn out the way you’re hoping. Just in case.”

Ignoring the idea of not even making it to your destination and possibly embarking on this trip for nothing, you swallow your current mouthful of food, thank Hoseok, and work towards finishing the rest of your plate. Having only eaten bagged or freeze-dried food while flying to Salax, you’re more than thankful for the hot meal. 

After dinner, you take your first real, hot shower in forever. Your shower on the ship is cramped and small and the water never gets to the steamy temperature you prefer. While you bathe, your mind focuses only on the fact that you’ll get to sleep in an actual bed tonight. Hoseok lends you some of his clothes while yours that you’ve scrubbed clean dry, the cloth pants and t-shirt ill-fitting but they’re a nice change from the same two pairs of cargo pants and t-shirts you’ve been rotating through. 

When you leave the bathroom, Joshua is sitting on Hoseok’s couch, also donned in his clothes, and is flipping through the TV.

“Hey,” you call out, getting his attention.

“Hey. I don’t think I’m used to seeing you in such casual clothes,” he laughs, eying your outfit.

“I could say the same for you. I’m used to seeing you in nothing but designer fits.” 

“It’s nice though. I never really got to pick the clothes in my closet, only what I’d put on for the day.”

Joining him on the couch, you sit close, your legs not quite touching. It may sound stupid, but even given what’s happened up until now, you’re not sure where you and Joshua stand as far as your relationship - if you can even call it that. The most contact you’ve had other than holding hands as you ran for your lives, was the hug turned cuddle he gave you before you landed on Salax. 

The one thing you do know is how much the care you have for him has blossomed into so much more than the crush you’ve harbored since you first started spending time together back on Earth. Doing nothing but spending uninterrupted time together has solidified for you just how special he is and how important he is to you. Leaving everything you’ve ever known in your life sounds crazy but doing it for Joshua - with Joshua - felt like the best decision you’ve ever made.

At this point you could say you love him, but is it too soon for that? Joshua’s never even been in a relationship so what does this all even mean to him?

Before you can think too hard about it, his arm raises, draping over your shoulder. Trying not to react too obviously, you look at him out of the corner of your eye, seeing the way his jaw is tight, eyes still trained forward to the TV. Instead of saying anything, you lean against him and close the gap between the two of you on the couch as you rest your head on his shoulder. You can revisit this conversation later, but for now, you just want to appreciate this moment of calm before you’re on the move again.

Later that night, after Hoseok finishes working on a few clients’ ships and makes dinner, he begins his inspection of your ship. You join him by the spaceport while Joshua stays behind to rest. You sit on a spare fold-out chair Hoseok carried from his house for you. 

“So, an idol automaton huh?” He smirks, quirking an eyebrow as he fills up the gas tank.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“I don’t know, I just didn’t strike you as someone who’d end up with an automaton. And an idol at that. How taboo.” He’s teasing, of course, laughing when you scoff.

“I’ve never cared about someone being an automaton, a human, or an alien. I’m open-minded, thank you very much.”

“Yeah, yeah. But still, you gave up your whole life back on Earth for him.”

“I know that, but it’s not like I had a whole lot going for me anyway. My job was whatever, the people I hung out with weren’t reliable, and it’s not like my family talks to me. It seemed like the only thing that made sense. Still does.”

“You must really like him.”

“I do. A whole lot. People can say what they want but automatons are just as much human as us. So what if they don’t bleed or have organs? They have personalities and feelings and sentience and Joshua is eons better to be around than any human I’ve met.”

Hoseok gives you a look over his clear work glasses.

“Not including you obviously. But I do like him. I didn't think about whether I'd go with him or not when he said he wanted to escape. I didn’t second-guess it or anything. I'll go wherever we need to get away from all that shit. Together.”

“Who knew you could be so sappy!” You flip him off, Hoseok only cackling at the gesture as he puts away his gas canister and moves around the ship to inspect it. “Well, I’m happy for you, Y/n. I know life has been feeding you shit for way too long. Being a fugitive seems like the nicest thing the universe could’ve done for you.”

“I agree. I just needed to run for my life to another planet for some real fulfillment.”

Hoseok rambles on as he does his inspection, telling you that things have been good for him too. He’s been in Salax for a couple of years and isn’t sure if how long he’ll stay, but he makes decent money now and has a solid clientele. He too seems much happier since he left Earth and you can’t blame him. Hoseok has always been a friendly man. The only reason you became friends was because he befriended you in pilot school and attached himself to you. At first, he was a little too excitable for your taste, but over the years he’s only served to become a staple in your life - even when he left Earth for a different life. He’s always been a ray of sunshine in your life, but seeing him shine even brighter now satisfies you. 

After a thorough inspection, Hoseok only sees minor dings from the bullets on Earth and a rusted thruster which he says he can fix with no problem. He sends you to bed, ignoring your insistence to help him. 

“Just because you can fly the ship doesn’t mean you know how to fix it,” he chides, waving you off. That’s also true. You know the controls on most standard ships and can navigate well, but when it comes to parts and repair, that’s not your strong suit.

“Don’t stay out here too late doing all this, okay? If you need to rest and work on it more tomorrow, we don’t mind.”

“Nah, I’ll have it done in two, three hours tops. Besides, you’re on the run. You can’t afford to stick around too long.”

He shoos you away one more time and you finally listen, making your way back to his house, at least bringing your chair back with you.

Joshua didn’t mean to eavesdrop per se. He just wanted to know where you were and when you were coming to rest. Since it’s dark out, the panic of staying hidden so much isn’t as intense, so he leaves Hoseok’s house to come find you at the spaceport. It’s not hard to see the two of you when not many people are out here at this time. As he approaches, he notices you and Hoseok are talking but doesn’t pick up what you’re talking about until he gets closer and hears his name. He ducks behind a ship parked a little ways away from yours, ears tuning in when he hears you talking about him.

He realizes that you’ve just said out loud that you like him. A lot. Joshua thinks if he had a beating heart it’d be pounding in his chest. Ever since you started to grow closer on the trip here, he’s wanted so badly to tell you that he wants to be more than friends with you. He knows for a fact he’s wanted to kiss you for a long, long time and he’s been holding out hope that maybe that time will come soon, especially now that it’s just the two of you.

He’s decided against it each time it passed his mind on the flight here and it came back when you rested your head on him earlier. You were so warm and so soft and you smelled amazing and he wanted nothing more than to finally kiss you, but he didn’t. You haven’t had a conversation about what you felt for him. He knows it’s always been more than professional, and he thinks that maybe it’s romantic, but the last thing he wants to do is assume.

 “I'll go wherever we need to get away from all that shit. Together.”

Hearing you say that - that you’ll do this together, does give him the courage he needs, especially knowing that you do care about him in a non-platonic way.

When the conversation shifts between you and Hoseok, he lingers for a little while longer, then decides to go back to the house to let you and your friend catch up. When Joshua first met Hoseok, he couldn’t help but feel something negative stir in him when he embraced you, but when Hoseok did the same to him and continued to be extremely friendly, Joshua’s guard dropped.

Once he’s back to the house he retreats to the room you and he will share, getting into the bed you’ll both sleep in. The idea of sleeping so close to you again makes Joshua smile, wanting to put his arm around you like he did a few days ago. That gesture had taken courage he didn’t know he had, but since he’s done it and now that he knows you also have romantic feelings for him, there’s a new sense of boldness rushing through his wiring.

Joshua hears the front door open, but he only hears what sounds like a single person walking around. He wonders if it’s you, and when the bedroom door opens the next moment and he sees you poke your head in, he smiles softly at you.

“Hi,” he greets, watching you close the door before coming over to the bed and slipping under the covers, facing away from him.

“Hey,” your voice is a whisper even though he doesn’t hear Hoseok moving about. He drapes one of his arms over your waist and you immediately scoot back into him, his front pressed against your back. Joshua can’t help but lean over and inhale your scent, enjoying the way you smell like what he can only describe as home for him.

His lips are dangerously close to the soft skin of your neck and he wrestles with the idea of placing a kiss there for minutes, weighing the consequences before doing it. Joshua lets his lips graze your neck and he instantly hears the way your breath catches in your throat and notices that you jerk yourself back, body rubbing against him.

“Sorry,” you blurt, your body stiffening, but Joshua doesn’t mind.

“For what?”

“I don’t know, I just reacted. That’s a really sensitive spot for me.” You sound embarrassed, but Joshua isn’t bothered in the slightest.

Instead, he leans over and kisses that same spot again, getting the same reaction and he determines that he needs you to react like that more. His lips attach to your neck again, sucking a mark on the skin with enough force to make your toes curl. Tiny whines leave you as he lavishes your soft skin with his mouth and one of his hands - hands that are much bigger than yours - roams over your body, sliding up until he’s cupping your breast over your shirt. He cups you, fingers finding your nipple through the fabric.

You let out a gasp of his name and Joshua groans at the sound. Hearing you like this, all for him only makes him want you more.

He’s much more confident as he slips his hand under your shirt, kneading at your breast without the clothing barrier. Pleasure shoots up your spine as his fingers tug and tweak at your nipples, alternating between playing with each one. For a moment, you mentally apologize to Hoseok as you feel wetness pool between your legs, surely making the crotch of the pants messier with each twist of his fingers and each swipe of his tongue.

You’re sure he’s left your neck littered with marks with the way he’s teasing you without even realizing it. 

“Joshua,” you breathe out, needing so badly to be touched elsewhere. You hadn’t planned on having your first time with him be so soon, but your building desire for him has only gotten more intense and he’s here right now, touching you like this and you need him so badly.

“What is it?”

“Need you to touch me.”

“Where?”

Instead of using your words, you take his hand and direct him beneath the waistband of your pants and between your legs.

“Oh my god, Y/n, you’re so wet,” His words are more of an observation, his tone full of surprise as he swirls his fingers through your arousal. You still clench around nothing at what he says and maneuver his fingers to your clit.

“Rub right there,” you direct him and he does, your body instantly jerking.

“Like this?” The pads of his fingers catch against your clit roughly and he’s using the perfect amount of pressure to have you stifling your moans, and failing miserably.  

“Just like that, fuck.” Joshua adjusts to get a better look at you, gasping when he sees your expression. Your eyes flutter open and closed with each sound you make. Your lips are pulled between your teeth, eyebrows knitting together. Your hips move along with his hand, chasing the release that’s so close yet so far away.

Joshua’s fingers get curious, trailing lower to your sticky folds, prodding at your entrance.

“Yes, please,” you beg him, trying to adjust to get his fingers inside of you. He obliges, slipping a thick digit into your pussy, and you let out another soft whimper. 

Joshua revels in how slippery you feel around his finger and how tight your body is. He pumps his finger in and out of you and lets out a pleased sound of his own. He’s never felt anything like this before, and everything in him is on high alert, his hunger for you stirring deep within him. 

He slips another finger inside of you and you react immediately. One of your hands grasps at his arm, your nails digging in.

“Faster, please.”

He obliges, fingers pistoning out of you quicker than you’re ready for. You see stars dot your vision as the tips of his fingers brush that sensitive, spongy spot in you, your orgasm rushing at you with each move of his wrist. The fact that Joshua is an automaton nearly slips your mind until you take notice of just how fast he’s moving. He was built with endurance in mind which means he doesn’t tire the same as you or any past partners. In the past, at this point, a human’s arm would’ve gotten tired, but not Joshua's. His fingers continue to pummel your pussy, palm now cupping you, the heel of his hand grinding against your clit.

His pace stays steady and soon you’re hurdling over the edge, nearly shrieking out his name. You have to twist your head and bury your face in the pillow to muffle your yelp as you cum, trying to stay mindful that the third person in this house could hear you falling apart around Joshua’s fingers at any moment.

The automaton marvels at you when your body tenses up before going lax, your hips stuttering as you buck against his hand a few more times. Joshua is obsessed with this - with you. Obsessed with the way you feel in his arms and his hands and how you feel around his fingers. He can’t help but wonder just how good you’ll feel around his dick. He’s already hard, his erection grinding into your lower back. That pressure feels good, but he just knows having his dick inside of you will be even better.

“Joshua. Please, I need you - need your cock. Do you want to?”

“Yes, I need to feel you so bad.” You take a moment to think through your lust, wondering which position would be best given the small bed and Joshua’s limited experience. You quickly decide to ride him, taking his fingers out of you so you can strip.

With wide, eager eyes, he watches you undress, eyes studying every inch of bare skin he gets to see. Curiosity overcomes him when his eyes dart to his still drenched fingers and he brings them to his mouth. When you’re naked and turn back to Joshua, you moan at the sight of him sucking your arousal off of his fingers. His eyes slip closed, and he lets out a satisfied hum so deep, your pussy aches at the mere sound.

Frantic hands help him out of his sleep clothes next, your eyes sweeping over him in the dim moonlight that creeps in through the cracks in the blinds. He’s unblemished and perfect. His arms and chest are buff and sculpted and the urge to cover him in marks of your own is strong, but that will have to wait. You need him so bad and you want to finish before Hoseok returns for the night, the fear of being overheard making you move with purpose.

You take in the sheer size and girth of his cock, recalling yet again that he was made to be perfect in every way. For a moment, you worry you won’t be able to take him all the way, but you’re sure as hell going to try.

Joshua moans out loud when you grip his length, giving him a few strokes. He watches you spit on it, using your saliva to slick him up before you swing your leg over his waist. Keeping his dick steady, you hover over him, the tip slowly breaching your entrance as you ease down further.

Each inch of him has your body shaking above him, both of you letting out shared noises of pleasure. When he’s fully sheathed inside of you, a cry from the depths of your stomach slips out. You’ve never felt so full in your life and the stretch of him is almost too much.

You lift yourself on your knees before dropping back down, eyes squeezing shut at how good he feels. It’s hard to find a rhythm, at first, but when you do, it’s desperate and sloppy but exactly what you need. Joshua’s hands rest on your waist as he thrusts upward each time you lower, fucking up into you in perfect unison with your movements.

“Joshua, fuck. You’re s-so big,” you mewl, hands planted on his chest as you bounce.

“You like that?”

“I fucking love it.”

Pride takes over Joshua as his hold on you tightens. He pushes his hips up even faster, watching your eyes widen and your mouth hang open. He wants to memorize you like this. You’re always stunning, and you have been since the moment he met you, but this is a different kind of beauty that he’s never seen and he loves it.

Joshua plants his feet on the bed, using the leverage to thrust up with more force, almost knocking you over the side of the bed, but his hands keep you put.

“S-shit. Joshua, Shua, just like that!” The shortened version of his name just slips out and Joshua decides that he enjoys the sound of it.

He moves at a speed that makes you dizzy, the bed underneath you creaking under the force. Joshua is fucking you so hard, so rough, and you swear each thrust is deeper than the last even with you on top.

“Star, you feel so good. So tight around me,” Joshua grunts. “You’re so perfect.”

“I’m so close, Shua. I’m g-gonna cum!”

“Cum for me, Star. Wanna see you,” His eyes take in your expression of ecstasy and the way your breasts bounce, but they finally land on your lips. They look so red since you’ve been gnawing on them and they look so shiny, practically calling to him to kiss you.

He does just that, one of his hands moving up to the back of your head to pull you down to his face. Joshua’s lips collide with yours, kissing you for the first time. The sensation is foreign to him, yet it feels like this is where he always should’ve ended up, here with you, buried deep inside of your warmth while your lips mold together, moving in a frantic rhythm as you swallow each other’s needy sounds.

Joshua’s tongue breaches the seam of your lips, lapping at every inch of your mouth he can reach. He eagerly wraps his tongue around yours and suckles while driving his hips up again and again. His lap is covered in your wetness and he feels you tremble above him.

“I’m cumming, Shua, I’m cumming!” You whine into his mouth and in the next second your limbs go stiff as you topple over the edge, vision blurring as you cum. The breath gets knocked out of you as you turn to jelly in Joshua’s arms. He has to keep you upright, but then he cums right after you, hips almost bruising yours while he shoves himself into you to the hilt, painting your gummy walls with his release. 

A pathetic whimper falls from your lips as he empties into you, pumping you even fuller. He only falters a little as he fucks his cum back up into you.

“J-Joshua. Please, I’m so sensitive,” your voice sounds scratchy to your ears and it matches how tired the rest of you is.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he pulls out of you carefully and oh so gently.

You flop next to him, lying in a heap against him as he wraps the blankets around you both.

“Wow,” he speaks after a while, almost feeling like he’s floating.

“Yeah. I can’t believe that was your first time.”

“It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever done.” You can’t help but chuckle at him, fingers absentmindedly stroking up and down his arm draped over your waist.

“Just remember that I don’t have the stamina you do. I need a little time between to get my strength back.”

“I can wait. Do you need anything? I can go get you some water or I can get another blanket.”

“No, no. The only thing I need from you is to hold me.”

“I can do that.” He leans over you again to plant a kiss on your cheek, the gesture incredibly sweet.

“Good night, Joshua.”

“Good night, Star.”

The sun wakes you up the next morning, your body feeling sore and warm. When you realize that you’re still in Joshua’s arms naked, you remember last night. You smile to yourself, turning to look at him, seeing his eyes are already open.

“Good morning,” he greets, kissing you as soon as he catches sight of your lips. He swallows up your attempt to respond, a large hand cupping your face.

When he finally lets you go after you remind him again that you do need to breathe, he stays close to your face.

“I think I’ve found my new favorite thing,” he muses.

“And what’s that?”

“Kissing you. I think it might even be better than having sex with you.” 

You snort at his answer, trying to hide the way your face burns at his words. “Well, you can do plenty of both of those things once we’re in flight again, but we should probably get a move on the day.”

He pouts momentarily, but finally agrees, letting you get up with one more kiss.

Hoseok is up when you’re dressed and leave the room, already in the kitchen when you come in.

“Morning sleepy head! You guys gonna head out soon?”

“Yeah, but I wanted to shower again since I won’t get the luxury of a full-sized shower on the ship.”

“Go for it. Your clothes are dry also, they’re on the couch. And you have to make sure you eat and take some food! Your boyfriend can’t eat but you have to!” 

Both you and Joshua look at each other when he says that, but neither of you says anything about the new title for him, which Hoseok notices, laughing at the looks on your faces.

Two hours later when you’re fed, showered, and packed, Hoseok walks you to your ship, both you and Joshua are well-rested and ready for your journey. He demands that you try and radio him when you get there (“and you will get there,” he makes sure to add).

“I can’t thank you enough for this, Hoseok. You’re really saving us here.”

“Of course. It’s the least I can do for my friend.” He flashes you his heart-shaped smile once more and gives you a bear hug, arms squeezing you tight. “Be safe okay? I’ll be here for a while if you need me."

“I appreciate you more than I can say. And I say this with love, but I hope I don’t need to come back.”

“Fair. I also say this with love, but me too.”

Hoseok embraces Joshua next, telling him to take good care of you.

“I will. I always will.”

Another round of goodbyes later and you’re both back on your ship. You punch in the vague coordinates Hoseok could give you. Since no one knows where Lumen is exactly, all you can do is type in coordinates that are North, next to Galaxy 428B, and hope for the best.

Right before you lift off the ground, you wave at Hoseok through the window then steer the ship until you start your ascent. Once you breach the last layer of the atmosphere, you’re off again and you turn on the autopilot, letting your ship take over and do the most tedious part which is coasting until you reach your destination, whenever that’ll be.

“Are we on our way?” Joshua finally asks from his seat to your right as the dark expanse of outer space stretches in front of you.

“Yep. We’ve probably got months of just this.”

“And the ship is flying itself?”

“Well yeah, that’s how autopilot works, remember? We did it for Salax.”

“Just checking,” Joshua gives you a look that you can’t decipher before getting up and making it to you in a few strides, crashing his lips against yours. He kisses you breathlessly yet again, pulling away and letting you pant against his lips.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“You said we could when we were back on the ship,” he pouts, his round, brown eyes sparkling back at you.

“I know and we can, but right now?”

“Only if you want to, of course.”

“I do.”

“Good!” Joshua scoops you up into his arms as if you weigh nothing and carries you to the sleeping quarters of the ship.

“Oh my god, I’ve created a sex monster!” You giggle as he places you on one of the cots and starts pulling his clothes off.

“Not my fault being inside you is the best experience I’ve ever felt. And now we have so much time to spend doing it.” 

You can’t really argue with him on that. There isn’t much to do when you’re coasting through space for an undetermined amount of time. So, you let Joshua get his fill of your body until you need to rest, eat, use the bathroom, and check the course of the ship.

Once all of your obligations are done, he fucks you again and again, almost making up for all of the time you couldn’t spend together. Joshua is an extremely fast learner and becomes an expert on all of the things you like and the ways you like to be touched in no time. And even though you’re exhausted you can’t find it in you to complain.

The time to Lumen feels almost unbearable. It’s a much longer journey than any you’ve ever taken. It gives you even more time to spend with Joshua which makes it all the more bearable. Lying and talking with him occupies all of your time (when he’s not bending you over any surface on the ship he can to try all of the things he’s only ever heard about). You love how easy it is to be with him and how easily he’s picked on habits of being a boyfriend and taking care of you. Even if you weren’t stuck in a flying metal tin with him you still don’t think you’d get sick of spending time with him like this.

That being said, you can’t help the paranoia that still creeps into your mind. What if this trip is all for nothing? What if you are flying towards a dead end and there is no Lumen, only a galaxy that goes on forever and ever? Sure, you can go back to Salax - you know that Hoseok will help you both and likely hide you until you deem it safe to be out and about on the planet, but you’ve never been very fond of Salax and don’t know if you necessarily want to call it your home long term.

