#I even have a couple songs in mind for Law too

[cyber-punk-rock]

Working on a Brook character playlist. I had ideas for songs at work today and this one could be really good!! I’m so excited for it!

[caraetdeul]

Checkmate, I Couldn't Lose

Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader

You have a secret to tell and what's a better way to confess than through a toast during your wedding's reception?

TW: none other than Wonwoo's killer looks cuz that's a warning on itself.

A/n: this was supposed to be posted weeks ago but I never got to finishing it. And now that I have to cram on so many projects, my brain has decided that its time for the creative juices to push through my writer's block. This was also a sort of reprieve from the amount of angst that I wrote in Tolerate It so hopefully I did good. Anyways, enjoy reading caratdeul!

~Main Masterlist~

The cheers of your loved ones as they dance on the floor. The clinking of champagne glasses together as they congratulate you on a new life. The cold breeze on your white gown as you sway to a waltz rhythm with your husband close to your chest. Your arms around his shoulders and his hands settled on your hips.

It was the night of your lives and it was perfect.

You were well into the reception of your wedding. And honestly, you were having too much fun that you were sure you wouldn’t have a detailed recollection of everything that happened so far. It was a blur of happy faces and celebrations. But if there was one thing you will remember the most, it was the feeling of walking down the aisle, bouquet in hand, slowly inching towards the wonderful life that you will have with Wonwoo as your husband.

Now here you were, in each other’s arms as you swayed to the wedding playlist you both had a hand in creating (he knows that it was 1% his songs and the other 99% was yours but he also knows that you’ve been dreaming of a perfect wedding since you were a kid and he won’t be a hindrance to that). You can see the reflection of your wedding bands on the corner of your eye and you swear that you’ve never seen something shine as brightly as the ones you always see in your lover’s eyes up until now.

You would’ve danced the night away but alas, the event’s host has other plans. The music slowly faded to make way for the host to announce that it was time for some toasts.

Wonwoo huffed, “Do we really have to?”

“Oh honey,” you giggled, kissing the pout on his lips which made him smile, “We both know we won’t be leaving this place without hearing your drunk aunt’s speech about how you were so little when she first met you and how cute you looked in your little dia—”

“Okay, you can stop now,” he blushed, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, “Please tell me she actually won’t say any of that tonight.”

You just shrugged teasingly, earning another groan from him. Hand in hand, you led him back to your seats, laughing as he begged you for any reassurance that he wouldn’t be embarrassed any time soon. You then promptly shushed him when he tried bribing you with something about your honeymoon that you would rather not say in public.

That little shit, you thought as you narrowed your eyes at his smirk. You stopped yourself from slapping the smug look off of his face when he saw your face warming up, fully knowing where your mind had gone the moment he said it.

You were cut off from your thoughts when your sister went up on the stage, officially starting the toasts. You both settled in your chair with Wonwoo’s arm around your shoulder. Inhaling deeply, the two of you start to brace yourselves from the onslaught of inside jokes and nostalgic memories from your closest family and friends.

As each loved one went through their speech, you slowly started to feel your hands clam up with nerves. You didn’t even notice your leg bouncing until you felt Wonwoo’s hand on top of it. You glanced at him only to be met with his brows furrowed in concern. You shook your head with a smile, silently reassuring him that you were fine. He nodded in response before turning back to his father who was currently giving his own toast.

Ending with a lovely note to the wedded couple, your father-in-law gave the mic back to the host before going down the stage. You took multiple deep breaths to calm your nerves as you reached for the glass of water in front of you. Wonwoo watched in concern as you gulped down every last drop before putting the glass down.

“Hey,” he whispered, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, “Yep. Just stage fright getting on my nerves.”

He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head in confusion, “What do you mean stage fright?”

You were about to answer him when you heard the host finally call you up on stage. You could feel Wonwoo’s eyes following you as you stood up and got on the stage. You thanked the host as they gave you the mic before finally facing everyone.

