#He's the one I want to drown in happiness | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vampireids · 3 days ago

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perfect stranger

summary: lauren reynolds is dead, emily prentiss along with her, and spencer finds himself alone, struggling and in need of company (smut, angst)

warnings: former emily prentiss/spencer reid, exploration of grief, references to addiction and divorce, spencer acts questionably in this but he's struggling so forgive him, reader has some backstory, reader is referred to with she pronouns and wears makeup and a skirt, reader smokes cigarettes, spencer POV (third person limited). very, very angsty.

word count: 7.8k

a/n: the first half of this is quite spencer/emily centric in its themes, but the second half focusses more on the reader character. reader means everything to me and i am cradling her so gently. posting on mobile so let me know if there are any formatting issues!

Three weeks since Emily Prentiss had died and taken half of Spencer Reid with her.

Three weeks.

Three weeks that tasted of ash and bile, where no matter how brightly the sun shone everything still looked grey, where every smile he passed on the street seemed to be mocking him.

He hadn't had an easy life, not by any standard, but even he had been unaware of just how keenly he could hurt, just how painful and violent breathing could be. It was an agony that seemed to persist beyond any capacity a human being could feasibly endure, a constant bleeding wound in the cavity of his chest.

It hadn't been long before daydreams of oblivion took hold of him. Murmurs of a phone number he couldn't forget as hard as he tried sounded in his mind, growing louder and louder as days went by. If he called it, he could remember peace. More crucially, he could forget everything. A call, a deal, a prick, a push, and every screaming agony in his mind could go away. The sweet, muggy bliss of a syringe of dreamless sleep. It would be so easy.

A disapproving voice in his head that sounded uncannily like Emily pleaded with him to resist the allure. She wouldn't want him to submit to the urge. She'd want him to withstand the pain, to feel the burn of grief boldly and without reprieve, to let time heal him with all the swiftness of a wounded sloth.

But it had been Emily who had loved him enough to keep him grounded and sober. And without her, how could he ever be strong enough to do it? The constant craving for quiet had been drowned out by the sounds of her soft sighs as his body pressed against her, by the consuming sensation of her around him and on top of him and in the beating heart in his chest.

And slowly, an idea formed. He couldn't have Emily anymore. But he could find something close enough. Some approximation to act as a temporary sigil to ward off the ghosts at his door. It had been an old coping mechanism he’d turned to in the early days of his sobriety. Nothing was more deadly to an addict than solitude, so he’d sought out company where he could get it, in faceless women in bar bathrooms and parked cars.

It had worked before, and it could work again.

At the very least, it forced him to shower and put on nice clothes, to brush his teeth and hair and remember the feeling of being alive. With his face clean and his body dressed, he could almost pass for human instead of the walking gaping wound he felt like.

The bar was an old favourite of his. The lights were dim and low, the music soft and unobtrusive. It wasn't any kind of high class establishment, but it didn't need to be for his purpose. With any luck, he wouldn't be here long.

He walked to the bar and ordered a neat whiskey. Drinking in his fragile state was unwise, but he needed to feel the burn of it sliding down his throat to remind him he was still capable of feeling anything but grief. After a bracing sip, he took a seat on a barstool and surveyed the milling revellers. They all seemed carefree and happy in a way he resented, drinking and laughing and dancing with one another, lovesick like he’d once been.

One woman caught his eye on the other end of the bar. She was alone, like him. Nursing whiskey neat like him. Seeming just lonely enough to make his own crushing solitude feel less isolating. She noticed him watching her and smiled, a coy edge to it that made heat start to simmer in the core of him.

She wasn't Emily, but she had a similar fire in her eyes, the same challenge in her smile, a striking beauty to her face that stung as much as it excited.

If he could find her beautiful, then beauty was still attainable to him. Things could still be wonderful in some far off life.

He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't notice she'd stood, approaching him and sitting in the stool beside him.

“Waiting for someone?” she asked softly.

Yes, he thought, I’m waiting for Emily, and I’ll be waiting for as long as I live.

But for tonight, he would temporarily cease his waiting. So he smiled, shook his head, and said. “No. Are you?”

She grinned at him, and the expression was so reminiscent of Emily's sly smiles that it hurt. “I was. But I think I found what I was waiting for.”

The line was so cheesy and silly he couldn't help but huff out a laugh. “And what would that be?”

“Someone pretty. Someone who looks like they might have stories to tell.” She tilted her head. “You know anyone like that?”

“I might,” he shrugged. “I’m Spencer.”

She told him her name and he barely heard it but he knew he wouldn't forget it. He knew he was supposed to say something, so he breathed, “that's a beautiful name. It suits you.”

Her smile was like the sun and he almost believed he could feel warm again. “You're not so bad yourself.”

He’d never grown used to accepting a compliment so he ducked his head to hide his face. She was already talking again, saving him from the awkwardness of knowing how to reply.

“What brought you here tonight?”

The truth wasn't something he was ready to share with a stranger. He approximated it with, “I’m looking to feel a little less alone.”

Her hand on his was soft and warm. “What a coincidence. I’m here for the same thing.”

He couldn't fathom someone like her, so beautiful and confident and with such a warm presence, being lonely. So he raised his eyebrows. “You're really wanting for company?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she laughed. “But yes. I am wanting for company. I just moved here.”

“What made you move here?”

“Nothing special about here. I needed to leave my life behind and threw a dart at a map of the states and moved where it landed. Well, technically it landed on Virginia, but I overruled that. This was close enough.”

Needed to leave her life behind.

She'd said it casually, but it was an interesting thing to note. Like him, she was lost, alone, hiding from something. Seeking comfort in the arms of strangers who wouldn’t stick around to fix her messes. He hummed thoughtfully. “Running from something?”

With a shrug, she murmured, “aren’t we all?”

“Most people,” he conceded.

“You?”

“I don’t like to think I am. But I don’t think I’d be here tonight if I wasn’t.”

She smiled at him slightly. He was only just starting to realise what else about the smile reminded him of Emily - the slight undercurrent of sadness to it. “That’s the nice thing about running.” she said after a pause. “Sometimes you look up and realise your feet took you somewhere good without you even realising it.”

“Are you somewhere good?”

“You’ll have to tell me,” she said softly, and leaned forwards, capturing his mouth in a kiss.

It took a moment for his brain to catch up with his situation before he was kissing her back. She tasted like whiskey, fiery and hot and intoxicating. He reached his palm up to rest it on her cheek and she made a soft noise of encouragement, sliding her tongue into his mouth.

The angle of it was awkward, their bodies angled towards each other and hanging off their barstools, but it didn’t make the kiss any less dizzying. It wasn’t Emily, no way to pretend for even a second it was, the taste of her and the shape of her and the feeling of her were all different. But it didn’t matter. It was company, and she was beautiful, and he knew in his heart Emily would want him to do this. She’d want him to find something that would help ease the pain. She would never want him to be lonely.

She pulled away and he gasped.

“Do you want to get out of here?” she asked breathlessly.

He nodded desperately, wrapping his hand around her wrist. “Yes. Please.”

“My place okay?”

“Yes. That’s perfect. Let’s go.”

She picked up her glass of whiskey and motioned for him to do the same. As soon as he did she wrapped her arm around his and linked them at the elbow, holding her drink aloft. It took a second to realise what she wanted, and when he did, he grinned. It was silly, childish, exactly what he needed. She nodded at him and, arms interlocked, they downed their drinks in unison. The liquor burned his throat like a sip of liquid flame and he struggled to keep his mouth neutral as he swallowed, watching as she wrinkled her nose. He couldn’t help his huffed laugh, giddy with the drink and the company.

She led him out of the bar, weaving them around the huddles of drunks and tables of friends in silence, and pounding guilt nestled behind his chest. Three weeks since the death of his lover, and he’d already found his way into the arms of someone else. What kind of man was he? Was his loyalty so thin?

But she turned towards him, glancing back with a mischief in her eyes that was achingly, throbbingly familiar, and he couldn’t make himself pull away.

He wasn’t a man of God. He didn’t believe Emily was watching down on him, in pain at the thought of him with another woman. She was simply gone. He couldn’t live for a ghost he didn’t believe in.

It was all hollow justification, really, convincing himself it wasn’t wrong to do the thing he already knew he would do. Her pulse under his fingertips was thrumming and alive, the sign of a heart that could pump blood and skin that was flush with warmth, and he needed to feel that. He needed to want something that could want him back.

The air was chilled as they stepped outside into the street and he stumbled into her as she came to a sudden stop. She giggled softly and wrapped her arm around him, steadying him and pulling him softly against her. Her body was a column of heat beside him, every breath she took causing her chest to rise and fall against him. Living, living, so alive, something real, something tangible. He’d known this woman all of 10 minutes and he loved her as much as he hated her for simply being alive.

It wasn’t fair on this poor woman, this beautiful woman, this kind woman to be drawing these constant comparisons. That thought, more than any other, almost gave him pause. He vowed to want her for what she was and not what she wasn’t. She was sweet, beautiful, haunted, said he had pretty eyes and looked like someone with stories. She had soft skin and lovely eyes, a smile that held secrets and promises that he wouldn’t get to know. He could want her for that.

She swung out her arm and a taxi pulled in beside them and they stumbled into the taxi, their bodies never leaving each other until she shuffled across the seat to the other side. Even then, her hand stayed on his arm and he revelled in the touch. She leaned forwards to share her address with the taxi driver and they drove into the night, the flickering street lights casting shadows on her face.

He couldn’t help it, he leaned forwards to kiss her again. Her lips were a temporary oblivion, something consuming to drown out the noise of his grief. A comfort in company, a reminder he wasn’t as alone as he felt. The guilt bubbling in his stomach was dulled by the softness of her lips, the gentle movement of her tongue, the sharp bite of her teeth on his lower lip. So different to Emily. Not different enough.

No.

She was her own person.

He pulled away with a gasp, her chest heaving to match his own.

“You’re good at that,” she mumbled.

He moved his thumb across her cheek. “So are you.”

She smiled and kissed him again, and he let himself sink into it, to feel the heat of another person against him, to let the sensations wash over him and through him and stir those familiar desires beneath his skin.

It was a quick taxi to her apartment and then he staggered onto the sidewalk like a man intoxicated. He was dizzy, though he only had the one drink. On a street he’d never been on before despite his years in the city, the buildings unfamiliar, his companion a stranger, and he felt like someone totally different. Someone else. Someone who could be casual and silly and risky and stupid. Not Spencer Reid. Not the grieving man.

His alienation from himself would be frightening if he had the fortitude to care. Instead, he called it a blessing and let his beautiful stranger pull him up the stairs.

Her apartment was four flights up, and by the time they reached her door, he was breathless. She laughed at the pink on his cheeks and he felt a hum of embarrassment course through him.

“Not laughing at you, baby, I promise,” she murmured as she turned to unlock the door. The term of endearment sent something hot running through his veins and his face only got warmer.

The door was pushed open, and she waited for him to enter before shutting it behind her.

Another moment of guilt and hesitation threatened to break him and he drowned it out by pulling her closer and capturing her mouth in a desperate kiss. She made a soft noise of surprise against him before melting into it, bringing her hand up to rest on his shoulder and pressing herself against him. It was soft and sweet and nothing he needed it to be so he deepened it, pressed her against the wall to gain the leverage to kiss her roughly. She let out another low sound of pleasure and it emboldened him, gave him the courage he needed to guide his hand up her thigh and under her skirt, running his fingertips along her hip.

She threw her head back with a soft “fuck,” letting her head rest against the wall as he moved his hand from resting on her hip to tracing over the line of her underwear and brought it down until it was ghosting along her core.

Her softness, pliability, was intoxicating and so different from what he was used to. Emily gave as good as she got, was bared teeth and strength and only going down with a fight. His beautiful stranger seemed happy to let him control the night, and he was grateful for it in that moment, grateful for the opportunity to have the control in the bedroom he’d lost over his life.

She gripped onto his shoulders hard as he pushed the panties aside and ran his fingers over the exposed flesh, spreading the accumulated arousal and circling over the sensitive nub at her apex.

He attached his lips to her neck, grazing his teeth across her collarbone and drinking in the sounds she made as he slowly inserted one finger, and then a second.

“Baby, god, feels so good,” she mumbled above him and the praise went straight to his cock, the taste of her skin against his tongue and the feeling of her around his fingers creating a dizzying cocktail of arousal in his abdomen. He was making her feel good, he was capable of creating pleasure in another, he could do something right even if his life felt wrong and hollow. He clung to that knowledge as he sucked a mark into her neck and basked in her whines.

Years of magic tricks gave him agile hands, a skill at profiling let him read a woman’s pleasure in her gasps and twitches, and it wasn't long before her moans were heightening in pitch and volume and her nails were pressing into his shoulders desperately. He felt a glow of pride as she came undone around him, moaning his name in shaking cadence. He pulled his fingers from her carefully and felt a bolt of arousal at the sight of her, her skirt rucked up around her waist, her cheeks pink and her eyeliner smudged.

“You have wonderful hands,” she murmured after a few moments of loaded silence.

He laughed roughly. “I’ve been told that before,” he mumbled, and didn't mention the woman who’d told him.

“Let me make you feel good too, baby,” she said, and her widened eyes and desperate tone made it sound very much like a plea.

His head was spinning, body alight with lust, too full of want for the guilt to make a dent, and he nodded. He was sick, sick, sick in the head, his agreement a condemnation of himself, and so he nodded.

“Yes. Yes, okay. Let's go to the bedroom,” he tried to speak through the dizzy desire and warring self-loathing and his voice came out thin.

She frowned, eyes big and concerned and placed her hand on his cheek. “Are you okay, baby? You don't have to do anything you don't want to.”

He shook his head almost violently, causing her hand to drop to his shoulder. He felt its absence like a wound. “No. Please. I want this, I want you.”

She still looked hesitant so he kissed her, feeling the tension leave her body as his tongue explored her mouth. The relief of her wordless acquiescence was physical. He needed this, he needed her, he needed his life to dissolve in a melody of moans until he couldn't remember anything but the present, until everything faded but touch and heat and want.

He couldn't bear the weight of his mind alone. She might be a stranger, but he needed her. And curse Emily's voice in his head chiding him softly both for using this poor woman and for so quickly finding solace in the body of another. He was using her, sure, but she was using him too. It wasn’t like she was in love with him, and he wasn’t in love with her either. It was a one night stand, not marriage. And he and Emily had never labelled their relationship, had never been able to communicate well enough to even discuss exclusivity and all of that aside, she was fucking dead so really she’d left him first and didn’t have the right to be judging him.

He was talking so much to the Emily in his head he was starting to remember that he was still in the window for schizophrenia.

He kissed the woman more desperately, drowning out that thought. She made a keening, broken sound against him, and it temporarily brought him to the present.

He took a hold of her wrist, still resting against his collarbone and stumbled back. “Bedroom, please,” he begged, too far gone to be self-conscious of the pleading tone.

She smiled, her pupils blown wide and her lips darkened from the bruising force of the kiss. “Come on, baby.”

She took a stumbling step towards him and he felt a surge of pride he’d taken her apart so thoroughly. He was still a man, after all, and she was a woman, a stupidly beautiful woman he was undeserving of, and it felt good to know he was bringing her pleasure.

He let himself be led like a lamb by its shepherd to her bedroom. It was clean, minimal, the bedroom of a flight risk who didn’t want anything tying them down. No photographs, no personal effects, nothing in the room that didn’t serve a utility.

The profiler in his brain was switched off by her hands moving to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them with nimble fingers. Once his shirt hung loose, her touch moved to his bare chest, tracing across the planes of his torso. He felt unavoidably self-conscious under her scrutiny, but she looked at him with such a heat in her eyes he couldn’t help but know she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

He still wanted to know what demons had led her to him, to seeking solace in the arms of a man she didn’t know, but he shoved the thought down. She was well within her right to want a one night stand, she didn’t have to be damaged just because he was. And besides, she’d started removing her own shirt, and it was hard to think about anything other than her chest, framed by a delicate black brassiere.

She caught his heated gaze because she laughed softly. “Like what you see, baby?”

He nodded stupidly. “God, so much.”

And then she was kissing him, walking him backwards towards the bed where he was all too happy to go.

His knees hit the back of the bed and he dropped onto it, looking up at her as she undid the button fastening her skirt and let it fall to the floor. Her underwear matched the bra, and she wore them well, the lines and curves of her silhouette enough to intoxicate him. He leaned forwards to kiss her abdomen softly and she gasped. Their positioning, her above him with his head against her stomach, was some strange parody of worship. In a way, she was a god to him. He was giving himself as an offering in futile hope of salvation, devoting himself to a beautiful concept of a woman. She was nothing real and everything wonderful. A perfect stranger.

Her hands wove themselves into his hair and he groaned out his oblation into her skin.

“I need you, baby, please,” she whispered into the still air of the room, and he was her willing servant.

He sat back, and before his hands could reach down to unfasten his pants, she was undoing them for him, her fingers trembling as she fiddled with his button and then his fly.

There was something unsettling about her movements, and he stilled. “You okay?” he murmured.

“Yeah. Yeah, just want you,” she mumbled as he shimmied out of his pants.

There was something she wasn’t telling him, but he didn’t have time to ask before she was dropping to straddle his lap, his cock only separated from her arousal by the flimsy fabric of their undergarments. He might have been a genius, but even he found it hard to think about anything much with a woman in his lap, her hips shifting against his and sending his senses into overdrive.

He begged a silent plea of forgiveness to the Emily in his head. She remained stonily silent. He took it as permission and put his hands around the waist of his perfect stranger, using his leverage to twist them both until she was lying beneath him on the bed.

“You’re beautiful,” he said softly, and the tender words felt like more of a betrayal than the sex.

“So are you,” she whispered, and he kissed her gently. The kiss was short, chaste, before his lips were moving - kissing down her jaw, the column of her throat, her chest, her abdomen, her stomach. She gasped softly as he reached the waistband of her panties, and he lingered there just a moment, looking up at the rapt expression on her face.

He noticed, not for the first time, how very sad she looked behind the desire. Maybe she knew he was thinking about someone else. More likely, she was thinking about someone else. It wasn’t his business. He understood what it was like to need to drown out the ghosts.

It was the echo of that thought that played in his head as he slowly pulled down her panties. Drown the ghost, make her feel good, bask in the warmth of another, remember what it means to live and breathe and feel. Simple instructions, a defined victory condition, something black and white and real. He tossed her underwear aside and looked up at her, propped up on her shoulders to watch as he exposed her.

He must have stayed there a moment too long, because she made a soft, plaintive sound and mumbled, “Baby, please. Don’t tease me.”

“Sorry,” he grinned, not sorry at all if it made her call him baby in that desperate, whining voice, and licked a stripe up her core.

She made a harsh, pleading noise at the contact, and he felt it like lightning under his skin. He pushed away the thoughts of the sounds Emily had once made, and moved to suck gently on her clit, summoning more sweet whines from her lips.

Her hands came down to twist in his hair and he groaned against her. He felt hot, shivery, alternating waves of lust and guilt rocking through him like a boat tossed about through the surf. Something about the sheer wrongness of it was only heightening his desire. His grief was getting tangled in his need and his body was turning all of it into heat and want.

Eventually, she gasped raggedly and used her grip on his hair to pull him off of her, looking down at him with eyes turned the inky black shade of lust. “Need you, now, please, baby,” she groaned, and what man could say no to that?

He nodded, dizzy and hazy, and lifted himself onto his knees. “Condom?” he managed to force out through the white noise of his mind, and she sat up to lean over to her bedside drawer, rifling through a little box to pull out a Trojan.

He pulled off his own underwear hastily as she unwrapped it, and hissed as she leaned forwards to roll it onto him. He hadn’t realised how hard he was until her soft hands were ghosting over him, and the touch felt like little lines of fire over his skin. He groaned thickly and let his head fall back as she stroked him experimentally over the latex.

He didn’t want to wait any longer, couldn’t risk being still when the thoughts of everything he was hiding from could come back. Emily was being quiet in his skull, probably furious at his betrayal, but it was still quiet, no voice in his head but his own. So, he gently pushed her back until she was lying against the pillow, and put his weight on one arm as he guided himself to the centre of her arousal. He teased for a bit, sliding his length along her a few times to hear her breath hitch.

Finally, slowly, he pushed in, his eyelids fluttering as he was constricted by the tightness inside of her. It hadn’t even been that long since he’d had sex, but after years of having it almost daily, his body had grown accustomed to a certain frequency, and the tight heat felt like home.

As soon as he was fully immersed inside her, he let out a ragged, hoarse groan. Her own thin whine was in harmony with his, the musicality of their pleasure intertwining as their bodies did.

His vision blurred as he started to move, the friction sending sparks up through his skin as she gasped his name underneath him.

“Oh, fuck, Emily,” he groaned in return.

He didn’t realise what he’d done until she stilled completely under him.

“Emily?” she said quietly.

It was like a bucket of ice water had been thrown over him, every nerve going dead with the shock.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, and it felt so inadequate to the scale of his mistake.

She swallowed under him, her throat bobbing. Something was playing out behind her eyes, something not even years of profiling could clue him into. Eventually, she shook her head, the movement minute.

“It’s okay,” she said softly. “I understand. I can be Emily. If that’s what you need, I can be Emily.”

The words broke his heart. Who was this woman? Who had broken her down to the point she was willing to contort herself to be another woman for a man she’d never met?

He shook his head. “No. You’re not Emily. You’re you, and that’s a good thing to be. Don’t- you don’t- I’m an asshole. My head is a mess right now, it’s nothing to do with you. You’re wonderful, you’re beautiful, you’re kind. I want you.

She smiled thinly and brought her hand up to rest against his face. “It’s okay, baby. It’s one night. I’m whoever you want me to be, okay? Whatever you need. Let me take care of you.”

He groaned slightly, a war in his torso as her words cast a sick sort of spell on him. The person he wanted to be fought the battle, screamed at him that she obviously had her own demons, that he’d be taking advantage of what must be a self-esteem issue, to be allowing him - asking him - to pretend she was another woman. “It’s not right,” he mumbled.