“You look like you’re deep in thought,” Joshua interrupts your overactive brain, your doubts sitting heavy in the pit of your stomach.

You turn away from the window that you’ve been transfixed staring out of for who knows how long. You pull the blanket you’re draped in tighter around your body giving Joshua a small quirk of your lips. 

“Yeah, I was just thinking…”

“Clearly,” Joshua sidles up behind you, wrapping his arms around you, and pulling you close. “About what?” Your body automatically leans into him, enjoying the warmth emanating from his bare chest.

“I’m just worried. What if we don’t find Lumen? Hoseok said that he doesn’t even know anyone who’s successfully made it and reported back. That’s terrifying. What if all of those people didn’t make it? What if they just ended up floating in space forever? Or what if Lumen is extremely hostile or unsafe? What if any of those travelers died? What if -”

“Hey, hey. Look at me,” Joshua stops your spiraling, turning you in his arms to face him. “We don’t know any of those things, okay? All we can do is keep going and see where we end up. Worrying about it won’t help now will it?”

“No…”

“Exactly. So let’s just see what happens. How long do we have before we reach the galaxy it’s supposedly next to?”

“I’ll check,” he lets you unravel yourself from his hold so you can approach the cockpit to read the navigation. “We’re actually not that far from Galaxy 428B. Maybe another few weeks or so if we’re lucky. It’s already been a few months since we left Salax so it hopefully won’t be too much longer. If it’s even there that is.”

“Sit down, Star.” The usage of your nickname from Joshua’s lips only serves to make you melt, doing as he says and sinking into the seat in front of the control panel. Joshua approaches you, spinning the chair to face him and bending at the waist to kiss you.

His lips move over yours lazily, tongue soon following to poke your lips, asking for entrance. You let him in, his tongue immediately moving into your mouth. Joshua kisses you hard, hands cradling your face as your arms loop around his neck.

Slowly, he sinks to his knees in front of you, spreading your legs open to get a look at your bare core. He makes a sound of appreciation deep in the back of his throat before surging forward, burying his face between your thighs. His tongue licks you from your entrance up to your clit a few times. Already having you sinking down in the seat to get closer to his face.

Joshua’s tongue plunges into your hole as he eats you out sloppily but with purpose. He laps at you, making out with your cunt. Your hands fly to his hair, fingers tugging at the strands as you yell out for him, legs shaking as they wrap around his head to keep him where he is.

You already know Joshua is coaxing an orgasm out of you to distract you and keep you from worrying and it’s definitely working.

Joshua has done his best to be the calm one out of the two of you. When you start to stress and worry about where your journey will take you, he uses words of reassurance to keep you level-headed and uses sex to distract you which seems to work for both of you. When you’re not doing that though or when you’re asleep is when he also starts to have his own thoughts of dread.

Of course, he has the same worries as you; worries that your trip will only end in your demise or that you’ll get lost in space. It’s been months since you started your journey into the unknown and neither of you have any idea if you’re anywhere closer to your end goal. Joshua knows he can’t truly die, not in the same way a human, you, would. At worst, he’ll run out of charge if the ship is somehow damaged to the point that the electricity goes out. Then he’s in trouble. But you, there are so many terrible things that could happen to you. 

You could starve or freeze to death. If you’re attacked by pirates you could be injured or even killed. The list of terrible things that could fall upon you is endless and it’s the main thing that sometimes keeps him from relaxing and letting himself close his eyes. It’s why he’s up now, leaving you curled up in the sleeping area while he paces the main part of the ship, willing his active imagination to shut up. 

He nearly starts to spiral even more, when in the distance he spots something that isn’t just another moon or an asteroid. It looks an awful lot like a planet. A planet that looks a little like Earth from this distance.

Joshua frantically surveys the navigation before giving up, knowing he can’t read what it means. 

“Star! Y/n!” He runs to the sleeping area, calling you until you groggily sit up, calling him in response.

“Joshua?”

“There’s a planet! It’s not super close but it looks a little like Earth!”

You’re up as soon as he finishes his sentence and sprinting to the cockpit to check the navigation.

“We definitely passed Galaxy 428B and the coordinates look right. Holy shit, what if that’s Lumen?!” He joins you as you continue flying towards the planet. It’s still going to take a few minutes, but you both stand there the whole time, hands tangled together as you wait for any signals that you’re close enough to possibly speak to someone on the intercom system.

The minutes feel like hours as they crawl by, the planet getting clearer and clearer as you approach. It really does look like Earth.

You grip Joshua’s hands even harder, his fingers caressing your knuckles to try and keep your nerves calm. When you’re close enough to start to see more details, you take the ship out of autopilot to steer it. Joshua rests his hand on your shoulders, watching as you press a few buttons on what you’d mentioned was the intercom system.

“Hello? We are requesting permission to land.” You speak, your words steady even though Joshua can feel how you tremble in his hold.

After a minute or so a voice comes back, asking you for your registration and the reason for your visit.

“Our registration is DA471561J. We’re travelers looking to land permanently.”

There’s a beat of silence as your hands grip the steering device, both of you waiting for a response.

“Permission to land is granted. There is a dock just East of your current location. Welcome to Lumen.”

A sob slips out of your mouth when you hear the greeting, thanking the voice. Joshua wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you change your direction, presumably to the East. 

“We made it, Star. We made it to Lumen.”

“We did,” you sniffle loudly and Joshua holds you closer. 

“I love you, Star,” he whispers. It’s not something he’s ever thought he could feel, let alone say to someone. 

And then you came into his life and made it clear that he is capable of love and most importantly, he’s in love with you.

“Joshua…I love you too,” you breathe, tears still pricking your eyes. You love him so much - the words had been hanging on your tongue for a while, but your nerves never let you say them until now. Now that you know that Joshua loves you too.

The worry that had been sitting heavy on both of your shoulders slips away at the fact that you’ve made it safely to your new home after flying for so long and that you’re both doing it with the person that you love.

You stay close to Joshua when the two of you finally land and are greeted by some of the citizens of Lumen. You don't think you’ve ever seen this many different inhabitants on one planet, not that you mind.

A few of them introduce themselves and when they ask your names, you tell them Joshua and Star. Hearing them call you both by your new, preferred names really makes this feel real. You both thank everyone nearly a hundred times, mentioning that you’re from Earth and you are hoping this is your new home.

“Oh! You’re from Earth too!” A little girl exclaims as she clings to the adult she’s with who you assume is her mom. “There’s another person here with a robot from Earth!” Her mother shushes her, but you insist it’s okay.

“Do you know where they are?” Joshua asks the mother, who nods.

“Yes, they’re living in a house that’s just outside of a town not far from here. It’s near where we live. I’ll show you.”

“Please.” Joshua looks at you, eyes full of hope and you nod back enthusiastically. You don’t want to get too excited and assume that it’s one of his former members, but there’s a chance. A small chance, but a chance nonetheless.

You and Joshua arrive at the house the mother and her child directed you to, seeing the sheer size of it. You both scan the area as you approach, noting the little garden and the lush forest behind it.

As you approach, Joshua scans the surrounding area, not seeing anyone else around. He’s about to voice his curiosity about the place when he feels your steps falter next to him. When he looks over at you, he sees your wide eyes staring straight ahead at the house. He follows your gaze, spying someone coming out of the front door, face turned up, casually glancing at the sky. At first, he doesn’t think anything of it until the man turns, glancing over as if looking right at him.

“Oh my god…Joshua, it’s -”

“Seungcheol,” he’s already noticed him, looking shell-shocked at seeing his leader - his family - again after so long.

The two of you break into a run to get to your new home and sense of familiarity. You and Joshua want this to be a new start for both of your lives and it looks like you won’t have to do it alone.

Net tag: @kflixnet

[sondheim-girly]

My submission for @outsidersweek day seven!! Heres the masterpost for this fic. I plan on editing all of it, adding a lot more, then posting it to ao3 in a few months!! Thanks again to @walmartbrandwhatever for being my beta reader!

October, 1967

Marcia

Two-Bit and his friends hadn’t been to the drive in for a while. Marcia wasn’t exactly surprised- after the tragedy from a few weeks ago why would they ever want to be around the people who caused it? So when Two-Bit and Ace finally did show up, she couldn’t help but stare. 

He was sitting on a bench a few rows ahead of where she and Trip were. Trips arm was around Marcia’s shoulder as he gazed up at the movie screen, and she did her best not to shrink away from him. It’d been getting harder and harder everyday. Physical touch used to be the only part of their relationship that consistently worked, and she now found herself just wishing she could find comfort in his arms the way she used to. She tried to bury her anger and emotion down deep the way she’d done a million times before. Look perfect, be perfect, get good grades, be happy, that’s who she had to be. So she leaned into Trip, pretending like the disgust in her gut was non-existent. 

She’d seen Two-Bit once or twice at school; the back of his head disappearing into a classroom during passing period, or maybe she’d catch a glimpse of him sitting on the hood of a car with his friends during lunch. But this was the first time since she’d sprinted out of his house a few weeks ago that she actually got to look at him.

His arm was around Ace, and they were leaning into each other and talking about something. Laughing about something. She saw a glimpse of his smile as he looked at Ace, leaning his head back to laugh and she felt her heart skip a beat. There was a time when she would have figured out an excuse to get away from Trip and flirt with that boy without anyone noticing. Now she doubted he wanted to see her ever again. But god that smile that haunted her dreams was even more gorgeous than she’d remembered. She wondered if Two-Bit was dating Ace- something that had never crossed her mind before. As Ace lay a hand on Two-Bits cheek, she couldn’t help but feel a pit of jealousy in her stomach. They must be together. But what right did Marcia have to be jealous? She was dating Trip. A boy who had jumped Two-Bit and his friends for no reason other than a twisted idea of fun. 

Two-Bit was facing Ace now- he was talking intensely about something that must’ve been funny, and when he finally reached the punchline he was sent reeling laughing over his own joke. Marcia felt her lips turn upwards despite herself as she watched his outburst. When he finally calmed down he caught her eye. They made eye contact for one charged second that felt like a million years and still not nearly long enough, until Marcia turned her face away. Towards her boyfriend. God what a state she was in.

She decided to look up at Trip. Trying to find the things about him that she used to love so much. He caught her staring, and turned towards her, leaning down to press his lips on hers. She used to love making out with him. Now all she could think about was if Two-Bit was watching, and if Two-Bit was jealous, and that the hand currently gripping her thigh was the very same hand that had hit an innocent boy just trying to get home. God she felt so sick. His hand moved up her thigh, and she wondered if it was covered in blood because why did it feel like it was covered in blood. And why was the hand tangled in her hair just seconds away from pulling it out and hurting her god if he could hurt that boy he could hurt her and if she was kissing him that meant it was fine he can beat up anyone he wants! Who is she to stop him but she has to stop him god she hates him and why is his hand covered in blood and- Marcia tore herself away, nearly shoving Trip backwards. 

“Baby what the hell- baby what’s wrong..?” He protested.

Marcia turned for a moment and saw the star shaped scar on Two-Bits' face. She couldn’t do this anymore. So she just started running- she had to get away, she had to go somewhere, anywhere. She didn’t have her car because Trip had driven her. She ran to the side of the concession stand where there was a phone booth and took a moment on the concrete curb trying to calm down her heart rate.

“Marcia? Marcia, are you ok?” She looked up to see Bev standing in front of her. Bev with a cigarette in between her fingers.

“What the hell's wrong?” Bev asked,

“I um- I feel sick” Marcia replied, not a complete lie.

“Oh poor thing, you must have gotten whatever Brill has. Do you want me to drive you home?” Bev took a drag of that damned cigarette and Marcia felt her stomach churn.

“No… I think I’ll just call my parents to pick me up.”

“Are you sure? I don’t know what kind of fight you’re in with Trip this time, but I'm just as capable of giving you a ride home.”

“Yeah. I’m ok,”

“Fine. Feel better, alright?” Bev said, patting Marcia’s shoulder before turning on her heel and trotting back to the hood of the car where she’d been sitting with Paul.

Marcia let out a breath, before shakily standing up and walking into the phone booth.

“Hello? I’d like to speak with Cher- Sherrie Valance? She’s a volunte… yes. Yes, thank you so much.” Marcia let out a breath, listening to the secretary from the hospital call for the only person Marcia knew would understand.

“Hello?” Cherry's voice was staticky through the phone line.

“Cherry…” Marcia felt the tears she’d been putting off start to prick in her eyes. She hesitated for a moment, but she knew what she had to say. She couldn’t hide from it anymore. Seeing Two-Bit again had solidified that. “I’m breaking up with Trip.” She finally admitted. There was a pause, and then Marcia continued, “I can’t do this anymore. Every time I look at my friends, and every time I touch them, the only thing I see and feel is the blood on their hands! And I just can’t do it anymore. I thought I could convince myself it was fine, I thought I could go on living that comfortable life but I just can’t. I just can’t stand this. I can’t stand it when Trip touches me with those hands that have hurt so many innocent boys I don’t even know about. I can’t listen to him talk with the voice that lied to me over and over again about where those bruises came from. I thought I could forgive him. I thought I could go on loving him because I do love him but I can’t. It’s wrong. I just can’t do it anymore. I’m sorry I didn't recognize it sooner.” 

Just by admitting all that, it felt like a great weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. Marcia couldn’t think of the last time she’d been so honest with someone, or with herself.

She heard Cherry take in a shaky breath, then ask, “Your parents are away right now, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want me to stay over tonight?”

Marcia let out a small sob. Cherry always knew what she needed. “Yeah. Yeah I’d really like that.”

“I get off work in about an hour, I’ll come over then, ok?”

“Yeah. Yeah that’s great. I- I love you.”

“I love you too. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.” Marcia said softly, before hanging up the phone. She wiped at her eyes, attempting to not mess up her makeup, before stepping out of the booth. It was only then that she realized that she still didn’t have a way home.

Two-Bit

Steve had finally arrived at the drive-in after getting off work, and of course the moment he got there he started whining to Two-Bit about wanting popcorn. So Two-Bit was handed some money, and given the job of going to the concession stand for snacks. On a normal day he might have argued, but maybe subconsciously he knew that he did want to get up. That soc who looked pretty in green (it was easier if that’s all he saw her as) had run off that way. And maybe he was a little curious. But he tried to bury those feelings, instead thinking about where he planned on going afterwards so he could get boozed up. God he should have brought a drink tonight. This place had too many memories of the last time he got to see Johnny healthy. The last time things were normal. Yes, Two-Bit thought. He just needed a drink. 

As he walked towards the concession stand he saw a girl sitting on the concrete, her shoulders shaking. Before he could think better of it, he started slowly towards her. She seemed to sense his presence, and looked up as he approached, jumping to her feet and wiping at her eyes.

“That was quite the scene you caused back there,” Two-Bit joked,

“I- uh- sorry.” Marcia said awkwardly.

“Do you just plan on sitting here for the rest of the night? I will say, the view of the movie is quite nice from this far back. And only being able to see half the screen is kind of exciting- leaves part of the story to guess work, right?”

“Right. Actually, I’m leaving now.”

“Ah. Gonna walk all the way back to the west side on foot then? Or are you gonna head back to your boyfriend and make up?”

“He’s not my- or well- he is, but he won’t be soon. I um… I don’t know why I’m telling you this. And I have no idea how I’m getting home.” Marcia admitted 

Two-Bit tried to keep a straight face. So she was finally breaking up with her asshole boyfriend. After a whole month of pretending like she’d never ditched him to help out Two-Bit, and months and months of neverending public arguments, she’d finally had enough. He looked at her for a moment. Marcia. He had tried so hard to just think of her as some soc girl who didn’t give a dime about anyone but herself, it was easier that way. But at that moment he couldn’t help but see a scared, heartbroken girl, who maybe was trying to do the right thing for once. He didn’t know why his heart reached out to hers the way it did. She was a soc, she was rich, she was popular, she had everything. He should be bitter towards her, but for some reason he just couldn’t be.

“I can give you a ride.” He offered, before he had the chance to change his mind.

“What?” 

“If you don’t mind a no good dirty greaser driving you home, I wouldn’t mind it either.”

For the first time that night, Marcia truly smiled. “Well I wouldn't mind it at all, to tell you the truth. In fact I might even be quite grateful,”

Two matched her smile. Maybe he was doing something stupid as hell, but maybe, just maybe, she was worth it. 

Marcia

Marcia’d never been in a car this beat up before. She sat there in the passenger seat trying to make herself as small as possible, staring straight ahead and doing her best not to look at the boy who was driving. Why had he offered to give her a ride home? She didn’t deserve that. Her stomach felt like a pit of snakes, she could hardly even put a thought together from anxiety. Oh if Trip could see her now he’d be screaming at the top of his lungs. And then she started thinking about Trip, and breaking up with Trip, and a life without Trip, and a whole new wave of anxiety crossed over her, and she had to close her eyes because she was scared the world might start spinning. 

When she opened them again she watched the streets of Tulsa pass by for a while, before glancing over at Two-Bit. In an instant it was like a wall had been placed in between her and the shouting voices of all of her fears and worries. Suddenly the only thing in the world was Marcia, and the boy with moonlight making his curly hair shine, and his eyes gleam. He was chewing on the side of his cheek in thought, and oh the things she would have done to place her hand on his cheek to calm him. Run her hands through his hair. Look into his eyes and- 

Marcia whipped her head around to face forwards again, her cheeks burning. God she was an idiot. Perhaps she’d had a small crush on him for a while, but sitting next to him after a night as emotional as this one, she wondered if perhaps she could feel a little bit more. And now that she was breaking up with Trip… But god but she would be ridiculed if she ever went out with a greaser. And her and Two-Bit would crash and burn before they’d even truly started! Besides, there was no way he actually liked her in any sort of a way. She just needed to get home, out of this car. She just needed to be with Cherry where they could talk, and unpack the night, and plan on when she’d break up with Trip. Another wave of nausea hit her at that. Just make it home, she reminded herself. That’s all she had to do. And then she could process.

Two-Bit

Two-Bit glanced over at the girl in the passenger seat. She was staring straight ahead of her and was stiff as a board, with a sick expression on her face. He wondered if she was grossed out by his car. He wanted to say something to her, he wasn’t used to the awkward silence that formed a chasm between them. That night they’d first talked, neither of them could be quiet for a moment. Now it seemed like saying something was the scariest thing in the world. And what could he say?? ‘Isn’t it nice weather we’ve been having lately? Oh and why did you run away sobbing after making out with your boyfriend, and is there any chance you breaking up with him has anything to do with me? Because for a reason I don’t understand, I kind of hope it does.’ Two-Bit shook his head, he’d rather just keep his mouth shut. 

He snuck another glance at Marcia, her eyes were now closed and her head was leaning back like she was fighting off nausea. The moon hit her hair and made it look all glossy, and her hands were in her lap, fidgeting with her dress. If only he could reach out and take one of those hands. Tell her it was all ok. Ask her what was on her mind and listen as she talked and poured her heart out. Oh if he could have her heart he just knew it’d be something he’d treasure for the rest of his dirty life. But god, how could he be thinking these things about a soc? A girl who would never go out with him in a million years because it would sully her gleaming reputation that she held above all else. That’s the way all socs were, why would she be any different? Because she helped him after standing by as her friends beat him to a pulp?? Just get her to her house, then he can pretend like this never even happened. 

Marcia 

Marcia felt less anxious by the time Two-Bits beat up car had arrived at her house. A part of her didn’t want to leave that car, but the rest of her was more relevied than anything. The moment the car stopped she opened the door, then took a deep breath.

“Thank you.” She said,

“Who am I to ignore a damsel in distress?”

“I was hardly in distress!” Marcia protested.

Two-Bit laughed, “Sobbing on the concrete with no way home? Now I’m no genius on definitions, but that sounds pretty close to distress to me.”

Marcia giggled, her nerves calming. “Goodnight, I…” she paused, wishing she could say something more. Give him her number, even. “Thank you.” She finally said.

“Goodnight,” he responded, and then she got out of the car, heading up towards her house, but turning around at the last moment so she could watch him speed away.

[anonymous-rendezvous]

An Unconventional Relationship

💛 Luca Kaneshiro x GN!Reader

✦ — Written by Mod S 👿. Beta Read and Edited by Mod I ✨.

✧ — Contains: Humor, strangers to friends to ???, & open ended

✦ — Word count: 3.3k+ | Ao3

Based on these prompts - "You're lucky you're cute." "Wait, you think I'm cute?"

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

The sun is just beginning to dip below the horizon as you take your usual route home after work. “Hmm, maybe I should order something for dinner…I don’t feel like cooking, plus I’m pretty sure I still have to do the dishes. Ugh, curse you past me!” You trudged your way down the street, practically sulking as you walked. This was virtually routine for you at this point: getting off work, walking home, debating about dinner, sleeping, repeat. It was a pretty average life, and you accepted it wholeheartedly; the motions and all.

Well, it had been pretty average until a fairly strange encounter happened; the monotonous routine led you to make a very unusual… friend(?) roughly half a year ago. You can still recall the night vividly; the events playing through your mind are more similar to a show than an experience that had happened to you.

You had worked overtime resulting in you leaving work much later than you normally did. The moon was already high in the sky as you attempted to rush home. That was cut short when you were suddenly pulled into an alleyway; a knife pointed right at your neck. Like any sane person, you were about to give the person all your money, until – inches from your face – you see your attacker get punched straight in the jaw. The force sent him tumbling further into the alley. Hardly having the time to process anything, you didn’t notice that the nice stranger had proceeded to pull you away, two people dressed similarly to bodyguards rushing past you towards the mugger.