“Hi,” you started nervously, chuckling when everyone actually responded hello back to you. 

“First of all, I want to thank each and every one of you for giving us your precious time to come here and celebrate with us on this very special day. This ceremony wouldn’t have been as happy as it is right now if any one of you were not here tonight.” you smiled, doing your best to make eye contact with as many people as possible.

“To all of those people who know me best, it’s probably a huge shock for them to see me standing here on stage and actually talking in front of a huge crowd,” you laughed, “To be fair though, I’m trying my best not to actually jump off the stage and run out of here. One of the two reasons that’s stopping me from doing that right now is the fact that I can’t really run in these heels and I would rather die than actually let you all see me trip and fall.” 

A chorus of laughter echoed throughout the hall. As the laughter dies down, so do your nerves a little bit. You thanked the heavens above for still having humor as your coping mechanism before continuing with your speech.

“As for the other reason, well…” you said, your voice gradually softening. You faced Wonwoo properly as you announced, “It’s because I have a confession to make.”

You licked your lips nervously. You watched as Wonwoo glanced at your parents, puzzled over what was happening but he was only met with the same uncertainty from them. He looked back at you with worry written all over his face. You have to stop yourself from swooning over the fact that you knew he was more worried about your well-being than whatever you were about to say.

“Love, I haven’t really been honest with you,” you sighed, “In fact, I haven’t been truly honest with you ever since we first met.”

~~~~~

You were late.

Well technically, you weren’t but you only had about 10 minutes before the movie starts and you’re still 2 blocks away from the theatre. Now, you were running for your life just so you could arrive on time and frankly, you didn’t really want to die in the hands of your best friend if she ever caught you late again.

You were nearing the entrance to the theatre when you saw your best friend Lila standing with 2 guys in front, the three of them seemingly distracted with whatever they were talking about. Once you were close enough, Lila finally looked up from their conversation. Her face lit up upon recognizing you, greeting you with her iconic bear hug. You were about to return the hug when she suddenly smacked you on the arm.

“Ow! What the hell?” you exclaimed, rubbing your arm.

“You’re late,” Lila grumbled, crossing her arms.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you whined, “I accidentally fell asleep watching Netflix and by the time I woke up, I knew that I would have to run to actually get here on time.”

“Fine, but you’re paying for the popcorn,” she huffed.

You groaned, “Okay, fair enough.”

Taking out your wallet, you were suddenly reminded of the fact that you two weren’t alone when one of them cleared their throat, successfully catching both of your attention. You looked up from your bag to the taller guy among the two.

“Well, Lila?” he asked, “Aren’t you going to introduce us to your lovely friend over here?”

“Oh right,” Lila chuckled. She then introduced you to the two and vice versa. The guy that just spoke was Mingyu and the other one—

Oh my fucking god.

The other one was breathtaking.

Is it possible that you were just so out of it from running that you were hallucinating an angel? You’re probably just hallucinating things but you were sure that actual flowers and hearts were floating around him like some cliche rom-com anime scene. Maybe the lack of oxygen was finally getting to your brain. That’s definitely more plausible than whatever is actually standing right in front of you. Because goddamnit, that face is too immaculate to be a real human being.

Now, that’s just fucking unfair to the minority.

“What’s unfair to the minority?”

“What?”

“What?”

And that’s when you actually notice that Mr. Born To Kill Me With His Face—you think his name was Wonwoo as far as you can remember before you got too caught up with your thoughts—was already looking at you with a smirk. Your face warmed up with embarrassment when you realized that he caught you staring at him, amusement written all over his face. Thankfully you were saved by the bell when Lila tugged you towards the theatre complaining about the movie already starting without you and you still haven’t bought any popcorn yet, effectively stopping you from making more of a fool out of yourself.

Dazed, you let her pull you towards the snack bar but not before you glanced back at Wonwoo, walking behind you alongside Mingyu. Catching his eye, you immediately turn back to face the counter. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you were the one who caught him staring at you just now and not the other way around. You smiled to yourself at the thought.

Once you got the food and drinks, you then made your way inside. Getting to your seats, you sat between Lila and Wonwoo. A mere coincidence to everyone but you. And as you gaze at him from the corner of your eye, his face being illuminated by the rainbow of colors from the screen, you have decided right then and there that you are getting this man one way or another and no one can stop you.

So if you accidentally brush hands with him as you reach for the popcorn you share, if you mistakenly take his drink instead of yours which was on your other side, if you subconsciously lean towards him as you laugh at a joke made by the actors in the movie, there’s nothing to say except it’s all just a mere coincidence.