“Does that really matter?” she whispered. “No one’s watching. I’m saying it’s okay.”

“Why?” he said desperately. “Why would that be okay?”

“We’re using each other, that’s all this is, right? I don’t know your life or your last name or your job or your friends, you’re whoever I want you to be tonight. I can be whoever you need me to be. It’s only fair.”

Her words made a strange sort of sense, or maybe he was choosing to believe that to stymie the guilt bubbling behind his ribs. He was using her, plain and simple, no matter whose name he was saying. If she didn’t care, why should he?

Because you’re better than that, the Emily in his head murmured disapprovingly. But who was she to talk when she’d left him all alone, when she’d lied to all of them to follow a terrorist without thinking of the wound she’d be leaving behind. So he nodded. “Okay. Okay. Are you… Do you want me to keep going?”

“Yes. Please,” she said, eyes big and pleading, and he gave only another cursory thought to wondering if she was okay before starting to move again. She wasn’t Emily, there wasn’t really a way to pretend that she was, unless he closed her eyes and that seemed too sick even for him. But the feeling of it all was still so achingly familiar - the heat, the tightness, the slick sounds of bodies connecting and the shaking gasps of pleasure.

He couldn’t pretend she was Emily, but he could pretend he loved her and she loved him. And with the way she looked at him, her jaw slack in ecstasy and her pupils blown with lust, it wasn’t hard. She looked beautiful, genuinely divine in the throes of her desire, in that way people only do at their most unrestrained. He leaned forwards and kissed her, drinking in the sounds she made against his lips and revelling in her hand gripping his shoulder like he was a lifeline, the thread connecting her to reality.

“Baby, oh, baby, I’m close, please, just like that, fuck,” the words were mumbled against his lips, garbled among gasps and soft whines, and it took a moment to decipher what she was saying. But once he’d decoded it, he glowed in his pride.

“Come for me whenever you want to, sweetheart,” he groaned, “Let me make you feel good.”

His tone was tender, fragile, delicate, the words of lovers and not strangers, and maybe that was the fantasy he was fulfilling with her. One where he loved freely and received it in return like he never could with Emily and her shroud of secrets. He’d pretended with her, and he was pretending again now, playing the role like he was born for it.

And when, maybe seconds or years later, her noises climbed in pitch and she tightened around him, he pushed her hair out of her face gently and fucked her like he knew her beyond the feeling of her body and the sounds of her bliss.

Her nails dug into him, and she called him, “baby,” again in that sweet, overwhelmed voice, and it was that which pushed him over the edge to his own undoing, his rhythm faltering and stuttering as he twitched inside of her.

This, the release, the moment where the world stopped and all he could feel was beautiful, perfect pleasure, was why he'd gone out tonight. A simulacrum of hydromorphone all released in one, lovely moment. One addiction swapped for another, oblivions traded. Her hand ghosted back over his cheekbone as he slowed and stopped, his head leaning into her palm as he stilled.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he laughed, breathlessly, smoothing out her hair before pulling out of her with a wince.

She sat up and watched as he tied off the condom. “I know, but I want to. I needed this. Let me take that, I’ll bin it in the bathroom.”

He smiled weakly and handed it to her, watching as she walked into the little ensuite next to the room. She shut the door behind her, and he sat awkwardly for a moment, his nakedness suddenly visceral in the solitude of another person’s bedroom. He stood and found his underwear, discarded next to the bed, shimmying into them as he waited for her to be done. He never knew what to do in this part, never knew the etiquette of the afterglow. Eventually, he heard the toilet flushing and the sound of the tap running, and she emerged from the bathroom clad in a short white satin robe, tied loosely at the waist.

“I’m going to have a cigarette,” she said with a little smile. “Care to join me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” he said, his voice hoarse, and followed her outside to the balcony. It was nice, a wrought iron railing shielding them from falling into the city skyline, two chairs nestled around a small round glass table. On it lay a crystalline ashtray, stained with dead embers, and a small pack of Marlboro Golds.

She sat on the far chair, motioning for him to sit too, and picked up the pack, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it up. She took a long drag and let her head fall back as she exhaled the smoke.

“I know it’s a bad habit,” she said quietly. “But I can’t bring myself to quit.”

He tilted his head as he watched her take another drag. “I used to tell my mother every cigarette she smoked was 6 less minutes she’d get to spend with me.”

“The way I live my life, I’m not expecting that to be an issue,” she shrugged.

“How do you live your life to expect to die young?”

She gestured at him. “Bringing strange men I meet while alone at a bar to my apartment, for one,” she deadpanned, and he couldn’t help his exhale of a laugh.

“Mm, touche, I suppose,” he sighed. “What makes you like it?”

She raised her eyebrows. “The cigarettes or the strange men?”

“Both, I guess.”

“It’s the same reason for both. Makes me feel like I have some control over things. Forces me to… confront my mortality, to get comfortable with the idea of death. It can’t scare me if I’m inviting it.”

He frowned. “You’re suicidal?”

A long pause where she seemed to be thinking, her eyes fixed on the twinkling lights of the city around them. “No. I’m not. But I’ve spent a lot of time living in fear of things that are inevitable, and I’m tired of that.”

He couldn’t help himself from wanting to pry. It was like that, sometimes, in the afterglow of sex. After the intimacy, the bedroom could become a confessional. “What inevitabilities are you scared of?”

She sighed and took another drag of the cigarette. “I married my high school sweetheart a year after we graduated. Our relationship was… fine. Good. He was the only man I’d ever been with, the only one I knew how to be with. Even when I knew he was having an affair, I couldn’t bring myself to let go of him. He was an asshole, sometimes, and a cheat, but sometimes he was so wonderful. He worked and supported us the whole time I was in college, he’d plan these extravagant dates and trips for us, always remembered birthdays and anniversaries. And I’d been with him since I was so young, I didn’t even know who I was if I wasn’t his wife. Even when I knew he didn’t love me anymore and I barely loved him, I stuck around. In the end, he left me. He got the other woman pregnant and owned up to everything I already knew. I didn’t even have the guts to tell him that none of it was news, because I felt so pathetic for tolerating it. That night, I quit my job, threw a dart at a map and moved here. Just like that. I didn’t want to be scared anymore. I wanted to just… live.”

He was quiet for a long time. “I’m sorry,” he said eventually, and it was a pale pleasantry against the scale of her admission.

“It’s okay,” she murmured. “Not like it’s your fault. Just illustrating the point. I knew the relationship was over years before it actually was. But I was so scared of the unknown I refused to admit it. I’m not going to do that anymore.”

“That’s a good philosophy,” he said softly.

She smiled at him, the look stained with melancholy. “Yeah, I like to think so.”

The silence dragged, unobtrusive and comfortable as she ashed her cigarette and lit up a second. “Who’s Emily?” she asked eventually, and he startled.

He watched her hands as she let the cigarette dangle between her fingers. “It’s a long story.”

“I have time,” she pressed. “Story for a story.”

“I have a… stressful job. One where I have to travel a lot. And I had a coworker, Emily. We started sleeping together as a way to let off steam on tough days. I fell in love with her. I think she loved me too. We never said it. She’s a… flight risk, I guess, runs away at the first sign of anything emotionally scary, and any time things between us got too real, she’d freeze me out. I learned to keep my feelings to myself. But I was in love with her. There’s nothing I wouldn’t have done to keep her near me.”

“That’s hard,” his perfect stranger murmured. “Where is she now?"

“She’s dead,” he said flatly, as if keeping the emotions from his voice would stop it from hurting him. “She was murdered.”

“Oh,” she said softly. “Fuck, that’s- I’m sorry. That’s horrible.”

He shook his head, the ugly bitterness in his chest building up and spilling from his mouth. “She knew. She knew he was coming after her, she knew what he was capable of, and she never told me. I could have done something, and she took that chance away from me. And I’m so angry at her, but I can’t be angry at her because she’s gone. What use is it being furious with a ghost?”

“It’s normal to have mixed feelings when a loved one dies, baby,” she says softly. “In a way, she left you, even if she didn’t want to. It’s hard. It’s a breakup with no room for self-reflection and no way to change things. The loss of your future and the shadow over the past. There’s a lot of different stuff going on in your head right now. There’s no wrong way to feel about it all.”

He knew that, was intellectually versed on the complications and machinations of grief. He’d seen all kinds of people in the throes of their losses - mothers who’d lost children when their last words had been in anger, husbands whose wives had stormed out and never made it home to talk it out, children who’d snuck out and returned to find their parents dead. He was acquainted with the intricate weaving of love and guilt and grief, had read every study on managing loss, had sat in the room with countless people in the seconds after learning their loved one had been taken from them.

And yet, there still lingered a revolting feeling of wrongness in his grief. For all that he knew the way he was behaving and feeling and coping was normal - all of it, the sex, the cravings, the depression, the bitter, cruel anger - he couldn't help but sink into the belief he was wrong for all of it.

But the look on her face, wide eyed and earnest, her brows slightly furrowed as she watched him intensely, made him believe her. This was a woman acquainted with loss, he could tell. He didn't have to pry to know that. She understood him in a way the journal articles didn't quite seem to.

Maybe, for all his overreliance on academia to navigate the world, he needed people like everyone else did. Emily had taught him that loving was worth the agony of losing.

He was quiet for a while, thinking through her words.

“Why were you willing to pretend to be her?” he asked.

She pursed her lips. “I liked what we were doing. I didn’t want you to stop. And you seemed like you needed it.”

“That's it? I mean, I called you the wrong name, I would assume that would be a dealbreaker for anyone.”

“I'm not under any illusions about what this was. It was a beautiful thing, but nothing to do with who I am or who you are and what we deserve. Just… people fucking for the sake of it, like they’ve done through all of human history. I wanted it to be good for you, just like I could tell you wanted it to be good for me. It makes it feel better if you're both getting what you want. And I've been a lot of people for a lot of people. It doesn't bother me.”

It still didn't seem quite right to him, but he nodded anyway. He just watched her for a moment, watched the movement of her irises as she looked at the shimmering skyline of the city, the careless elegance of her cigarette drags, the way her robe split over where she crossed her legs to reveal the soft skin of her thighs. She seemed solid in a way he deeply envied, a steady contrast to his own flickering identity.

“Thank you,” he said softly before he even thought the words. “Tonight could have been a bad night. But it wasn't. This has been the easiest night since-” he swallowed, stopping the thought there. “I feel… lighter.”

She made a quiet humming noise in response. “I feel the same. You're a nice person to be around, baby.”

He flushed a little at the endearment, a little token of affection she seemed so at ease sharing. She was a forthcoming person, he was noticing - quick to give. Her thoughts, her kindness, her love. It was an interesting counterweight against a scarcity in her home that spoke to solitude and distance. In just the short time he'd known her, she had shown her share of little contradictions. Clearly self-assured, but willing to pretend to be another woman to please a stranger. Clearly loving, but isolated and lonely.

Before he could stop himself, he said, “I'd like to get to know you better.”

The statement was innocent - he truly meant exactly what he said. She was, in many ways, fascinating to him, and solving her was a welcome distraction from trying to solve his own issues. He liked being around her. But her eyes widened and then crinkled sadly.

“I'm not- you're sweet, baby, and you're handsome, too. Your Emily was lucky to have you. But I'm not ready to be anyone's love anytime soon. And I don’t think you're ready for that either.”

He shook his head. “Oh! No, I didn’t mean- no, I'm not ready for anything like that, I'm- I just meant… I don’t have many friends, or at least friends who didn't know her. And you said at the bar you were lonely too, and I just thought- I'd like to be your friend. If that's okay with you.”

She looked at him for a while, as if trying to find a double meaning behind his irises. Then, wonderfully, she nodded, her lips quirking up at the edges. “I'd like that, baby. Let’s be friends.”

He felt a strange sense of gratefulness bubble in his chest. This could be something good, even if it came from something bad. He held out a hand to shake. “Friends.”

She shook it with a little laugh. “Friends.”

Trying his luck, he added, “And if friends involves doing,” he gestured back towards the bedroom, “that, I wouldn't complain.”

She raised her eyebrows and ashed her cigarette. “Give me a second to brush my teeth and we can demo it, try out our new friendship arrangement?”

He nodded quickly. “Yes. Please. In the name of trial and error, I think we should definitely do that.”

She stood and leaned over to kiss him gently on the forehead. “Wait for me in the bedroom, baby. We've got some friendship to do.”

He watched her go inside. her robe swaying softly with her movements. Emily was quiet in his head, but the silence didn't feel reproachful. He allowed the grief to take hold of him for a second.

And then he followed the perfect stranger inside.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #emily prentiss/spencer reid #spemily

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sanarsi · 2 days ago

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Kinktober Day 12

Handjob

Oberyn Martell x prostitute!f!Reader

Gif credits @iamasaddie

Summary: Oberyn is busy discussing important matters for the kingdom but he can't resist taking care of you as you sit thirsty on his lap. Warnings: +18, MDNI, fingering in front of witnesses, pussy slapping, praising, dom!Oberyn Wordcount: 0,7k An: We're moving on bitches because my writer's block has been going down for now (please, I want to finish this fucking Kinktober by the end of the year. I swear I'll never get into this again). My birthday and the Sleep Token concert are comin up so I'm super happy and everythin in my life is slowly starting to fall into place so that means I'll be able to get back to writing and enjoy it <3

Masterlist and Kinktober Masterlist

You looked at the papers lying on the table. You didn't even try to read them, you just had to focus on something to keep yourself from going crazy.

Sitting on the prince's lap, all you could do was feel.

And now you felt him way too well.

“Oh gods,” you whispered, arching against his chest.

You glanced down to see his fingers slowly rubbing circles over your clit and didn't even dare to say anything, even though you could feel yourself leaking onto his robes.

You bit your lip to control a moan and pushed your hips a little into his hand.

His fingers disappeared immediately and a moment later you felt a slap straight to your pussy. You squealed quietly at the piercing pain and felt heat on your cheeks from embarrassment and excitement.

“Stay still,” he growled, glancing at you before returning to his conversation with the men next to him.

You didn't know what they were talking about but only because you weren't even listening to them. All you could focus on was how his fingers were slowly guiding you towards fulfillment.

You snuggled closer to him and spread your legs more as he gave you the attention you craved.

His fingers returned to slowly massaging your already swollen clit. As always, he did it perfectly. Each movement sent waves of pleasure through your hips, reaching places you had no idea about.

With a grimace of pleasure, you watched as his hand covered your pussy and after a moment, his two fingers sank into your soaked slit. You whimpered as you felt him slowly begin to fuck you.

With each passing second, you were getting closer to heaven, but his movements were too slow to end your torment.

You arched your back, dropping your head onto his shoulder as you drowned in the excessive pleasure that seemed to have no end. Your quiet moans, however, were not ignored and after a moment, you could feel a gentle kiss on your neck before you were once again left at the mercy of his fingers.

There was no shame in you even though several men were watching you, for you only he mattered, the only one who didn't give you as much attention as you needed, as you desired.

You tightened your hand on his thigh, silently begging him to let you end the fight with your own body, which was slowly starting to disobey you. You felt your pussy burn and with it the rest of your body, waves of pleasure passing through it as if you had already come even though you were far from it.

Despite this, you remained silent, knowing that you shouldn't speak. Your only permission was to sit on the prince's lap and humbly accept his caresses. And that's exactly what you did, except that with each subsequent entry of his fingers into your pussy, you were getting worse at controlling your moans.

It didn't escape his attention because after a moment, his touch was once again focused on your clit.

You whimpered when he slowly started massaging your sensitive spot again and you didn't try to fight the burning feeling of an approaching orgasm.

“My prince...” you whispered, barely catching your breath and tensed up, not wanting to break the feeling that was getting closer to your core.

You froze, counting the seconds until waves of pleasure spread through your body, pulsating through your body, bringing you the desired relief.

You moaned loudly, and everyone in the room fell silent, focusing their attention on you.

You panted heavily, trembling on his lap as his fingers gradually slowed their movements, allowing you to descend from the peak to the world of the living.

You smiled blissfully as you felt Oberyn run his nose down your neck to your ear where he placed a gentle kiss.

“Very good,” he praised you while running his fingers over your slit to collecting your juices before plunging them into your mouth. You sucked them in with a purr, licking them clean and only then did the prince's attention return to the matters he had discussed earlier.

But this time he had a satisfied slut on his lap.

Tags: @mattmurdocksdumpy @milly-louise @rosi3ba3z @candlelover @gothcsz @tateypots @chloe302225 @natalieispunk @amyispxnk @mandoloriancookie @libre-sol @alex-does-art-things @xxchumanixx @ch3rryyyyyyyyyy @bbyanarchist @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @ilovejoel-andjavi @uncassettodiricordi @puddles221b @syd-djarin @audie-writes

#sanarsi kinktober 2024 #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x y/n #oberyn martell smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal smut #sanarsi fic #kinktober 2024 #kinktober

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rafesapologist · 6 hours ago

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the setback ─ rafe cameron; part seventeen

summary: it's been two years since your departure from the outer banks and rafe cameron has seemingly convinced himself that he can go on with his life as if you never happened, except now more than ever his addiction is at an all time high. whether he was snorting lines of cocaine at wild parties or drowning himself in alcohol to numb the pain, rafe couldn't escape the memories of you. despite his efforts to bury his feelings, your absence lingered like a shadow, haunting him at every turn. meanwhile, you've been navigating life outside the outer banks, trying to carve out a new path for yourself. but no matter how far you've traveled, the memories of rafe cameron still linger in your heart, leaving you with a sense of unfinished business. as you find yourself facing new challenges and opportunities, you can't help but wonder if fate will eventually bring you back to the place where it all began.

warnings: angst, swearing, fluff

author's note: this series has been a long time coming and i am so happy it has taken off the way it has. i appreciate all the love and support you all have given this story, but we have reached the end. i do not want to overkill this story or beat a dead horse, because the longer it goes on it leaves room for more to happen than i planned for. i plan on pursuing other stories from here but this one will always have my heart because it was my first ever on tumblr. <3

Sofia’s admission hit Rafe like ice water on a fevered brow, jolting him out of his haze with a suddenness that nearly knocked the air from his lungs. The dim, pulsing lights of the club blurred as he shoved through the writhing crowd, his mind teetering on the edge of panic. Every step felt like wading through quicksand, the noise of laughing strangers and the thrum of bass only deepening his disorientation. His chest tightened, his breaths coming short and rapid as the realization of your danger tunneled his vision, choking his throat with an unfamiliar dread.

By the time Rafe burst through the doors and into the humid night air, he was gasping. His hands gripped his knees, his body doubled over as he fought for control, the sharp sting of fear pumping through his veins like a poison. The streetlights cast jagged shadows across the cracked pavement beneath him, their orange glow flickering with every unsteady breath he drew. His heart hammered against his ribs as if it were trying to tear free, every pulse of it screaming a warning that reverberated through his entire being.

His thoughts came in fragmented bursts, spiraling—she’s in danger—a relentless echo. He pictured you, vulnerable, caught in some trap his father had set. His mind spun with worst-case scenarios, each more terrifying than the last, while the terror of losing you drove him to the brink of collapse. A wave of nausea hit him, but he forced it back, squeezing his eyes shut and swallowing down the panic threatening to unravel him.

He couldn’t lose you. Not now. Not like this.

Standing upright, Rafe ran a shaky hand through his disheveled hair, the night air doing nothing to cool the heat surging beneath his skin. The world outside the club seemed to spin in slow motion, people passing by oblivious to the storm raging within him. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to focus, adrenaline igniting something feral and primal in his chest. He knew only one thing: he had to find you, and there wasn’t a second to waste.

Rafe’s eyes darted wildly around the street as he paced, his mind racing with chaotic thoughts that he struggled to piece together. His fingers raked through his dirty blond hair, pulling at the strands in frustration, his heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribcage. Every muscle in his body was tight with anxiety, and he could feel his pulse throbbing in his temples. He had to calm down—he knew that. But the fear gnawed at him, relentless, pulling him deeper into a spiral.

Get it together. Focus. He whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the rush of his own breathing. The thought of you being in danger sent another wave of panic through him, but he forced himself to push it down. Now wasn’t the time to fall apart. He couldn’t afford to. Not with you on the line.

The idea of getting in his truck crossed his mind, but the very notion of driving in the state he was in felt like a death sentence. His body still buzzed with the remnants of coke and alcohol, the drugs pulsing through his bloodstream, clouding his judgment. If he got behind the wheel now, it would be reckless, maybe even fatal. And then there was Topper—no help at all, slumped somewhere back in the club, likely even more wasted than Rafe was. No, he was on his own. Or at least he thought he was.

Then it hit him like a bolt of clarity: Barry.

He grimaced at the thought, but desperation left him with no other choice. Barry was the last person he wanted to rely on, the kind of person you only called when things were far past the point of no return. But that’s exactly where he was now—past the point of no return. If anyone had the connections, the means to track down his father or whatever shady plot Ward had concocted, it would be Barry.

Rafe’s phone trembled in his hand as he pulled it out of his pocket, the screen blurry as he scrolled through his contacts. His fingers hesitated above Barry’s name, but he took a breath and tapped the call button. The dial tone seemed to stretch on forever, each ring tightening the knot of anxiety in his stomach.

Finally, a gravelly voice answered on the other end. “Rafe? The hell you callin’ me for at this hour?”

Rafe swallowed hard, his voice strained as he spoke. “I need your help, Barry. It’s… it’s about my dad. And it’s about her.”

There was a pause on the line, a low chuckle from Barry that sent a chill down Rafe’s spine. “This better be worth my time, Cameron. You know how I work.”

“I know,” Rafe gritted his teeth, feeling the weight of the situation settle even heavier on his shoulders. “Just meet me at the docks. I’ll explain everything.”