“Are you okay?” With the moment of calm, you took in your savior’s form. Broad, blonde, a very expensive-looking suit and matching hat that almost hid his lavender eyes from view, and from what few words he spoke; an Australian accent.

“U–um…” You quickly collected yourself, looking down to take a deep breath before thanking the stranger. “Yes, I’m fine. Uhh, thank you for that, by the way. You sure got a punch on you.” Before you can mentally smack yourself for being so awkward, he laughs, causing you ease.

“Well, thanks! I pride myself on my good punches! Oh, but do you need a ride home? Don’t want you to get mugged for a second time tonight. Lots of unsavory characters walking around during this time.”

“Really? Well, sure, a ride would be nice! Although, in exchange, I’d like to know the name of my savior.”

He takes off his hat, and brings it to his chest, letting you see his face without obstruction. “Heh, I can’t give you my full name, but you can just call me Luca, okay?”

You accepted his generous offer, and he did, in fact, drop you off safely. Ever since then, he’d occasionally pull next to you in his very expensive-looking car to check up on you. Hell, sometimes you’d run into him on your later shifts, and every time he’d offer to take you home. In his words, “To make sure you don’t get mugged again, you know?”. Honestly, you have no clue why he cares so much about you. He dresses so expensively, his car looks like it costs more than your entire life’s savings, and he has what you assume are bodyguards. He seemed like someone very important. So why is he constantly coming back to check on your safety?

This question loops back into your brain again as you walk, so much so you don’t even notice the car that pulls next to you. It’s not until the person rolls down their window and calls, “Hey!” that you snap back to reality, head-turning quickly as they stop. You notice there are two people in the car, and they look very similar to the same bodyguards who were with Luca the night he saved you. “Heya, you're the Boss’s friend, right? He wanted us to come pick you up.”

“Pick me up?” You blink in confusion, shuffling closer to the car and leaning toward the window in order to talk clearly. “For what? I don’t remember us making plans or anything…” You rack your forgetful brain for a moment, but nothing comes up. Hell, you’d have probably made a memo on your phone about something like this.

“He made dinner plans so he could talk to you. Said something about feeling bad that he hasn’t had the time to properly talk to you.” The bodyguard has to hold back a laugh at the face you make, waving their gloved hand in front of your face to get your attention again. “He also wanted to make sure we tell you that you don’t have to come if you have prior plans.”

Shaking your head, you respond, “He’s very lucky I don’t have any plans. I’m not gonna turn down a free meal. I’ll meet up with him.” Lowering your voice to a mumble, you speak aloud to yourself, “Lucky too that I had no clue what to eat today…” With your confirmation, you hear the car unlock and, with slight hesitation, you slide into the back seat. As soon as you're all buckled in, they take off.

It’s not long before you realize the car is heading toward an area of the city that you rarely go to. Looking out the window, you watch as the car moves through the richer part of town. Fancy hotels and lights everywhere, you even pass a fountain show going on outside. When the car suddenly stops, your eyes move to the two bodyguards in the front seat, who are already getting out. You scramble to reach for the door, but before you can grab the handle, one of them has already opened the door for you.

“Don’t worry, I got it. My partner here will show you to the Boss. I gotta park the car, then I’ll be in there as well.” You give them a nod as you get out, patting yourself down to look more presentable; and to shake off your embarrassment. Looking up at the restaurant, your jaw almost drops at just the exterior. Suddenly, you feel like you might need more than just a pat down.

Now listen, you've been to some pretty nice places before. However, this part of town is way too expensive for you to even think about coming here too often. So when you take in what you know to be the most expensive restaurant in the city, your nerves start to settle in. You're brought out of your thoughts by the car starting and taking off down the road as the other guard calls to you. “Please, this way. The Boss will be super happy to see you. And don’t worry about being underdressed. I’m sure the Boss doesn’t care.”

Pouting a bit, you begin to follow them. ‘Yeah, but that doesn’t mean the other people won’t think that…’ Preparing yourself for the telltale heat of judging stares, you keep your head down as you follow the guard inside. Eyes only watching the nice red carpet and the backs of the movement of the bodyguard's brown dress shoes – preoccupying your eyes with the stitches in the leather. It’s not long before you arrive in the section where Luca is waiting, only looking up when the guard announces so. “Here we are.” You look up and take in your surroundings, eyes widening at the amount of gold detailing in the room. The lights are warm and dim to give the space a sophisticated yet cozy atmosphere. Something you take in almost immediately is that there is no one else in this section of the restaurant, the only one being the person your gaze falls onto next. As soon as Luca hears his guard talk, he sets his menu down and gives you one of the most infectious smiles that you’ve ever seen. Your lips barely refrained from smiling just as widely, settling on a small polite smile and a wave.

The blonde opens his arms in welcome from his seat, energy radiating from his voice. “I’m so glad you could make it! I was so worried you’d have other plans since this was pretty sudden on my part. Next time, I promise I’ll get your opinion on future hangouts first.” Before he puts his arms down, he beckons you to sit, the chair across from him being pulled open by the bodyguard. “Come, sit. We can order and then finally have a proper conversation.”

You take the invitation, even if you are a bit nervous about what exactly is going on. After you sit and are pushed in, thanking the guard as they make their way to stand behind Luca’s seat. Picking up the menu, you immediately try your best not to physically cringe at the prices. Flipping through the pages, you go all the way back to the appetizers – probably the only thing you can afford on the menu. Luca seems to notice, and he tilts his head, voice laced with confusion.

“Oh, are you not hungry? Hm?”

Looking up at him, you give a nervous smile. “Uhh, well, everything here is pretty out of my usual price range. The only thing here that I can really afford is a soft drink and a small appetizer…” You’re about to wave it off as fine until he puts his hand up, stopping you from continuing.

“Oh! Don’t worry about that. I invited you so I’ll be paying. It’s the least I can do for springing this on you. So order anything, I got it.” He smiles, then looks back down at the menu.

Okay, now you're really suspicious. No one this loaded just… does this. Or if they do, they have a catch. Forcing your expression to remain neutral, you decide you’ll ask when dinner arrives. Even if this is immensely suspicious, he doesn’t seem to have anything malicious planned. Although you haven’t known him long, nothing has really set off immediate red flags in your mind. He’s been super kind and if this is a kidnapping or something, he wouldn’t go through all this trouble. He’d have just done it by now – he’s had more than enough opportunities. Taking a deep breath, you settle on a meal and let him talk you into sharing a bottle of some high-class wine with him. When the server arrives to take your orders, you notice the other guard has returned from parking the car, making their way to Luca standing behind him next to the other one. You're too busy giving your order and feeling nervous about the establishment, that you don’t notice how uneasy the server is; constantly looking to the side and shifting nervously. He scurries off pretty quickly after your orders have been filled, and before you can ponder it, you’re pulled into a conversation with the blonde. 

Luca lets you talk about your life first, and you're surprised at how intently he listens. It’s not like you lived anything remarkable as he must have, but when he listens to you speak, you see the genuine spark of interest in his eyes. The wine arrives in the middle of your story, and you're about to thank the person, but they leave so quickly that you barely have time to. Maybe they saw you talking and just didn’t wanna interrupt or that could just be how the service is here. Either way, you finish talking about yourself before turning the questions back to him.

When Luca starts telling you what he does, you make sure to give him the same level of attention he gave you. He tells you how he’s the owner of a casino; explaining that they have passed it down to him through the family. Well, that explains why he looks so expensive. The bodyguards are still a bit weird to you, but you’ve heard that children of rich families tend to get kidnapped so that could be explained away. After he talks about his family business, you are actually glad he starts to talk about his hobbies and interests. The longer you talk to him, the more you realize just how down-to-earth he is. Admittedly helping you calm down as the minutes roll by.

The food gets to you just as he finishes talking about how he used to surf, and you can’t help but express how talented he seems to be. “Wow, you have so much skill under your belt. If you didn’t own the casino, you’d still be set for life.”

Luca laughs shyly, sipping at his wine. “Well, most of it my parents had me take classes for. They wanted me and my sister to be prepared, you know?” He sets his glass down and gestures to your food; changing the subject. “I hope you enjoy the food, by the way! That looks really good. I might have to get that next time I come here.”

You chuckle, picking up your utensils. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you my premium review of it after I’m done.” He laughs and follows suit in your actions. You both dig into your food, and you have to hold yourself back from letting out a noise of delight. This food was unlike anything you’ve ever had, really tasting like the high price it was. Being so engrossed by the food, you almost forget what you wanted to ask Luca, your brain circling back to the suspicions you had earlier. You wait a little while, but when you think enough time has passed, you call the blonde’s name. “Luca?” He pauses in his sentence, looking at you with concern at the seriousness of your tone. 

“Y–Yes? Is something wrong?” His lavender eyes scan over you, trying to get any hint as to what might be bothering you. 

“No! It’s nothing wrong, per se." You immediately reassure, seeing how he physically deflated. Luca perks back up, a look of anticipation on his face, encouraging you to continue, "I have an important question to ask you." He gives you a firm nod. Seeing his silverware down to give you his full attention. “Okay, this is gonna be a very uh… interesting question, but I have to ask. Is this like some sort of, uhhh, fancy dinner to win me over for favors? Like… convincing me to be your sugar baby or something?” The blonde in front of you seems to choke on a breath, one guard coming up to pat his back. Glancing at the three people in front of you, you realize there's a look of shock written across each of their faces. When Luca gets over his coughing fit, he looks back up at you, starting to chuckle, believing you're joking. He stops, however, when he takes in your serious expression – worry in your eyes – and quickly explains himself.

“No no no! This is nothing like that!” He’s a bit frantic with his tone, waving his hands in exaggeration as he speaks. “I just wanted to have a genuine conversation with you. I…” He pauses for a moment, brows furrowed as he thinks over his next words. “I’ve felt bad that I’ve never gotten to talk to you properly all those times I would pass you and say ‘Hi’.” His gaze re-meets yours across the table. “This is just a normal dinner with a friend, I promise.” 

With a sigh, you cross your arms, “You realize how…” you struggle for the right word, “odd that is right? Like, you look like you own a private island and seem very comfy in places like this.” One of your hands gestures to the lavish restaurant around you. “I’m just a regular person you saved once from getting mugged. I'm nobody. What reason would a rich person like you have to constantly come to talk to me if not for some other motive?” Honestly, you almost feel bad about the way you're interrogating him. Though this is something to be questioned, and as nice and sweet as he is, it’s still good to have a sense of caution. Especially with the wealthy. 

Luca’s silent for a minute, seeming to think over what he wants to say; eyes downcast, staring at his half-finished food. It’s only a few silent moments until his lavender eyes look back up at you, their determination shocking you. “Because you didn’t treat me like that when I helped you.” You blink for a second, confused, tilting your head as he continues to speak. “Well… how do I put this… You just seemed like a nice person who wouldn’t judge someone no matter their status, so I wanted to get to know you? I–It’s honestly nothing like a ruse or a scheme. Trust me, being in this business, many people do try to deceive me. I’m an excellent judge of character because of that, and you just seemed very kind and down-to-earth. It gave me the push to try to befriend you.”

As he speaks, you can feel warmth start to pool in your cheeks, causing you to look away, not expecting that answer. After a moment, you let out a deep breath and then turned your gaze back to him. “Well, honestly, that’s pretty surprising." You say with a light laugh. Slouching back into your seat, you continue. "I’m sure all of this is normal for you, but maybe when we hang out in the future, these places–” your hands raise to gesture around the restaurant once more– “are not really casual for people like me.” 

His eyes seem to light up a bit, a small crooked smile on his face. “So… you still wanna try to be my friend?” 

You have to hold back a giggle at how closely he resembles a puppy at this moment. Uncrossing your arms and picking up your utensils as you return to your meal. “Mhm, you're not a bad person. I can tell that you really are interested in my life, and if you did have any bad intentions, you would’ve done something by now. Plus, you’re lucky you’re cute. Hard to say no to the puppy dog eyes you’ve been giving me.”

He hears his guards snicker behind him, but chooses to ignore it as his cheeks begin to flush. “You think I’m cute?” He watches as you laugh, smiling at him as you take a bite of your food.

“Mmn, this is really good. Do you wanna try some? I can give you a bite.” Luca pouts a bit as you change the subject, but nods nonetheless. He’s happy as you converse for the rest of your meal, talking about nothing and everything. It’s refreshing for you and him, as you act like equals. Feeling like friends.

The pair of you stay for a while, but eventually, you do tell him you have to work the next day. He, of course, offers to take you home, especially since you’d both had a bit of wine. With the moon smiling in the sky as the four of you leave the restaurant, and the surrounding street was lit up by dazzling lights. The bodyguards escort you to the car, giving them your address. The trip gives the two of you a chance to continue talking. Luca couldn’t help the smile on his face, content with just listening to you speak, and this time remembering to give you his number so you could make future plans together. It wasn’t long before the car pulled up to your home. Luca, ever the gentleman, helped you out and up to your door. When you finally say goodbye and wave them all off, you feel warm, and you’re sure he shares the same sentiment.

To Luca, this experience feels like a blessing to him. To have a normal conversation – a normal friend – in his unpredictable life. And to you, this was an exciting change to your routine; being able to make such an excitable and interesting new friend. You only saw good things ahead, and you hoped that it’d continue to get better from here.

It could only get better from here. Right?

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Likes are nice and we do appreciate them. However, comments/feedback is what really motivates us to continue writing. Even just a keyboard smash or emojis are a joy to see!

We do not allow our stories to be translated or reposted/shared anywhere. The only places our stories should be found are on Ao3 or Tumblr. Nowhere else.

[saveraedae]

Late Indie Animation Day Post (A thread)

Pouring my heart out edition

Nothing new to show for myself this go around, but hi! I'm Saver! I'm making The Mark Side— a comedy about queer teens in Texas with an underlying personal story about life, mental health, & navigating friendship with a best friend who wants nothing to do with you!

My thread here is less about the series' content, but about my journey as a creator through the years, and my gameplan for it moving forward. If you wanna learn about the series itself check out this post or go to the official TMS website.

But if you've never heard of me— hi!

I'm Saver! An artist, storyteller, and animator!

A bunch of personal and sappy stuff below the cut!

I am not new to the indie animation scene by any means. Just a very small creator with a tiny reach. My journey in beginning to develop TMS as a show kicked off in 2016 when I was only 13.

During this time I made lots of little productions with TMS, most of which had pretty sub-par quality. (I was a kid with no experience after all.)

They're all still out there if you go looking for them!

But hey, I set out to make stuff and guess what? That's what I did!

In 2020, I released an animatic titled "Friend Fiction," which serves as both the pilot as well as episode 1 to the show. I was in high school during its creation and had no idea what I was doing, and it shows! But guess what? I set out to make something, and did exactly that.

Episode 2, "An In-Tents Trip" is currently in production. It will feature a huge increase in production quality, full animation, and will serve as the proof of concept for the show as a whole! (A bit messy with the proof of concept to pilot pipeline, but it's got the spirit!)

Throughout the years I've been through so many personal struggles, both related to TMS and not. There's been countless times where I felt like I was at my breaking point, or like I wasn't good enough. But I kept pushing through, because I wanted to see the show come to life.

I've spent my whole life up until recently living with undiagnosed neurodivergence and untreated mental health issues, and only a short time ago did I realize that despite all of that, I always held onto my one goal: To make a cartoon and tell a story.

Ever since I was a young child, even before TMS existed, I always knew I wanted to make cartoons. Not just any cartoons, my own cartoons. I remember being just 4 years old and daydreaming about spearheading my own production, telling my own stories and entertaining others.

A handful of indie cartoons nowadays, much like industry produced cartoons, feature full teams managing each department, as well as several to many other animators. Which is cool as hell! Who would have thought that one day animation would come to this point?

GLITCH and Spindlehorse are truly blowing my mind by what they have and continue to accomplish. It's really remarkable and satisfying to see as someone who grew up thinking the only way to get things in front of others was to give up control and sacrifice the quality.

Another handful of shows though, which The Mark Side falls under, has everything lead, animated, produced, and even more by just one person: the creator. There's people with enough passion to do what teams of hundreds do, just by themselves. Because they want to.

I one day aspire to expand its production to the likes of the aforementioned studios, but only time will tell if that goal will get met. Regardless, I'm going to keep going. My goal is to get a show made, and my eagerness to see it all in full one day is what drives me.

Does any of that sound messy? Unprofessional even?

It does!

And that's ok!

Indie is not the industry.

Indie is independence, and breaking free from the norm. Don't let anyone tell you what you can and can't do. Let your passion and love for your craft drive you

I believe the best creators write and tell stories from the heart.

Not everything will look perfect, but our love for what we do is evident in everything we create, and our eagerness for the future accomplishes more than we think. That's what indie means to me.

I've been through a lot as a creator. And I'm far from meeting my goal. But the world will be ready for what I have to offer some day, and same for whoever this thread resonates with.

Until then, let's support our colleagues and let our creations guide us.

[chidoroki]

182 Days of TPN - Day 168

Chapter 168: "Dad"

I know this is the same room Isabella & Peter were seen having their discussion in back during ch165, but to just have two plain chairs in such a large, empty room seems so extra. Regardless of that, I do like the panel of the trio here, even though they're surprised to find no one here due to the fake footage Peter fooled Vincent with that lead them there.

Dunno how all the kiddos are hearing Peter's message since the teams seem to only have one person with a communication device but whatever. Perhaps he's speaking loud enough for everyone to hear.

Although I have a hard time believing the Ratri men were able to tie up the Adam clones without a fight, I guess anyone will yield once you hold them at gunpoint. Also, the absence of Hayato in this panel is a nice hint to his role next chapter.

While the demon guards don't cause much of a problem during the rest of the story, it still would've been better if the kids killed them off instead of put them to sleep. I get that they didn't wanna kill if they didn't have to, but it would've been one less thing to worry about. Hearing about Sonju & Mujika's execution definitely adds to the stress. Not as much as their deaths could have, but we're thankful Peter was stupid enough to actually wait three days.

Along with all the citizens who drank the evil blood being killed, the Ratri clan and the higher-up demons taking control of the government, let's add the plan to assemble a ton of new Lambda farm into the mix as well. Talk about a big time panic. The premium farms don't sound so bad now huh?

Oh Vincent, you dunno these kids as well as you thought if you honestly believe they would shoot the adults in front of them. Emma, Ray, Don & Gillian couldn't manage to fire a shot at Andrew back when he held Dominic & Alicia hostage after the shelter raid. You're best bet would've been Oliver. This goes back to that old post of mine wondering who, among the kids, would be able to shoot at another human, but I still believe Ray could manage it, if only as a last resort.

The thought of Norman firing at another person was always a toss up for me though. Of course he showed no mercy towards demons during this WM phase, so even with the clear difference between demon and human, I wouldn't have been completely surprised if that cold persona of his came back with a vengeance once he heard Vincent get shot. Peter's been a thorn in Norman side ever since Lambda, so having this bastard personally hurt one of his friends just adds fuel to the fire. Norman (& Ray) did often mention taking down Isabella & Krone back during their GF days if they wanted to escape successfully, so they have level of brutality, it's just been real lowkey. Thankfully none of the children need to get blood on their hands. They've suffered enough already.

Please never say those words with your mouth. No one in this world considers you as that.

Hell yeah Oliver, let him know what's up!! I love that he, Zack & Gillian feel so strongly about the word "dad" because of the relationship they had with Lucas. The same can be said about Ayshe & her father but I can ramble more about all that next chapter.

Favorite panel/moment:

If you've been around me for a while, then you already know how damn hilarious this panel of Norman is to me.

I mean, in context, it's pretty serious, but thanks to a silly edit I've made years ago, I can't look at this panel anymore and not laugh like an idiot. So, now's the perfect time to upgrade it from a noticeable bad edit I made in the car on my phone once upon a time to something more worthy to use every time I lose my mind.

[bentasabean]

Just watched teen wolf the movie and like I just can’t with it

-For starters why is Harris alive and was he the one to have set dereks house on fire 20 years ago? I guess we’ll never know

-Also I do not like when characters come back from the dead so I don’t like the whole Allison thing and on the topic of Allison I’m so confundled. Like how was she so easily able to break free of the nogitsune’s hold on her mind although one good part of the movie was how badass she was

-Also the kitsune being able to share its power? Since when. That really confused me can’t lie. Also how come the nogitsune was able to become that ugly mole rat werewolf when it clearly said in season 3 that you couldn’t be a fox AND a wolf

-We also had the whole stydia thang which was super annoying. Like why would Lydia leave stiles just because of some dreams or maybe premonitions. And what did stiles think of this? Like are they never going to see each other ever again.

-Also Eli I loved him and his character was a great balance of stiles and derek. However who the hell was his mother because it wasn’t even mentioned at all. And I didn’t get how Eli was 15 like did everyone just leave beacon hills and immediately Derek just went and had a baby

-Malia and Parrish being a thing was so weird because it felt random and we don’t know how it ends for them on whether or not they become official. Malia just always seems to get shipped with people, there was Malia and stiles for a bit and then there was Malia and Scott which had seemed like it would last

-Also on the topic of Scott I just can’t believe he hadn’t gotten over Allison after 15 years like it’s insane. And for Scott’s sake I’d really wished he would’ve moved on and found someone new

-Also what was going on with Mellisa and Chris. We ended season 6 with them together and what seemed to be happy but suddenly in this movie they’re split and it was basically barely mentioned

-Also how was deaton able to get the nogitsune out of Chris’s head so easily? And why couldn’t he have done the same with Allison? Or even stiles in season 3A?