~~~~~

“And that’s just the beginning of a long and tedious process of stealing your heart,” you grinned.

You started sharing memories of you two where you deliberately changed the course of your relationship. Throughout your speech, you tried your best to avoid looking directly at Wonwoo. The fear of seeing any trace of disappointment and disgust on his face from your actions kept you from making eye contact with him. But that didn’t stop you from confessing to every move you ever made. In fact, it only urged you to be honest more knowing that this is the only time you’ll have the guts to say all of these things. To be fair though, you probably should’ve said this in a more private manner but you can’t really do anything about it now that you’re almost done with sharing your stories.

Laughing as you shared a fond memory of you tricking your husband—then, boyfriend—into letting him think that his idea of your living room arrangement was all from him and not at all a perfectly timed series of suggestions from you, you raised your glass as you finish your toast, “Some of you may call me a genius and others may just think of me as some long con artist. But in all honesty, none of these would’ve ever happened if there wasn’t a single drop of love in between the both of us,. And with that, I want to toast to our married life. May this be a life that will serve as the epitome of our love for each other.”

A round of cheers and applause echoed across the hall as you stepped down from the stage and walked towards your seat beside Wonwoo. Biting your lip, you gazed at him, trying to gauge his reaction to your speech/confession. You didn’t know what to expect to hear from him after all of that but a wide smirk on his face as he whispered his own confession to you was definitely not one of them.

“I knew.”

“What? How?”

“You may be a mastermind but you definitely aren’t subtle enough.”

Wonwoo’s smirk widened even more as he witnessed your cheeks heating up from embarrassment, amused at the way you tried defending yourself. He chuckled before kissing you on the lips, effectively shutting you up.

Once he felt you relax under him, he pulled back a bit from you, far enough for him to watch as you tried to chase after his lips but not too far for you to not hear what he had to say next.

“I love you, my little machiavellian.”

You grinned widely, pecking his lips once more before replying, “I love you too.”

Taglist: @moonwonuu @belladaises @porridgesblog @sasaapportela @allys-reads @clownprincehoeshi @yoonzzziino @gyuguys

[strawbeerossi]

If You Leave Me

Pairing: Fem!reader x Spencer Reid

Description: After coming home, Spencer has nightmares of his wife leaving him after the weight of prison weighs on him after his release.

Content Warnings: Depression, mentions of problems with eating, nightmares, fear of abandonment, mention of parental abandonment, spoilers for the prison arc, mentions of blood and being beaten, anxiety, there’s a panic attack, general angst, light fluff towards the end

Word Count: 1.4K

Navigation || Masterlist || Join My Taglist || Request

'The Show' is so amazing, so I might make more based on each song on the album.

“Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future.” John F Kennedy.

Spencer had faced change for his whole life. Between his father leaving him with no explanation when he was a child to his mother’s schizophrenia spiralling, he was the poster child for adapting to the plethora of things that life can throw at you and making the best of things.

Child abandonment coupled with a mother whose illness was worsening, there was a lot of pressure on him at a young age. Spencer wanted to take care of his mother, make sure she was safe and sound. He enjoyed lying with her and reading, spending his time with the woman who he cared for. He struggled with making many friends.