With that, he hung up, his jaw clenched as he stuffed the phone back into his pocket. His hands were shaking again, but this time it wasn’t just from fear—it was anger. Anger at his father, anger at Sofia, anger at the world for putting you in this mess.

Rafe’s feet pounded against the pavement, the night air sharp against his flushed skin. His vision tunneled once again, the world around him reduced to nothing but a blur of shadows and streetlights. His breath came in ragged gasps, the sting of adrenaline burning in his lungs, but he couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t. His legs carried him forward with reckless speed, driven by the sheer force of desperation.

The dock wasn’t far, but it felt like miles as he sprinted down the road, heart hammering in his chest. Maybe it was the cocktail of substances still coursing through his veins, or maybe it was the raw fear gnawing at him, but he ran like his life depended on it.

No, not his life—yours.

Every thought, every heartbeat, was consumed by the image of you in danger, your face flashing before his eyes as he pushed himself harder. The world around him felt surreal, distorted, like a fever dream where time slowed and sped up at random. The night sky seemed to tilt above him, the ground swaying beneath his feet, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t.

The familiar smell of saltwater hit his nose as he neared the dock, the wooden structure looming ahead, dimly lit by a few flickering lamps. His steps faltered for just a second as he spotted a figure leaning against one of the posts, the outline unmistakable even from a distance. Barry.

Rafe forced himself to slow down, his heart still racing as he approached. He could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him like a vice, but there was no turning back now. He needed answers. He needed you safe.

Barry lifted his head as Rafe came into view, his smirk visible even in the low light. “You look like shit, Cameron.”

Rafe's words came out in a frantic rush, barely coherent as his panic clawed its way to the surface. His breath was uneven, and his eyes, wild with desperation, darted toward Barry with an intensity that made it clear how urgent this was. “We have to find Y/N. I need you to help me find her, please, I—”

Barry narrowed his eyes, exhaling another lazy stream of smoke, clearly enjoying watching Rafe unravel. "Whoa, slow down," he said, his voice thick with amusement, like he was savoring Rafe's desperation. "You're all worked up for what? A girl? I thought you'd grown a spine by now."

Rafe took a step closer, fists clenched at his sides, his voice strained as he tried to steady himself. “This isn’t a joke, Barry. My dad’s involved. Sofia’s involved. They’re coming after her, and I can’t—” his voice broke for a moment, "I can’t let them hurt her."

Barry tilted his head, flicking the cigarette butt onto the ground and grinding it under his heel. “Ward’s always got his hands in some deep shit, doesn’t he?” His smirk widened, but his eyes sharpened with interest. “So, you’re saying there’s trouble. Sounds like a dangerous game, Rafe. How do I know your daddy won't turn around and fuck me over next?"

Rafe’s jaw tightened as Barry’s smirk deepened, the question lingering like a taunt. He knew Barry wasn’t the type to jump into anything without weighing the risks—especially when it involved the Camerons. Taking a shaky breath, Rafe tried to steady himself, to present some semblance of control. "Because I’ll make sure it doesn’t. This is on me, not you. I just need your help."

Barry let out a low chuckle, amused by Rafe's desperation. "Oh, so now you're the hero? What makes you think you can keep me out of the crossfire when your whole family’s knee-deep in it?"

Rafe ran a trembling hand through his dirty blond hair, feeling the weight of the substances in his system pulling him down. "You won't be on the radar. My dad won’t even know you're involved. This is between me and him. Sofia’s already in, so you’ve got leverage."

Barry’s expression shifted, the smirk fading as he considered the offer. His fingers drummed against his side, eyes studying Rafe. “Leverage, huh? Sounds like you’re neck-deep in something nasty. And if it backfires...”

“It won’t,” Rafe interrupted, his voice sharp and pleading all at once. "I’ll make sure it doesn’t."

Barry stared him down for a long moment, weighing his options. Finally, he flicked a glance at Rafe, sizing him up. “Alright,” he said, his voice slow, calculating. “But if this does turn sideways, I’ll bury you before Ward even gets a chance. You hear me?”

Rafe nodded quickly, the words slicing through his panic. "Yeah, I hear you. Just help me find her."

"Well alright," Barry sighed almost in defeat, his shoulders slumping as he turned his heel, motioning Rafe to follow, "let's get goin'."

Rafe let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his pulse still racing but with a flicker of hope now threaded through the fear. He quickly followed Barry to the beat-up truck, the gravel crunching under their feet. The night air felt heavy, thick with the tension of what they were about to do.

Barry opened the driver’s side door, glancing back at Rafe with a half-smirk. “Get in. And try not to puke in my truck, yeah?”

Rafe ignored the jab, climbing into the passenger seat as Barry started the engine. The old truck roared to life, and they took off down the road, the headlights slicing through the dark.

As they sped away from the dock, the inside of the truck was filled with the low hum of the engine and the rattling of loose parts. Rafe stared out the window, his mind spinning with thoughts of you. Every second that passed felt like an eternity, the knot in his stomach tightening with every mile. He couldn’t stop imagining what his father might do, or what Sofia’s resentment might lead to.

Barry, sensing Rafe’s silence, glanced over, his eyes flicking between the road and his passenger. “So, what exactly does your daddy have planned this time?” he asked, voice casual, but there was a sharpness behind it.

Rafe didn’t answer right away, his jaw clenching as he replayed the chaotic events of the past few days. Ward’s betrayal, Sofia’s confession, the looming threat that seemed to press down on him like a weight he couldn’t shake.

“I don’t know all the details,” Rafe finally muttered, his voice tight with frustration. “But it’s bad. Real bad.”

Barry raised an eyebrow, his hands steady on the wheel as they sped down the dimly lit road. “Define ‘bad,’ Rafe. You’re talkin’ like your old man’s about to blow up the island or somethin’.”

Rafe shook his head, running his hand through his disheveled hair. “He put a hit out on her. On y/n.” His voice cracked slightly, as if saying it out loud made the threat even more real. “He thinks she’s tied up with John B and the Pogues, thinks she’s some kind of liability. But she’s not, Barry. She’s innocent.”

Barry let out a low whistle, shaking his head slowly. “Ward Cameron never could tell the difference between business and personal, could he?”

The truck hit a bump in the road, but neither of them flinched. The silence stretched, the gravity of the situation settling between them like a storm cloud.

“So, you’re up against Ward now,” Barry said, glancing sideways at Rafe again. “Man, you’ve got balls. Most people would’ve run for the hills by now.”

“I’m not running,” Rafe snapped, his anger flaring up again. “I’m not letting him ruin her life like he’s ruined mine.”

Barry grinned, the corners of his mouth tugging up in that familiar, crooked way. “Alright, man. I’m in. But just know, whatever comes next—it’s gonna get ugly.”

Barry's truck roared down the deserted streets, the engine's growl a constant, urgent reminder of the time slipping away. Rafe sat in the passenger seat, his fingers gripping the edge of his seat, knuckles white and strained. The road stretched out before them like an unending ribbon of asphalt, the dim streetlights casting long, flickering shadows that seemed to dance with his growing panic.

Every minute felt like an eternity as they drove through familiar yet alien landscapes. They passed by the docks, the bars, and the places you’d once frequented. Rafe's eyes darted around, desperately scanning for any sign of you, but the night remained stubbornly indifferent. The neon signs of local bars blurred into a chaotic smear of color, each one a reminder of how many places he had searched and how many hours had slipped by.

“Damn it!” Rafe yelled, his voice cracking with frustration. He punched the dashboard with a force that made the truck’s interior shudder but didn’t quite break anything. His breath came in short, ragged bursts as he tried to keep himself calm, but the fear that something terrible might happen to you was relentless.

Barry's eyes flickered over to Rafe, a mix of concern and impatience etched on his face. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, the knuckles on his hands turning a stark white. “Look, we’ve been driving around for half an hour, hitting all your usual spots. There’s no sign of her,” Barry said, his voice steady but edged with frustration. He glanced at Rafe, who was staring out the window with a look of desolation.

Barry’s gaze shifted back to the road, then to Rafe. “Alright, look, why don’t we just show up at John B’s and ask ‘em where she’s at? I mean, it won’t hurt to check. We might find something there.”

Defeat etched over Rafe's features as he slumped down into the passenger's seat, momentarily peering over at Barry as if he was contemplating his suggestion. Everywhere else seemed to be a bust, therefor it was the only option left for him to go. "Alright," he sighed, throwing his hands up, "let's go."

Barry's eyes softened with a hint of empathy as he observed Rafe's expression. The stark contrast between Rafe's usually confident demeanor and the current look of defeat was jarring. Without a word, Barry turned the truck around, the vehicle's headlights slicing through the night, leading them back toward familiar terrain.

The road felt endless under the truck’s tires, each mile stretching out with agonizing slowness. The lights of bars and shops, once vibrant and promising, now seemed to mock Rafe’s anxiety with their indifferent glow. He sat in the passenger seat, his gaze fixed on the window, eyes following the blur of passing streetlights and shadows.

As they approached the chateau, Rafe’s mind raced. The enormity of the situation pressed down on him, the fear for your safety overwhelming every other thought. Barry parked the truck outside John B’s place, the vehicle’s engine rumbling to a stop. The street was quiet, the only sounds being the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze and the distant hum of a late-night radio.

Rafe glanced over at Barry, his face drawn and weary. “Thanks for doing this,” he said, his voice heavy with gratitude and exhaustion. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before they approached the front door.

Barry nodded, giving Rafe a reassuring pat on the shoulder before stepping out of the truck. They walked up the path to the house, the porch light casting long shadows that danced with their footsteps. The door loomed ahead, a barrier to answers and perhaps, hope.

Rafe hesitated for a moment, then raised his hand and knocked. The sound of the knuckles hitting the wood was sharp and clear, breaking the silence of the night. The minutes felt like hours as they waited, the anticipation almost unbearable. Rafe shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his mind replaying every possible scenario.

Finally, the door creaked open, revealing a groggy John B with disheveled hair and a puzzled expression. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of Rafe and Barry standing on the doorstep.

“Rafe?” John B’s voice was a mix of confusion and concern. "What are you doing here?"

Rafe’s voice trembled with urgency as he stepped into John B’s living room, his eyes scanning the space frantically. His gaze darted around, searching for any sign of you. “I need to find y/n. Is she here?” he asked, his voice laced with desperation and a tinge of fear.

John B’s expression shifted from surprise to a mixture of concern and secrecy. “No, she’s not here.” He swallowed thickly, his gaze darting away briefly as if grappling with something unspoken. His demeanor was tense, a stark contrast to his usual easygoing nature.

Rafe’s pulse quickened. “What do you mean? Where is she? John B, I need to know.”

John B hesitated, his face a mask of conflicted emotions. “Look, Rafe, there’s more to this than you realize. We’re trying to protect her. Ward’s threats— they’re serious. If we don’t keep her hidden, things could get worse.”

Rafe’s eyes widened, panic and anger mixing in his gaze. “What the hell are you talking about? You’re hiding her? Why wouldn’t you tell me? She’s in danger, and I need to find her!”

John B’s face hardened with resolve. “We’re hiding her because it’s the safest place for her right now. Ward’s dangerous, and if he gets a whiff of where she is, it could end badly. I know you’re desperate, but honestly, you’re the last person who should see her right now. You’re the reason she and all of us are in this.”

Rafe’s eyes widened, his heart pounding in his chest. “Don’t you dare say I did this to her.” His voice cracked with a mixture of outrage and anguish.

John B’s expression softened for a moment, but his resolve remained firm. “He’s your dad, Rafe.”

The words hung heavily in the air, cutting through the tension like a knife. Rafe’s face contorted with a mix of pain and frustration. “What does that have to do with anything? You think I’m just going to sit back and let him hurt her? I don’t care who he is—he’s not going to touch her.”

John B’s gaze was steady, though there was an undercurrent of sorrow. “It’s not about who he is. It’s about what he’s capable of. He’s dangerous, and you’re right in the middle of it. That makes it harder for us to protect her if you’re involved.”

Rafe’s fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles white. “So, what am I supposed to do? Just sit around and wait? I can’t do that. I need to find her.”

John B stepped closer, his tone firm yet sympathetic. “I get that you want to help, but right now, the best thing you can do is stay away. We’ve got a plan to keep her safe, and bringing you into it could complicate things further. You need to focus on dealing with Ward.”

Rafe wasn't simply going to let it go, not when it involved your wellbeing. His frustration began bubbling higher and higher, his anticipation eating away at him as time passed. John B's refusal to give up your whereabouts only complicated things for Rafe further, leaving him to feel like he was backed into a corner waiting for a war to erupt. He knew John B was not one to back down when he stood his ground, but neither was Rafe.

"Look John B, I know we have never gotten along and probably never will, but for just this instance can you please just put that aside and at least give me a clue to where she could be? I've looked at every corner of the Cut and you guys are my only chance to figure out where she is."

John B's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing as he considered Rafe’s plea. "You think I’m just going to give her up? After everything?" His voice was sharp, defensive.

Rafe stepped closer, his frustration boiling over. "I’m not asking you to trust me, or even forgive me. I just need to know that she’s safe. Ward’s not going to stop, John B. And if I can’t find her, he will."

John B's hardened expression faltered for a moment. He could see the desperation in Rafe's eyes—the desperation of someone who was genuinely afraid for you. Still, he shook his head, taking a breath as he crossed his arms. "Rafe, I don’t trust you. And I don’t trust that you won't lead your dad straight to her, even if you don’t mean to."

Rafe’s shoulders slumped in defeat, his voice cracking as he spoke. "I would never let him touch her. I’m trying to protect her—same as you. I just—" His voice wavered, barely a whisper. "I can't lose her."

John B hesitated, his brow furrowing as he watched Rafe. There was something different in his voice, something more genuine than he’d expected. He wasn’t used to seeing Rafe like this—vulnerable, pleading. It made him hesitate.

"She’s safe," John B finally said, his tone quieter now. "But that’s all you need to know. You need to back off. The more you push, the more danger you put her in."

Rafe’s frustration flared again, but he swallowed it, knowing that arguing more would get him nowhere. He stared at John B for a moment longer, feeling the helplessness creeping up on him. "Just… just tell her I’m trying to help. Please." His voice broke on the last word.

John B nodded stiffly, his expression unreadable. "We’ll make sure she knows," he said, turning to walk back toward the house. "But you need to leave this alone, Rafe. For her sake."

Rafe swallowed hard, the fear and frustration mixing with a sense of helplessness he hadn’t felt in years. "I don’t know how to walk away from this," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "I can’t just leave her in danger."

John B’s gaze softened, and he took a step closer, lowering his voice. “You love her, don’t you?”

Rafe’s throat tightened, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He looked away, staring at the floor as he nodded slowly. “Yeah,” he whispered. “I do.”

A silence settled over the room, heavy with unspoken words. Finally, John B placed a hand on Rafe’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze. “Then trust us,” he said quietly. “Trust me. We’re on the same side here.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Rafe had never been good at handling silence, and the last three weeks had felt like an eternity. He’d made it through plenty of rough patches before, but this time was different. There was an emptiness he couldn’t shake—a nagging, constant fear gnawing at him from the inside out. The usual distraction tactics weren’t working anymore.

He'd spend hours at the golf course with Topper and Kelce, making small talk about future trips and complaining about the latest club drama. But every time he lined up a shot, his mind wandered back to you. He could see you in his peripheral vision, your smile, your laugh—always just out of reach. Even at the Pelican Yacht Club, with its sun-drenched decks and cool sea breeze, he found no comfort. He'd sit there with a drink in hand, zoning out as his friends talked about plans for the next regatta. It felt like they were in another world, one he couldn’t access.

Rafe had told himself you were with the Pogues, hiding out, and that they were probably getting into their usual reckless trouble. At least if you were with them, you weren’t alone. It should’ve been enough to reassure him, but it wasn’t. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself, he knew that if Ward had any idea where you were, he’d already have made a move. The thought made him nauseous. Ward was gone too—radio silent. It wasn’t like his father to stay off the grid this long, and the eerie stillness around his disappearance made Rafe’s skin crawl.

Every time his phone buzzed, his heart would leap into his throat. He'd drop whatever he was doing, half expecting your name to light up his screen. But it never was. It was always Topper asking about plans for the night, Kelce wanting to hit the links again, or one of the Kook girls trying to make conversation. He was slipping—losing his grip on his usual cool demeanor. His patience had worn thin, and the smallest annoyances set him off. He could feel his friends’ stares when they thought he wasn’t looking, exchanging concerned glances behind his back.

“What’s with you, man?” Topper had asked him last night, standing on the deck of the club, his voice low so the others wouldn’t hear. “You’ve been out of it lately.”

Rafe had forced a smile, brushing it off with a shrug. “Just family stuff,” he’d said, offering no further explanation. Topper didn’t press, but the worry in his eyes lingered, as if he could see the cracks forming in Rafe’s facade.

In moments of quiet, when the noise of the club died down and the laughter from the other tables faded into background chatter, Rafe felt the crushing weight of his own powerlessness. He didn’t know where you were, if you were safe, or if you were thinking about him at all. And the thought of you being hurt—or worse, alone and afraid—made him want to tear apart the entire island until he found you.

It had never been like this before. He’d never cared so deeply for someone that their absence felt like a physical wound. And now, with both you and his father missing, Rafe felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, the ground crumbling beneath his feet.

He pulled out his phone again, his fingers hesitating over your contact. He hadn’t called you in weeks, not since the last time you’d spoken—the argument you’d had before you disappeared. He wanted to hear your voice, to know that you were okay, but he was afraid you wouldn’t pick up. Afraid you would, and he wouldn’t know what to say.

In the end, he just stared at your name on the screen, his thumb hovering over the call button. He hated how weak he felt, how much he needed you. With a frustrated sigh, he shoved his phone back into his pocket and ran a hand through his hair, staring out at the horizon.

Rafe couldn’t stand the noise anymore. The laughter, the clinking glasses, the mindless chatter—it all grated on him like nails on a chalkboard. He clenched his jaw, feeling the tension building in his chest, and before he could talk himself out of it, he pushed back his chair and stood up abruptly.

"I'll catch you guys later," he said, his voice flat.

Topper and Kelce exchanged puzzled looks, caught off guard by his sudden departure. "You good, man?" Kelce called after him, but Rafe didn’t even bother to turn around. He gave a half-hearted wave over his shoulder as he made his way out of the club, ignoring the murmurs of confusion from the group behind him.

He needed to be alone, away from the forced smiles and meaningless conversations. He needed to escape the pressure building inside him like a storm ready to break. His feet carried him quickly to his truck, his hands already fumbling for his keys as he approached. The second he got inside, he slammed the door shut and let out a long, shaky breath.

For the first time all day, he felt a sliver of relief. The silence of the truck enveloped him, offering a brief respite from the chaos swirling in his mind. He leaned back against the seat, staring at the steering wheel as he tried to gather his thoughts. It was the first quiet moment he’d had in weeks, and he felt like he could finally breathe.

He pressed his palms to his eyes, as if the pressure could somehow force the pain out of his head. The knot in his chest tightened when he thought of you—where you were, if you were safe, if you even missed him. He was used to feeling in control, to having answers, but right now, he felt like he was spiraling, clutching at straws to make sense of it all. And then there was Ward's disappearance, which left an eerie silence hanging over his life, amplifying his uncertainty tenfold.

After a few minutes, he exhaled deeply, starting the truck. The engine’s rumble filled the air, grounding him in the moment. He pulled out of the lot and headed back home, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. He needed to get away from it all, to shut the world out until he could figure out how to mend the mess inside him.

As he drove, the familiar scenery of Figure Eight blurred past him, the golden hues of the setting sun casting long shadows on the road. It was a drive he’d made a thousand times, but today it felt different. The wind blowing through the open windows didn’t bring its usual comfort; it only reminded him of how empty everything felt without you by his side.

When he pulled into the long driveway of his family’s estate, the house loomed before him, its white facade glowing in the fading light. It was eerily quiet. He cut the engine and sat there for a moment, staring at the mansion he’d grown up in. It was supposed to feel like home, but right now, it felt like a prison—a stark reminder of everything that was slipping through his fingers.

He made his way inside, letting the door click shut behind him. The silence of the house was suffocating. Rafe threw his keys on the table and headed up the stairs to his room. He shut the door behind him, leaning against it as he took in the familiar sight of his space. It felt just as empty as everything else.

He sank down onto the edge of his bed, dropping his head into his hands. For once, he didn’t try to push the feelings away. He let them wash over him—the fear, the frustration, the longing. He knew he couldn’t hide from it anymore. You were gone, his father was missing, and everything was falling apart.

He squeezed his eyes shut, whispering into the darkness of his room, “Where are you?” The words were a plea, a question directed at you, even though he knew you couldn’t hear him. He just hoped that, wherever you were, you were thinking of him too.

Rafe's chest tightened, and the room seemed to shrink around him as his emotions threatened to boil over. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back the tears, but they welled up regardless, turning his vision blurry. His eyes became red and glossy, the ache in his heart growing unbearable with every passing second. It was like a ghost of you lingered in the room, haunting him with memories he couldn’t escape—your laugh, the way you’d look at him, the feel of your hand in his. Now, all he felt was emptiness.

He couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that this was his fault. He had made a grave mistake, he was sure of it. If only he had kept a closer watch, if only he had been more careful, maybe you wouldn’t be in danger now. The thought of you being out there, vulnerable and alone, tore him apart. He could almost see you, scared and needing him, but no matter how hard he tried to reach out, you slipped further away from his grasp.

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered, his voice cracking as he bit down on the words. The apology felt hollow, echoing back at him in the empty room. He wanted to scream, to punch something, to make the pain stop—but he was trapped in this limbo of not knowing, of being helpless. And for someone like Rafe, who thrived on control, the helplessness was its own special kind of torture.