-Ummm also why did derek have to die because it felt unnecessary. Also by fire? Like Peter survived being set on fire so couldn’t the nogitsune have a swell

-And I know I should give some credit for the movie, and I do but a movie just felt wrong in some way. Like everything was so rushed and things happened too quickly. I wish they’d made it as like a short series (probs like 6 episodes long)

-Lastly I knew going into this movie that stiles wasn’t going to be in it and I understand he doesn’t need to have been for it to have been good. But some scenes really did feel lacklustre without stiles, like the ending on the lacrosse pitch. Because that scene felt weird, no one seemed to care that Derek had just died and it took them all too long to go and comfort Eli

-However on a good note I did like getting see everyone back together again and I loved getting to see Peter because I love him. And obvi loved to see coach as well.

Anyways I hoped you enjoyed my ramblings

Please don’t come for me if I’m wrong about anything or if you’ve got a different opinion to me. I haven’t watched teen wolf properly in a while but I still was/am an avid fan who I would think knew my facts

(Edit 1: I MISS THEO ALSO)

(Edit 2: I think everyone’s excited by just the fact that there is new content in the fandom which I am too. But I just don’t take the movie as canon. Also I say things to do with Allison in a way that probably shows she’s not my favourite character, and after season 2 I didn’t really like that much)

[frasermints]

i told my friend i was going to keep track of how i felt when starting auvelity since she's been on ketamine for a year and is thinking about switching so i think i'm just gonna make a tag

i just took my first dose. literally two minutes ago. i told myself i wasn't gonna google anything or read the insert, because i always do that and i always psych myself out or invent side effects that aren't there. i did both anyway. i found a positive study and sent it to my med student friend, and i read the insert to make sure i could take it with/out food.

apparently, it causes birth defects. severe birth defects. there is a registry of people that are on auvelity to ensure that you don't have children while on it so that the company that produces it can't get sued.

i know that, like, being mentally ill comes with life side effects or whatever. it's expensive to be mentally ill. it takes time out of your day and it fucks with your social life and it gives you a window into a different side of life that a lot of people might not understand. most of my ""normal"" friends don't respond in ways that i deem "acceptable" when i talk about mental illness. i'll talk about trauma or my symptoms or discrimination and they always approach it through a lens of injustice or solutionism when sometimes i really just want validation or empathy.

there is no empathy when it comes to chemicals. i can't have children while on auvelity. that's just a fact. i cannot get pregnant on this drug. this drug that my psychiatrist basically touted as a miracle cure. and listen, i love her, she's a little insane, i consider her a friend that also gives me drugs. but i feel like... i feel like i shouldn't have to choose.

for a long time i didn't want kids. vehemently hated the idea. rejected the notion that i'd ever change my mind. but now i can't see my life without them. maybe it's the mid twenties baby fever, maybe it's the stage the rest of the locals in my age range are at, but holy shit man. jay brain says i needed to be pregnant, like, yesterday. and to know that that's not an option? maybe anymore, maybe forever, maybe not until my reproductive organs are shot to hell?

because no one's 100% sure what testosterone does to the uterus and ovaries. especially not to the "not 100% perisex uterus and ovaries". like, i have fucked up anatomy as it is. my mom wasn't able to get pregnant for seven years after she had me. i've miscarried once already. the amount of unprotected sex i've had in my life shows that i am not an easy target to hit. but it's like... the delusion was nice to live inside of, you know? there are so many seahorse dads out there. SO many dads have given birth. i at least wanted the option ykwim?

anyway. my stomach hurts and i'm tired. gonna edit a little bit more of sincerity is scary and finish the leafs game before i go to bed. we won 7-3 against the rangers at MSG tonight but i'm replaying it anyway since i was at work

[callsignmercy]

The voicemail - Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin.

Prompt: Jake calls you to tell you he still loves you after ten years.

Words: ~2.5k

Warning: slight mention of death but nothing serious.

Note: I’m sick and I feel like shit so I wrote a shitty piece. I don’t like this and probably will edit it later but anyway here it is. Please don’t copy of repost my work. English is not my first language so apologies for the easy vocabulary and bad grammar.

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The voicemail went like this: “Hi it’s me. Uh it’s uh- it’s Jake. Seresin. I don’t know why I’m calling really… I think I just wanted to hear your voice. It’s been so long since I’ve heard it… I’m sorry we broke up. Truth is, I should never have done it. I should have known that I would never stop loving you even after all these years. But you might have moved on since then, and if you’ve found someone else I’m happy for you really. Forget I ever called, it was a mistake. We’re going on a top secret and insanely difficult mission for Top Gun in a few hours and truth be told I’m terrified. I wish we could’ve had more time together but those few high school years were worth it because you were there with me. I should have never made that stupid decision of leaving you when I got into aviation and I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me. Anyway I don’t have much time and I’ve been drinking a little so, forget I ever called. Another thing I shouldn’t have done. Anyway, bye.”

Jake Seresin, whom you haven’t talked to in about ten years after he broke up with you when he joined the navy just called you to tell you he shouldn’t have left you? What the hell is happening?

You were trying to understand what came through his mind to gather up the courage to call and confess to you after so many years, and just hours before probably dying.

No but how dare he? Seriously! You were fuming. Admitting his love for you after a decade like it was nothing while casually telling you he might never come back?

But who were you kidding really? Of course you loved him back, you never stopped thinking about him actually. Even after ten years he was still in the back of your mind. But anyhow, how dare he break your heart like that? You contemplated calling him back but decided against it. You didn’t want to ruin his mission which he said could potentially be fatal. Oh God. You couldn’t dare think about the love of your life potentially dying.

Suddenly you jumped on your feet, packed a few clothes and took your car keys and drove away. After all Miramar was only two hours away…

When you woke up in the late morning and listened to his voicemail you knew he had already left as he had called the night before but you decided to go anyway. Wait for him. Wherever.

You arrived at Miramar in the late afternoon and stopped at a navy bar to get something to drink.

“Hi, what can I get you hun?” The bartender said. “A coke please.” You replied. “I’m Penny by the way. Did you come for the holidays?” “Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N. Actually it’s a spontaneous and maybe incredibly stupid decision that I took about two hours ago for someone that will probably never show up here.”

Penny seemed confused. “What do you mean?” She asked. “An old boyfriend of mine, like ten years old boyfriend called yesterday to tell me he regrets breaking up with me and also casually said that he was going on a mission that he could probably never come back from. He’s a pilot for the navy by the way. And so I don't know why I decided to come here to see him even though I know they’ve already left.” “Yes they left this morning.” She replied and your head shot up to look at her. She had a sad smile on her face. “I rekindled with an old boyfriend of mine too that flies for Top Gun and so he told me he might not come back. They left this morning.” She explains.

“And how do you manage something like that? What do you do?” You ask. “The best thing is hope. You know Top Gun pilots are the best in the world, you just have to trust that they’ll succeed and come back to you.” “And what if he doesn’t? What if he never knows that I came here for him, that I still love him?” Tears were slowly making their way up but you fought them, not wanting to appear vulnerable in front of a total stranger. “Who is it you’re waiting for?” “Jake Seresin. You know him?” She smiles. “Yeah I know him, he’s cocky but he’s a nice guy and I’m sure he’ll come back, especially if he didn’t get an answer back from you, I swear he’ll come back to get it.” You laugh at her answer. “Do you know how long they’ll be gone?” “No idea, Pete didn’t tell me. But I’m sure they’ll come here as soon as they come back stateside.” “Can you recommend a place to stay while waiting for them?” “You’re going to stay in Miramar?”

“Well I can’t possibly go back home and come back here every single day.” “You’re right. Well, there’s a motel not far from here if you want, or if you’d like you could help me here a few hours a day and in exchange you could sleep on my couch. Your pick.” “Well, It would sure occupy my days to work a little, rather than hoping and stressing all day.” “Then it’s settled, you’ll start tomorrow.” She smiles and you smile back.

“So tell me about you and Hangman.” Penny asks the next day as you were working together. “Hangman?” You replied. “Jake. Hangman is his callsign, they get one when they become pilots.” “Why Hangman?” “I don’t know, you’ll have to ask him I guess.” “Sure. Well Jake and I used to date in high school, we met when we were both freshman and dated until after we graduated but he broke up with me when he signed up for the navy.” “Why?” “He said he was leaving for a long time, that he didn’t think a long distance relationship would work. I cried for days.” “I can understand. Pete and I were just hooking up from time to time back then but when he came back a couple of weeks ago I felt things I hadn’t felt in a long time. It took a while for me to let him back in but now we’re happy and I can’t wait for him to come back.” “ I’m genuinely happy for you Penny.” “Don’t worry, Jake will be really happy to see you too I’m sure.” “I can only hope so.”

After a few days, Penny decided that she wanted to go on a little holiday with her daughter Amelia and left you in charge of the bar. The night wasn’t really busy so you handled things well, serving up patrons and cleaning up tables, hoping yet again to see a certain man come through the doors of the bar.

“So you’re telling me that you left your high school sweetheart a voicemail saying that you still love her and you should never have broken up with her and in the same sentence telling her she can forget about you ‘cause you’ll certainly die?” “Yes Phoenix, for the hundredth time, I did it and I don’t know why I did it.” That voice sounded rather familiar to you and you froze on the spot, not believing your ears. “Well Hangman, let me tell you yet again how stupid you are.” “Thank you Phoenix I think I’ve heard it enough. I’ll probably never see her again anyway so you can stop talking about it now.” Jake sighs and they all head for the pool table. You watch as Jake walks, talking with the woman named Phoenix, still not believing that it was really him in front of you after so many years.

“I’ll get the first round.” Phoenix says. “Hi, what can I get you?” You ask her. “I’ll get seven beers please. Are you new? I’ve never seen you here before.” “Yeah, I started working here a few days ago. I’m Y/N by the way.” “Natasha, pleasure to meet you Y/N.” You smiled and handed her the beer and started a tab for her.

“Well Jake, if you want to forget all about your stupidity and the high school sweetheart you’ll never see again, there’s a new cute bartender, I’m sure your southern charms will work wonders on her.” “No thanks Phoenix. I’m still going to wait for an answer from Y/N and if she doesn’t I’m going to call her while being drunk again and demand that she answer me.” He replies ironically. Phoenix tilted her head when she heard you name come out of Jake’s mouth. “Well the girl at the bar said her name was Y/N so you might want to check if that’s your Y/N first.” Jake frowned and looked at the bar only to see you, serving drinks to the men on the other side of the bar. His face dropped and his heart skipped a beat at the sight of you after so many years, looking more beautiful than ever.

Phoenix bit her lip in excitement seeing Jake’s face and understanding what it meant. “Oh I love seeing love happen.” She whispers to her wizzo next to her.

Jake didn’t know how to react to seeing you after so long. He might have frozen for a few minutes before Rooster gave him a slight push to force him to go to the bar and talk to you.

He gave the pool stick to Rooster before walking awkwardly toward you. He gets to the bar as you turn around and you stop right then and there.

“You came.” Jake said matter-of-factly. You shrug. “You called.” You replied.

“What are you doing working here? Where’s Penny?” He asks, still not looking away from your eyes. “It’s a long story. How did you avoid death?” You ask. “It’s a long story.” He replies.

“Did you really come here for me?” He asked, hopeful. “I’m waiting for an actual explanation. For why you called me after ten long years to tell me you should never have broken up with me and why you scared the shit out of me by telling me you were probably going to die.” “I’m sorry I did. I just realised that it was the right thing to do, to tell you how I felt and hopefully you’ll feel the same.” “After ten years?” “Yeah well, I never stopped loving you, never stopped thinking about you, never stopped hoping we’ll meet again and nothing happened so I decided to take the matter into my own hands and call you to tell you everything.”

You looked at Jake for a few seconds before being called up at the other end of the bar to serve some people. You think about what Jake just said to you while doing your job. After a few minutes you wipe the bartop and sigh before turning back toward Jake, still a hopeful look on his face looking at you.

“Look I think about you all the time, I’ve got a photo of us constantly in my flight suit and in my cockpit. I constantly think of you when I’m up there. I don’t want to leave this world without knowing what you really feel. That's what keeps me from dying and helps me come back every time. I’ve never stopped loving you and if you want to take me back I swear I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you.” “I’ve waited ten years for you to come back, Jake. I’m not going to let you go again.” You say with tears in your eyes. “God I love you so much baby. I’ll do this right I promise. I’ll take you on dates and tell you how much I love you for the rest of our lives and I’ll marry you baby. Right here and there.” You chuckled. “Just shut up and kiss me Seresin.” He smiles from ear to ear and leans in to kiss you tenderly.

The voicemail went like this: “Hi baby. Today is the day and I can’t wait to marry you. I’m so thankful you came back into my life and I’m so thankful you put up with my shit for so long. I love you so much and I’m sure there’s still so many things waiting for us. I love you forever baby.”

You smiled while listening to your fiance/soon-to-be-husband’s voicemail.

Jake had made a habit to leave you voicemails for key moments in your life for you to save and still hear his voice whenever he left for a mission.

“Thanks for our first date. I really had fun with you tonight. Thank you for agreeing to take me back, thank you for still loving me even though I was a total dick with you ten years ago. I can’t wait for all the things we’ll do together.”

“Hi babe. Today you agreed to be my girlfriend again after all these years and I thank God everyday for you. I swear I never thought I’d see you again and even less that you’ll agree to take me back. Anyway, I love you. That’s all I wanted to say.”

“Today we moved into our first house together. Our very own home. Everywhere you are is home for me anyway but being able to wake up next to you every morning will be heaven on earth for me. I can’t wait to decorate it all with you. I love you baby.”

“Jake why are you calling me? Just leave it baby I’m leaving you a voicemail. Oh it’s already on, okay. Hi baby. I’m whispering because you’re in the other room and I don’t want to spoil the surprise for you. I’m about to ask you to marry me. After all, we've been together a while. Plus four years if you add our high school years together. Anyway, I love you so much I hope you’ll say yes. And then we’ll have a beach front wedding like you’ve always dreamed of. I love you so much I could marry you with paper rings but for you I gave it all and I hope you’ll like the diamond better. I can’t wait to put it on your finger. I love you baby.”

You were about to marry the love of your life. In about an hour you were going to call him your husband. And the truth is, you couldn’t wait. But you had one more thing to do before saying yes.

“Hi Jake. For the first time I’ll be the one leaving you a voicemail. You leave me voicemails for me to listen to whenever you’re away from me and I thought I should do it too because a photo of us in your cockpit doesn’t really do the job does it? Well here I am. And I’ve got something to tell you. Soon, I won’t be the only one you’re going to call baby. I checked this morning and I’m pregnant, Jake. You’re going to be a dad. I hope it’ll make you happy. I love you Jake. Forever. I can’t wait to say yes and spend my life with you baby.”

[dawnagustd]

bad habits || myg

◈ Part of the Resolution Revolution Collab hosted by @jimilter​ & @knjsnoona​ .

↳ AU/character trope: exes to lovers; college student traveling home

Prompt: “Where was this love when I spent nights wondering where you were? When all I could do was doubt myself and wonder where I went wrong?”

pairing: f*ckboy!yoongi x f*ckgirl!reader genre/au/rating: angst, fluff, smut, exes to lovers, exes with benefits, 18+ summary: You and Yoongi ended your relationship three years ago. However, neither of you can ever seem to resist the urge of sneaking off and screwing each other until the sun comes up. Your friends beg you to stop seeing him, knowing he isn’t good for you. But how can you stay away when you see him at a New Year's Eve party, looking hotter than ever? There’s nothing to worry about; you know exactly how to play his game. Or so you thought. warnings: mentions divorce, legal alcohol consumption, sexual tension, mentions hookups, mentions financial hardship, toxic relationships, mentions breakups, mentions long distance relationships, trust issues, unprotected sex, choking/breath play, impact play(slapping), clit stimulation, dom!yoongi/sub!reader, teasing, breast and nipple play, groping, dirty talk, name calling, rough sex, hate/angry sex, degradation, light spit play, begging, wrist pinning, hair pulling, biting, scratching, marking, orgasm control/forced orgasms, cum play and eating, pull out method, brief aftercare a/n: sorry this took forever, i had to post it from my phone! i hope you like it, and i’ll edit it when i wake up. thanks Ash and Amelia for hosting this collab. And thank you Beezy @hobeemin​ for beta reading a apart of this for me. word count: 6.3k

↳ teaser - masterlist - official taglist form(no emails collected; dm to be removed)

It has been a long year.

The only thing you can say you’ve conquered is another milestone in college—but barely. Your grades were exceptional as always, but you struggled to keep them that way. It’s like your mind was somewhere else.

There’s no sense in crying over it now, though. All you can do is hope that next year will be better for you. Although it already isn’t looking so good because your parents announced their plans to divorce the minute you stepped through the front door.

You’re hurt, that’s for sure, but you aren’t going to worry about that stuff tonight. It’s New Year’s Eve, and the party is thriving. It’s a time to celebrate—another year on the horizon and your friend Taehyung’s birthday. He turned 26 yesterday, and he’s ready to turn up and have a good time.

You’ve known Taehyung and his friends since high school, and they’ve always worked hard. But they party harder. These house parties are always wild as hell, especially after everyone’s trashed. Although, you plan on being long gone before that. There are other things you rather be doing.

“Yoongi might as well be fucking you in the middle of this party. He cannot take his eyes off of you, girl.”

Hearing your best friend’s voice reminds you that you’re supposed to be hooking her up with someone, not teasing your ex, who’s sitting across the room. You broke up with the man three years ago before leaving for college, but every time you’re home for break, you always end up in his bed.

But not tonight; you promised your friends you wouldn’t give in and fuck the guy who leaves your mind a jumbled mess every time. And you have no intentions of fucking Yoongi tonight, no matter how good he looks in that headband, his hair pushed back to expose his forehead. That doesn’t mean you can’t flirt a little bit, though—remind him of what he used to be his.

“Well damn, girl. No wonder he’s staring; you’re giving him a full show. Are you even wearing panties?”

You can tell by the sound of her voice that she’s scared of what answer she’ll receive. So you smirk and brush some hair behind her shoulder before you respond, just to mess with her.

“Of course, I am. They’re his favorite color too.”

“That’s too much. I did not need to know that.” She rolls her eyes before she turns away and folds her arms, pretending to be offended by your boldness.

You can’t help but laugh at her behavior; the poor girl needs to get laid. It’s been ages since she had someone in her life, and you know she’s too busy with work for anything serious. But a decent fuck sure wouldn’t hurt.

“I’m sorry, babe. Tonight is about you, okay. Do you see anyone worth your time? Let me know, and I’ll go break the ice for you.”

You love your bestie, and you’ve been friends since you were little. She was never as privileged as you, and her parents didn’t have the income to send her to college. The girl’s had it rough, so she deserves to have some fun.

“I’m not dealing with your shit tonight. Plus, you’re on your third drink. You said once you get to three, take you home because the fourth will make you horny, and we all know what will happen when you get in the mood.” Your other friends cheer in agreement, and now it’s your turn to roll your eyes.

“Seriously! I don’t want to wake up to the whole ‘I hate Yoongi because he’s an asshole’ rant in the morning after he opens those old wounds. I’m going to go find Hoseok so he can give us a ride home before you two collide and cause another catastrophe.”

She gets up and walks off without another word, leaving you with your mouth open. Sure, you and Yoongi have a habit of sneaking off to have rough sex, and that usually ends with an argument, but it isn’t that bad. You’ve only cried maybe five(six) times in total. It isn’t your fault the best dick is attached to the biggest asshole in the city.

None of it matters anyway; you aren’t going to sleep with him again.

10:52 pm Asshole: teasing tonight, aren’t we?

You look in his direction and mouth the words “fuck you,” but of course, that doesn’t stop Yoongi from trying.

10:52 pm Asshole: you should put in a little more effort if that’s what you wanna do. my dick is still hard.

10:53 pm Asshole: and you don’t have to reply. just know you’re coming with me once I’m done with my drink

“Someone’s about to get some dick.” Jimin’s voice startles you, and you nearly spring out of your seat. You weren’t even aware that he had sat beside you at some point.

“Shit! Can you at least tap me on the shoulder before you do that? I almost spilled alcohol all over myself,” you hiss at him.

Jimin is drunk, to say the least, and he’s known to say something out of line when he’s this far gone. It’s best to keep the conversation light with him.

“You sure that’s the reason you almost dropped your drink? Was it not because you were thinking about choking on Yoongi’s big fat—oww!”

Too late.

A slap to the chest ends his drunken teasing before he can finish, but the damage is already done. Even though the music is loud, Yoongi still picks up on what his friend is saying. You know this because of the small arrogant grin that spreads across his face.

“Jimin, I swear someone needs to put a damn leash on you.”

“On him?” Hana chimes in. “Honey, you’re the one who needs to be tethered. No matter how many times we tell you to stay put, you always end up in the wrong damn yard.”

“Or the wrong bedroom,” Jimin adds.

You can’t believe they’re talking about you like you aren’t sitting right here. Neither of them has room to talk. They’ve been fucking around with each other since high school.

“First of all, ouch. Secondly, how can either of you have something to say about me? I’m surprised there isn’t a condom shortage here because of you two.”

“Because we aren’t exes, and our relationship isn’t toxic. You and Yoongi may as well come with hazard signs because just looking at you both in the same room feels like being exposed to something awful.”

Hana’s comment has everyone in your group laughing, but it grows silent when Yoongi suddenly gets up and begins walking towards you. He nods at everyone, acknowledging their presence but doesn’t stop to chat.

“Come.”

That’s all he says as he passes by. He doesn’t say who he’s speaking to nor where he’s going, but you don’t need an explanation. You already know what he wants and who he’s talking to, and it only takes seconds for the excitement to creep to the surface.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you lie, already getting up before Yoongi even ascends the stairs.

However, before you can depart, Hana grabs your arm.

“What are you doing?” she whispers through her teeth.

“Don’t start. I’m just going to pee before I leave.” Your friend doesn’t buy it, so she presses harder.

“You and I both know that’s a lie. Hoseok is going to take you home before you two can rip each other apart. You promised you wouldn’t do this.”

Giving her a small smile, you gently pull away. You turn and wink at Jimin, and mischief dances across his face.

“Jimin, it’s past Hana’s bedtime. Don’t you think so?”

He jumps up immediately, agreeing and throwing your friend over his shoulder in the blink of an eye. She squeals, but she doesn’t protest at all. They’ll both fall asleep before anything happens; they’re lightweights, and once they lie down, the night is over. Unfortunately, you don’t have time to watch the lovers walk off into the sunset. You have to handle some important business before your best friend finds Hoseok.

You make your way through the crowd, and after several excuse me’s and apologies, you finally reach the stairs. Your heart races with each step you take because it’s been so long since you’ve seen him last.

You know you’ll argue with him eventually, but you don’t want to think about that now. You want him. Despite your anger towards him, you want his hands all over your body. You just want to feel him again, even if it’s for the last time.

You find his room with much ease, and you knock three times like he’s always requested. After hearing the lock click, you turn the knob and step inside quickly before someone can spot you. A breath escapes you when you shut the door, relieved to have finally escaped your friends. You’ll have to deal with them, eventually.

It’s so dark, even with the curtains open and the city lights shining inside. You can’t see anything, not even him.

“Yoongi?” You whisper his name, but he doesn’t answer, leaving you to assume he’s in the bathroom.

You shrug off your jacket and toss it on his chair before you begin your nosey wandering. All of his stuff is in the same spot as a few months ago. This bachelor pad is used for parties mostly, but Yoongi always brings you up here so you two can fuck without anyone bothering you.

Just as you’re reaching for the high school yearbook on his desk, someone speaks directly into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Looking for me?”

Before you can respond, he spins you around and tilts your head upward so you can look at him. Your view is much better from this spot, and Yoongi’s face is only inches away from yours. He looked so good sitting across from you downstairs, but now that he’s this close, you’re stunned by how much his appearance has changed over a few months. God, he’s hot.

“You miss me?” Yoongi definitely knows how to ruin a moment.

“You would fucking wish.”

The smile on your face is a contrast to the stern look he gives you, but the thought of flustering him is pure satisfaction. “That’s the wrong answer,” he growls.

“Then which is the right?”

“Do you really want to find out?” Yoongi raises a brow expectantly, waiting for an answer. One that you don’t plan on giving due to his cockiness.

You stare at each other for what seems like an eternity, waiting for the other to make a move. However, Yoongi is the one to break the silence.

“Come here.” He pulls you closer by wrapping his arm around you and grabbing your ass. Your hands instinctively find his shoulders to balance yourself while he roughly gropes you.

“Yoongi,” you gasp when his cold fingers travel under your skirt.

“Do you ever shut up?” He mutters those words right before he kisses your lips. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he missed you by the way his tongue is so quick to invade your crevice.

His hands begin to wander and explore, enticing moans from the depths of your throat. You can feel his erection pressing against your stomach, and it fills you with anticipation.

You pull him closer, deepening the kiss so you can selfishly savor his taste. This is so wrong, so bad for you, but it feels so right. You shouldn’t be anywhere near the man but breaking the rules is your specialty. As long as you don’t fall in too deep, you should be fine. That’s what you tell yourself.

When he pulls away to attack the skin of your neck, a smile spreads on your face. There are about fifty guys at that party, but only one can get it right. Yoongi knows where to kiss, how to touch, and when to fucking do it. Why waste your time with a random hookup?

No one’s going to make it feel as good as he can.

“Let me get you in my bed first. Then, you can get loud.” Yoongi lifts your leg and wraps it around his waist before he picks you up, prompting you to bring your arms around his neck and cling tightly.

He spins around and walks you over the bed before tossing you on top of it. The force from the impact makes you squeak, and he, of course, finds it funny. The low chuckle that emits in the darkness is a tell-tale sign of his amusement.

“You’re such a dick,” you scoff as he’s removing your shoes.

You push yourself further into the bed while he takes off his hoodie and tee shirt. The simple action seems like it’s taking forever when you’re horny.

“Does it look like I care?”

Yoongi’s on top of you before you can blink, and his lips quickly resume where they left off.

His hands skillfully begin to remove your tights while he continues to leave you breathless with wet hot kisses. When the fabric reaches your calves, he separates momentarily to pull them from your ankles. Then he’s back on you like he never left.

Now that you’re nearly bare beneath him, you take advantage of the friction you feel due to the cotton material of his sweats. You’re glad he’s shirtless, and you can run your hands over the smooth skin of his shoulders. It never takes a long time for things to get heated between you, so clothes are shed pretty quickly.

“Yoongi.”

He hums at the sound of his name but never quits leaving his trail of sloppy kisses down your neck to the valley of your breast. Your low-cut top doesn’t cover much skin, but it’s not exposing enough for him.

“I need this off,” he growls and rips your blouse without a care, leaving you bewildered by his sudden aggressiveness. “Fuck. No bra?”

“Why did you—”

You try to examine your shirt for missing buttons, but he swiftly pins your hands above your head.

“Keep your hands out of my way, understand.”

You can only nod, your mouth open partially as your stomach flips with adrenaline. Yoongi’s always wild in bed but never like this. He really isn’t fucking around tonight.

“Oh my god.” Your eyes roll back when he leans in and wraps his lips around your nipple, the sensation traveling straight to your center.

Yoongi doesn’t leave the other unattended either; he gropes your mound while his mouth attacks the other. The sounds of him suckling your nipples as he alternates between breasts are so dirty and lewd that it should be embarrassing, but your mind is too gone to care.

When Yoongi pulls off your sensitive bud, your body shivers from the cool air on your wet skin. His tongue quickly laps up the string of saliva left between his lips and your abandoned nipple before he nibbles on it gently.

“Feels good, huh?” Your hands run through his hair, pulling him closer to your face. “But I’m a dick,” he chuckles, kissing your lips again while he searches for something.

You can see him reaching for his nightstand out of your peripheral, probably looking for condoms. When he finds the box, he shakes it a few times. However, nothing comes out, and he groans before pulling away slightly. He searches each drawer while you lie there waiting, but it’s proven to be unsuccessful.

“Hey,” he calls, grabbing your face so you can look at him. “Where have you been?”

His eyes narrow, sifting through your expression as if he’d have a reason not to trust you.

“Not far,” you reply. But when he raises an eyebrow, you assure him that he’s got nothing to worry about. “It’s okay, Yoongi. I’m good. I haven’t been with anyone.”

“Hm, I know that’s a lie, but if you say so.”

“Yoongi, don’t start. Can’t you just fuck me before you end up pissing me off?” Your attitude gets you nowhere with your ex, and he squeezes your cheeks to remind you of who’s in charge.

“I think it’s you who needs to be worried about pissing me off, yeah?”

He lets your face go, then pushes his sweats and boxers down to his thighs, revealing his hard oozing cock. The urge to lick the precum leaking from his tip is so intense your body begins to lift off the bed, but Yoongi is quick to pin you down again.

“Easy, slut. You’re only getting one of your holes filled tonight.”

Your mouth snaps shut. No one gets on your nerves more but gets you off within record speed. He knows it, and he’s cocky about it too.

“Fine,” you mumble. Yoongi finally reaches down and begins peeling off your panties, and you raise your hips so he can pull them off.

“I thought you’d see things my way.”

The fabric gets tossed somewhere behind him before he wraps his large veiny hands around his dick.

He inches closer, and when Yoongi’s cock finally touches your pussy, you’re already arching your back and attempting to feel some relief. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, but his touch only heats you up more.

“Yoongi.” You don’t even recognize your voice. It’s raspy and needy, like you’ve been deprived of water for days. The thirst is real, and only Yoongi can provide the source you need to satisfy your desire. “Please, hurry.”

“I like that. Beg for it, slut. Tell me what you want.” He teases your clit by drawing circles with the hard tip of his cock, only earning more pleading from you while he does so.

“Yoongi, please. We don’t have time to drag it out like this. I have to—”

“I SAID BEG.” His hand wraps around your throat, and all sense of time disappears. You are no longer concerned about getting out of there before your friend comes looking for you.

If Yoongi wants you to beg…

“Please, fuck me,” you whisper, desperate to feel him inside of you. But he only squeezes your neck, robbing you of oxygen then slowly releasing the pressure.

He stares into your soul as he peers down at you through his lids. The moon and city lights illuminate his skin even in the heavy darkness of his room. He doesn’t look pleased, angry by your response, and you’d be lying if you say it didn’t turn you on.

“Louder.”

You take in a breath then give him a response. This time your voice is elevated, and you pray the music from the party drowns out your cries because you still have to walk out of here tonight.

“Fuck me, Yoongi. I want you to fuck me.” He moves his dick to your entrances and pushes slightly, probing your hole as if he’s about to enter. Unfortunately, he doesn’t. “Please.”

“Say it again. Louder this time, slut.” Yoongi’s teeth are gritted like he’s lost all his patience, and as much as this side of him excites you, you’re also frustrated and ready to get this going.

“Yoongi, please fuck me! Fuck my pussy until I–ahh–oh my god!”

Your rambling is cut short when he finally sinks into your wetness in one smooth motion. Your arousal grants him an easy entrance, but his size still leaves you gasping for air. Just when you get comfortable and adjust to him being this deep inside of you, he pulls out and slaps your clit with his thick cock.

You scream his name, followed by a lineup of curses and insults, clearly upset with his torturing.

“Shut up,” he grunts, letting go of your throat to slap your cheek a few times. “You’re a tough girl; you can handle it.”

“Fuck you!...ohh. Shit!”

 He thrusts inside of you again without warning, and your head slams into the headboard. “Nahh, I’m fucking you.”

He chuckles and slowly rolls his hips against yours, making sure you feel him in your guts. He leans over you, and you try to wrap your arms around him, but he only pins you down.

“Who says you’re allowed to touch me?”

He slams into you with each syllable, leaving you a breathless, moaning mess. You don’t know why he’s being so mean, but it’s sending you closer and closer to your release.

“Yoongi.”

You can feel him smiling against your skin every time you call his name. It’s the only thing you can do right for him, so you repeat it over and over, until he’s pounding you into the mattress like you’re his favorite toy.

“I want to hear you scream it, slut. Come on, let me hear it.”

Your nails are digging into your palm. Your eyes squeeze shut in an attempt to hold back your orgasm. There’s no way you’re going to come already. He’s barely fucked you for a full three minutes, and you’re ready to tap.

But stalling gets you in bigger trouble with Yoongi because if he wants something, he wants it immediately. He grabs a fist full of your hair and tilts your head to expose your neck.

“Don’t forget I can make you scream if I want to. Watch this.”

His lips and teeth begin attacking your neck, surely leaving his marks behind for you to find in the morning. He laughs while you squirm and whine, trying to fight back the pleasure he’s giving you. “You couldn’t get enough of this if you tried. Look at you, so desperate to come already.”

No matter how much you resist the urge to release fights back harder, and soon you’re unable to hold yourself together. Your body shakes and trembles, and tears threaten to spill, but still, you refuse to let go.

“No, I’m not.” You don’t even believe yourself when you hear the neediness in your own voice, and it gives Yoongi another reason to mock you.

“Are you sure? Because you’re squeezing the hell out of my cock.” His thrusts become quicker but still powerful and deep, fulfilling all the needs your body craves. “God damn, this pussy feels so good,” he comments.

Satisfied with what he’s done, he finally abandoned your neck, leaving a trail of wetness behind from his sloppy kisses. You’re barely hanging on, and he shows you no mercy.

“Look at me,” he requests, but you ignore him. You try to focus on anything but the way he touches you or the feeling of his dick ramming into you. However, Yoongi isn’t letting up. “I said look at me, you whore.”

Your eyes snap open when he uses that tone, and you’re met with Yoongi’s fucked out expression. He looks so good, and you wish that this was your view each time you’re in this position. Your campus is filled with hot guys, but none of them could ever compare to the man who’s currently fucking you senseless. He’s the only person who can.

“You’re going to come for me,” he tells you, and you immediately shake your head.

“Not yet, Yoongi. Please.”

He grabs your face again, this time more aggressively.

“Yes, you are. You’re going to come all over my dick when I tell you to. Otherwise, I’ll stop and end this now.” With the dominance lingering behind his words, your body reacts without much thought, and you’re already nodding your head in agreement.

“Okay.” Hearing your whimper in defeat only fuels his ego. There’s a smile on his face that you’d slap off if he weren’t balls deep inside of you right now. “You’re an asshole, you know?”

He does the unexpected and nuzzles himself against you. Yoongi’s nose and lips press against your skin, and he mumbles as his hips continue to snap into yours.

“No, I just really like making you feel good.” His moans begin to fill your ear in the softest tone he’s spoken to you all night. Your hands can finally access his body, and his skin feels so hot beneath your touch. Everything about being surrounded by him pushes you towards your orgasm, and just when you think you can no longer handle it, Yoongi comes through. “Come, baby. Let me feel you.”

And you do. Your body instantly reacts to his command, no longer bothering to listen to what your mind is telling you. You wanted to hold on longer, but letting go sounds a whole lot better.

Screams of his name fill the room as the wave washes over you, and you’re sure the people on this floor can hear you. The music is still loud, but so are your cries of pleasure, and Yoongi doesn’t even try to conceal them. He keeps going, fucking you through your release until you’re trembling beneath him.

“Fuck!” Yoongi quickly pulls out of you and his hand swiftly rubs his cock until his sticky warm cum is being squirted onto your stomach.

Your cunt is still throbbing, and your clit is beyond sensitivity, but you can’t stop yourself from reaching down and mixing your arousals, only to pop the same fingers in your mouth. “Good girl,” he whispers.

Yoongi then leans over and grabs his shirt off the floor so he can wipe away whatever is left.

Not a word is said between you, and after he’s done cleaning you up, you get off the bed and quickly begin gathering your discarded clothes. Once you’ve collected everything, you turn to him to speak since you expect him to be gone when you’re done in the bathroom.

“This was the last time, Yoongi.”

You try to sound confident, like you really mean it, but your voice betrays you. The tension is so thick it can be sliced with a knife. It never fails. No matter how often you do this, the aftermath always makes a greater impact than the amazing sex. You try to retreat to the bathroom, but his words stop you before you can turn the knob.

“It sure was, babe.”

You turn around and find him lying on the bed, his back against the headboard as he watches your movements.

“W-What?–What do you mean?” you ask him, forcing out a small laugh, but you sound more nervous than you intended.

Yoongi’s response is always some smart remark like “yeah, I’ll see you around,” but he’s never agreed with you whenever you speak on not hooking up again. His reaction was odd, and you don’t like the seriousness in his tone when he said it.

“It means, for once, you’re right. You’ll probably never see me again.” He casually pulls out his phone and starts scrolling through it as if he just mentioned it’s going to rain tomorrow.

You walk over to the bed and sit on the edge, shifting so you can search his face for any humor. There isn’t a hint of a smile detected, which only adds to your uneasiness.

“Yoongi, I–”

“They’re asking if you’re with me. You should go,” he interrupts.

“Why are you being dismissive?” You decide to push the subject more, a gut feeling telling you that you shouldn’t leave it alone—even if it’ll start an argument.

Yoongi gives you an annoyed sigh and then drops his phone on the bed.

“I’m not; I’m just not in the mood for this. I have a lot of shit to do tomorrow. Now, get out.”

Your clothes are once again on the floor, and you maneuver your body so that you’re facing him completely.

“You can’t just put me out!”

He mutters to himself, something along the lines of “the hell if I can’t,” but it doesn’t make you ease up one bit.

“So that’s what I am to you now? Just a random girl you throw out once you’re done fucking me? Yoongi, you’re so full of shit.”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?” he chuckles, looking towards the window. You know Yoongi like the back of your hands. He’s avoiding eye contact for a reason.

Your breakup wasn’t an easy one, and Yoongi shut you out every time you’ve brought it up in the past. But you aren’t sure what he means by that comment because he never wanted to hear your explanation for why you broke up with him.

“Yoongi?” you call his name, and he finally looks at you but with an unreadable expression. It’s hard to know what Yoongi’s thinking these days. An iron wall was built the day you said it’s over, and you know it’s probably never coming down. “Yoongi, I will leave. Trust me, I don’t want to spend another second with your grumpy ass, but at least tell me what’s going on. Are you leaving town or something?”

You giggle after that question. It was more of a joke than anything. The thought of Yoongi leaving his life here behind is unimaginable. He loves his job more than anything, even you.

“I am, actually.”

For the first time since you got here, everything is silent. The only sound you hear is the sound of your blood pumping through your body. Even time seems to stop at this moment, and his words keep playing over and over in your head.

“God, you’re serious. W-Wha–When, Yoongi?” A sinking feeling takes over you as you wait for his answer, and the longer he doesn’t speak, the worse it gets. “Yoongi,” you press.

“I leave on Monday. I’m going back home,” he says finally.

Your hand immediately covers your heart. As if finding out your parents were divorcing today isn’t hard enough, this definitely was a punch in the gut.

“So you’re leaving the country? What about your job? Do they know? And were you even going to tell me?”

You’re hurt, it’s obvious. Tears roll down your cheeks before you can stop them. You don’t even know why, but suddenly the thought of never seeing Yoongi again breaks your heart. This isn’t what you want. You don’t know what you were expecting for the official ending of you two, but it sure as hell wasn’t this.

“Yeah, I told them when I gave my notice of departure. They knew when I started working there that producing music was my thing, so it wasn’t a surprise when I told them I got offered a position.” He continues to shrug his shoulders as if he just doesn’t care, and that’s when you finally crack.

“So just like that, huh? You’ve decided. How long have you been planning this? How long have you known you were going to leave?” Your face is burning hot; red is all you can see. Anger isn’t even the word to use for your emotions right now. They’re all over the place, but you’re heated above all. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Your sob is so broken; you hate yourself for even speaking.

“I’ve known for a while, but wait a second. Don’t fucking act like you’re so hurt. Like you care about me.” He scowls at you like he’s disgusted by your reaction, but you cannot understand why.

How could you not care? You never turned your feelings for him off. All you’ve ever done was protect yourself from his fuckboy ways. After you broke up, he changed so much; he became so cold and heartless. You remember he called you just so you could hear him fucking someone else, and though you laughed it off at the time, you still cried yourself to sleep that night. Yoongi’s been awful, and all you did was match his energy.

You just thought things had gotten a little better with time. You assumed that the resentment was gone and that this was all just a bad way to heal yourselves. But it seems like you were wrong. Yoongi hates you, and you don’t know if you can handle that.

“But I do care. I’ve never stopped caring, Yoongi.”

“Bullshit! You follow my ass around every time you’re here because you want me to fuck you like a whore, then pretend like nothing’s happened. When you’re away for school, I don’t even exist.” His voice increases in volume, bringing more tears to your eyes.

Yoongi rarely gets loud during an argument, but when he does, your feelings are hurt even more.

“I could never just forget you. I love you, Yoongi.”

The word leaves your lips on their own. It’s true, and you hope he can see how vulnerable admitting that makes you. But unfortunately, he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

“Love? Please.” Yoongi’s tone carries nothing but venom. You know you aren’t innocent; you’ve done wrong yourself, but right now, you’re pouring out your heart, and he won’t even acknowledge that. “You don’t even know what that is.”

You shake your head.

“If I didn’t know what it was, I wouldn’t keep torturing myself by sneaking off to see you. You crush me every time, and I still keep coming back. I allow it because I deserve it. I know I fucked up but don’t ever say I don’t love you or care about you because I do, Yoongi!”

He laughs so loudly in response, but you can hear the pain behind it despite its volume.

“Where was this love when I spent nights wondering where you were? When all I could do was doubt myself and wonder where I went wrong?” he asks, making your heart drop into your stomach.

It’s not even what he says that tears you apart. It’s the way his voice breaks as he’s speaking. You didn’t know. How could you when he never wanted to talk about it?

“Yoongi—”

“Keep it,” he says dryly.

But you’re exhausted; this has to end. So you crawl over to him, straddling him so he can look you in the eye. He tells you to get off of him but never pushes you away, and you don’t bother to move.

“No, I’m not going to keep it.” You wipe your tears and clear your throat, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible. “I’m so sorry. I just—”

Your mind races over all the things you’ve wanted to say to him, but now nothing sounds right.

“All you wanted to do was succeed in your career, and I wanted to attend an out-of-state school. I thought I was doing the right thing for both of us. Do you remember when we started dating? You told me you could never do a long-distance relationship. You said it’d never work, and I saw the look you gave me when I told you where I would attend school. You were happy but terrified of losing me. I knew you’d never trust me, but you would have never broken up with me because of it. I thought breaking up would at least take away the worry.”