His hand tightened around his phone, his knuckles turning white as he gripped it like it was the source of all his pain. In a sudden burst of frustration and grief, he hurled it across the room. It hit the wall with a sharp crack, then fell to the floor, the screen shattering into pieces. For a moment, the silence after the impact felt almost comforting. He stared at the wreckage, chest heaving, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

But the brief satisfaction faded quickly, replaced by a hollow ache. He started pacing, the walls closing in on him as his thoughts spiraled out of control. His mind raced with all the worst-case scenarios, images of you hurt or scared flashing in his head. He ran his hands through his hair, tugging at it as if the pain could snap him out of this nightmare.

“Dammit!” he shouted, his voice breaking with a mixture of anger and desperation. He felt like he was losing it. He needed to do something—anything—but there was nowhere to go, no one to fight, and no way to find you. He was stuck, and it felt like drowning in quicksand.

Rafe stopped pacing, leaning against the wall as his body sagged under the weight of it all. His fingers dug into the plaster as he tried to ground himself, taking deep, shuddering breaths to calm the storm raging inside. The tears he had been holding back spilled over, streaking down his cheeks. He wasn’t used to this—crying, feeling this vulnerable. It made him feel weak, and he hated it. But right now, he couldn’t help it. He felt broken, shattered like the phone on the ground, and the pieces were too scattered to put back together.

He slid down the wall, sitting on the floor with his head in his hands. He couldn’t escape the thought of you—your smile, the way you’d look at him like he was more than just a Cameron, more than just the troubled son of Ward. He hadn’t realized how much he needed you until you were gone. And now, he was left with nothing but the crushing guilt that he had failed to protect you.

Rafe’s breath hitched as he heard the knock echo through the house, slicing through the heavy silence. He froze, wiping his tears quickly and forcing himself to compose. He hadn’t spoken to anyone in hours, and he certainly wasn’t expecting company. The confusion quickly morphed into paranoia. He clenched his jaw, his eyes darting to the front door. His mind raced, imagining who it could be. His father? Back from wherever he’d disappeared to, ready to follow through on his threats? The thought alone sent a chill down his spine.

He needed to be ready.

Rafe’s gaze shifted to his bedside table, where the knife gleamed under the dim light. He reached for it, gripping it tightly in his hand, finding some comfort in the cold metal pressing into his palm. He moved cautiously, his steps light and silent, like a predator stalking prey. As he descended the stairs, every creak of the old wood sounded like a gunshot in his ears, making his heart hammer against his ribs. He held his breath, trying to keep quiet as he approached the door, his pulse throbbing in his throat.

He reached the bottom of the steps, his eyes locked on the door. It was slightly ajar, as if whoever was outside had hesitated, not yet willing to push their way in. Rafe moved closer, his back pressed against the wall, knife held at the ready. He strained to listen, trying to pick up any hint of who it might be on the other side. He didn’t hear much—just the faint sound of someone shifting their weight, maybe a shaky breath. His grip on the knife tightened, his knuckles turning white as he mentally prepared himself for an attack.

With a deep, steadying breath, he reached for the doorknob. His fingers trembled as they wrapped around the cool metal, twisting it slowly. He pulled the door open just a crack, peeking through the small sliver to catch a glimpse of whoever was on the other side. He gulped, his throat dry, as he took in the figure standing in the dim porch light.

Rafe's breath hitched as he stared at you, feeling a wave of emotions he couldn't quite place. Relief, disbelief, anger, and something else he couldn’t name all swirled together, leaving him speechless for a moment. His hand trembled, the knife still held in a death grip at his side. He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. He just stood there, taking you in like he was trying to convince himself you were real and not some figment of his imagination.

"Y/N?" he whispered, voice cracking. It was as if saying your name aloud might break the fragile spell of the moment. He’d pictured this reunion a thousand times—what he’d say, how he’d react—but now that you were actually here, all those plans evaporated. He felt paralyzed, his eyes scanning you up and down, searching for any sign of harm.

But you looked...fine. Unscathed. Healthier than he'd expected. It threw him off completely. He’d been imagining the worst for weeks, thinking you were in danger, or worse—hurt. Yet here you were, standing on his porch, seemingly calm and collected.

Rafe’s shoulders slumped, his posture collapsing under the weight of all the worry he'd carried. He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, feeling the knife slip from his fingers and clatter to the floor. He didn’t even care. He just took a step closer, his eyes fixed on yours, desperate to make sense of what was happening.

“What the hell, Y/N?” he croaked out, his voice breaking. “Where have you been? Why—” He cut himself off, shaking his head as he raked a hand through his hair. “Why didn’t you tell me you were okay?”

“I’m tired of hiding, Rafe,” you said flatly, your voice carrying a strange calmness in the chaos of his thoughts. “Nobody else knows that I’m here. I left without telling them.”

Rafe’s brow furrowed in confusion, his mind trying to connect the dots. His heart still pounded in his chest, the weight of everything he’d been through over the past few weeks making it hard to focus. “I... I don’t get it. I thought you hated me because of all of this. I don’t get why—why you’re here.” His voice was shaky, filled with uncertainty as his gaze darted between you and the ground, as if the truth might be hiding in the space between.

"I never hated you," you said, your voice surprisingly steady. You met his gaze head-on, your eyes unflinching, though there was an underlying tension in your shoulders. "I did what I had to do to stay safe."

Rafe's brows furrowed as he processed your words, a painful confusion swirling inside him. "Why didn’t you call me? Why did you disappear without telling me where you were?" His voice cracked with the strain of his emotions. Every inch of his body screamed for answers, for the clarity he'd been missing for weeks.

You stood there, taking a deep breath before answering, the calmness in your voice betraying the storm brewing in your chest. "Because I didn’t want you to come looking for me. Ward knew you would be wherever I was, and I couldn’t risk it."

The words hit Rafe like a punch to the gut, and he felt his world tilt for a second, the weight of your actions now making sense, but only in the way that left him struggling to breathe. He didn’t know how to feel. His hands tightened at his sides, fists clenching as the frustration built up inside him.

"Of course I would look for you, Y/N," Rafe finally choked out, his voice rough with emotion. "I had to make sure you were safe, and it was killing me having to just sit here and hope you were protected."

Your gaze softened, the conflict in your eyes clear as you watched him struggle with the words. You could see the hurt, the years of worry in his eyes, and it made your heart ache in return. But there was something else there too—something you couldn't ignore any longer.

"I know, and I’m sorry." Your voice came out quieter, more fragile, as if it hurt you just as much to say those words. "But I don’t want to do this anymore. No more games, no more hiding, no more danger."

Rafe’s breath caught in his throat as he took in your words, his chest tightening. His first instinct was to reach for you, to pull you into his arms and keep you safe, to make up for the weeks of fear and confusion. But there was something else behind your words, a finality that stopped him in his tracks. He stared at you, disbelief and pain mixing together.

"What do you mean, Y/N?" His voice cracked again, and he fought to steady himself. "What do you mean, 'no more hiding'?"

You took a deep breath, stepping forward slightly, your posture firm but vulnerable. "I mean I want to stop running. I want to stop being afraid. I’ve been through enough, Rafe. And I don’t want to keep living in the shadows, waiting for the next threat to come."

Rafe’s eyes softened, a mix of guilt and understanding crossing his features. He wanted so badly to fix things, to make everything right, but the weight of what you were asking him to do loomed heavy between you both. The past few weeks, the pain, the fear—it was all more than he knew how to handle. But looking at you, standing there, finally free of the fear that had controlled you, he knew what he had to do.

Rafe’s heart hammered in his chest as he processed your words. His mind raced, but the ache in his chest intensified. "What do you want to do, Y/N?" he asked, the rawness in his voice betraying the vulnerability he couldn’t hide.

You didn’t hesitate. Your expression was steady, determined. “I want to leave this place,” you said softly, but with the weight of everything behind it. “I want to go somewhere nobody can find us. Somewhere we can live a normal life, without the constant fear. I can’t take this anymore, Rafe. I need out.”

His breath caught in his throat as you stepped closer. “I want a new life," you continued, your eyes locked on his. "A life where it’s just us, without all the chaos.”

The words hit Rafe like a storm. For a second, he couldn’t find his voice, too overwhelmed by the possibility of a life with you that didn’t have to be defined by the fear and danger that had haunted him for so long.

“You… you really mean that?” he choked out, the doubt evident in his voice. “You want to leave all this behind? For real?”

You nodded. “Yes, Rafe. I’m tired of running, tired of being afraid. I want to build something different. With you.”

Rafe’s chest tightened at the sincerity in your words. He had always known you were strong, but this—this was something different. The weight of what you were asking, what you were willing to risk for the two of you, settled in the pit of his stomach. It was overwhelming, but it also felt like the right kind of overwhelming.

“You’d really leave it all behind? You’d trust me with that?” His voice cracked on the last word, the depth of his feelings for you surfacing in a way he hadn’t expected.

You took another step forward, closing the distance between you. “I trust you, Rafe,” you said, your voice unwavering. “And I’m done with this life. I want more than this. I want a future. With you.”

Rafe stood there for a moment, his mind scrambling to catch up with the magnitude of what you were saying. The idea of a life without his father’s control, without the constant tension, without all the chaos—it was almost too much to comprehend. But the one thing that stood out, clearer than anything, was you. You were standing there, offering him everything.

He stepped forward, his hand finding yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as if trying to ground himself in the reality of what was happening. “Then let’s do it,” he said, his voice fierce with determination. “Let’s leave this place behind, together.”

The words hit you like a breath of fresh air, lifting the heaviness that had been suffocating you. You didn’t have to pretend anymore, didn’t have to hide behind walls of fear or uncertainty. You could finally see a future, a future with him, far away from the chaos and the danger. Your heart swelled in your chest, and for the first time in what felt like forever, a genuine smile spread across your face.

Rafe noticed it instantly—how your eyes softened, how the sadness and strain seemed to melt away. The corners of your lips curled upward, and without thinking, you stepped into him, closing the space between you. His hand tightened around yours, but before he could say anything, your lips found his.

It was sudden, but it was everything. The kiss was deep, urgent, and filled with the unspoken promises you both had carried in silence. Rafe responded instinctively, pulling you closer, his hand sliding to the small of your back as if to hold you in place, as if he could anchor you to him, keep you safe, keep you close.

In one swift motion, Rafe lifted you off the ground, his arms strong around you, as if he could carry all of your burdens with the ease of holding you in his arms. You let out a soft, surprised laugh as he kicked the door shut behind him, still holding you against him, your lips still locked in a kiss that spoke louder than any words could.

Once he gently set you back on your feet, he didn’t immediately pull away. Instead, he carefully brushed a lock of hair from your face, his touch lingering on your skin. His eyes softened as he looked at you, a mixture of love, relief, and something deeper—something raw that he couldn’t hide even if he tried.

“I’m gonna give you the life you deserve,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I promise, Y/N.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked up at him, feeling the weight of his words settle deep in your chest. You could see the sincerity in his eyes, the conviction in his expression. This was no longer about survival or fear—it was about a future that was finally within reach.

You smiled, your heart full, your gaze unwavering as you met his. “You already are,” you whispered back, your voice barely above a breath, but it was enough. “Just being here with you... that’s all I ever wanted.”

Rafe’s expression softened further, a slow smile spreading across his face, and in that moment, you saw the man he could be—strong, protective, and driven by love rather than chaos.

"I love you, Y/N." The words hung between you like a promise, deep and unwavering. Rafe's breath caught for just a moment, the weight of what he'd just said settling in. He'd said it before, in fleeting moments, but now, in this moment, it felt different. There was no fear of loss, no uncertainty clouding his mind. It was just the raw truth.

"I love you, too, Rafe," you whispered back, your voice steady and sure. This time, you didn’t have to doubt it. It wasn’t just about the words—it was the way you felt in this moment, with him. Your pulse quickened, not from fear, but from the certainty of what was to come.

He pulled you closer, his arms strong around you as if to keep you tethered to him, to the life you were about to build. His lips brushed over your forehead, and then he pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze unwavering, filled with all the raw emotion you’d both buried for too long.

With a soft smile, Rafe leaned down to kiss you again, this time more tender, slower, as if savoring the moment, cherishing the bond that had been built through all the chaos and uncertainty. This kiss was a promise—one of protection, of understanding, and above all, of love.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

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peoniesnro · 3 days ago

Text

In Another Universe

#10. The Other Woman

Synopsis – When you are just another iteration of Park Jimin’s girlfriend in a different universe.

Park Jimin × Reader

Genre – parallel universe / kind of fantasy/ strangers to ??/ SMUT/ maybe romance/ angst/ fluff /Infidelity

Warnings- Language/SMUT- Making out/ Dirty talks/ Oral (f.recieving) Unportected sex/ Cum play/ Cum eating/ Office sex/ Word 'slut'/ Multiple orgasms (f.recieving)/ They are both assholes/ Hoseok is a little shit/ Angst / INFIDELITY

Word count- 20k

a/n- I was drowning in assignments up untill now. It's all over now. (Yay!!!). So I pulled this off within three days. Hope I've done good job. Thank you all for reading like always. ❤️

Taglist?

Chapter Index

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You really and very innocently had thought that you have finally fallen into a routine in your life. Even though it’s not normal. There’s nothing normal about waking up in two different worlds every other day. Still, you believed you now have an order. The part where things were unexpected was over. Then of course, it wasn’t. When you woke up in a darn school, you thought, yet again, it was for a one time. You should’ve known better, though. Since nothing in your life was a one-time thing ever since you woke up next to Park Jimin. No difference this time either.

The very next day after you came clean to the people you know; you woke up in your apartment. Safe and sound. The only hassle was explaining to Key that it somehow didn’t work. What a liar you are. Not that you had any options. Other than that, it all went normal. And you weren’t in pain either. Simply because you were in your space. Not Liya’s. It was your world. Then there came the day after that. Waking up inside a school was terrifying but waking up at a bus stop was nightmarish. You nearly had a stroke to see a woman with bright red lips staring at you as if she wanted to make soup out of you. Fortunately, though, you had your phone with you that day. No one has stopped to steal it from you. Then in a moment of panic and wanting to get away from that woman you had called the first person who came to your mind.

Park Jimin. Yes, it’ll always be Park Jimin, indeed.

And he came. Like he would. In a minute. Bed hair and puffy face. Had asked you if you were okay. Had made sure you were okay. Safe. Then finally you had that chance to talk. Get things clear. To plan out what you’ll do. Only if you haven’t wasted it. It went awfully to tell the truth. You two had talked about two things precisely. First, Jimin asked you what Liya had told you the other day. You honestly didn’t know if you should tell him. For some reason you decided not to. You answered with a simple, ‘nothing much, just talking’. Jimin had looked you in the eye. He knew you were lying. Second, you asked him how it went for him. He took his time just to say, ‘nothing, she understood’. You had looked him in the eye. You knew he was lying. And then that was all. Nothing less. Nothing more. An entire drive to Jungkook’s apartment in silence.

At the very last moment when you were about to drop off, however, he had stopped you. With a gentle tug in your hand. Had talked to you. Finally!

He wanted you to call him if it happened again. If you woke up in a random place in middle of nowhere. Well, you intended to do so in that moment. Until his phone rang. Caller ID read ‘Baby’ with a heart. A gentle reminder that you wanted to make things right. You had a plan to leave. Jimin wasn’t a part going well along with that plan. He is the very reason you’re still in this world. See now, you might not know what the hell you’re doing, but for fact you know the more you’re with Park Jimin, the more reasons you’ll find to stay. He’s a dangerous man after all. Tempting. Too tempting. It was your time to start doing things right. So, you did. When it happened again. When you woke up under a cherry tree you called Jungkook.

Jimin wasn’t happy. No, he wasn’t. Not the least. Had blown your phone out with hundreds of calls and texts. Had stormed inside Jungkook’s apartment like he owned the place. His excuse was that you never got back to his calls. Well, in your defense he never really gave you a chance to call back. Not even to send a text. You wanted him to leave the moment he invaded the place. But then there was that genuine worry in his eyes. Care. Affection. Panic. Was slightly shaking. Jimin always affects you in strange ways. So, you were forced to talk. Not much, however. And it wasn’t a two-way conversation. It was mostly you talking and him listening. Telling him about why he shouldn’t be running all around Seoul, saving your ass when there is a girlfriend waiting for him in his house.

See now, he never told you how it went with the said girlfriend and yes you knew he lied when you asked. But then, after loads of thinking you came to a conclusion. If he wanted you to stay after everything. Even after Liya is here and his request was still valid, he would’ve already asked you. He would’ve stayed that day. Like Liya said, nobody wants you here. Jimin has changed his mind.

Besides, you know Liya is a part of his life. And you think that part is inseparable. Five years isn’t a short time after all. Maybe Jimin never thought that your wish would work, and his girlfriend would be here. Maybe he is just a jerk who wanted to keep fucking you while Liya lived in a blissful lie. Maybe he is just a mess like you. In the end, you didn’t want to make it even messier.

Of course, you didn’t tell him that you’re partially scared of getting too attached to him. When you have to leave whether you like it or not. You just reminded him he has a girlfriend. And that you don’t plan to become the mistress. He said nothing. Absolutely nothing. How disappointing that was. You expected him to fight. Tell you that you knew what you were getting yourself into. But no. He accepted. He’s always more annoying when he does that. Gave a look to Jungkook who was lingering in his living room. Giving you space. You’ve no idea what Jimin was searching for. Assurance that you were safe. Maybe not. Then had simply nodded. Made a request. A request for you to text him every day. Single text message. Nothing much, just an ‘I’m okay’ would be enough. And left. Like that.

Leaving you with a painfully squeezing heart. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought that topic up. Should’ve let him to mess with your life as long as you can. The moment the front door closed it was only one thing that ringed in your mind. He made his decision. Just like you thought, he didn’t want you here. It had been a mistake he made. Asking you to stay. He decided it’d be Liya. Well, of course. That’s not even a choice. You and Jimin were nobody to each other. Just a fling that passed by. Why were you hurting anyway? Why are you still hurting?

Oh, hell, you are hurting. Missing him. Painfully. Even to this day. Have no idea how long it has been. A week? Two? In the end, that was the last time you saw Park Jimin. And he never replied to your texts.

…………………………………………………..

“This shit can’t keep happening, Noona. Just think how dangerous it is. What if you wake up in a hideout of some fucking gang, or... or what if you wake up inside a zoo, inside a lion’s cage; what if you wake up with a snake?” Jungkook’s mouth goes adorably wide, along with his eyes. Yet you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“Don’t be fucking dramatic Kookie, those kind─”

“Don’t tell me that those kinds of thing only happen in movies because look at you.” He points a finger at you. “I really believed aliens weren’t real.” Raises his brows. Slumps back on the chair. You’re at restaurant Kim. Just finished preparing the place for the day. Now just waiting here for the day to start. You look at Jungkook, pursing your lips. Well, you can’t argue with that.

“Yeah, but.. I don’t, I mean let’s hope something like that won’t happen.” You rub your eyes wearily.

“Hope isn’t going to keep you safe, and I want you, safe. We need to do something.” His voice is stern.

“Like what Kookie?” A sigh leaves your lips. You and Jungkook have been talking about this every minute you could spare. Like you and Jimin once did. Funny where all that planning and talking left you. Jungkook groans in reply to your question. Simply because he knows there’s nothing you can do. After everything that happened, you think that there’s no other way but to wait till answers find you. Exactly the same way how it happened before. It’s not possible to find a woman who dissaperated in front of your bare eyes. In that case, you’re back at square one. You’re in dire need of finding a way to live a life until you find answers. “Look, I really don’t know what I can do for this right now, but I really do need to figure out a way to manage my life.” You blow out a breath. Jungkook furrows his brows.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, I can’t keep waking you up every morning and ask you to pick my distressed ass up.” You genuinely don’t want to be a burden to him. It’s not okay. Besides you’ve learnt your lesson by depending on one guy already. Don’t want to make the same mistake again.

“Oh, c’mon Noona, we talked about this.” Jungkook whines. Is telling the truth. You did talk. But talking always doesn’t mean you came to a decision.

“We’re still talking. I’m serious about this Kook. I need to find a job, I need money, a place to stay, I need to find a way to support myself.” You put down your fingers as you list the things you need to get done.

“You have a job here.” He gestures around the restaurant. It’s not really a job to be honest. You just lend help in exchange for letting you hang around. And the tips you receive are yours to keep. No fixed payments. “If it’s about the payments, I can talk with Joo─”

“No. No, Jungkook. You’re not going to annoy your friend again because of me. They are doing enough. You’re doing enough. I can’t keep living off you. Can’t keep crashing down on your place. I don’t know how long it’ll take me to find a way to go back.”

“But why? I enjoy having you here.” Jungkook whines. “I can make this job permanent for you.”

You open your mouth to protest. Or more than to snap when the door chime interrupts you. It’s still early and Kim’s don’t offer breakfast. So, you turn your head in expectation to see Namjoon. Who just left probably ten minutes ago. After yapping about how hard his life is to work with his annoying boss. You assume he has forgotten something and is back to pick it up. Only for your eyes to widen at the completely unexpected person at the doorway.

“Hey!” Hoseok waves at you and Jungkook. Is already heading toward the table you’re sitting at when you and Jungkook return the gesture. Barely. Just a slight wave of your hands. “Did someone say something about wanting a job?” Hoseok just causally asks as he pulls a chair to sit down. Next to you. As if this is very normal occurrence in your lives. You both squint your eyes at him.

“Why?” Jungkook is the one who suspiciously raises the question. Staring Hoseok down. The said man looks between you and Jungkook. Twisting his mouth.

“Maybe because I have an offer.” Shrugs. And you practically throw yourself at him.

“Really?”

“Yes, if you’re interested.” Smiles. Tight lipped. There’s a glint in his eyes. Quite familiar to Jimin. Makes you suspicious instantly. Jungkook steals the attention before you can raise your suspicions, however.

“Why are you here again?” His eyes are just slits at this point. Almost comical.