“Well, it didn’t,” he answers. You nod your head because you know that now.

“I see that, and it’s okay to be hurt, Yoongi. You have every right to be, but please don’t leave me like this. I don’t know how I can live knowing that you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you. I’ve never hated you. I’m just angry with how you’ve been carrying on. It confuses me when you look at me like I’m everything you ever wanted, but then you block me right after we fuck. It’s just a nasty pattern, and I don’t like it.” He’s finally looking at you, actually acknowledging you and trying to understand you.

“I don’t like it either, but it’s the only thing I know how to do. It’s the only thing that stops me from calling you and begging you to give me another chance. I don’t deserve that from you.”

For the first time in years, Yoongi touches you in a nonsexual way. His thumb reaches up and wipes the tear rolling down your cheek. “Everyone deserves a second chance, babe,” he whispers.

“Not everyone.”

“Well, you do. If you really want it. I won’t make you any promises, but I have to agree with you on one thing. I don’t want to leave you like this—us like this.” His hand drifts down your arm, and he interlocks it with yours. “Come here, sweetheart.”

He wraps his arms around you and holds you close. All you can do is cry in his arms. Something you’ve wanted to do ever since the day you reluctantly left him.

“We’ll get through this one, okay. No matter what happens,” he promises, maneuvering your bodies so that you’re lying on his pillows.

“But what about the distance? Wouldn’t it be tough?”

Yoongi sighs, leaving a kiss on your forehead before he replies.

“I don’t think distance is an issue for us,” he laughs, lightening the mood just a bit. His smile is so genuine, and you thank the heavens you’ve gotten to see it again. “Besides, I won’t be gone forever. I’ll come to see you whenever I can, and you can do the same if you want.”

“I’d love that!” Yoongi rolls his eyes at your excitement, but you know he’d like it too.

Your life might be a total mess right now, but at least this is the start of progress. You won’t be spending the night curled up in your room, crying your eyes out. Tonight, you’ve done a lot of crying, but you weren’t alone.

You have no idea what will happen between you and Yoongi, but at least the cycle is broken. The atmosphere feels so different and though you hope you can rekindle your old flame, just being at this level of peace with him is also okay. Only time will tell where this new relationship will go, but until then, you’ll just enjoy the ride.

“Goodnight,” Yoongi murmurs, his face now nuzzled in your hair.

“But I’m not sleepy.” You swing your leg over his body, and something touches your inner thigh that catches your attention. You look between you and then back at Yoongi with a smirk.

“Neither am I, sweetheart. Neither am I.”

[lavenprinz]

pairing: childe x fem reader (it can be gender neutral if you ignore the use of she pronouns like once or twice! i can edit it to a gn or male version if wanted)

warnings: major character death, suicide, yandere themes, reader was kidnapped by childe, angst is the vibe #enjoy if u cry lmk <3

note: my blog contains adult/dark content. please do not interact if you are a minor.

word count: 1.7k (not fully edited because we die like real men)

when childe joins the tsarita at the front lines to rebel against celestia, you had no worries at all. though you were kidnapped long ago by the man, your days were filled with nothing but peace and adoration from the once intimidating man who now is more like an overgrown puppy in love to you. he even gave you an affectionate nickname that had made your heart flutter, being his солнышко. you had even placed a gentle goodbye kiss to his cheek of your own will as he left the front door of your estate, spending your free time alone and missing him with fondness in your mind. there were days in the past where you were afraid of your situation, calling him a kidnapper, a fiend who had taken you from your life! though now you knew, he had freed you from a life of working to relaxing in his arms, being spoilt with countless gifts and genuine love from childe. it had been a stark contrast from your life without others to share it with, always afraid that they would be gone due to the ongoing tensions in teyvat.

so when your maidservant delivered the most shocking news of your life, it had basically killed you.

"lord harbringer is dead."

it should’ve brought you joy as his captive but all you felt was dread. he’s dead? childe and dead don't belong in a sentence, you scoffed to yourself. though the serious look from your maidservant didn't disappear from her face and you felt your heart wrench against your will as your eyes begin to fill with tears. "no! that's impossible, he wouldn't have died, he- he can't." a hiccup broke through your arising heaving sobs as you mumbled incoherently, "he promised me, he wouldn't leave me here alone." you found yourself, collapsed against your bed like a war widow, sobbing into the sheets in fear and heart break, it felt as if your world was ending. you weren't even scared as your captor had left to rebel against celestia but now? the sky had decided to fall upon you and leave you to die without childe's hand to hold.

the days moved on without you knowing as you sat blankly on your bed, watching the sunrise to no news and sunset with lonesome emptiness. if not for your maidservant, you would've remained immobile, sat at your window sill as if waiting, for childe to appear and smile with boyish cheer, letting you know that it was all a silly joke. when you felt your memory of his face begin to slip, you'd walk to the room with the giant portrait of you two, seemingly in love. nobody knows the truth behind the painting beyond the artist, childe and your gone self who had struggled as childe kept you beside him. "i don't want a painting with my kidnapper!" "oh baby, what will we show our kids one day?" "you're sick! i'm never having kids with you, ever!" how you regretted those words as you missed that very man every moment since the news of his sudden passing.

though you desired so desperately to be with him, the estate was always escape and death proofed, just specially for you. back in the times when, when childe had still been around and afraid that you would strike out against him. as if you could've, falling for the man with his sly words and broken promises before you could've even tried to leave. hell, if childe had offered you a way out like his death, you didn't even want to take it.

so on your birthday, it hurts your heart to sit by the dining table alone, a grand feast in front of you but missing the greatest present of all you could've wished for this year. childe, alive, goofily feeding you a plate and joking of a future with your children or you loving him. tears fell from your face as you chose a dish from the spread, taking his favourite seafood soup that didn't taste the same without him. to your surprise however, you noticed that the cutlery included a knife for once. it had been a long time since anything like a weapon was near you and it almost seemed too opportune. what else could you possible as for this year other than to join childe by dying? nobody could stop you, after all, you were practically all alone and hysterical in the estate without him! just why, why did he have to leave you alone until you had to choose this method to finally join him? you've missed him so much that stabbing yourself in the heart doesn't even hurt as much as the knowledge that he had left long before you and now finally, as your tears fall down your face from the pain and heartache, you can reunite with him.

unbeknownst to you and the staff of the mansion childe had constructed just for you, your daily activities were recorded in case of his death and sent to none other than the tsarita. yes, he was reportedly dead. but only to a select few, he was alive and recovering. childe had kept away from you, observing you instead with love in his heart. he had missed you the entire battle though he knew, since teyvat was no longer the same, you may had wanted to leave. so he let them know that he was gone, so you could choose while he recovered. it surprised him when you had instead stayed, apparently writing long letters addressed to him daily and wait for him by the expansive windows he had installed just for you. childe found it so sweet, his солнышко, waiting for him though he was currently needing archon treatment for the aftermath of his delusion usage. he had planned a joyous return as a gift, a present for your birthday. when he strided into the estate, announcing cheerily, "i'm home солнышко!" only to be met with silence, had an eerie atmosphere and the sight that greeted the man made his heart stop.

like a sick version of romeo and juliet, you lay dead, heart pierced for his eyes to feast upon. though he had seen carnage of battle fields and sights that demons would shrink in fear towards, only this struck him with pure terror, his mind filled with alarms and heart racing as he ran towards your limp form to find no heartbeat.

“no no no no, this can’t be happening. солнышко, wake up, this isn’t some joke. i’m home, love, please, look at me! look at me god damn it!” he’d sit the stiff body up only to look into your lifeless eyes, face drained of colour and clearly unwell. his heart ached as he sank to the floor, head buried in his hands from denial. “why? it’s your birthday dear… i came home. why are you dead?” the guttural yell of agony could be heard across the estate, causing your maid servant to hurry into the parlor only to see an impossible sight of the lord harbringer on his knees as you sat like a skeleton above him, unmoving like you were less than an hour ago. "tell me! why is she dead? what happened here!" the rage in his voice told the agent that their next words would cost them their lives if the answer was unsatisfactory though the emotions coursing through childe's body only had one outlet at the moment now that you were gone. to kill. "my lord.. i had left her to eat not even an hour ago to let her meet you privately when you returned. this situation- had never occurred to me would happen."

childe, rightfully out of his mind, felt the impulse to throw a dagger at the maidservant's throat though was stopped by his thought of you, who would've plead for their safety and to not stain the dinner table with blood. his heart twisted at the very imagination of you, pained that you were now unreachable, body decomposing by his very face. "i came home too late didn't i солнышко? i'm sorry." with his pride abandoned by the loss of you, childe stood up shakily to scoop up your cold body in a gentle carry while walking towards your bedroom. "i'll.. help you sleep. for as long as you need, my love." the world had been robbed of light for childe as you departed, his colourful spring that had finally come because of you, returned to the black and white desolate winds of winter that reminded him of the abyss. the underlings of tartaglia could observe over the next weeks his deteriorating health, haunted by visions of you everywhere he went. the estate was sealed up, visitors forbidden and business terminated as the harbringer spent his time alternating your favourite spots, his study filled with secretly commissioned paintings of you full of life unlike his stark reality devoid of your existence, and lastly your grave in a glass greenhouse filled with eternally blooming gardens.

one agent recounts to others in a mournful tone of his experience on guarding the estate at night shift, spooked by the sounds of sorrowful cries echoing the halls and seeking out the source, only to find the lord harbringer in tears in front of a dimly lit portrait of his deceased lover in his arms. another underling speaks of the long hours their master spends sitting by your grave, as if entranced by something that eyes cannot see.

they don't know that childe is plagued with visions that he had imagined to himself with cheer in the past as he read the reports on your activity, only to see you miserable in the places you were in the distant past. you always seemed to plead to yourself for death, so you could be with childe. the words haunted him constantly, through every waking moment until finally childe reached a stage of grief he couldn't stand anymore. "if you wished so dearly to be dead so you could be with me, so do i солнышко." in the hours without the sun, the lord harbringer childe's life was ended by his own hands to join his deceased lover, reunited by death under the crestfallen moon.

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty-Nine

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: not an ending, but a middle.

this chapter was ridiculously difficult to write and edit. it tops out at 7.5k words so… beware

***

Cassian and Nesta make full use of the summer house without his friends there, making love on every other surface just because they’re all alone and they can. Nesta shows a soft spot in particular for having sex in Cassian’s old bed, proving to him that she can be just as sentimental as he is.

Which is how they end up sprawled naked on the living room floor early the next morning, fast asleep in each other’s arms with nothing but a throw blanket to cover them.

Cassian is woken up by the sound of the front door being flung open, followed promptly by a feminine yelp as the intruder catches sight of the tangled couple in the living room. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Cassian whips his head up to find who interrupted his sleep, and his nostrils flare in shock when he sees Mor at the entryway. He carefully but swiftly moves his arm out from under Nesta’s head and replaces it with a nearby pillow before starting to stand up. “What the hell are you doing—”

“Fuck no, I can see your ass—No, now I can see your dick!” Mor squeals in disgust, promptly spinning around and clapping her hands over her eyes like she can burn the image out of her mind.

“Will you shut the fuck up?” Cassian whisper-hisses at her, throwing a worried glance at Nesta’s still sleeping form. She doesn’t shift an inch.

Scooping up his flannel sleep pants from the floor, Cassian pulls them on while Mor makes gagging noises with her back to him.

Spying a pair of underwear flung over the arm of a chair, she bends to pick them up with two pinched fingers and turns to face Cassian, who’s now appropriately covered. Heavy judgment wrinkles her nose as she casts a glance to the owner of the panties, then to Cassian. “Granny panties, Cass? Is this what your sex life has been reduced to?”

“Don’t touch Nesta’s underwear.” He stalks over to Mor and snatches them out of her hand, before grabbing her by the elbow and dragging her off into the kitchen.

She shakes him off once they’re out of earshot from Nesta and takes a seat across from him at the wooden breakfast table. She brushes her golden hair over a shoulder and smirks. “Someone’s been having fun on their own while waiting for the rest of the party to arrive.”

“What are you doing here?” Cassian repeats.

Mor waves a languid hand dismissively. “I ended up taking a commercial flight. I wasn’t a fan of being stuck on the same private plane as Az and Elain.”

Cassian blows out a tight breath, wishing he’d at least gotten some warning before his plans for the day were ruined. Plans that included taking Nesta in the lake before breakfast.

“But seriously,” Mor glances over her shoulder in the direction of the living room, “what’s up with the prude panties? I thought you would’ve thawed that ice pussy by n…” She trails off at the look on Cassian’s face, and a glimpse of fear crosses her own face. She forces a nervous laugh and twists her fingers together. “I suddenly remember making a promise a while ago,” she murmurs while staring down at the table.

“It’s a good thing you remember,” Cassian says stoically, “because I was just about to bring it up.”

“I know, I know, no criticizing your girlfriend.” Mor rolls her eyes.

“It’s about a lot more than that,” he grits. “It’s about how you’re only wary of her because you don’t trust me to choose who I give my love to. It’s about how you don’t respect my decision enough to maintain boundaries when you talk about Nesta.”

For once, Mor looks put off her game. “I never meant it like that,” she tries to say.

“That’s what it looks like,” Cassian retorts. “It looks like you’re judging someone you have no right to judge, like you’re trying to protect me from an imaginary threat.”

Mor coughs aloud. “Do I really need a scolding for a girl I see maybe twice a year? I haven’t even thought about Nesta since the New Year’s party.”

“It’s not a scolding,” Cassian says firmly. “It’s an order to be on your best behavior for the duration of this vacation, because the sisters and I went through a lot to get Nesta to come here. There will be no catfights, or backtalk, or rude looks and snide tones until we’ve returned home. The same applies for everyone else once they get here.”

“Or, how about this? I’ll stop making ice pussy jokes if you stop being this…” Mor waves a hand up and down at Cassian’s shirtless figure with a grimace, “unrecognizable creature with the tension of a forty year old single dad.”

Is Cassian tense? Of course he’s fucking tense. The last time he convinced Nesta to go to a family event with him was Christmas Eve, and he’s never letting that mistake be repeated ever again. His glare confirms it.

“Morrigan,” he says lowly with a hint of warning.

“Okay, okay,” she exclaims, throwing her hands up in surrender. “But for the record, I’ve never said anything rude to your girlfriend’s face, and I never plan to.”

Cassian crosses his brown arms across his chest. “No, you’ve only done it to my face.”

Guilt crosses Mor’s features for the quickest second. “Oh.” She bites her bottom lip. “In that case, I’ll pull back from now on.”

He releases a terse breath. “Good.” Now to hammer the message into anyone else who might threaten the quiet solitude he and Nesta have found here.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she adds somewhat apologetically. “You know I just want the best for you.”

“And you know I already know what’s best for me.”

Mor dips her head in reluctant acknowledgment. “Can we go back to normal, then? I don’t like feeling like your adversary.”

Cassian’s shoulders slump in relief, and his crossed arms fall away. “Of course, Mor.”

Like flipping a switch, Mor claps her hands together. “Good. I left my luggage in the rental car and it’s super heavy; I brought enough clothes for three outfit changes a day. Why don’t you put those big strong muscles to work while I get settled into my room?”

Before Cassian can object, she’s out of her seat and flouncing out of the kitchen. From the entry hall, Cassian can hear Mor say perkily, “Good morning, Nesta! Love the undies.”

Cassian drops his head onto the table with a thud, lifts it, then drops it again. Mor is going to be a work in progress.

“You okay?” A voice makes Cassian look up from the wooden table. Nesta stands in the kitchen entryway wearing nothing but Cassian’s shirt, and her hair is a rumpled mess from sleep. Her hands twisting into the hem of his tee tells him she couldn’t be less excited about Mor’s early arrival, though the rest of her doesn’t show it.

Exhausted apprehensiveness drops in Cassian’s gut. “How much of that did you hear?” he asks warily.

“Not much. I just woke up a minute ago and heard your voices.” She comes over to him and wraps a comforting arm around his shoulder. “Why, were you guys arguing?”

Cassian slings his arm around Nesta’s waist, basking in her warmth. “Not exactly.”

She frowns. “Was it about me?”

“It was about Mor.”

She nudges him. “Will you tell me about it?”

“No,” he quips, yanking her down onto his lap. He pecks a kiss onto her lips. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

Nesta hums to herself. “So our morning plans are out the window?” she asks, raising a brow.

“Yup.”

“Does Mor actually like my undies?”

“Nope.”

***

The rest of Cassian’s friends and Nesta’s family arrive by late afternoon, piling out of a dark SUV in a frenzy of noise and colors. Nesta forgot how… many of them there were.

She lets Cassian and Mor handle the greetings, choosing to observe everyone from her spot near the stairs.

Azriel is the first to catch her eyes. He looks the same as ever, dressed head to toe in black even in the middle of a heat wave. Elain is an overdressed peacock in comparison to him, not that anyone would be comparing them, because they carefully stand at opposite ends of the entry hall.

He sends a simple nod Nesta’s way, which makes her narrow her eyes. Does he think he can act too cool for her just because they haven’t talked in a while? Idiot.

Feyre notices Nesta next and waves her arms wildly. “Get over here!”

Nesta reluctantly pulls away from the banister and nears their group, offering only a half smile to everyone there before hiding behind her sisters. Cassian cuts a glance her way in solidarity, and it feels like a pillar of reinforcement against her wavering self. She scrambles around for a solid ten seconds for something to say, either to her sisters or to the whole group, and finally comes up with, “What are we having for dinner?”

“That’s still hours away,” Rhysand assures. “Everyone scram and put your shit up first.”

“The girl has a point,” Amren grumbles. “I’m starving.”

“Yeah, Rhys, can we have an early dinner?” Mor whines.

And just like that, Nesta has melted into the background again. Which might be for the best, considering how loud it is right now.

Feeling overwhelmed, Nesta checks on Feyre and Elain to make sure they’re not paying attention to her, and then meets Cassian’s gaze through all the luggage and bodies. Tilting her head toward the back door to let him know that she’s leaving, she silently slips down the hall and out of the house.

Outside in the gardens, the light breeze soothes her heightened senses. It’s hot as shit at this hour, but she’ll take it for the peace and quiet.

Only a few minutes into her getaway, however, Nesta hears the porch door open behind her. Her shoulders stiffen when she hears footsteps that don’t belong to Cassian. There goes her peace and quiet.

Nesta is surprised to find Amren slinking up to her side, her small head appearing at Nesta’s shoulder.

Discomfort crawls through Nesta’s bones at the woman’s unexpected presence. It’s a subtle sense of wrongness, like being in the proximity of a predator but not having enough information to guess how they’ll attack.

“Hiding out from Rhysie’s big bad inner circle?” Amren taunts.

Nesta stiffens. Just because it’s true doesn’t mean it needs to be thrown in her face.

“I suppose I can’t blame you,” she goes on. “We can be a scary group.”

“I’m not scared of anybody,” Nesta says, keeping her focus glued to the trees’ cherry blossoms. “I just wanted fresh air.”

“And I’ve wanted to find out what Cassian sees in you ever since he gave me that verbal lashing about being nice to his new girlfriend.” Amren turns to face Nesta fully, closing in. “What kind of pussy grip can a woman have to make Cassian of all men heel?” She hisses in a thoughtful breath through her teeth.

Nesta only shrugs, but her interest is piqued at the idea of Cassian warning Amren away from her. She definitely doesn’t need the protection, and once would have found it offensive, but… she likes the idea of someone standing up for her, being unapologetically on her side even if they have no good reason to do it. The only other times she can remember feeling defended were brief, subtle childhood instances with Feyre and Elain, and that was only because blood instinctively defends blood. It’s different to feel chosen. It makes her chest crack.

When Nesta doesn’t respond, Amren throws out, “Are you on the spectrum or what?”

Nesta again doesn’t reply.

“No one mentioned it, but I assumed as soon as I saw you.”

“It’s rude to make assumptions,” Nesta says, her voice cool as a running river.

Amren barks a laugh that sounds like a whip lashing. “I like you, girl.”

Nesta finally meets Amren’s silver gaze and states, “I don’t like you.” Her tone is blunt, to the point—but if she has to participate in this twisted version of small talk, then she should at least get to be honest.

Amren laughs aloud again, as if that genuinely amuses her. Nesta doesn’t know how amused Amren will be when she realizes that Nesta is serious.

She shrugs to herself, turning back to face the garden. It isn’t her problem, she decides.

***

“Even for you, this is overprotective.” Rhys’s voice comes from behind Cassian, who stands at the sliding glass door at the back of the kitchen that peers out onto the gardens. He’s been watching Amren converse with Nesta for the last seven minutes—or rather, he’s been watching Nesta, inspecting her body language to gauge her discomfort.

It was a struggle not to hold his arm across the back door and block Amren from following after Nesta earlier. Amren had the look of a cat going out to play with a new toy, and Cassian had nearly snarled at her for it until she gave him that expression: the raised brow and sneer that said Really, Cassian? Pathetic.

It made him think of how Nesta would feel if she knew he was trying to physically keep people away from her, and he managed to have enough shame to move aside and let Amren pass with only a warning look.

So far though, it looks like Nesta is handling herself just fine. He should’ve known better than to underestimate her.