“Ouch! That’s so fucking rude Kook. Aren’t we friends?” Hoseok gasps. Places his right hand on his chest. You and Jungkook chant ‘No’ in unison. “Wow! That’s even ruder. You guys are such assholes.” Hoseok lets his arm falls down. Pouts. But then is smiling brightly within a split second. “Well, I didn’t come here to offer jobs, but I overheard you guys talking about that. I just saw you two while I was passing by” Gestures to the outside.

“That’s an amazing ear you have. How did you even hear that?” Jungkook wonders while Hoseok wiggles his eyebrows cockily.

“And I’m just being nice. I mean we might not be that close friends, but c’mon I had you at my cottage Jungkook.” Hoseok says that to Jungkook. Good, since he thinks Jungkook was the only one who had been there. Apparently, Jungkook can’t argue with that.

“Yeah, fine whatever, so you overheard, and you just offer jobs like that? To anyone? What are you? A superhero?” Jungkook’s interrogation isn’t over yet. It seems.

“No not for everyone. But for my best friend’s, girlfriend’s, twin sister, I do.” Hoseok’s attention falls entirely on you. You shiver at his intense gaze. Gulp harshly.

“Yeah? Why would you do that?” Ask timidly. Just to earn a shrug.

“Because I’m nice pretty lady. That’s not the question though. The question is what- a daughter of Kim, and Kim Liya’s- the freaking CEO of The SE’s- twin sister, is doing at a restaurant and why does she need a job, or why she needs to find a job herself, when her father can buy her the entire country?” Hoseok quirks his brow in question. And you fight visibly not to contort your face in shock. Not to suck a breath in. Not to gulp down again. Not to rub your suddenly sweaty palms on your jeans.

“I- I uh..” You stutter a bit before your brain kicks something on for you. “I’m the family disappointment. The shame, you know. They don’t want to do anything with me. There’s a reason why you never knew Liya has a sister, a twin.” You breathe out. Lie through your teeth. That’s the thing about lying. Every time you lie it become easier. Hoseok purses his lips. As if in contemplation.

“Yeah? Why did she decided to tell us all of a sudden then?” Questions back.

For fucks sake!

“Because I made an appearance, and no one needs confusions Hoseok. Why are you interrogating me?”

“I’m not. I’m just asking out of pure curiosity.”

Or just being nosy. You want to tell that aloud but think it’ll be too rude. Hence, your slight nod. And just throw a nervous glance at Jungkook, catching him give you a nod. In approval, you guess.

“Okay…. so, what is this position you’re offering exactly?” Jungkook shifts the course. Folds his arms in front of his chest. Looks like a concerned father talking with his daughter’s boyfriend. Hoseok hums in answer to that question. Tilts his head. Bites down his pink bottom lip before answering.

“Mm... like uh... an assistant… yeah, that’s it. I am in need of an assistant.” Looks at you proudly. To which you squint your eyes, yet again.

“Wait, why do I get the feeling that this position wasn’t open, up until now?” Jungkook inquires as he leans over the table. Staring at Hoseok.

“It didn’t even exist, to tell you the truth.” Hoseok is so quick to fire back his answer. Too quick that you don’t even catch on to it for a second. Oh, the man is honest at least.

“Wh-what do you mean? You’re making up a job to give me? Why would you do that?” You gape at him in pure disbelief.

“Yeah, and it’s not like she can’t find a job.” Jungkook adds. You nod in agreement. Open your mouth to say that you indeed can do that even though you can’t.

“Well, will any of those pay you three million?” Hoseok leans back in his chair. Your words die in your tongue. Jaw dropping to the floor. See Jungkook’s jaw doing the same through your peripherals.

“Three what?” Jungkook whispers.

“Million. And five thousand, forgot to say that part.” Hoseok just casually fills in for Jungkook while you and him are just gaping at Hoseok. That’s beyond pay rate for a student. No part time job or an internship will pay you that kind of amount. Hoseok must be crazy. To do all that for you. In fact, you should be very, very suspicious about this. You’re just about to raise those suspicions when Jungkook beat you up to it. Yet again.

“Hire me please.” He almost get to his feet. “I can be a better assistant, I swear.” Say eagerly when your head snaps toward him.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” You hiss.

“Yeah, I’m dead serious Noona. I mean I can drop out of college if someone gonna pay me that much. And you don’t have to worry, you know. Let’s get married and I’ll work hard to get promotions and let’s have kids─”

“Oh my god Jungkook, shut the fuck up! And stop saying you want to drop out of college all the time.” You roll your eyes to the back of your head. Jungkook pouts. Slumps. Hoseok snorts, grabbing your attention back to him. “And you? Why are you doing this seriously? Don’t tell me just because you’re nice because no nice person would do this. You barely even know me.” You point a finger at him.

“Because I need an assistant pretty. I told you already. I need someone to work for me, and it seems you need a job. Simple. What’s the problem here?” Hoseok’s words follows another shrug. Actually, you can come with dozen problems here. But Jungkook brings the most concerned one to the table.

“But she can’t work every day.” There’s a pointed look in Jungkook’s eyes now. He sounds concerned. And you know he’s not trying to steal your offer. No, he really do care.

“You can’t? Why is that?” Hoseok looks surprised. Genuinely.

“Sick. I’m sick.” You mutter even without a second thought. See, easy. To become a better liar, all you have to do is practice. That’s the lie you’ve told everyone. Namjoon. His parents. You don’t know if they’ve believed you entirely. What kind of sickness would make you stay away every other day. In the end, you stuck with the lie you made with Park Jimin. You’ve CFS after all. The fact that they all witnessed you reel with pain just aided you with your lie. Poor Jungkook. He has to be a part of every mess you’re creating. All the more reason to find your own life soon. And Hoseok’s offer is tempting. He is awfully quite though. Looking at you blankly. Well, there goes your opportunity. This was the exact reason why finding a job was hard for you. You blink at his face for moment. Then as you’re just about to avert your gaze away and accept that the offer is ruined, he speaks.

“Okay, that’s not a problem. As long as you don’t die.” Smiles brightly. You’re back to gape at him in disbelief. Is this guy for real. Hoseok places his palms on the cold table. “Well, now since that’s settled, move your ass assistant, we have works to do.” Stands up. Looks satisfied. Stares down at you now. Expectantly waiting for you to get up as well.

“Wait what? She needs to start working now? Like now, now?” Jungkook is the one who gets to his feet, in the end.

“Yes, she does. You’re hired pretty woman, c’mon move.” Hoseok bends down to grab your wrist. Yanking you into your feet. You just allow him, ignoring the fact that he had called you pretty too many times. Still very baffled. Jungkook rushes around the table instantly. Walking to you. Effectively grabbing your other hand.

“You just can’t drag her away.” Says sternly.

“Why not? She’s hired. And her work starts now.” Hoseok points out the fact that you’re hired.

“Bu-but, what’s my job? I don’t even know what I need to do.” You try to stay on your ground as Hoseok tries to drag you away. Jungkook mumbles something similar to ‘exactly’ when Hoseok sighs heavily.

“Really? Even after I offered that much, you’re this hesitant? I thought you wanted a job.”

“I do but tell me what the duties are, Hoseok.”

“Like anything an assistant would do. Anything I asked you to do.” Hoseok jabbers, already trying to turn away when Jungkook tightens his grasp on you.

“Well, that sounds fucking dangerous.” He mutters skeptically. Making Hoseok turns back to face him.

“Relax dad, you got nothing to worry. Promise I will send your girl home by eight sharp. Or nine, maybe ten.” Clicks his tongue. Waves his free hand. “Doesn’t matter. All that matters is I’ll make sure your girl is safe, and I won’t ask her to suck my cock. Swear. Man to man.” Turns around again. You scrunch your face up. Jungkook’s cheeks are a bit red now. Embarrassed obviously.

“B-but─” He stutters again when Hoseok this time turns to you.

“Do you want this or not?” Looks serious. All jokes aside. This is a moment to make a real decision. Well, it’s not that hard. You’re desperate.

“Ye-yeah, I- I do. Yeah. Course I want this.” You find yourself uttering. Paying your attention to Jungkook. To let him know you’re okay. He gives you a nod. You reciprocate. Hoseok grins.

“Then let’s move pretty.”

“What about my clothes though let me change first.” You asks again as Jungkook lets go of your hand.

“You look damn fine.” Hoseok urges you out.

………………………………………………..

No matter how much misery would follow you, you’ll never learn not to make rash decisions. No, you’ll never. Such a stupid, reckless fool. That’s what you are. When something like that happens, your main concern should be about where you would work. But of course, it’s too late when the question pops up in your head. It’s too late when you realize Hoseok indeed works for R.U.N. Too late when you remembered Park Jimin is the CEO of that darn company. It’s certainly too late to turn down your offer when you’re waiting to reach the lobby inside the elevator. Hoseok talking endlessly about something that doesn’t quite reach your ears. Ever since the moment he confirmed, in his own words- ‘of course, we are heading to R.U.N, where else would I work?’- you have not been a part of this world.

Oh god, this is not happening. You did not put yourself in such a hard situation again. There’s a good reason why you didn’t want to see Park Jimin. Even though you were missing him crazy, things were just going fine. The more you stay away from him, the more you can stay sane. The more you stay sane, more chances you’ll not ruin your wishes again. Then here you are. All because you’re reckless. It won’t be possible to hide from him while you’re both in the same space. His space, yet again. You’ll see him certainly. And what will happen then? What will he think when he sees you out of blue like this? It might be you who asked him to stay away- which you regretted on some miserable nights- he was the one who accepted it rather easily. No arguments. No protests. Nothing. Just never was there after that day. Which only means one thing to you. He thinks staying away is the best just like you do. What a great plan. Only that you’re about to ruin it.

“What are you doing? C’mon.” Hoseok’s voice startles you slightly. Making a ‘huh’ slips through your lips as you look at him confused. “We’re here. What are you thinking so hard?” He says again at your stupid state. Only now you’re noticing that the elevator doors are indeed opened. A spacious lobby filled with hurrying around people and sleek minimalistic furniture has emerged. LED walls towering. Some game scene playing on it. Holograph in the middle. Fucking futuristic. And you gasp. Quite loudly that it makes Hoseok chuckles. “What?” Questions but this time drags you away from the elevator. You’re holding it up after all.

“This is fucking... wow...” You whispers the last part quietly.

“Thanks, but we’re already late pretty. This way c’mon.” Hoseok turns to his left. You follow, forgetting Park Jimin for a moment. Eyes wandering around crazily. Grasping everything. Jimin really is something. No, it’s not just him. These people, including the one before you, really are something. And then they would act homeless. Would kill each other for free food. Amazing. Truly.

Hoseok takes your wandering eyes back to him when he suddenly stops. You notice that he has stopped in front of the recipient table. A pretty girl with the most flawless skin you’ve ever seen giggles prettily at something Hoseok says that you don’t catch. Then her eyes flash toward you. It takes her a second but soon her smile drops. A realization drawing upon her face. It doesn’t take a genius to guess what she’s thinking. Especially when a sting at your chest makes you wince painfully. The moment you become sacred that it would get worse, Hoseok saves you. Without knowing it. Probably has read the girl’s expression.

“Oh, that’s not Liya. That’s her sister.” Introduces you properly. “Twins.” Throws a hand around your shoulder. “And is my personal assistant now on. Say Hi, Susi.” Grins. The sting subsides slowly. Girl still looks very confused. You don’t know what she might think of this, but she bows to you, nonetheless. Which you reciprocate. Share a friendly smile with her before Hoseok is ushering you away again. Pulling you inside another elevator. And then you’re going up, up and up. Floor by floor. People rush inside and then outside. Everyone practically bows down to the floor when they see Hoseok. Most people don’t acknowledge you at all. You think someone’s gaze linger on you a little bit more than normal. Yet no one asks anything. There’s a slight pain in your chest. You ignore it. Completely overshadowed by the nervous feeling. Stomach churning and heart pounding. Thin layer of sweat covering your skin. Nervous about what might come next. Not wanting to see the CEO of this prestigious company. Wanting to turn around and run away. Hide.

You can’t hide. Not at all. There’s no place to hide. Before you know, it’s you and Hoseok who are exiting the elevator. Stepping out into another spacious space. No LED displays. No holograms though. Just a simple workplace that screams luxury.

“My office is this way.” Hoseok guides you. You’re not paying much attention to what he says. Head nervously spinning around. In a desperate wish to get away from here soon as possible. Even if it’s into Hoseok’s office. Want to remain a secret. Then you’d be the most fortunate person on earth to have a such escape. Then of course, you are very fortunate, aren’t you? The luckiest. You only get to take two steps toward the direction Hoseok shows, when you are faced with a tall figure. Making you abruptly stop to prevent colliding. Your eyes flicker to the newcomer. Meeting with pair of curious eyes and the lips that made you betray Park Jimin. Jin takes his hands out of his pockets just to point one at you. Surprise evident his face and you brace yourself to meet with the pain when he inevitably would call you Liya now. Only for him to surprise you. Greatly so when he mumbles your name. The name your parents gave you.

“What are you doing here?” Adds that question to the end of your name. He can recognize you like that now? Then nobody could do that when you were pretending to be Liya. Isn’t that funny? But then you think it’s the clothing. Yes, it is. Especially since Jin is eyeing you head to toe. Certain. You believe Liya would never walk into her boyfriend’s company wearing a tight ripped jeans and an oversized hoodie. No, she won’t. Only if Hoseok allowed you to change first. Hoseok answers Jin, on your behalf.

“Oh she? She works here.” Nearly walks away when Jin stops him.

“Wait, what? Since when?”

Hoseok scowls at him. Evidently not enjoying being held back again. “Since now Jin. Now will you please let us go. I haven’t even looked at that damn brief.”

“Of course, you haven’t, and I don’t give a fuck. How does she work here? She works as who?” Jin eyes you again. You feel like shrinking into an ant. Hoseok sighs.

“She works as my assistant. Personal assistant.”

“But why? You have a secretary. Why you need an assistant too?” This time Jin gives you an apologetic look.

“I do, but this is different. A secretary, Hyung, is not an assistant. Total two different people.” Hoseok pats Jin’s shoulder. You watch stupidly as Jin opens his mouth to disagree. But his words die on his tongue when a third voice reaches you. Loud. Right in your ear. Chirpy. And before you know it you are turned around. By a gleaming Taehyung. His hands on your shoulders.

“I knew it’s you.” He bellows as he takes you in. Of course, he did. You give him an awkward but a polite smile. With a slight blow. “What are y─”

“She works here apparently.” Jin doesn’t let Taehyung finish his question. “Hoseok’s assistant.” Gestures to Hoseok. Who looks smug for no reason. Taehyung gasps.

“Wait really? I didn’t know we can do that. I mean if he can, we can too, right? We share the same privileges.” Taehyung asks Jin. Still holding you by shoulders. Jin gives him a look. Opens his mouth yet again to get interrupted for a second time. Even before he starts. This time the voice that interrupts you comes from distance.

“Hobba.” All four of you snap your heads toward the voice. Taehyung’s hands still on your shoulders. Gaping at the man who rushes forward with his eyes fixed on his phone. You feel everything slows down. Like in a movie. It’s slow when he takes his eyes away from his phone. Pocketing it. A faint smile on his lips. “Did you─” That faint smile drops. He freezes. This time eyes fixed on you. You feel your blood rushes in your body in extra speed. Heart beating in your ears. A painful tug at your chest at the sight of the blonde in front of you. Just few feet away. Feels like it’s been ages since you last saw Park Jimin. Oh, you’ve missed him more than you knew.

This is a fucking mistake.

“Lil?” Jimin breaks the uncomfortable silence which you didn’t know has fell. That must’ve looked really weird how you stared at him. You heart does a leap when he calls you. Mouth goes dry when he comes close. “What, what are you─”

“For the hundredths fucking time, she works here.” Hoseok groans.

“You’re what?” Jimin’s eyes dart between you and Hoseok.

“She’s Hobi’s assistant.” Taehyung fills in. “He says so.” Adds in at the glare Jin throws him.

“Why? What’s the problem? I can’t hire an assistant?” Hoseok asks ever so innocently. To which Jimin furrows his brows. Eyes back on you. You force yourself to smile at him. Bow. Don’t want to appear rude to others.

“Of fucking course, you can’t. Why the hell do we have an HR department if we can hire people like that. I mean I’m sorry─” Jin mutters to you slowly before turning to Hoseok again. Your cheeks flush red. Embarrassed. This is uncomfortable. “But you can’t just drag in people you want.”

“Ugh… fuck you, Jin. She is not hired by the company. She is hired by me. I pay her. She works for me. Nothing to do with the company. Happy?” Hoseok gives all three men, a stern look. Well, you don’t think that justifies this. Makes it okay or fair. Still very against the policies. Still, nobody says anything again. Especially not Jimin. Looks too stunned. You don’t get to watch him longer when Hoseok drags you away. You manage a ‘bye’ right at time.

…………………………………………….

“Okay, this is not good.” You finally stand up from the little comfy couch at Hoseok’s office. Doing absolutely nothing but spinning in circles in your own head. Hoseok lifts his eyes wearily from the tab he has been looking at.

“What’s not good?” He sounds a little bit annoyed. Which you don’t mind. You close the distance between you and him. Standing beside his table.

“Look, what Jin said is totally true.”

“Don’t mind what he says. He has this thing to do the right thing all the time, you know, he is like uh... if you ask him not to eat your food he’ll not.”

“Well, that’s a good thing.”

“What’s good? I mean, who would fucking care?”

“Owner of those food maybe─” You look at him in disbelief. Sigh. “Oh my god, Hoseok, that’s not the point anyway. I mean I got this job very unfairly and everybody must be hating me right now.” You put your hands on the wooden tabletop. Bending down to emphasize what you’re saying. Hoseok finally puts away the tab. Sighs too.

“Who’s gonna hate you when they don’t even know you exist?”

“Oh, really?” You turn your head to the left. Looking out through the glass partition. Catching the man sitting on the table at the far corner of the outer office. Staring at you. Or more glaring than staring. Hoseok’s secretary. The person who rightfully earned that position. Unlike you. He’s been glaring at you for past thirty minutes. Hoseok follows your line of vison. Chuckles. Then takes the little remote from his table. Blinds the secretary’s view. You gasp. “Yah! Why did you do that? Now this might look like something else.”

Hoseok just clicks his tongue. Waves his hand. “Stop nagging sweetheart, so what? You don’t need this job now? Stop worrying so much. I can assure you no one is giving a single fuck as long as you stay away from company matters. Your only concern is me. Speaking of what, you should shut up, I didn’t hire an assistant so she can nag in my ear all day.” Hoseok picks the tab up again. You feel a gentle tug at your heart. Then a heaviness. Someone else’s voice ringing in your head.

Don’t nag all the time lady.

Jimin used to say that to you all the time. Once upon a time where you shared his life almost every other day. And you thought he was being rude. But maybe you do nag too much. You shake your head to force away the unwanted thoughts. You shouldn’t be thinking about him. Even though you’re currently at the same space, you think as long as you keep away from him you still can do this. So, you push yourself to keep going.

“Yeah, fine, but at least give me something to do then. I don’t want to get paid for doing nothing.” You straighten up. Your words forcing Hoseok to take away his attention from his work for the second time. He looks more annoyed now. Yet, still knits his brows. Thinks for a moment. Then smiles. Bright.

“Course you should work.” Mumbles. You watch as he picks up a file from his desk. Hands it over to you. You take it hesitantly, not sure what he expects you to do. “Take this to Jimin. I’ve been meaning to send this to him since yesterday. Thanks sweetheart.” Says hurriedly. Another bright smile and almost goes back to his work when you almost shriek.

“What?”

“What?” Hoseok jumps a little in his seat at your suddenly raised voice.

“You want me to do what now?”

Oh, for the sake of the mother of God.

This is not happening. Just as you thought you’d be fine as long as you stay away from him. No. Hoseok is not making you walk toward the very person you’re trying to avoid.

“That’s very concerning. That you’re talking to your boss in that tone.” Hoseok gives you a stern look. Boss. Yes. Of course, that’s what he is. But still, you can’t walk into Jimin. That’s not wise. You can’t do that.

“B-But do- don’t you─”

“I’m paying you for this pretty. You agreed to do whatever I say, as long as my cock doesn’t involve. Will you please do your job now.”

Technically, you agreed to nothing. Hoseok is looking at you with the same stern look, however. In the end, he is your boss. You’re his assistant. Even though you don’t know where your employee rights stand, this looks like something you should do. So, you gulp harsh. Force your maddening heart to calm down. Nod.

……………………………………………

You had no other option but to ask Hoseok’s secretary for directions. You have no idea where you’re headed. Good thing this pissed off man very reluctantly agreed to show you where Jimin’s office is.

“So, you’re Ms. Kim’s sister?” He asks as you walk down a hallway. Beautifully lit up with yellowish light.

“Huh? Oh, y-yeah. Twins.” You chuckle awkwardly. He scoffs.

“No wonder you land a job like that.”

“Excuse me, but that’s got nothing to do with this. I don’t even work for the company.” Your forced smile drops as you find offense grows inside you. Hence, you use Hoseok’s word.

As long as you stay away from company matters.

“What do you think you’re doing now? Making him coffee?” The secretary asks again but you don’t have the chance to answer when you enter a much larger outer office this time. Your eyes directly landing on the desk in the corner. Occupied by a middle-aged woman. Her’s snaps to you at the sounds of your footsteps. Her eyes instantly going wide as she gets to her feet. No surprise now when your chest ache. You wince in pain as she bows to you deep. You barely manage to bow back as the pain is slowly intensifying. You’re trying your best not to double down or whimper. It’s pure luck that Hoseok’s secretary reaches her table before it can happen. Interrupts her words.

“Ms. Li─”

“This is Mr. Jung’s assistant Mrs. Emi. She is uh... Ms. Kim’s twin sister- as she says, and she is here to deliver a file to Mr. Park. Would you let him know please?” He explains slowly. The woman, Emi, looks at you again. Eyes still wide. Visibly in quite surprise. Fair. Then at the Hoseok’s secretary’s second call she snaps out of it. Another bow. A quite whisper of an apology and she picks up the receiver in her table. Clears her throat. You watch as she mumbles a ‘hello’ the pain starting to subside finally. Fortunately, never reaching its peak point. A clear sign that she believes you’re not Liya. Good. But now there’s a whole new pain inside you. Churn in your stomach. Heart pounding. Feeling a slight discomfort in breathing. Hell, you’re nervous like a leaf in the wind. You absolutely don’t want to walk inside. Don’t want to meet him. Don’t─

“You can go in Ms. Uh... Ms. Kim.” She bows to you again deeply. You didn’t even hear how the conversation went. You let out a breath. Forcing yourself to return the courtesy. To say thank you. To both of them. You want nothing but to turn away and break into a run as you walk toward the closed wooden door. You really are regretting every life decision as you grip the door handle. You want to know how to dissaperate as you twist it. You desperately and stupidly wish he would not be inside as you push open the door. Take a one deep breath in and you fully open it. Step inside before you can change your mind. This is fine. It’s just Jimin; you know him. What could possibly go wrong.

Everything.

Oh yes, every fucking thing. The moment you let the door close behind you in a soft thud and your eyes avert to the desk right in front of you. To the man standing there. You know everything can easily go wrong. That painful tug in your chest comes twice powerful this time. Makes a lump in your throat. You try to swallow that down. Fruitless. You’re not able to push this weird painful sensation away. Not when you can see him like this finally. See, you’ve missed him dearly. Like he’s a part of you. You’ve missed those brown orbs. You’ve missed that blonde hair. You’ve missed those soft, pink lips. You’ve missed Park Jimin. And he is not helping that pain by staring at you like you’ve cast a spell on him. Is making it worse by inhaling shaky breath. As if he’s not been breathing up until now. Like he needed to see you to breath. Surely that can’t be true. No, it’s not. You’re imagining things.

“Lil.” Jimin breaks the trance. His voice hoarse. Steps away from his opulent desk. Nearly walks toward you. You mentally scold yourself to put your shit together.

“Uh.. Hoseok, sorry, Mr. Jung wanted me to give this to you.” You step forward as well. Not allowing him to make it to you. Meeting him in the middle of the spacious office room. Hold out the file in your hand. Hoping Jimin would take it quickly so you can disappear. He doesn’t. Instead, peer at your face.

“Lil, what’s happening?” Questions. Doesn’t make any effort to take the file away.

“Wha-what do you mean?”

“How are you- uh- how did he─”

You save him from his misery. “It just happened. It was very quick, I know. I’m surprised too but yeah, it happened.” You try your best to avoid his gaze. It does things to you. Makes you weak.

“Yeah? And you took the job like that?” There’s no accusations in his tone. No anger. Just asking. You shrug.

“Yes, I did. I mean, I needed a job. I can’t live off Jungkook forever.”

“I could’ve helped─”

“You don’t have to do that Jimin. There’s a reason why I asked you not to run around trying to take care of me. You- uh- you have a life, and I don’t want to be the reason it gets ruined. Besides, I can take care of myself quite well. I got a job now and Hoseok pays me well. I think this is good unless- uh… if you don’t want me to work here like obviously it’s your company.” You nearly bite your tongue as you realize you’re rambling. A nervous tick.

“No, no. I mean, uh- you’re his assistant… yeah, it’s fine.” Jimin shakes his head furiously. You finally take the courage to turn your head a little upward. Catching his gaze. Taking a good look at him. Feeling the tug intensifies. It’s been just few weeks. Then why do you feel like you’ve not seen him for years. Why do you notice these simple changes in him. Were those black roots always there? Did he always have those dark circles? Why doesn’t his lips are a bit pale? Is he sick? How might he have been?

You feel your hands itch. Itch to do what? You’ve no idea. You feel your lips tingle. That spell falling up on you two again. You should’ve never found the courage to look at him. Your heart is now beating erratically. Funny how you’ve not noticed how close you are. Your tummy has started do those weird flips. Oh, no this is not good. You promised yourself that you’re going to make it right. This, after all, is about to make it worse, yet again. You need to leave from his presences. Immediately.

“This. He wanted me to give it you.” You jerk your hand forward. Snapping your eyes away from him. Nearly push the file into his chest when he grabs it. “I- I should go. Thank you, Mr. Park.” You don’t think you’ve ever walked faster than you do now. Turning around and leaving without another single glance. Not allowing Jimin to say anything else.

………………………………………..

When you returned to Hoseok’s office, you were shaking. Heart beating madly and in desperate need of water. Which led you to gulp down an entire bottle in one go. Making Hoseok worried that you might’ve met a ghost on your way. It had taken you more than thirty fucking minutes to calm yourself down. Twenty minutes inside the ladies’ room and ten minutes sitting in Hoseok’s couch. Staring blankly at a gaming character that covers an entire wall. Right across from the couch. You had to talk yourself out of it. Convincing. That it’s all going to be all right. That you can survive through this. Well, you were more than fine till you actually met him. So, as long as you don’t have to see him again, you’re going to be okay. You’re going to go home successfully without committing any more sins. And then all you have to do is make sure you’re following the same procedure in the future as well.

Easy. So easy. At least it should’ve been if everything had gone according to plan. According to how you’ve planned it in your head. A perfect plan to avoid Jimin at all costs. Which went down the drain just after that thirty minute. All the pep talk you gave yourself becoming null and void when Hoseok hands you a second file. His request simple.

“Would you mind taking this to Jiminie, sweetie.”

…………………………………………..

You minded. You minded, a lot. In fact, you didn’t want to do it at all. Yet you had to. Just like how you had to do it the third time. Like how you didn’t want to the fourth time, but you still did. Then the fifth time. You were positively losing your mind at the sixth time. Then this is the seventh time. Hell, even Jimin looks at you like you’re crazy when you put a to-go coffee cup on his table.

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” Jimin mutters, confused as you sigh. You look at the lines that appeared between his brows. He keeps his eyes on the coffee cup for a moment before looking at you. Expecting answers. As if you would know. See, it has been draining to walk between Jimin’s and Hoseok’s office fourteen times already. Seven times to Jimin, and seven times back. Yes, it is. You’ve even become annoyingly aware how large this one floor is. Then it’s uncomfortable how you had to face Emi seven times. Pretty awkward when you asked her to let her boss know you have returned. Again. But those are not problems for you. No, not at all. The problem is how your poor plan is miserably failing. It hasn’t even been a day yet. Why is it so hard to avoid just one person. Each time you visited Jimin, you stayed a minute longer than before. That is your problem.

You didn’t share smiles let alone laughter. There were no friendly words but just polite ones. Still, you said a word more each time. This is not good.

“You don’t have to bring me coffee Lil. Why are doing that?” Jimin speaks again at the lack of your response.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Then why are doing it? Say no. You’re his assistant not mine.”

“Yeah, but he just wanted to send you a coffee. A friendly gesture. That’s it.” You shrug. Then straightly rub your forehead. Annoyed.

“Bullshit! That motherfucker has never once sent me a coffee in my life. Like what? Am I dying that he’s so concerned now? He could’ve emailed me that stupid letter, but he sent you over for it? What is he thinking? Say no Lil, you don’t have to do all his stupid shit just because he’s paying you.” Jimin pushes the coffee back. “Please tell me he hasn’t send you all over the building.” Suddenly sounds so concerned. You shake your head slightly.

“No, no. It’s just you. I’ve been walki─”

“He hasn’t sent you to others?” Jimin interrupts you. Taking your curious attention on him as he furrows his brows even deeper. Giving you a suspicious look. “What about Taehyung?” Questions. You slowly shake your head again. Starting to mirror his expression as your own brows start to merge. A realization starts to build up in your head. “Jin? Anyone else?” He is looking straight into your eyes. You give him another shake of your head. This time firmer. Precise. You’ve finished connecting dots in your head.

That little sneaky bastard!

“That little shit!” Jimin voices exactly what goes inside your head. You don’t say anything to him though. Just curse under your breath as you clench your jaw. Turn around your heels fast. Starting to practically run toward the door. Ignoring whatever Jimin is saying.

……………………………………………….

You ignore the sneaky side eye that Hoseok’s secretary gives you as you storm past him. Barging inside Hoseok’s office. Glad that his secretary still can’t see how you march toward his- and technically your- boss’ table. Like a madwoman. Fury running through your veins as you slam your palms on the tabletop. Causing Hoseok to startle and recoil against the chair. Eyes comically wide.

“What the fuck? Wh- wha─”

“What are you fucking playing at, Jung Hoseok.” You save him from having to stutter over his words. Looking directly at his wide eyes.

“Wh-what the hell─” He lets out a breath. Straightening up. As if he finally realized he got scared by you. Composes himself before speaking again. “What happened? You got possessed or something?”

“No, but I will if you don’t tell me what you are up to Hoseok. I don’t care that you’re my boss, you can keep you damn job.” You lean in closer. Hoseok scowls.

“I think you’re possessed. And you’re frightening.” He gulps slowly. In a different context, you would’ve laughed at that. Now though, you only glare at him harder. “I mean, what are you talking about? I’m up to what?” He sounds innocent. Innocent that you almost believe him. But you don’t.

“Oh, c’mon, cut the crap now Hoseok. You’ve been sending me to Jimin purposefully for no reason. Just to send me there, and I would like to know why? What are you up to.” You scowl harder at your own words when his scowl disappears. A ghost of a smile dances on his lips. Eyes lightly glinting.

“What made you think so? Because I assure you that I did not do such thing. You’re my assistant and I’m assigning you jobs. Thought that’s what you wanted.” His confidence is back. That startle and confused look far gone.

“Oh yeah? Then how come I haven’t visited Jin or Taehyung yet? Or anyone else in that case. And I think Jimin clearly told me that you’ve never sent him a coffee before and you could’ve mailed him that letter.” You recite what Jimin told you exactly. Knowing very well they prove you right. Only that it doesn’t make Hoseok’s faint smile go away but makes it wider.

“Ah! So, that’s why it’s taking too long for you to come back. You’ve been chit-chatting with your sister’s boyfriend.” Hoseok grins this time. You really don’t like the way he put weight on the word boyfriend. No do you like how his eyes sparkle. As if he’s expecting good news. As if he knows the news is going to be good beforehand.

“N-no.. I mean, I wasn’t taking too long Hoseok. He just told me.” You feel uneasy suddenly. It wasn’t true. Even though you might’ve stayed a minute longer each time, you didn’t stay there for Hoseok to notice. Let alone worry.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m not scolding you here. I mean you can chit-chat with him all the much you want. I don’t care as long as you do your job.” He pushes away the tab he’s been hunched over for the entire morning. You open your mouth to defend yourself. Feeling stupid at how the tables has changed so quickly. You’re the one to stutter now. Yet Hoseok stops you before you can say anything. “Since that’s done now. Do you like to join us at Lunch pretty? I hope Jin ordered Chinese today.” He tilts his head in expectation while he stands up. You’re stupidly gaping at him though. Raking your brain for a good comeback. A way to return to your point since there’s no denying that Hoseok did that. Sent you to Jimin deliberately.

“No, I mean, I wasn’t chit-chatting with him. A-and don’t call me nick names Hoseok.” That’s what leaves your mouth. Stupid. Isn’t the point nor the problem here. But it is still something that budge you. So, you’ll get it over with since it’s out in the open now. “I have a name. Jesus what’s with the men in my life giving me nicknames─”

“Yeah? Like what, Lil?” Hoseok cuts you down midsentence. Your words freeze in your tongue as your eyes dart to his face. He is on his feet now. Hands inside his pant pocket. Is poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. Looks coy. Kind of remind you of Jimin when he’s amused.

“What?” You question foolishly. Feeling your mouth starting to dry.

“You said men in your life give you nicknames. So, like what nicknames? Like the one Lil?” Asks the same thing again. Is calm. Composed. Certainly, knows what he’s at. You feel a light pound in your head. No words coming to your smart mouth this time. Only gape at him when he mumbles your real name. Once. Twice. “No matter how hard I would think, your name doesn’t go anywhere close to the name Lil. You know when I first hear Jimin call you that, I really thought it was shortened for Liya. Cause it sounds similar. But then Lil, I’m positive I’ve never heard him call Liya by that name. Not before you or not after you. Because he doesn’t call her Lil. He calls you Lil.” Hoseok raises his brows. You yet again open your mouth for words that never leaves your mouth. “Don’t even try to deny it, he called you Lil even this morning. How stupid are you two? How stupid do you think we are? For not to pick up on something so obvious.” Hoseok steps away from his desk. Walks toward you. Forcing you to take a step back. His coy expression morphed into something serious. “Your stupid lies are so obvious Lil. Should I call you so? Why not huh? Even your sister’s boyfriend call you so.”

“No. I mean yes.” You suddenly blurt. Inhaling a sharp breath. Think that staying silent is a stupid way of giving away. You need to at least try. Try to deny. “I- I mean, th-that’s my nickname…” Your words trail away. Hoseok’s lips breaking into a yet another cocky smile as you regret your entire existence. Just not your decisions. Should’ve stayed silent. Hoseok scoffs.

“Yeah? So, you admit it then?” Questions. You don’t answer. Just stay there rooted to the floor. Admitting is what you just did. You were supposed to do it the other way around. Denying. “You admit that’s your name? So, I wasn’t mistaken then. That’s how Jimin called you at the cottage. It was you.” Hoseok’s gaze is piercing. How stupid of you to just give away everything like that. And then here you thought you were getting better at lying. What a huge mess you are in? “I mean nobody with eyes and ears need that to know you weren’t her Lil. I- we knew her for almost as long as we knew Jimin.” Another chuckle. “And did that stupid shithead friend of mine thought he can fool us like that. You were- are nothing like Liya. You can be twins, but you guys are complete opposites.”

So, he still believes you are twins.

Then at what he’s getting at. You try not to wander your gaze away from Hoseok. To maintain eye contact. Gulping harshly as you can feel your heart in your throat. Sweat breaking in your skin. You try to come up with something. Another good lie. In vain, though. Your brain is empty. Completely empty at Hoseok’s mercy. All you can do is utter a weak question. In your hoarse voice. “Wh-why are you doing this? What do you want Hoseok?” You ignore what he’s been saying. There’s no point. This is Stupid. Taunting. Agonizing. Yet you stand there. Praying that this could not go any worse than this. Hoseok’s face softens for a moment. He takes a step forward again.

“What I need? I don’t know. Maybe it’s fun to see you two idiots squirm at each other’s presence like teenagers. Trying so hard to act like you don’t know one another that well─”

“That’s not true.” You finally find your voice. Your brain finally starts to work. Processing things and coming up with ways to escape. “Okay, so what if it was me, Hoseok? It’s not like─”

“It was you. Stop trying to deny. I’m not an idiot like you think. And before you come with another stupid lie, I hope you cleaned my kitchen island after you did- whatever you did.” Hoseok grits. Turns away from you. A loud gasp leaving your mouth. Jaw hanging open as you feel your entire body heats.

Oh god no. That’s what he’s getting at.

You really expect Hoseok to leave you in your miserable pit of shame. But unfortunately, he isn’t done confronting you. Isn’t done taunting you. “Trust me you don’t even want to know what I heard. But for what it’s worth, he kept saying the name Lil, not Liya. I was fucking drunk that day, but I know what I heard. Besides, Jimin acts completely different with you.” He turns around to face you again. You don’t look at him this time. Buring in shame and wanting to crawl up to a hole, you keep your eyes on your shoes. Still, Hoseok continues. “Maybe, I want Jimin to fucking see that he’s damn suffering. Maybe I want him to know he can do all these alone. And do you want to know why you’re here?” Asks but doesn’t wait for your reply. “I’m using you Lil. And you won’t back away.”

With that, he finally leaves you to bury yourself deep in your misery.

………………………………….

You won’t back away

Hoseok had said. Yet in reality, you know he has no power over what you decide to do ultimately. It’s not like he threatened you. No. He didn’t do such a thing. In the end, he can’t threaten you without doing the same to Jimin. If anyone’s going to be in a tight spot if Hoseok decides to bring the matter up, it would be Jimin. And you know for a fact that Hoseok loves him. Hence, nothing to worry about. You can give Hoseok the middle finger. Turn around and leave. You’ll find a way to solve the rest of your problems after that.

But the problem is that you haven’t done just that. That you’ve already worked there for three days. You haven’t turned around nor have you shown your middle finger to Hoseok. This time though, you know the exact reason why you’re still Hoseok’s assistant. Simple. Even though it’s embarrassing, the reason is the CEO of the RUN. See now, you knew Jimin is always going to be a reason to stay. The same way he’s the reason why you’re waking up in most random places and living a life where you could be dead in the next minute, he is the reason why you’re still tolerating Hoseok’s stupid tasks.

After the confrontation, you really planned on giving up. It was too embarrassing to face Hoseok after that anyway. Then you had walked out of his office. With no specific purpose. Just to stop your walking in the lobby. Because two men had interrupted your panicky mind going haywire. You had watched Taehyung saying something to Jimin. Something that is supposed to be amusing since he laughed hard. Jimin didn’t. Just a chuckle, before he shift his eyes mindlessly toward where you stood. Catching you staring. A warm smile tugging on his lips. That smile tugging on your heart. That pull you always felt. Making the world blur.

Then there were you on the next day at your apartment, convincing yourself that you’re just preparing work appropriate cloth just because there can be an emergency. Not because you planned on reporting to assistant duties at all. Then there were you at Hoseok’s office, convincing yourself, you’re there to resign formally. That formal resignation apparently took a whole day. You had to postpone it for another day. Then another.

That’s how you finally made peace with the fact that you’re not going to resign. No. You feel like a schoolgirl who hates school with passion but attends every day because his teacher is her crush. No. That can’t be. Jimin isn’t your crush. You’re not that stupid. Still, he’s the reason. You cherish every single moment you get to be in his presence. Every little and polite smile you share. Every word you exchange. Even though those words are anything but personal. Still, in the end, you like how you feel your stomach flip and heart flutter every time you see him. Then, isn’t that how someone would feel when they see their crush?

You groan audibly. Letting your head fall into your palms. Keeping it there as if it can solve your problems.

“Why the long face?” Jungkook’s sudden voice makes you raise your head. You catch him poking his head inside his kitchen. Hair still wet after his shower. Then he reveals his whole body to you. Enters the kitchen with a towel still around his neck.

“Are you telling me, I have a long face?” You smile softly.

“Yeah, your chin is touching your feet. It’s normal though, you’re an alien after all.”

“Fuck you Jeon.” Both of your soft chuckles fill the silent kitchen. You feel Jungkook stands beside you a second before his hands are on your shoulders. During the brief time you shared in his space, you’ve grown accustomed to the fact that Jungkook is touchy. He would squeeze you. Tickles you. Pick you up. And occasionally would start massaging your shoulders like now. Random. Everything about Jeon Jungkook is random. Like that mattress on his living room. You had moved yourself from his couch to that mattress. Eventually, it came in handy. You hum in affirmation when he starts to squeeze your shoulders softly.

“No but seriously, what’s the problem? Is that shithole giving you a hard time? He promised me he wouldn’t.”

“Nah uh, he promised you he won’t make me suck his cock.” You correct him. Eye lids slowly closing.

“Well, it’s still similar to it if he’s making you do all his stupid stuff. And he hasn’t made you suck his cock, right?” Jungkook’s hands freeze for a moment. You chuckle.

“What are you gonna do if he do that?”

“I don’t know. Making sure he won’t get his cock sucked ever again.”

“Okay, I don’t want to think what that means. But no, don’t worry. He’s just a tough boss.” And he knows your dirtiest secret. When you had asked him if anyone else knew. Or if anyone else has picked it up. He simply said that he has no idea. But his best guess was that anyone with a brain should. Still, no one except Hoseok confronted you. So, you’re assuming rest of your friends are brainless. Easy that way.

“Yeah? So, he still makes you run around the office?” Jungkook stops rubbing your shoulders just to sit next to you. It’s really silly how you two would sit in this same spot every night you’re here and recite everything that happened in your day. Except for the parts you can’t tell. Honestly, you haven’t told anyone about that. Not even Jimin knows. You don’t think you should run to him every time something goes wrong. And no have you told Jungkook either. “If it’s too hard you can quit you know. We can always come up with another idea.” Jungkook adds when you keep your silence.

“No, it’s fine. It’s just─” You look at your hands on your lap. You’re about to lie again. This isn’t about work at all. It’s about your stupid obsession with Jimin. It’s about your inability to make a decision. And you’re keep staying in that uncomfortable situation just because you want to see him. Fuck your life!

“Noona?”

“It’s just Hoseok knows it was me at the cottage back then and- and... then he... uh... you know Jimin and I─” Your words cut down when Jungkook harshly turns you around to face him. His eyes wide. You didn’t mean to tell him. Yet it feels good to have someone to shoulder some burdens with you.

“He knows? How?”

You peer at his eyes before slowly starting to explain how things went. He listens intently. “And is he fucking black mailing you? Is that it?” Asks in the end. You shake your head.

“Of course, no. He hasn’t done something like that. But he told me that I won’t back away now.”

“Yah! That’s what you call black mailing. He threatened you. That’s it I’m gonna make sure he won’t get his dick sucked ever again.” Jungkook looks ablaze. Not believing you have disregarded that. So, you have to show him the reasons how it’s not really a threat. How it would ruin Jimin more than you if Hoseok do something stupid. “Then what the fuck he wants with you?”

“I don’t kn-know.” You don’t honestly. When he told you, he’s using you, it made no sense to you. It still doesn’t. What did he mean when he said, Jimin acts differently with you. This is a part you haven’t told Jungkook. Good thing since he would really go search for ways to make Hoseok dickless. “But I don’t care you know.” You add. Smiling. “Comparing to the pay, running around the office is nothing.” Shrug. Jungkook still looks unconvinced though. So, you nudge him with your shoulder. “Oh, c’mon don’t look so tense. That’s Hoseok, he can’t blackmail me. He asked me to take this tiny bug out the other day. Man was scared for his life. Trust me the most he can do is making me get him a coffee every thirty minutes.”