When Rhys doesn’t get a response, he comes up to stand at Cassian’s side and get a look through the glass door. “I never thought you’d be applying your passion for security to your damn girlfriend.” Rhys lets out a low whistle.

Without taking his eyes off Nesta and Amren, Cassian tells Rhys, “Protecting her is protecting myself. When she gets hurt, I feel it twofold.” And he really doesn’t want to be hurt on this vacation. Nesta already thinks he’s a crybaby as it is.

Rhys is silent for a long minute, as if he can’t deny that he would feel the same way for his own girlfriend. Eventually he says, “I might finally understand what’s going on in your brain whenever you’re around her.”

Cassian only nods.

Rhysand claps his hand down suddenly on Cassian’s shoulder, breaking the somberness of his confession. “Call them in to help make dinner,” Rhys orders. “I want all hands on deck tonight.”

Cassian looks at his brother with narrowed eyes. “And what will you be doing to help?”

“I’ll be watching the game on the nice TV that I paid for, in the beautiful new living room I also paid for.”

“Bastard.”

***

Nesta and Azriel help prepare dinner in silence. Their quiet acknowledgment of each other is better than any words could be, but it’s all shattered when Mor dumps a serving platter on the counter right next to Azriel.

“Ooh, ricotta-stuffed mushrooms!” She grabs a handful and starts arranging them onto her platter. “Az, how was your mystery weekend away? I haven’t seen you since you got back.”

Azriel shares an unreadable glance with Nesta before sliding his chicken parmesan dish toward her and saying loudly, “Wow, is that football?” He promptly turns around and walks out of the kitchen.

Nesta glares after him in disbelief, but Azriel can’t hear her wordless cries for help because he’s already in the living room.

Left alone at the kitchen counter with Morrigan, Nesta keeps wiping at the wine glasses that have been gathering dust in the cupboards. From the corner of her eye, she can see that Mor’s mouth is tightened into a displeased line.

Not that Nesta isn’t grateful for it, but Mor usually isn’t one to keep her mouth shut. She wonders if something is wrong that she doesn’t know about. “You look constipated,” Nesta tells Mor under her breath. “Anything you want to get out?”

Mor only scoffs in indignation. Then she shakes her head and mutters to herself, “I promised not to say anything.”

Now Nesta is really intrigued. “Promised who?” she prods. “Cassian?”

“Like you don’t know about it.” Mor rolls her dark eyes.

Nesta doesn’t know, though after Amren’s comment earlier she might have a hint. “I would prefer you be honest with me rather than follow Cassian’s orders.”

“That’s funny, so do I.” Mor plucks up a stuffed mushroom and shoves it into her mouth.

Nesta thinks back to how she woke up to Cassian and Mor’s voices lowered in seriousness. After what Nesta overheard on New Year’s Eve, it’s no secret that Morrigan doesn’t care for her, but she suddenly has the urge to have it said to her face. “Well, if you want to stop holding back with me, I won’t tell.”

Morrigan sets down her mushroom platter with a thump, turning to face Nesta like she’s done her a personal wrong. “You know what I know about you, Nesta?” Mor says. “I know that Cassian has changed since he’s gotten with you. I know that he’s more serious whenever he’s around you. I know that you don’t love him as much as he loves you. How can Cassian expect me to trust someone that doesn’t want to be around his own family? How can he expect me to trust you with his heart? Not that I’m allowed to be saying any of this, because I’m supposed to be hiding my feelings about you to stop my best friend from hating me.”

It’s crazy how a year ago those words would have been enough to make Nesta retreat to her room and never come out again. Each statement pricks like a shard of glass against her skin, though none of them are accurate or true.

And yet Nesta finds herself hurting more for Cassian than for herself. She feels her familiar old mask go up around her face and harden there.

“It sounds like your problem is more with Cassian than it is with me,” Nesta says stoically. “Because I won’t be going through any trials to prove myself. I have nothing to prove. I don’t care if you like me or not, if you’re nice to my face or cruel behind my back—but it’s rude to shit over your friend’s life choices like that. He’ll stop trusting you if you keep it up, and it won’t be my fault when it happens,” Nesta finishes. She wordlessly gathers the wine glasses in her hands and abandons a silent Morrigan to go set the table.

Nesta knows the dynamic at dinner is off with her presence there.

For once, Cassian’s priorities lie somewhere other than laughing with his friends. He keeps a protective hand on Nesta’s thigh from the moment they take their seats, and he only removes it when he’s filling her plate with food.

With memories of Christmas dinner hanging over all of them, Cassian looks like a bodyguard prepared for attack— except he’s contributing to a good half of the tension at the table.

“How was the drive here?” Feyre pokes at the two of them in an attempt to break the ice. Nesta glances to Cassian for his response, but his attention is taken by the platter of bread rolls.

Sighing internally, Nesta answers, “Better than yours, that’s for sure.”

Everyone laughs hesitantly. A steaming bread roll then appears on Nesta’s plate, golden and fluffy with a buttery aroma; one glance at the rest of the bread tells her it was the biggest roll in the pile.

Nesta drops her walls enough to give Cassian a small smile and an arm rub of appreciation, and then she reaches straight for the bottle of wine.

She loves Cassian and hates this dinner too much to allow this to go on.

After filling Cassian’s empty glass high with Merlot, Nesta presses it into his free hand with a subtle kiss on his cheek. “Relax a little,” she murmurs into his ear.

It takes ten minutes and two full glasses for her plan to take effect, but relax Cassian does. Like oil slipping through rusted gears, the tension in the room slowly unwinds and natural conversation starts to flow.

“You guys will not believe what I had to walk in on this morning,” Mor announces at one point during the meal.

“Yeah, yeah, Cassian’s ass and dick, we’ve already heard,” Amren says.

Cassian’s glare at Mor is more lighthearted than life-threatening. “This is why I can’t talk to you anymore,” he states, pointing a finger at her. Nesta is so glad for the lack of tension in his shoulders that she doesn’t even care if everyone basically knows about her having sex in the living room.

With Cassian acting more like his normal self, the pressure to make useless small talk is no longer on her. Nesta is content to watch everybody share stories and laughter, but for once she doesn’t feel like an audience member on the outside looking in. Maybe it’s because no matter how much Cassian drinks, his hand stays steady on her leg the whole night, keeping her rooted there with everybody else. He doesn’t let her fade into the background for a second.

“What’s that on your wrist, Az?” Mor’s voice rings from one head of the table. Azriel snatches his hand back in a flash before Mor can reach for it. From his other side, Nesta grabs it smoothly out of the air to take a look at the cause of Mor’s question.

She raises her brow at the sight of three colorful bracelets lining Azriel’s right wrist.

Az tries to pull his hand away, but Nesta’s hold is tight. Even if the signature of the maker wasn’t stamped onto one of the childish bracelets, she would know who had made them with one glance.

“What does it say?” Mor asks her.

“Nothing. Just some beads.” Nesta pulls Azriel’s dark sleeve over the beads that spell out GWYN’S BITCH and gives his arm a little pat. She sincerely hopes Elain is thoroughly over Azriel by now.

“Was that Rainbow Loom I saw? Since when did you wear kiddy bracelets?” Mor snorts at Az.

Nesta’s attention is pulled away from their conversation by a heavy head falling onto her shoulder. “Nestaaa,” Cassian slurs, slumping against her side.

Blushing at the attention he’s drawing to her, Nesta tries to shove a drunk Cassian back upright. “I think we need to get you to bed.”

“Oh really? Promise you’ll tuck me in?” He tries to wink at her, but it comes off as a strained blink.

He looks ridiculous. It isn’t helping the blush on her cheeks, though.

“I promise.” Nesta shoves her finished plate aside and grabs Cassian by the bicep, standing up and attempting to drag him with her. “Come on, I’ll take you right now.”

Mor is quick to get to her feet. “We can take him,” she offers eagerly.

“Who’s we?” Azriel mutters. Nesta hears a hard stomp, and then Az is coughing, jumping out of his seat after Mor. “Yeah, we’ll take him,” he says.

Nesta reluctantly lets Cassian slip out of her grasp as Morrigan and Azriel take one of his arms from either side.

“Wait, but I want Nesta to tuck me in!” Cassian twists around as he’s dragged away, drunkenly finding Nesta’s gaze. He’s pouting.

Affection battles with secondhand embarrassment and wins. “I’ll be right there,” she promises with a wave. As soon as Mor and Azriel accomplish whatever it is they’re trying to accomplish. Her voice flattens into a cold warning when she adds after them, “Be careful with him.”

Daring a quick glance back at the table, Nesta wants to cringe when she meets everyone else’s eyes. Rhysand looks highly amused. Feyre looks disturbed, and Elain looks glum with envy, the love-obsessed bitch. Amren is Amren.

After dinner is over, dishes duty is handed over to Rhysand and Amren goes off to bed complaining about beauty sleep, which leaves Nesta alone with her sisters in the foyer.

She doesn’t quite know how, but she ends up forgetting her promise to Cassian and following the girls out to the front porch for some fresh air instead. The sun has long since set, taking some of the summer heat with it, but the air is still stuffy as the three of them settle down onto hand-painted wooden chairs. Lanterns on the porch are lit up to keep the darkness away, and the lake before them gleams with the reflection of the rising moon.

Feyre is the first to speak, her voice hesitant. “It’s hot out tonight, isn’t it?”

“I’m not doing this,” Elain announces. She stands abruptly from her chair and goes back inside.

Nesta and Feyre stare wide-eyed after the swinging front door, but a minute later Elain returns holding a decanter and three crystal glasses. She sets the glasses down on a side table and starts pouring. “It’s not really Tennessee without a strong whiskey,” she says to no one. “And I’m way too sober right now to handle this vacation.” The third glass gets an extra finger of liquor, and it ends up in Elain’s hand. She passes the other two to Nesta and Feyre before settling back into her seat.

Nesta grimaces at the drink in her hand without even tasting it. She hates most alcohol, but strong alcohol especially. For the sake of her sisters, however, she throws back half the glass without thinking.

Liquid fire scalds her tongue and throat, and she groans aloud. Instant regret.

Elain has no such issues downing her liquor. “Did you know,” she says after swallowing a gulp of whiskey like it’s apple juice, “that our old place is just a mile and a half that way?” She waves with her glass toward the back gardens.

“Is it really that close?” A frown wrinkles Feyre’s brow, like the memory of their old home might taint the perfect life she has now.

“Yes,” Nesta confirms. She doesn’t offer anything else.

Feyre shudders despite the temperature. “I hate even thinking about it. It’s so depressing. Reminds me of Papa.”

Which is also depressing, Nesta thinks to herself.

“It wasn’t depressing for me,” Elain says, chin tilted up in defiance.

That doesn’t surprise Nesta. Even in the depths of their father’s patheticness, he was Elain’s favorite man on earth.

Nesta used to wonder how her papa would have reacted if Elain was the one with crippling endometriosis pain every month instead of her. Would he have ignored her cries like he ignored Nesta’s, or would he have come running to her aid?

It’s not a question that’s worth Nesta’s time and energy, though. Not when the man himself has long been six feet under. Instead she pokes at Elain, “Then why did you hide your background from every guy you met like you were ashamed of it?”

“I was ashamed,” Elain says primly, “but that doesn’t mean I hated all of it. We didn’t all grow up with a ten foot stick up our ass; at least I could appreciate what we had without taking my attitude out on everybody else.”

The whiskey must be working quickly, because Nesta can’t hold back an unseemly snort. “There you go again,” she drawls in a cutting tone, pointing an accusing finger with the hand that holds her glass at Elain. “Dishing out shit when you can’t take it back. At least not without crying.”

Feyre, who was trying to hide her cringe with the rim of her drink, now perks up with eagerness. “She does do that, doesn’t she?” she exclaims. “I thought I was the only one who noticed.”

Elain’s lips twist into an indignant sneer. “What’s this dynamic now, why’s everyone ganging up on me?”

Nesta mutters, “Because you need to hear it every now and then.” Turning to Feyre, she adds, “God, she can be fucking annoying.”

“Oh, like you’re everyone’s favorite person to be around?” Elain scoffs.

“At least I don’t pretend to be something I’m not. That’s called a con artist, Elain. You’re a con artist.”

There’s stunned silence for a tense moment—and it’s broken by full laughter. Elain is chuckling sweetly as she says, “Well, I suppose it’s okay if only you two are the ones who notice it. It can be our little secret.” She presses a finger to her pink lips.

Feyre giggles along at that too, but Nesta remains quiet. Too sober for the current mood, perhaps. “Do you think someone will notice at one point?” she asks Elain. “That the smiles and Southern charm and—the kindness...” She doesn’t know how to feel about that word in relation to Elain. “Do you think someone will notice that that’s not all there is to you?”

Elain’s grinning face freezes quicker than an actress’s. “No one will know,” she answers smoothly, “because I’m not going to be with anyone else for a while.”

At the confused silence filled only by the chirp of cicadas, Elain supplements, “I’m trying out the single life.”

Nesta meets Feyre’s eyes, and it only catalyzes the sound quelling up in her throat. At the same moment, the two sisters burst into cackling laughter. Well, Feyre cackles. Nesta makes a noise that imitates a dying whale.

“I’m serious,” Elain insists, glaring at them. “If Nesta could spend all those years living like a widowed hag, why can’t I? I don’t need men to live.”

Nesta’s laughter sours at the insult, and she turns to Elain with seriousness in her tone. “No one needs anyone else, Elain—but you treat loneliness like a leper from the Middle Ages. Are you even happy for me and Cassian beneath all that jealousy?”

Elain shifts uncomfortably in her chair and mutters, “Of course I’m happy for you two.” And then she adds in a much quieter voice, “Deep, deep down.”

“Is that what was wrong with you on New Year’s?” Feyre asks gently. “You were jealous?”

Nesta raises a brow; she didn’t know this.

“I wasn’t exactly having fun watching you two suck face right after getting dumped by Azriel,” Elain tells Nesta. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not happy for you. I just…I’m not used to being the lonely one.” She huffs out a sigh and reaches for the decanter again. “If anyone should be in a happy and healthy relationship right now, it should be me.”

Feyre turns to Nesta and whispers too loudly, “You’re right, she is fucking annoying.”

“Don’t get too friendly; so are you.”

Feyre leans away from Nesta in affront. “I didn’t even do anything this time!”

“You don’t need to do anything for Nesta to think she’s better than us,” Elain chimes in.

The three of them break out into bickering, which soon devolves into hysterical laughter, which then morphs into a comfortable silence—which doesn’t last long until they’re bickering again. They spend the rest of the night going in small circles like that over their whiskey, occasionally taking breaks to talk of more serious things: Elain’s flower shop is finally starting to pick up business, but expenses are still too high. Nesta is worried about Cassian being all alone in Italy by himself, but she’ll never show it to him. Feyre’s work at the children’s art studio is making her seriously consider having kids (“Don’t you dare, you’re way too young,” Nesta threatens).

Each of them reveals that they miss at least one of their shitty parents these days.

Maybe it’s because they’re under the same night sky that they spent their childhoods under, but if Nesta closes her eyes, it’s like she’s seventeen again, letting her sisters stay up and talk her ear off even though it’s a weeknight.

***

The lack of Nesta in Cassian’s bed must stop him from succumbing to deep sleep, because his nap is hazy and doesn’t last more than a half hour. When he blinks awake, the fog of wine from earlier has mostly cleared away and the lamps in his room are lit. Mor sits on the bay window seat and Azriel lounges on a chair nearby, both of them murmuring quietly to each other.

Noticing Cassian’s movement, Az turns away from Mor and drawls, “That was quick.”

Groaning, Cassian rubs at his eyes and sits up straight. His shirt and jeans are flung on the floor, and he can only assume he took them off himself before collapsing into bed.

Holding the thin blanket to his chest, he demands, “What are you guys doing here?”

“Oh, now he has modesty,” Mor grumbles.

Cassian grabs his wrinkled shirt from the floor and shrugs it on before repeating his question. “What are you doing here, and where’s Nesta?”

“Don’t know,” Az shrugs from his chair. “But Mor wanted us to talk alone, so Nesta probably doesn’t need to be here.”

Growing wary, Cassian straightens up against the headboard. “Talk about what?”

Mor’s words take him by surprise. “I wanted to apologize.” She straightens up in her seat and throws a cautious glance at Azriel. “And I wanted Az with me for moral support.”

Az rolls his eyes to himself, likely considering the task beneath him.

“I didn’t take your words that seriously this morning,” Mor goes on, “but I’m taking them seriously now. Someone made me realize that I’ve been blaming your—girlfriend... for our relationship changing when I’m the one who’s been pushing you away the whole time. While you were falling in love, I wasn’t there for you. I didn’t trust you to find love without my input, and I didn’t respect you when you did.” Tears line her dark eyes, taking Cassian aback. “I’m sorry,” she says weakly. “Please don’t hate me.”

A headache takes root in Cassian’s temples, and he has to shut his eyes against the dull thudding. “I could never hate you, Mor,” he says past the lump in his throat. That was never the problem, though her words have eased some of the pent up frustration in his chest.

Cassian lets out a long-suffering sigh. “It’s not just you. It’s every single one of us. We’ve known each other so long, we’re so fucking entangled in each other, that even when I’m living by myself up in my cabin I feel like I can’t get away from it.” He stares out the window like he might find some relief there. “That’s why I’m going overseas. To get some space from all of this.” He waves between the three of them and laughs bitterly. “We created this incestuous little circle and now we don’t know how to care about anyone outside of it.”

He catches Az frowning, fingers toying with one of the bracelets on his wrist that Cassian spied earlier.

Mor sniffs away a lingering tear. “What about Nesta, then? Where does she factor in?”

Cassian’s mouth turns down in a distasteful frown. He still doesn’t like that he has to leave without her, but the fact that he doesn’t like it is only more proof that he needs to do it. “I can’t let Nesta be a part of me,” he answers. “I need to be all of me.”

Only once he learns how to do that can he be the friend and lover that the people in his life deserve.

***

Nesta wakes up the next dawn not on a hard chair, but in a soft bed. The smell of Cassian lingers on the sheets wrapped around her, and she blinks blearily as she tries to remember the events of last night.

Feyre fell asleep first. Elain and Nesta were just going to close their eyes for a moment and take a brief rest as well, but the next thing Nesta knew Cassian was helping her take out her contacts and laying her head against a pillow. Now the sun is dawning and she has a pounding headache. She needs at least another ten hours of sleep before she’ll be fit to face the world again.

She looks around for her phone to check the time and spots it plugged into the charger on the bedside table. Despite feeling like she’s been rammed with the flu, the tiniest smile lifts Nesta’s lips at the thought of Cassian carrying her to bed and making sure to charge her phone.

She finds her lockscreen blown up with notifications, all from her shared groupchat with Gwyn and Emerie.

Clicking into her texts, Nesta scrolls back through the hundreds of messages to see what she missed.

Emerie: i can’t believe nesta isn’t here for this.

Emerie: what the hell is she doing

Gwyn: probably hanging out with her best friends the inner circle

Gwyn: or getting railed

Emerie: >:(

A tired laugh escapes Nesta as she reads the texts, and she’s grateful for the reminder that these are her chosen friends. This is her found family, and she’ll be back with them soon.

Scrolling a little further back, Nesta finds the cause of all the commotion.

Emerie: A RACCOON JUST FELL THROUGH MY CEILING IM GONMA DUE &%!@

Emerie: DIE

Followed by multiple pictures of a scarily large raccoon chewing up Emerie’s bed.

Nesta shudders at the images. Reminding herself to message the girls back as soon as she has her head on straight, she puts away the phone and drags herself out of bed.

Her knees wobble a little as she stands upright and slips her glasses on, but her body keeps moving automatically toward the door. It’s not until she’s halfway downstairs that she realizes she’s looking for Cassian.

In the main hall that cuts through the house, Nesta glances between the back door and the front door. Instinct tugs her toward the front door, and as she passes the living room she spies Elain knocked out on the couch.

One of her legs dangle off the edge of the cushion and she still has her shoes on, like she dragged herself up onto the loveseat in the middle of the night and fell straight asleep.

Cassian brought Nesta up to their room sometime during the night, and Rhysand would have done the same for Feyre, but Elain… Elain has no one to carry her to her room, Nesta realizes.

Hating the unusual feeling of pity that blooms inside of her, Nesta goes over and grabs a throw blanket from nearby. She flings it haphazardly over Elain’s body. There, that should do it.

She might take a few seconds to tuck the blanket in a little better, but then she’s out the front door and jogging down the porch steps. Early morning dew beads the grass, and the sun isn’t high enough in the sky yet for the heat to be unbearable.

Like perfect timing, Cassian’s form appears from the lightly wooded running trail that circles the lake. He has his hair tied up and is wearing nothing but workout shorts, and even from this distance Nesta can see the sweat gleaming off his hardened chest.

She forgets about her headache and the bitter aftertaste of alcohol coating her tongue. Her feet speed up on the grass, and then Cassian takes sight of her too. He grins wide and breaks into a run toward her.

When they’re mere feet away from each other, Nesta is the one to halt first and hold out a hand, blocking Cassian’s incoming bear hug. “Don’t you dare.” She eyes his body with a warning look. Nesta will do a lot of things for her boyfriend, but sticking her face into his sweaty pits is not one of them.

Cassian looks her up and down with scrutiny, trying to decide if going in for the hug anyway is worth it. “Fine,” he gives in. He spins on his heel and walks down to the head of the pier, where a standing shower is set up for washing off after swims in the lake.

Twisting the faucet, Cassian stands under the cold burst of water and gives Nesta a look that says, Happy now?

Nesta cautiously goes over to where Cassian stands, but she gets too close—

In a blink, she’s being tugged under the shower stream, held tight to Cassian’s chest.

“Cassian!” Nesta splutters, trying to pull away. Droplets hit her glasses and blur her vision, and she has to shove the glasses up into her hair so she can properly glare at Cassian’s face.

He only laughs deeply and tugs her closer. “Like you don’t smell either. You’ve been in that dress since yesterday.”

Nesta catches her breath under the pouring water, glancing down at her soaked sundress. Right; she probably needs this more than he does.

The water isn’t freezing like she expected, she realizes as she relaxes in Cassian’s arms. It’s actually the perfect temperature, almost soothing after the initial shock to her senses.

Broad hands stroke long lines across her arms, like Cassian is making sure that she isn’t uncomfortable. The action triggers an old memory inside Nesta—or rather, an old familiar feeling. The feeling of Cassian in Nesta’s early days of knowing him, always pushing her out of her comfort zone but never tossing her in the deep end to drown.

“I handled my sisters and your friends pretty well the other night, don’t you think?” she murmurs into his chest.

Cassian looks down at her with pure reverence in his eyes. “I can’t be surprised. You’ve always been like that.”

“Like what?”

“Brave as hell. From the minute you stepped outside of the little circle you’d drawn around your life, you became the bravest person I know.”

“Not true,” Nesta states matter-of-factly. “I can name at least three braver people.”

Cassian pokes her in the ribs, but his smile is good natured. “It’s just an expression, Nes. Take the compliment.”

The shower keeps spraying around them, refracting the sunlight to scatter rainbows across Nesta’s vision. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” she tells Cassian earnestly. “I did the bulk of the hard work, but you…you gave me that first push. You taught me I could find safety in others, because you were my first real friend.”

Her words clearly take Cassian by surprise. Maybe it’s because Nesta is so rarely open about her true feelings, so her words have more value when she is. Maybe Cassian just wasn’t expecting to get so much credit, which is why he blinks rapidly now. “And what now?” he tries to tease, emotion tangled in his throat. “You have better friends?”

“Much better,” Nesta plays along, but her gaze carries all her sincerity. She suddenly laughs to herself, remembering: “I was terrible at socializing.”

It’s something she brushes off easily now, but few people will ever know that part of her inability to get close to others stemmed from a debilitating fear of rejection.

“Not to me.” Cassian reaches out to twist the faucet off, leaving the two of them standing soaked in the morning air. “I loved talking to you. I couldn’t stop wanting to talk to you, even if you didn’t feel like talking back.” That was how insistent he’d been on becoming her friend, that he would open up to her even when she was closed off to him.

Nesta watches Cassian tug his hair tie off, a little dazed by how much she feels for him in this moment. She isn’t ready for when he scrubs a hand vigorously through his loose hair, shaking the dripping strands out like a dog.

“Cassian!” Nesta scolds for the second time this morning. She flinches back at the water droplets hitting her eyes, making Cassian laugh when he looks back up at her. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. To make up for the assault, he delicately plucks her glasses off the top of her head and uses the hem of her wet dress to wipe off the lenses as best he can.

He slides the glasses back onto her face and nods, inspecting her. “That’s better.” Then he swoops down to kiss the mole beside her mouth.

Nesta wrinkles her nose in surprise. “What’s that for?”

“It’s a thank you,” he says. “Thank you for your car breaking down in the middle of the woods, and for agreeing to spend the night at my place last September.”

Nesta’s brows raise high in amusement. “Shouldn’t you be thanking Feyre? For calling in that favor with you?”

“One day, I’ll do that too,” he promises.

Nesta bites down on a smile and shakes her head, muttering, “Ridiculous.” Yet she can’t help but wonder: who would she thank?

The universe, probably. Whatever forces made it possible for her to wake up every day in the same bed as Cassian, eating the food he cooks and accepting the unconditional love he offers.

She suddenly shivers under the rising sun, becoming aware of how just uncomfortably her sundress clings to her body. Without Cassian’s words distracting her, everything is damp and cold.

Cassian notices and slips his hand into Nesta’s, already starting to pull her away from the pier and toward the house. “Let’s get you dry,” he says. “I’ll make us pancakes before everyone else wakes up.”

“With chocolate chips?”

“With chocolate chips.”

So hand in hand, the two of them walk back up to Cherrywood House.

***

a/n: IM FREE OF THIS BEAST. that ending was absolutely horrible to write, but i hope it satisfied you anyway. and if didnt, well, that’s what the epilogue is for

tagging: @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @arinbelle @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes

[shemarmooresfedora]

Sugary Sweet Apologies

Summary: You and Reid never really got along but when he saves your life, you decide to be the bigger person and thank him and hopefully start over. Unfortunately, it isn’t that easy.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: light to mild angst with fluffy ending, swearing, spencer reid being an annoying bitch, brief mentions of case stuff (if you watch cm, you should be fine)

A/N: this is for @willowrose99 ‘s 1 year anniversary on tumblr writing challenge!! congrats! i literally wrote and edited this whole thing in less than one day because i got so excited, anyways i hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.8k

“Reid and Y/L/N, go to David Whitney’s house. He was the therapist of two of the three victims. He could have some insight into the victimology and know of any overlap between them. He has no criminal record of past aggressive behavior but we can’t rule him out as a suspect entirely,” Hotch stated.

“Hotch, you stuck me with her yesterday for the geographical profiling. Send Prentiss with her instead,” Spencer whined.

“I don’t mind going with Y/L/N. She is a great partner in the field,” Emily glared at Spencer.

“No. Reid, go with Y/L/N or be taken off this case. I’m a unit chief, not an elementary school teacher. I don’t have time for temper tantrums,” Hotch chided.

“Fine,” Spencer grumbled as you grabbed the keys to an SUV.

You don’t know what it was but ever since you started at the BAU four months ago, Spencer had never liked you which resulted in you disliking him as well. Everyone else on the team was super friendly and welcoming but Reid always was jabbing snarky remarks your way like “I don’t have time to explain it to you” or “This was in the FBI handbook. God, you need more training.”

Luckily, the others were quick to defend you. Once Garcia even heard him snip at you over the phone and as soon as you all got off the elevator after the case, Reid was being dragged by his ear into Garcia’s lair with him going “ow ow ow” behind her. So, you didn’t really pay much mind to him because you could deal with one annoying know-it-all to have such an amazing job with great coworkers minus the one.

“Look, I’m not happy about this either,” you said as you climbed into the driver’s side of the SUV, “But at least I’m not being a whiny bitch about it and being rude to the other person’s face.”

“Oh wow, I’m so sorry that I hurt your feelings,” Spencer mocked.

“Fuck you, Reid,” you shook your head.

-

David Whitney was on edge the second you arrived and showed him your badges. He was bouncing his leg up and down, he couldn’t sit still, and he kept avoiding eye contact.

He knew way too much about the other victim that wasn’t even one of his clients but you didn’t have anything solid on him. His house seemed very neat so you doubted he kept anything incriminating here. Organized offenders usually have a secondary location. So, you decided to push his buttons a little.

“I mean blitz attacks, leaving the bodies on the side of dirt roads,” you combed through the crime scene photos, “This guy was a real coward.”

Spencer picked up on what you were trying to do and his eyes widened, he was subtly shaking his head and mouthing “no”.

“Excuse me?” David asked.

“Well, I’m just saying a real man wouldn’t cower in the bushes and blindside a woman. He must not be very strong,” you stated, “He probably can’t even get it up.”

Before you even had time to react, David pulled out a switchblade knife from inside the couch cushions and put you in a chokehold, pressing the cool metal up to your throat. You closed your eyes tightly.

“David, you don’t have to do this,” Spencer stood with his gun pointed at you both.

“This bitch insulted me,” he snarled.

“She insults me too. That doesn’t make you any less of a man,” Spencer spoke carefully, “Just put the knife down and I’ll escort you out.”

David sighed, dropping the knife to the floor and releasing you.

Spencer put David in handcuffs and walked him outside as reinforcements came running in.

“Are you okay, Y/L/N?” Hotch asked.

“Yep, a little shaken up but fine. Thank you,” you stood.

“Let’s get you to the medics,” Morgan grabbed your arm to support you as you walked over to the ambulance.

Spencer never checked on you.

-

You knew your decision in the field was a little rash and you wanted to thank Spencer for essentially saving your life.

However, there was no way in hell you could verbally get out an apology while staring at his smug face, but you could bake. You settled on a note tucked inside a tupperware container of your Grandma’s special recipe of chocolate chip cookies. It was a good peace offering, maybe even a chance to start fresh.

During your lunch break, you took the tupperware from your desk drawer and approached the break room where Reid had entered about 5 minutes ago.

“I’m just saying I could not have been more clear in my message to her that it was too dangerous but of course, Y/L/N didn’t listen cause Y/L/N is going to do whatever she feels like,” Spencer stirred his coffee.

No one had noticed you standing in the doorway yet.

“Reid, you’ve got to be nicer to her. She earned her spot here just like the rest of us,” Emily defended you.

“Did she though? How much do we really know about her? She couldn’t even tell me how many pages the FBI protocol manual was,” Spencer said.

“That’s not a normal thing people know,” Morgan retorted.

“Well, I’m just saying the team was perfectly fine before her and it would probably be better off if she left,” Reid finished.

Garcia looked up from her yogurt to see you standing there, “Oh, Y/N”.

Spencer turned around in his chair as you angrily stormed up to him.

“Here’s your cookies, asshole,” you seethed, grabbing the note from inside and crumpling it up into a little ball and tossing it into the trash.

“Y/N!” Emily called after you but you were already gone.

The whole team glared at Spencer and picked up their lunches, leaving him alone at the table.

Spencer retrieved the balled up paper from the trash, having to fish through Rossi’s week old pasta and Anderson’s half eaten tuna fish sandwich.

Dear Reid,

Thank you for saving my life, I guess. These are my Grandma’s secret recipe for chocolate chip cookies so I hope you enjoy. I think we got off on the wrong foot and I would like to start over. I think cases would be a lot less miserable for everyone if we got along.

Thanks again,

Y/L/N

Spencer, you’re such an idiot, he thought to himself.

You never came back after your lunch break ended and Derek made Spencer go tell Hotch why it’s his fault you were missing the rest of the day.

He tried to call you multiple times but they always rang out before going to voicemail.

Spencer hesitantly knocked on Penelope’s door at the end of the day.

“Is she okay?” he asked softly.

“You don’t get to ask that as the person who hurt her in the first place. Also, she told me to tell you that don’t you dare go to her apartment to ‘check on her’. I’m headed over there myself actually,” Penelope collected her things and shut off her monitors.

“Will you at least tell her I’m really sorry?” Spencer followed her to the elevator.

“Absolutely not. I’m not doing any apologizing on your behalf,” Penelope huffed as the elevators shut.

-

You came in the next morning, keeping your head down. You grabbed a pen from your cup holder and the first folder on your stack before getting to work.

You were on the second page of the file when your clean, empty tupperware was placed in front of you plus another baking dish with aluminum foil over the top.

You glanced up to see Spencer guiltily looking down at you and you returned your eyes back to the file.

“I-I made you cinnamon rolls,” Spencer broke the silence.

“Are they poisoned?” you asked, not sparing him another glance.

“No, they’re not poisoned,” he assured you.

“I’m just saying how can I trust you as you have made it very apparent you would like me off this team.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Spencer was quick to reply.

“Then why the hell did you say it, Reid?” you slammed your pen down.

You grabbed your empty coffee mug and briskly walked to the break room but unfortunately, Spencer was right behind you.

“I didn’t eat any of your cookies by the way. Not that I didn’t want to but I felt like I didn’t deserve them so I handed them out to everyone else.”

“Oh how kind, taking credit for my work,” you tried to close the door in his face.

“I told them that they were from you,” Spencer insisted.

You rolled your eyes as Spencer grabbed the coffee pot before you could get to it, pouring your mug of coffee for you.

“What do you want from me, Reid?” you asked defeatedly.

“I want you to try a cinnamon roll and let me explain.”

“Fine but only because I didn’t have breakfast yet and I want to critique your baking skills,” you huffed, walking back to your desk.

Spencer gingerly placed one of the sticky frosting-coated rolls on a napkin and pushed it towards you. You tentatively bit into it. Damn it, it was actually delicious.

“It’s okay,” you understated.

You knew Spencer hardly ever used his kitchen let alone be up baking all night. He even chose a recipe that required more time and effort because the yeast dough would have to rise for a few hours.

“That’s good. The first batch didn’t come out as great...or the second,” he smiled softly.

“Well, the floor is all yours, Reid. Please explain to me why you talk shit about me to my co-workers when I’m in the other room,” you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms.

Spencer muttered something incoherent.

“I have to hear the apology, you know,” you said, enjoying watching him uncomfortable.

“You’re intimidating to me because you’re intelligent, beautiful, and courageous. I think I was a little jealous that my spotlight as the ‘kid’ of the BAU was coming to an end so I said some harsh, completely untrue things and I’m sincerely sorry.”

“Oh my god,” you smirked, “Hotch was right, you are an elementary school kid.”

“In what way?” he curiously asked.

“You like me like like like me. You don’t know how to talk to the girl so you pull her pigtails on the playground,” you giggled.

“I take it back. You’re a horrible profiler,” Spencer was getting up from his seat, completely flustered.

“Awww,” you were laughing at Spencer’s bright red face as he went to go to the break room to fill his coffee mug.

When he got back to his desk, a sticky note was placed front and center.

In typical elementary school fashion…

Will you go get coffee with me?

Check:

Yes

or

No

Spencer smiled before picking up his pen and checking one of the boxes, crumpling the sticky note up into a ball and throwing it over to your desk.

“Good choice. See you Saturday at 9 at the cafe down the street,” you grinned.

“It’s a date,” he smiled.

[studiojeon]

bitterness in goodbye | jjk

this is part of my troubled outsiders series. sadly, you can't read this as a stand alone (meaning: feel free to check the previous parts ♡)

| summary | - You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.

warnings: none (?) i mean chaeryeong insults jungkook which is an atrocity in itself but-

contents: we diving into the angst my friends. jungkook is an innocent, kind hearted soul, i promise. oc's got the feels (out oct. 1) for jk. idol!jungkook × student!reader.

author's note: I EDITTED THIS FROM MY PHONE DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW FUCKING ANNOYING THAT IS? also, thank u for the amount of support i've been receiving lately, i appreciate everyone lots. feel free to ask away or suggest anything btw, i would love to write for any prompts you guys come up with. 💞💗💖💘💓💕

words: 1.57k

playlist: honey by halsey

Four weeks later, the receptionist of your apartment complex hands you over a cardboard box with the hoodie Jungkook and you had talked about that day on the Han River. Jungkook kept pestering you to please please please send him your address for confidential purposes, which you knew had to do with his determination to literally provide anything that catches your eye right away. You assumed it was a sensitive topic for the boy whether people had purposefully taken advantage of his money before, so you didn’t dare to say anything when the man asked you for your size literally two hours after he dropped you off, scared to either reject his solidare intentions or piss him off for bringing unwanted memories back. In  your defense, your personality type keeps oscillating between INFP and INFJ so it’s only natural that you take extra care to make sure those around you have as much peace of mind as possible in your presence. 

As pretty and comfortable the piece of soft clothing is, an important factor is missing, something that you can’t recreate buying two of the same size and color, and that is Jungkook's escence and how good it looks on him in comparison to anyone else in the world. Meaning, you didn’t like it as much as you thought initially would. And it absolutely did not have to do with the fact that your short stature made you look like a toddler who stole their dad’s jacket.

Still, in order to show Jungkook how much you appreciate his gift, you bring it to work the next day, and the rest of the days after that, with the excuse that with winter rolling around you needed something to keep you warm in the office. Jungkook doesn’t miss the opportunity to confirm your assumptions regarding your appearance whenever he barges into your office randomly throughout the week, arguing that ”you look so adorable” and doesn’t stop for two weeks more, until he gets used to seeing you wearing something you shared with him. Which doesn’t help ease your growing romantic feelings for him whatsoever.

Because yeah, you liked Jeon Jungkook, just like every human being with eyes and sexual desires, except, you didn’t just like him in a superficial way, and that’s where the problem with him resides. Though you are sure everyone has fallen in love with the endearing boy at some point - especially the excluded and invalidated women of society - you can’t help but place some blame on you for allowing yourself to be swooned so goddamn easily. Your mom had said to you at some point to be wary of the way some men would talk to you when you grew up, their intention usually being getting inside your pants, which has happened to you more times than you'd like to admit. And with the argument that she knew you better than anyone, she claimed you would comply right the second someone talked sweet to you; you despised the fact that was the case with Jungkook (and Jungkook only), although he had never shown any sexual innuendos. What your feelings could do to your relationship with Jungkook and your rather chill lifestyle scared you to death, shiver me timbers and all that shit, having romantic feelings for someone else is embarrassing, especially when your chance with them has been scratched out the second you laid eyes on them.

Jungkook sits on your couch, legs spread on your thighs as you two pretend to watch some series on netflix. “I don’t buy for a second the act you’re putting on right now.” he speaks randomly after staring at your deep-in-thought state for a few minutes and laughs when you snap at him for not letting you overthink in peace. “What’s going on?”

Truth is, you don’t fucking know. A few hours before he arrived at your place (you had to pick him up at the dorm and sneak the both of you through the subterranean parking lot, because god forbid someone saw Jungkook arriving at some chick’s dorm on a saturday afternoon) you swore you would be able to conceal whatever emotional turmoil you had going inside of you without compromising your regular behaviour around the man, but when push comes to shove, it’s impossible to keep yourself from wondering how far you could go before that special someone found out what was going on inside of your head.

Jungkook’s phone rings in his pocket with some annoying tone he had downloaded illegally from youtube the same day the company had handed over the device as a gift for him (you still were a little bitter over how they neglected the rest of the staff but you also knew it was kind of impossible for the human kind to just gift a-thousand-dollar-phones to almost five hundred people out of solidarity). “Hyung?” he picks up, still wary of your unusual behaviour, concerned eyes looking at you. “No, uh- i’m with Yugyeom right now.” and your heart shatters into a million pieces.

You have been suspecting for a while that Jungkook is being hesitant to introduce you to his social circle. Although, you’ve tried your best not to take it personal, it is getting harder to resist the urge to ask him what the fuck is up with that. The fact that Jungkook had to lie about the person he was hanging out with broke your ego; he could’ve just said he was with a friend, right? You suddenly feel like you’re fifteen again, when the guy you liked would love you in the dark but pretend he didn’t know you in the light. 

Holding your tears back, you gently push him off and make your way towards the bathroom in the most nonchalant way you could. This is your fault for falling for the nice popular guy in the first place, you remind the reflection staring back at you. Still, as bad as it hurt, there was no way you were going to cry over a stupid boy, let alone when he was literally sat on the next room. He can go fuck himself if he thinks he can just toss this behind as if nothing ever happened.

You text Chaeryeong instead.

“chaery bom bom: i swear to god i gonna throw hands the next time i see the bitch.

chaery bom bom: like who the hell does he think he is? fucking squidward looking asshole.

chaery bom bom: he ain’t even that cute bub, you’ll get over him. i know jinyoung wouldn’t treat you like this”

You sigh. Chaeryeong has been enamored with the idea of you and his former company colleague from GOT7 since the day she met the guy (which was somewhere around ten years ago), and although he was all that, you didn’t like his quiet and cold aura, it intimidated the fuck out of you (Jungkook was the entire opposite of that).

You spray on some perfume just to have an excuse as to why you randomly ran to the bathroom when Jungkook’s inquiring eyes stare as you sit back on the couch, which is exactly what he does. “You done with your call?” you ask, bitter.

Jungkook frowns, a bit taken aback by the sudden question but still unaware of the way his words had made you feel, not even sensing the hostile change in your mood. “Yes, it was one of our managers. He was wondering if I could come back to reshoot some...-thing.”

Okay, now you kind of understand as to why he lied in the first place and to say you feel guilty is an understatement. “I supposed he backed down once you mentioned you were hanging out with Yugyeom.” playfulness makes its appearance on your tone and Jungkook rolls his eyes at you, tongue poking on the inside of his slightly red cheeks.

“Sorry for that” he moves closer and cuddles your arm, like a sad guilty puppy. “It’s just- I don’t want them asking questions''.

You understand. He is a very reserved and private person after all. It took you a bit to crack him open yourself. Plus, you kind of share that trait with him, you’d hate it too if people were constantly on your nerves for the people you decide to hang out with. 

And that’s all it takes to forgive him. Not very cash money of you.

“You better not pull that shit again, though” you shift in his hold and he looks up at you. One look into your eyes and he knows what you mean. “I’ll kick you out.”

After nodding, Jungkook resumes his concentration on the series you picked out for him. Due to your short attention span, you are very picky about what you invest your time in, especifically with audiovisual pieces of media, so Jungkook trusts you whenever you recommend something on very rare occasions. As a matter of fact, Jungkook was busy attacking your kitchen counters for snacks (which you didn’t have) when you mentioned Money Heist. “Munch on some grapes instead” you suggested to soothe his disappointment.

You can’t help but feel a little sad when Jungkook doesn’t refrain from cuddling your arm after pleading to forgive him. You wish you could cuddle him instead, that he would lay his head on your chest as you play with his soft hair, but you recognize there are some things you just can’t have.