A tiny smile appears on Jungkook’s lips. It doesn’t take long for it to stretch into a grin. And then a laugh.

“Okay, I would trust you to kick his balls if he tried anything funny.” At last, he sighs. Just to compose himself after laughing.

“Course, you can.” You assure. Watching him getting to his feet. But bends down again to your level.

“Do you wanna bake something?” Questions out of nowhere.

“What? Now? Do you know how to bake?”

“No, but that’s why we have technology. C’mon, it’s going to be fun.”

Random Jeon Jungkook.

…………………………………………..

Fun it is. Too much fun in fact. It was exhilarating to go grocery shopping at night to buy what you needed to bake- as Jungkook says- Kook’s bliss. You made sure to gag every time he said the name. The guy wasn’t discouraged a bit, however. He keeps calling the cupcakes Kook’s bliss and is ecstatic about what you’re doing. You can see him visibly buzzing.

“Okay, we need to preheat the oven first.” You squint at the video to read the subtitles. Not that you can’t understand what she’s saying but you need to make sure you’re preheating the oven for the right temperature and time. “And then we have to mix all this stuff up.”

“Like that? It’s easy. Like eating cake.” Jungkook places his hands on his hips confidently.

“Uh huh. Let’s see about that.” You turn around to meddle with the oven, handing over the phone to Jungkook so, he can start.

“Okay, here we go, baby. Mixing everything up.” You can hear him mumble to himself. Makes you smile to yourself. You straighten up and turn around after setting the oven to preheat. Pay your full attention to Jungkook. Walking right beside him at the right time when he start pouring the buttermilk to the bowl.

“You already mixed the baking powder and all? That was quick.” You say to him as you pick the phone up again. This time to check how to make the frosting. Only to get distracted when Jungkook suddenly stops. Head snapping toward you. “What?” You ask.

“Am I supposed to mix that first? Wait, is there an order? You told me we just have to mix everything up.” His eyes leave your face to stare at the bowl. Blankly. Stupidly.

“You didn’t?” You lean forward to peer at the bowl too.

“No, it’s just flour there. And I’m adding milk to it.” He shows you the obvious. You have to clear your throat to hide the annoying groan that is about to leave.

“Uh.. I’m pretty sure she told to whisk the flour, salt, and something else before milk. Evenly mixing or something.”

“Fuck, now what? We throw this away.” Jungkook’s eyes are too wide. Glints. Shifts those eyes to. Catching your own which are wide with disbelief.

“Nooo… Jungkook. That’s such a waste.”

“What are we gonna do then?”

“We’re gonna keep going, like─” You shrug, giving him a thoughtful look. “It’s not like it would make a huge difference now, will it? We would still be able to eat it. Let’s keep going huh?”

Jungkook doesn’t reply to you in words. Do it in a shrug before pouring the rest of the milk into the bowl. Well, it seems like you’re up to a good start here. Very good one indeed. Where you threw the instructions away as you start doing it in your own way. Turning everything into a funny mess. It definitely started with Jungkook putting the wrong foot forward, but you are the one who make the first mess. Accidentally, bursting open a packet of baking powder making the contents puff out. Showering you and Jungkook in the white dust. Filling the air with coughs that turn into roaring laughter soon after. Then it’s laughing more than working. Too much laughing since you’re wiping the tears away now when you finally put the cupcakes- or whatever you made- in the oven. You had to preheat the oven twice.

“Do you think they will be safe to eat.” You ask Jungkook after wiping your eyes with your T-shirt sleeve. Two of you are peering inside the oven through its tempered glass. Both of your hair still covered in white substances. So do the parts of your faces. The tip of Jungkook’s nose is adorably white at this moment. You can’t help but chuckle at that.

“Can’t guarantee. Maybe we should take some to Joonie and J, I refuse to die alone.”

“You’re not dying alone, you have me.”

“True, but do you want to be stuck with me forever? Joonie can be a good distraction when you get bored of me.”

“Sounds like a plan. Maybe I should take some to Hoseok as well.”

“Please don’t. Why would you want him to annoy your ass even after you die.”

You straighten up as another laugh leaves your lip. Jungkook follows your movements. Grinning from ear to ear. This sure is a good distraction for you stressing up mind. You feel fairly relaxed now. Not that you’re fooled that it’s going to last. Know it’s temporary simply. Yet, it’s good. You plop into a stool when Jungkook suddenly perks up.

“What’s that song? I like it.” He points at your phone.

“Yeah?” You look at the device as well. It’s your phone from your world. Your offline playlist on shuffle. Jungkook wanted to listen to alien music. Taylor swift’s Paper Rings has changed into Justin Bieber’s 2U. “Ah, that’s To You. Justin Bieber.” You answer his question casually when he snatches your phone away with great interest.

“I like this.” Mumbles to himself. Unlocks your phone to look at the album cover. Takes his moment listening to the song. Justine Bieber’s voice flowing across the kitchen.

When it comes to you,

Don’t be blind

Watch me speak from my heart

When it comes to you, comes to you.

Jungkook gasps. Those doe eyes blinking at your face. Are glinting madly. “I like this dude.” Says with such wonder that you nearly think he just fell in love.

“He was my teenage crush.” You let Jungkook know for no reason when he puts down the phone back. Walks toward you.

“Who’s your crush now?” Asks but doesn’t let you answer when he effortlessly pulls you to your feet. It’s good that you don’t get to answer. You don’t have a crush. At least, not someone other than Park Jimin.

Holy fuck, he is not your crush.

You mentally scold yourself as Jungkook places his hands over your waist.

“Okay, what are you doing?”

“Dancing.” He scrunches that white nose. You giggle when he makes you do a swirl.

“Really? This is so stupid.” You don’t mean that. Are having a hard time trying to keep your giggles controlled.

“That’s the best part Noona. Because it’s stupid.”

Random. Oh, so random. But you like it.

You like someone else other than Jimin in this world. You don’t want any more reason to stay. Yet Jungkook is slowly making a special place in your life. Is creating one more reason to love this life. It’s not that you have a choice but to return anyway. In that case, just avoiding Jimin won’t make it easy for you. Maybe it’s such a waste that you will not have any more memories with the person who you want to create them the most.

It'll be a waste. Surely.

………………………………..

Jimin had just one thing to do. One. And it wasn’t easy. Respecting your wishes not to see him again. You explicitly asked him to do so. Oh, it cut him when you said that. When you asked him to stop worrying about you. When you reminded how much of a prick he was to do so when he was committed to another woman. Then it wasn’t really his fault you popped into his life again, is it? True, he has been ecstatic to know you were hired. Even though it felt wrong and is wrong like Jin says. Even though you’re Hoseok’s assistant and not his. Even though, he knows Hoseok is into something. Still, he’s the happiest he’s ever been. Except for the time he woke up to see you adorably mumbling in your sleep.

You don’t talk to him much. You always keep it professional. He hasn’t seen that pretty smile or heard those pretty giggles. Sure, you two have these strange moments where you would just stare at each other. Jimin swears he can see that starry night inside your eyes then. Only for a split second, however. You would always snap your eyes away from him. Then would dash away.

Oh, how bad he misses you. How desperate he is to see that smile. Giggles. How he is itching to just reach you whenever you’re in his vicinity. Close. He doesn’t need much. Just a touch of your soft skin. A fleeting brush of your lips in his. That would be more than enough. What’s wrong with him? It’s scary how he’s getting slowly obsessed. How he’s grinning stupidly when Mrs. Emi informed of your presence. How he feels like a boy again. Waiting patiently for his school crush. He forgets who he is. Feels bubbly and buzzing. It’s becoming torture to wait till you finally let those walls down. Till you call him Park again in your adorable, annoyed voice. Till you pout hard.

Oh fuck!

It’s not that he’s getting slowly obsessed. He is obsessed. How else he would explain driving to Kim’s, hopefully just to catch a glimpse of you. He promised himself he would drive away the moment he saw you. Then he ended up waiting there for hours. Like a creep. Watching you sauntering around. Serving tables and smiling wide. It had made him grin widely alone. To see your smile. Though, it wasn’t for him. Nine out of ten times it was for Jungkook. The dude following you like a lost puppy. Annoying. Gets Jimin’s blood boiling. Another reason why he’s happy now you have a job. You’ll never accept his help but since Hoseok pays you well now- despite whatever his intentions are- you’ll be able to move out soon. And he gets to see you every other day, like how he used to. Everything feels like going damn well. In reality, however, it’s not.

He understands why you asked him to stay away. You are a dangerous woman after all. It’s becoming unbearable with every passing day. With each day he’s getting closer and closer to losing control. For a fact, he knows one of these days, he’s definitely going to kiss you hard until you both can’t breathe. And that’ll be how it all goes down the hill again. That’s how mad you drive him. Especially since now you’re fully into this assistant thing. Wears damn button downs. And pencil skirts. He’s a man. A man who is incredibly attracted to you in that case. You always make his brain short circuit.

No difference for today, when he catches you step outside the elevator while he’s about to head off to Jin. You’re juggling with way too many some kind of boxes in your hand. Jimin’s eyebrows instantly merges at the sight. Especially, when Hoseok is stepping out right beside you with his hands beautifully free. Jimin is about to reach you. His mouth already open to yell at his dear friend when Taehyung beats him up to it. Emerging from nowhere.

“Yah! Hyung! Really? You’re letting her carry all this alone. What are you? Insensitive demon?” Taehyung already reaches for the boxes you’re carrying when you skillfully avoid him. Makes Hoseok snorts.

“Try dealing with this stubborn hag Taehyung─”

“Yah!”

Jimin watches as your protests get ignored by his two friends. Well, he can’t argue with that one. Makes perfect sense if it was you who insisted on carrying all those by yourself.

“You think I gave her those? She nearly bit my hand in front of Susi when I tried to help her.” Hoseok throws an incredulous look at you. You smirk devilishly. Jimin feels his lips stretching into a smile. Of course, you did. Taehyung gasps.

“Really? You have a bite kink?”

“Oh, yeah, you want me to try it on you.” You take a step toward Taehyung. Probably assuming he would be scared and step away. Only to find out that Taehyung is looking at you expectantly. You don’t know his friend well, it seems. You stop, realizing it’s not going according to your plan. Scrunch your nose.

“Well, what did I expect.” Mumble to yourself.

“Will you put those down. Please?” Hoseok interrupts you concernedly. You’re torturing yourself with those. Jimin can’t hear what you say to that but in a minute, you’re doing swirl. And walking backward in his direction. Waltzing. Hoseok giving you his signature judgmental look while Taehyung is grinning widely. Both of their eyes going past you and landing on Jimin. Finally, acknowledging his presence there. Taehyung raises his hand in a wave to him. Jimin nearly returns it when his eyes swift back to you. Right at the moment your back bump into his shoulder. Unexpected for you. Jimin has no time to move away either. You’ve already collided with him and are losing your balance. It’s too late when Jimin springs into action. Trying to grab you, when you fall back. All the boxes you’ve been carrying, flying into the sky before they fall on to you. A shriek leaves your mouth followed by a loud thud.

You curse aloud one time before it all goes into silence. Just Jimin dumbly staring at you who is lying there on the marble floor. Eyes scrunched shut and face contorted in pain. You open your eyes slowly. Catching Jimin’s eyes on you. Staring back at him. Face slowly starting to change color to a deep scarlet. Adorable. Oh, so fucking adorable.

“You’re flashing us.” Taehyung’s sudden voice grabs Jimin’s attention. He snaps his head toward him. Then back to you. You just slightly raise your head from the floor to look at them. Sure enough, you’re just doing that. That damn skirt has ridden up. To add more to it you’re bending your knees. Jimin has to gulp harshly first before glaring at his two friends. Who are shamelessly and obviously staring at you with their mouth hanging open.

“Oh, fuck. Sorry.” You hastily mutter as you try to get up. On your wobbly knees.

“Fuck off!” Jimin shouts at his friends meanwhile. Since they don’t look like going anywhere.

“What?” Taehyung asks Jimin first. “Do you need help baby?” Asks you, already starting toward you when Hoseok luckily grabs from his arm.

“No, she doesn’t you little shit.” Hoseok states as he starts to drag Taehyung away. Good. Jimin is glad.

“Why not? Yah! This is very rude.”

“No, it is not. You’re shameless, you know?”

“As if you’ve looked away.”

Their voices trailed off down the hallway. Giving Jimin the chance to pay attention to you. You’re already on your feet. Hastily collecting what you’ve dropped.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see you there.” You softly mumble. Jimin bends down next to you. Helping you to collect the littered items.

“No, you didn’t, because you were dancing.” He doesn’t mean to embarrass you anymore, but you look like you’re about to explode. It’s completely unintentional how he grabs your hand, stopping you from picking up your fourth box. Makes you straighten up. Your wide eyes peering into him as you struggle to hold three boxes with one hand. Jimin should let your hand go. So, you can hold them properly. He doesn’t. He can’t. Your hand is soft in his. Feels like the first time he’s touching you. Squeezes it. “You’re red.”

“Huh?” You squirm slightly under his gaze. Look like you want to hide your face behind your hands. They are both occupied, however.

“Lika a tomato.” Jimin ignores your struggle. Hopes you remember calling him a tomato. “Cute” Adds as he finally let go of your hand. Not because you can hold the damn boxes properly. Because he wants his both hands to take them from you. You don’t even protest. Look thunderstruck. Isn’t it amazing how he can do that to you. Makes his head spin to think. You gape at him for few seconds. Then you’re doing it. Pouting. Fuck he wants to press his lips into yours.

“I swear to god, if you laugh, Park…”

You’re calling him Park. Not Mr. Park. No professionality. In your annoyed adorable voice. And Jimin thinks his heart is about to leap away from his poor rib cage. Isn’t it amazing how you can do that to him. He has to bite down on his lower lip to act like he is in fact not about to laugh.

“I- I’m not laughing.”

“Well, you’re about to.”

“I’m not Lil. Where do you want this to go?”

“To Hoseok’s. I’m gonna kick your ass if you laugh.”

That’s the final straw. He can’t help but let it out. Can’t help but laugh hard. You’re glaring at him hard. For a moment. Then the corners of your mouth are twitching as well. You try your best to suppress it but fail. Fail miserably when a chuckle escapes you.

“Fuck you, Park. Fuck you.” Say through your pretty giggles as you leave him. Knowing very well, he would follow.

………………………………………

“What’s in here anyway?” Jimin curiously questions you as he puts the boxes down.

“I have no idea. He had them in his trunk.” You answer honestly. Your laughter had finally died down and the situation slowly sinking into you. You and Jimin had finally broken the barrier of being professional. Back to calling him Park. Back to bickering. Back to being in the same spaces without trying to run away. All it took was a slip on your foot and a minute. Which is bad. After all, you still want to think you have a chance. Maybe keeping Jimin away won’t make it easy for you to leave this world one day. But that’s less of a burden on your life. He is still in a relationship. You still want to make things right. So, you want him to leave now. Or you should leave him here.

“Uhm... Thank you.” You blurt out before he can ask anything else. Making him turn around to look at you. You’re not trying to be rude here. But it might look like that.

“You want me to leave?”

No. Of course not.

“Well, I mean, you must have work to do Mr. CEO. Thanks for helping me. I should find Hoseok─” You step forward. This is awkward. And hurtful. That glint in Jimin’s eyes disappears. “─his coffee. Do you need coffee? I can take you, yours.” You ramble, gesturing at the door. You still need to try. The sooner you get away, the sooner your heart will calm down. When did it start going crazy? When your heart calms down, you can remember why you should not get comfortable with Jimin again. Yet before you can step away, Jimin clutches your wrist. Stopping you.

Fuck, too late!’

“You need to stop doing that. Thought you called me immature when I did that.” Jimin turns you around to face him. Softly. Your brain is starting to ring warning alarms. This is how it always start to mess up.

Get away now!

“Doing what?”

“Trying to avoid me. You were the one who told me talking is what we should do, not avoiding.”

“I’m not avoiding you Jimin. How can I avoid you when I walk into your office ten times in a day.” You try to free your hand subtly. He doesn’t let you. Like earlier. And deep down you don’t want him to let you go.

“Yeah? And you would run away like I’m about to eat you.” Jimin scowls. Isn’t he though? Not all the time, no. But sometime that’s how he looks at you. Give you the urge to spread your legs right then and there. You have good reasons to run away.

“I- I─”

“And you asked me to stay away from you Lil.”

This time it’s you who are scowling. Gasp. “When did I ever say that?” Jimin doesn’t answer you. Just give you a deadpan look. “All I said was that you don’t have to help me all the time.”

“Were you?”

“Well, it’s not like you replied to my texts. You don’t get to accuse me.” You don’t really feel mad. All you want is to leave. Every passing minute where you’re staring into his brown orbs, makes you greedy.

“You asked me to stay away.” Jimin repeats. This time more sternly.

“I did not.” You match his voice.

“That’s what you meant when you said that. You wanted to keep me away.” Last part leaves like a breathless whisper. Brushing past your entire body. Making you weak. You’re becoming weak. Chest squeezing. “You wanted me to stay away from you Lil. I was just doing that.” Jimin pulls you with your hand. Slowly. You take a step forward. See, weak. Greedy. His thumb is drawing comforting circles in your hand. How you missed his touch. Is watching you expectantly. Something in his eyes are forcing you to speak the truth. You’re losing it.

“I wanted to try Jimin.” So, you give up. Sigh. Allow yourself to become greedy and get bewitched in his gaze.

“Try what?”

“To stay away. We can’t- can’t─”

Jimin scoffs. “Want a piece of advice Lil? I already tried that, and it’s not gonna work.” Whispers. You don’t stop him when his free hand cups your cheek. Oh, here you go again. Like he said, it never was going to work.

“But- but we need to try at least.” You try to downcast your eyes.

“What did she say to you? Liya?” Jimin keeps your face in place. Never letting your eyes wander away from him. Truth. Something is pulling you to tell the truth. “She asked you to leave, didn’t she?”

“She has all the right─”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“It’s rightfully her place Jimin. And we can’t share it.” You try to reason.

“That’s why you wanted me to stay away?” Jimin ignores your attempts.

Your heart is pounding in your ribcage. You want him to bring you even closer to him. A silence fall down as you simply nod.

“Then you wouldn’t have asked me to do so, if it wasn’t for her?” Asks again.

“You’re in a relationship Jimin.”

“So what? I wasn’t in a one when everything happened. You didn’t know I have a girlfriend when you let me fuck you?”

You shut your mouth. There’s no answer for that than admitting. You knew. You can’t even be mad at Jimin for confronting you. He doesn’t sound like he’s accusing. Is simply asking you a question.

“I did, but─” Jimin cut’s you down by cupping your cheeks with both of his hands this time. Closes the distance between you.

“Then what difference will it make now?” His gaze drops to your lips. You’re certain, his lips would land on yours in a split second. And you’ll let him. You’re already anticipating that touch. But just before it happens, you find yourself stopping him with a question.

“So, you still want me here then?” You’re finally doing this. Asking questions that need to be asked. Jimin’s eyes shift back on to your eyes instead of your lips. A slight frown appearing in his forehead.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, even when Liya is here, you still want me? You still don’t want me to leave?” Your voice is shaky. Jimin chuckles softly in disbelief.

“Course I do baby. Why are you even asking that question?”

“You left with Liya that night.”

You watch as Jimin’s features softens. Contrast to how his hands tighten. “I didn’t know what I should do Lil.” Explains. You know he’s telling the truth this time.

“Do you now, then?”

A silence. A sigh. Deep one. And a shake of his head. “Honestly, no. I have no damn idea what I should do. I’m fucking lost.” Despite his words he brings his face closer to you. “Tell me what I should do baby.” You close your eyes to bask in this feeling. Loving the way his breathings tingle your face. “Aks me to stop Lil. Ask me to go away. Maybe, you should reject me, if you still want to try.” You open your eyes to find his hazy ones. Droopy. You want to laugh at his request. Jimin is an asshole through and through. Is so fucking selfish to ask you to do that. You can’t even blame him since he so graciously admitted he is. Well, if he can be selfish, you can too. There’s a bubble of annoyance that pushes you toward your greed. Pressing your lips into his which are so close to yours. You don’t care. Jimin hums in appreciation. A clue that he never wanted you to reject him. Immediately, starts to work against your lips. Lips slotting with yours desperately. Inclining your head for better access. His tongue poking at the seam of your lips, begging for entrance. You give him that. Allowing him to lap with your tongue. Allow him to kiss you until your lunges scream.

Only drifting apart for a long breath before attacking each other’s lips again. This is good. More than good. You had wanted, no, you had needed Jimin more than you knew. It’s good to see he wants you as much as you do. You’re clutching on to him eagerly. Kissing him back with a same kind of fervor. Moaning into his mouth. And you want to give him more. More than you need. Want him to know he’s driving you mad. You let your hands roam. Roam on his body. Starting from the back of his neck. Shoulders. Chest. His god sculptured abs. Touching him the best you can through the annoying clothing till your hand stops on his belt. You take a moment, just to tease him before you let it brush against his crotch. Jimin grunts and buck his hips instantly. Pulls away.

“Do it again baby please.” Moans.

“Like this.” You do it again. This time with enough pressure. Jimin lets out an inaudible gasp. Works in light speed when his hand falls on top of yours. Not letting you take your hand away. Guiding you to rub his hardening cock.

“Like that yes. Fuck. More princess please.” You whimper at his words when he keeps pressing your hand harder against his cock. You do as he wants. Like you always would. Squeezing and rubbing. Presses your lips against him once more when the light creaking sound of the door opening interrupts you. Suddenly. Your eyes go wide before you practically push Jimin away from you. In an inhuman speed. So forcefully that he stumbles. Barely catching his balance. You both turn around toward the door in right moment to catch Hoseok enters. Eyes landing on you. Freezing there for a moment since he clearly doesn’t expect to see you here. Surprised. You and Jimin do the same. Frozen and staring at your friend dumbly. Only for a moment, though, then Hoseok is smiling. Stepping inside to allow Taehyung to enter after him.

“Oh, you’re here? What are you doing?” Taehyung is the one who questions when he notices you and Jimin.

“Jimin obviously helped her like the true gentleman he is, while you gaped at her underwear Kim Taehyung. Is that even a question?” Hoseok is the one who answers that question. Only that he’s not looking at Taehyung, but his eyes are on you. And Jimin. Smirking. Oh, he knows. He definitely knows.

“What? I could’ve helped her if you didn’t drag my ass away.” Ever so clueless Taehyung argues while Hoseok keep his piercing gaze on you. You’ll have to let Jimin know. Specially now since Hoseok caught you for a second time. For now, however, you want to disappear.

“Your coffee, I’ll go and grab it” You rush past the two men standing at the doorway fast as you can. Hardly catching Taehyung grumbling that he needs a Fizz instead. Apparently, that drink is like coke. You have found out. You only nod without looking back.

……………………………………..

You’ve been on edge the entire day. Not surprising that you did. Firstly, you’ve been on edge due to how desperately you wanted to go back to Park Jimin. You were practically buzzing with anticipation. Your heart is not slowing down and the fire he lit inside you never dying down. When you went back to him with his coffee, this morning, your horny body and traitorous brain was eagerly hoping to start back from where you stopped. You could have probably. If it wasn’t for Emi being inside with him. Not leaving. Politely and awkwardly gaping at you when you bid your time there. Wait and see if she would leave you alone to no avail. In the end, you had no option but to leave. The only thing that happened from that painful encounter was that you became more desperate. Jimin is to blame since he most definitely fucked you with his eyes. Staring at you shamelessly. Expression fucked up.

Then you had to wait till you have your moment again. There wasn’t a problem since you normally have plenty of opportunities. Too much in fact that it makes you annoyed. But today, though, there were none. On the very day you wanted to go to Jimin, Hoseok didn’t ask you to play his personal delivery service. So, secondly, you’ve been on edge due to how Hoseok treated you. His little smirks and curious gazes. Watching you intently. Giving you enough work to busy yourself but never once asking you to go for Jimin. You were pretty sure he knew but you were too afraid to ask. So, you were playing dumb and hopefully waiting to take anything stupid, even a paper clip or stapler, to Jimin when Hoseok asks. He didn’t. Not for an entire day. Making you wonder what he was playing at again.

Playing was what he did. For no doubt. It became positive when he decided to make you attend a, according to him- very informal and a little- meeting with one of their very important sponsors. Your presence was not required at all. And it was against the policies. You need to stay away from the company matters. But then there you were. Stupidly sitting there while trying hard not to gape at Jimin. Trying hard to keep your mind not wandering away. Imagining things. The way he would kiss you again. Bite on your lips. The way he would sucks on your neck. Marking. The way he would squeeze your tits. Rolling his thumbs over your nipples. How he would suck on them. How good it would be to see his blonde hair tickling your thighs while he bury his face in your cunt. Kiss your clit and dragging his tongue along your slit. How he would make you warm his cock again. Twitching inside you. Throbbing. Oh, what would you do to have that again. Yet all you had was more desperation. Subtly squeezing your thighs together. All you had was glimpse of Jimin. Nothing more.

And you knew Jimin was struggling too. His eyes told you all. Was distracted through the entire meeting. Had mumble ‘Huh?’ more than twenty times during that sixty-minute-long meeting. Couldn’t keep his eyes away from you. Torture. Hoseok had put you in pure torture.

It's pathetic how horny you are now when the day is finally nearing an end. Your mind is going haywire as you wait outside the Hoseok’s office. Resting your ass against his secretary’s desk. You’ve warmed up to each other finally. He has long gone home. Building is getting isolated slowly. Silence spreading. It would be nice if your mind could go that silent as well. If it can shut up and stop thinking about hundred different ways Jimin can fuck you.

“You want a ride?” You don’t even hear Hoseok leaving his office until his voice erupts next to your ear suddenly. It doesn’t even startle you. Too distracted and fucked up. You just hum in reply. “I can take you home if you want to.” Hoseok says again when you just dumbly stare at his face.

Going home? That means this day ends. That means you would not see Jimin again. You would have to wait a day, and you’ll die. No. No, you can’t wait that long. You want him. Jimin. Fuck you need him. He hasn’t left yet now, has he?

“Li?” Hoseok mumbles again. Slowly. Suspiciously. As if he’s not sure whether you’re sick or not. You have no idea since when he started calling you that. Simply you can’t care. You just blink at his face for a long minute. Making up your mind. Perking up the moment you do. Excited.

“You go first. I have something I should take care.” You don’t wait for him to reply. Already walking away.

“Oh yeah? Good luck with that then.”

Can hear the teasing edge in his voice though.

………………………………….

Your mind is repeating one thing and one thing only.

Fuck it!

You need Park Jimin.

Fuck the rest of the world and everyone in it.

You’re going to fuck Park Jimin.

You don’t care anymore. No. Not at all. You’re breathing hard as you walk toward his office. Your heels clank loudly as you go since it’s all quite inside the building now. You’re shaking slightly in pure desire when you finally reach his outer office. Seeing Emi has gone already. You don’t even take a moment to think about what you’re doing. Nor do you wait to knock on his door either. Just pushing it open without a care when Jimin snaps his head toward you from his computer. His eyes go wide in surprise.

“Lil?” Mumbles when you’re already walking forward. You catch him licking his lips. Nervous? Anticipation? Excited? You don’t know. As long as he won’t stop you. You’re fine.

You let your bag fall onto the floor softly. Not giving a double fuck. Do the same to your jacket as well. Are already unbuttoning your button up. You don’t care!

This time you know Jimin licks his lips entirely in anticipation. Is looking at you with an open mouth. Breathing already shallow even before you reach him. He turns his chair away from the table so you can directly straddle him without further hassle. He catches you immediately. Welcoming you like you’ve come home. Head falling down to your cleavage. Burying his face there and inhaling deeply. Groans.

“I can’t Jimin. Fuck, I can’t. Want you. Need you to say Fuck it.” You whimper as you keep his head in place. Jimin chuckles.

“I said fuck it a long-ago Lil.”

You say nothing. Just thread your fingers in his hair. Pulling from it to get him face you. Jimin looks surprised at your sudden change. You’re the one who melts always. The one who waits till he gives you. You don’t reach. Well, you normally don’t but, you’re just a woman and have limits. And those limits snapped. Yet he says nothing when you nod and pull him into a rough kiss. Whimpering and moaning. Trying to hump your cunt into his crotch urgently. Getting annoyed when your stupid tight skirt is restricting your movements. Jimin takes the hint luckily, pulls the hem of your skirt up. Up through the curves of your ass. Bunching it up on your waist. Now you’re nearly naked on top of him. All the more reasons to be more needy. Feverish. Jimin kneads your ass cheeks. Pulling you into him more. Your aching cunt finally landing on where you want to be. Deliciously dragging along his pants. Driving you crazier. Your fingers leaves his hair to reach his shirt instead. To unbutton him. But he suddenly pulls away. Grabs your hand, stopping you from unbuttoning him.

“W-wait.” Mutters. Your movement falters. Eyes going big. Is he really rejecting you now? Has he changed his mind? The way he brings your hand to his mouth to kiss it tenderly says otherwise, however. “I need you to think.” Says. Voice thick with adoration. You’re very confused though. Frowning at him. Nothing makes sense to you.

“Think what?”

“If we do this now baby, you’re fucking stuck with me. You know, like I said, I don’t know what I should do. I really don’t have a single idea what I’m going to do. Still, if we’re going to do this, I’m gonna act like you’re mine.” Jimin rambles. Breathless. And so does he take your breath away as well. “I’m going to be fucking jealous and possessive Lil. There’s nothing casual here. I’m not going to say this is just sex and then watch you go on with other men. No. I’m gonna be so fucking annoying to you.” He presses his forehead against yours. You feel like your heart is about to explode from your chest. Why does this feel like a confession. “Even though, I’m in no position to do so. Well, I- I know this is so wrong to say bu- but I just can’t go and break up with- you know, it’s complicated─”

You stop him. By squeezing his hand. Just give him a few nods. It’s not like you came here for anything more. Despite the way you feel your heart breaks at his word. The painful realization of you’re never going to be the first, dawning on you. You’ll be the hidden secret behind closed doors and drawn curtains. But it’s okay. You don’t expect more. You’re already cursed. Cursed to be in this position with this man. So, you let him know you understand. Jimin brings his free hand to cradle your cheek. With the back of his hand. Softly.

“So, I need you to think Lil. I’m not going to let you go. Even though I have no right, I’m going to act like I do. I’m gonna say you’re mine, and mine only. It’s not fair baby. You don’t deserve that shit. I’ve already made your life a mess. I don’t want to drag you deeper into this shit. So, maybe this is not the right time to ask but think baby, be sure.”

You pull away from him. To get a better look at his eyes. Feeling torn between emotional and horny. See, Jimin is the most selfish jerk you’ve ever met. He doesn’t want to drag you deeper into this mess. No. He wants you to walk into that mess. Hand in hand. Selfish. Too fucking selfish. The imperfect Park Jimin. Just a human. And oh, how he’s perfect in your eyes. How you’re not feeling any anger. Remorse. How obsessed you’re with him.

“This is not just casual?” You finally ask after keeping him on edge for minutes.

“No. You’re only mine.” Jimin shuffles in the seat making your half bare chest presses against his clothed one.

“Then what about, uh.. what? Liya? Do you do this with─”

“No. No I haven’t for so long and I don’t think I will again. Not when─” He doesn’t complete his sentence. Instead puts his hands on your thighs. Slowly rubbing. You arch into his touch. Shivering. “Lil?” Gives you a fleeting kiss. Is looking at you hopefully.

Well, it is just like you think. You’re the one behind the curtains. Liya’s the one who will live life out there. The answer you give will determine whether you want to become that person. The mistress you refused to become. But you can’t lie to yourself. Despite how hard it hurts; you love it when Jimin said you’re his. You love that he is jealous. Simply you will never get to say or feel those things in return. That’s it. And you’re fine. Fine as long as he would give you this. Not sex. No. Being with you this way even as a secret.

“I want you, Park.” You say sternly. No wavering in your voice. Clear and precise. Making Jimin’s breath hitch. He breathes out shakily.

“Are you sure?” Yet he asks again. “I’m not going to share you.”

“Yes. I’m sure.”

“You’re not going to kick my ass later when I’m annoying you, will you?” There’s such a glint his eyes that makes your heart swell. You chuckle breathlessly. Nudge his nose with yours.

“I think I’ll love it when you annoy my ass.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, will you please fuck me now? I- I’m just─”

“I know” Jimin whispers. Saves you from having to explain your desperation. Pulls you into another tender kiss. And that’s all it take. You’re practically savoring each other. Swallowing each other’s moans and humping like horny rabbits. You finally being able to unbutton his shirt at the right moment he stands up. Picking you up with him. The surprised shriek you make is yet again muffled by him. He puts you down on his table. Easily. Like you’re a doll. Your skirt is still bunched up in your waist and your shirt open. You prop onto your elbows to keep your balance when Jimin urges your legs apart. Cursing loud.

“Shit!” Bends down to catch your lips in a kiss again. “You have a fucking pretty pussy Lil.” Informs you before he straightens again. Just to peer at your cunt. “Take your tits out for me princess.”

You’re quick to comply. Pulling your bra down to reveal your hard nipples. He smiles in approval. Doesn’t touch them though. Ghosts his fingers over your cunt. Leaving barely there touches that gets you bucking your hips desperately.

“Eager, are we?” Taunts you.

“Oh, please Jimin you have no idea, how much I- oh god.” A gentle press in your clit makes your words turn into a moan.

“And you think I haven’t. I was rock hard all day. All because I couldn’t get this cunt out from my mind.” Jimin clicks his tongue. Gets you slightly jumpy when he hooks a finger inside your underwear. Curling it around the material. Forming a thin line out of the fabric. You watch him curiously and breathlessly. He just gently tugs the fabric up. In a way that it perfectly presses against your swollen nub. Your ass nearly laves the tabletop as you hurriedly grabs his wrist.

“No, no, I will cum Jimin. I can’t.”

“So, go ahead. Cum.” Jimin smirks sinfully before pulling the fabric down. You tremble. Then he pulls it up again. This time a bit harder than before. Not enough for you to hurt. Just enough to feel the pressure of it pressing against your clit. Keeps it there. Then down again. Up. Then down. With every tug Jimin making sure to rub the soft material on your clit good. Deliciously. Over and over again. Massaging your cunt with it.

“You gonna cum already princess?” He coos while you’re slowly starting to tense up your body. Hands frantically and blindly searching for purchase on something. To hold onto something to keep you sane.

“Yeah? You do? I haven’t even touched you baby. And you’re already coming? Look how much you’re dripping on to my table.” Jimin’s eyes are glued to your cunt. Doing a damn great job. Creates a perfect amount of pressure in your slit. All you can do is whimper. Moan. Spread your legs further. Allowing him to play with you all the much he want. “All I’m doing is tugging at your panties and you’re going to cum? You’re that desperate for me?” He shifts his gaze from your sloppy cunt to your face. Leans forward. Kisses you sloppily. Trails his hips down to your chin and then throat. Mouth into your skin. Getting drunk on you. Your smell. Pulls away to peek at your face, searching for something. Is making sure his words are not too much. You just know him. Nothing to be surprised anymore. You just nod. Greenlight. Jimin dips down again. This time to take one of your hardened nipples in his mouth. Sucking and gently biting. Pays equal attention to the other one, all the while his hand doesn’t stop rubbing your own underwear in your cunt. Pops your tit out of his mouth.

“You look so good spread out on my fucking office desk Lil. You look fucking gorgeous. Such a good slut hm? Fucking desperate. Do you realize you’re whoring yourself for me?” Fills your ears with filth. “Be a good girl and cum. You can cum like this, right? All you need is anything to touch your slutty clit. And you’re going to be a good slut and cum for me hard. Go on” Tugs a little hard on the fabric that is rubbing against your slit. Your head is spinning. Your body is tensing up. Tears start to blur your sight. And then that knot is exploding. Your back arching and your hands giving up on keeping you propped. “Yeah, like that. Cum baby, cum for me.” You fall back on your back. Accidentally, knocking something on Jimin’s desk to the floor. About which neither of you care. Jimin keeps rubbing your clit to drag your high as long as he can. Only stopping when you wince but you can already feel him tugging your panty down. Forcing you to open your eyes which you didn’t know you had closed. You raise your head hardly to catch him fall down on to his knees.

“J-Jimin.” You straighten up immediately. At the right moment, Jimin buries his face between your thighs. Causing them to shake. “Holy fuck, it- it’s─”

“More Lil. You can. You can cum more for me. Want to make you cum till you can’t anymore. C’mon again.” His words make your cunt vibrate. He wastes no time in starting to drag his tongue over and over your slit. Repeatedly. Working you up again within mere seconds. Latches his lips into your clit while peek up at you. He looks drunk. Just like the day at the cottage. This is exactly how fucked up and drunk he looked.

Fuck!

You can’t. This one is going to be even faster. Especially, since Jimin is ravishing on your cunt like a mad man. Loud embarrassing, slurpy noises filling the air. And then you’re really a goner when he slips a finger inside your quavering hole without any notice. You squeak. Press your cunt more into his face.

“Yes, oh god yes, Jiminie don’t stop. I’m c-close, so close, baby I-I mmhm”

He adds a second finger. Curles. Presses on that spot. You nearly make him suffocate on your cunt when he adds a third. Throwing you over your edge for the second time just as his finger starts to slip inside. He keeps licking and slowly pumping his fingers inside you for couple more minutes. Before standing up fast again. Doesn’t even allow a minute for you to catch your breath when he’s back at kissing you. Your own taste spreading across your taste buds. He bites on your lower lip. Looks mad. Eyes all pupils and face flushed.

“More princess, tell me you can take more. My cock hurts...”

“C-course I c-can Jimin. I-I want you. Want you bad, need your cock inside me. Now please.”

“That’s my girl.” Jimin pulls away to fumble with his pants. Belt thrown away and undoing the fly. Pulling down his suit pant along with his boxers. Freeing his throbbing cock. You’ll never get used to seeing it. Never will not be aroused at the sight. Never learn not to whimper impatiently when he wraps his slender fingers around the shaft. Mesmerizing. Your mouth is literally watering. Jimin stands between your spread legs. No more teasing, it seems. Is nudging his flushed tip against your sensitive, swollen nub immediately. Makin you both moan.

“I really want to see you choke on my cock baby, but I can’t wait anymore─” Jimin mumbles as he drags his tip across your slit. Rubs it up and down. You tremble in excitement. “─ but you know what’s good? We can do it the next time. And then again in the next and─” His words are muffled by his clenched teeth when he suddenly thrusts inside you in a one go. “─and next.” Lets out a breath of relief when you scream his name. Hands find purchase on his shirt sleeve. Pulling him closer to you so that his next words are whispered against your lips. “Because you’re mine, baby. Mine.” He pulls out his cock almost all the way out. “Mine.” Thrusts back hard. Splitting you open and stretching you wide. Good. Delicious.

“Oh god Jimin. Fuck.”

“Say you’re mine Lil. Say I can do this all the much I want.” Thrust. “Tell me.” Thrust. Harder than before the desk rattles under you. Jimin grabs your jaw. Making you look at him. “Say it baby. Say you’re my slut.” He slams inside you. It’s not that you’re not answering. Simply, your brain isn’t working properly. You can’t gather coherent thoughts let alone voice them out. “Say it.” He squeezes your cheeks as he slams inside you harder again. Pace slow but hard. Plunging deep inside you every time he moves forward. A tangled noise leaves you as you struggle to find your words.

“Y-you- yours Ji-Jimin. I’m y-your slut. I’m a-a-all.. oh, fuck.. I’m yours.” You don’t know what you’re saying anymore. They are all just sounds leaving your mouth. Jimin has picked up his speed. Evidently losing control, at your words.

“Fuck, that’s right. Mine. My slut. Gonna take a good care of you baby.” He urges your legs further apart. You give up trying to stay up right. Once again falling down to your back and taking each thrust Jimin gives you graciously. Greedily. Sucking up his cock. Clenching and convulsing around him. Trying to milk him out. His perfect pounding makes his cock head hitting your spot repeatedly. Melting you. Bringing you closer to another climax far too soon. You just need a little push. Sputtering and wailing, you weakly snake your hands between your bodies. Trying to chase that high. You nearly touch the bud when your hand suddenly pushes away. Harsh. Jimin leans over you instantly. Pining your hand next to your head tightly.

“No touching.” Growls. “Just take it like a good girl.” You suck in a sharp breath. “Yeah, fuck like that. Take it all baby. Fucking ahhhh.. take it.”

You’re pretty sure you’re drooling. His thrusts are turning animalistic. Is pounding you. You can hear him spill more filth, but all are becoming a white mess. Stars appearing behind your closed eyelids. You don’t need to touch your clit after all. Your third orgasm hits you like a shockwave. Making you choke on your sobs.

“Jimin... Jimin... oh, please…” You’re crying. Don’t even know why you’re begging. Body shaking. Wraps your legs around his waist feebly.

“I’m here baby. Let go. I got you. Like that, gonna cum too princess, shit, you’re squeezing me so tight. Mmhp… Fuck─” Jimin grits his teeth tightly as you reluctantly let go if him when he promptly pulls out. Ropes of his seeds shooting across your thigh. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Jimin keeps cursing. Spilling every last drop he can give into your skin. Until he can’t hold it up anymore and nearly collapse on you. Hiding his face on your neck. You know his knees must be wobbly now. You gently thread your fingers in his hair. Softly scraping his scalp when he purr into you. Draws back after couple minutes.

“Are you okay?” Breathes. You just hum in reply. Lying there in bliss. Jimin slowly withdraws from you. Taking the sight of your wrecked figure, covered in his cum. You watch as he reaches for a box of tissues. Grabbing few to clean you up. Almost dab it on your skin when your hoarse voice surprises you both. You don’t know what demon has possessed you.

“That’s such a waste.” Your own eyes go wide when Jimin shifts his eyes to your face.

“Jesus, Lil, what?” He knows what you’re implying. You can see his gaze darkening once again. You’re insatiable, aren’t you?

“Your cum.” Your heart is starting to race again.

“Yeah? God you’re fucking dirty. What do you want then? Want me to do this?” Jimin throws the tissues away. Doesn’t hesitate a bit when he coats two of his fingers with the white substance spilled over your thigh. Doesn’t mind a bit when he brings those fingers to your lips. You open them willingly, allowing Jimin to push his fingers inside you. Laps your tongue around them. Humming at the salty taste. Watching how Jimin visibly loses his mind again. He takes his fingers back, just to coat them again in his cum and to feed them to you. And again. You suck them off his fingers each time. Staring to squirm and writh again. But what makes you cry out is when he gathers the remaining of his seed for the fourth time. And instead of pushing his fingers in yours, he puts them inside his mouth. Sucking while looking you dead in the eye. You almost cum again.

“Holy, fuck Jimin…” You curse loudly, hips bucking up involuntarily.

“Again?” Jimin asks the moment he’s done with cleaning his own fingers.

“God yes.” You nearly jump at him. Pulling him into a frenzied kiss. Opening your legs again without a care. Giving him everything and taking all, you can. You don’t care anymore. Not at all. You don’t give a fuck about being the secret.

“Fuck yes baby.” Jimin mutters as he plunges his already hard cock inside your spent cunt again. “My pretty slut. Mine.”

You just moan. Pathetic. Yet so good.

You’re going to live this life. Going to make peace with it. Going to make peace with being the person you are now.

The Other Woman.

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a/n- Leave a note if you enjoyed this one!

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