Not a lot of high schoolers want to be friends with a twelve-year-old child prodigy. He was the target of relentless bullying, his safest place being home where he could read in the comfort of his own bedroom.

Most children who had any form of trauma as a child turned out to be psychopaths, incapable of empathy and most who exhibited those symptoms were serial killers, he was quite the opposite. Spencer would say that he turned out alright. 

Three PHDs, being a supervisory special agent for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, as well as being a literal genius. He had a team of people who loved him dearly, a good amount of godchildren who he adored, as well as a beautiful wife who did so much for him.

When Spencer was imprisoned, his experience killed a piece of him. The once sweet, innocent Dr. Spencer Reid was now a man who was more prone to showing his complex emotions, his temperament changing. He wasn’t nearly as talkative, he was having a harder time processing things that used to take him mere seconds to understand. It was why they had placed him on a weird schedule; every one hundred days spent in the field would have thirty days off following behind. He thought it was the stupidest decision they made.

Despite all of his protests, nobody would hear him out. It brought on the thoughts of him being untrustworthy. After all, he did kill Nadie Ramos. He may have been under the influence of drugs but that didn’t excuse a damn thing. He killed her with his bare hands. 

That haunted him. The fact that he could be capable of madness, capable of murder. It didn’t help that soon after, he was producing a tampered batch of drugs that he was being forced to push within those four cement walls.

Everyone told him that it wasn’t his fault, that some people were pushed to dark acts in order to ensure their survival. After all, a federal agent in the general population sector was a huge target, someone who would have a lot of enemies. Too many enemies.

After his release, there came a plethora of emotions. Y/N was a saint, patient as could be and more loving than he ever could’ve hoped for. Even when he was dissociating into his mind to shield him from all too familiar territory, she was right there. It had gotten to a point where he severely depended on her, the attachment so strong that he would follow her around the house as if he were a kitten who needed constant attention. 

Dinner was hard, the man having to be reminded that he could take his time to eat and he had no risk of someone coming and taking it whether he allowed them to or not. There were nights where he wouldn’t take a packet of cookies from his wife, stressing over having to ‘pay her back’. It took a lot to break him out of that routine.

Don’t get him started on the nightmares. They were vivid, placing him back to the night when he was beaten in prison or to the day where Luis Delgado had his throat slit in front of him because of his own choices. It was like he could still feel the warmth of the crimson blood staining his hands in the failed attempt to stop the bleeding. 

In addition to nightmares that were filled with blood and violence, there was another recurring nightmare. One that killed him more than any sort of guilt of association ever could. It started out the same way every time, he would come in the house after a long winded case. There would be a lot of stress on his shoulders, a tightening in his chest because of the fact the case didn’t end the way the team had anticipated. He would then walk into the kitchen, where Y/N would be waiting for him. There was no sweet greeting, no kiss against his lips while she hugged him and cried about missing him. 

Instead there was a tense silence, the usually warm apartment freezing. She would turn to him, her eyes filled with exhaustion, no glimmer of love shining over them as they faced one another.

“I can’t do this anymore. You aren’t who you used to be, this time by myself has made me realize that I am much happier without you here. I don’t have to coddle you, treat you like a baby. I just can’t bring myself to love you anymore.” 

Spencer was waking up in a cold sweat, his body jolting upwards on the mattress while his other hand was quickly, yet cautiously reaching beside him to feel his wife’s shoulder. The touch had Y/N stirring awake, a gentle frown on her face. “Spencer?” Her voice was filled with drowsiness, her hands slowly pushing her to sit up on her knees while her free hand was leaning over to turn on the bedside lamp. 

Any form of annoyance from drowsiness was wiped away when she noticed her husband’s state. His face was drenched in sweat, his chest was heaving from the impending anxiety attack, he was unable to talk as his body trembled. “Shh, hey.” Y/N whispered as she was shuffling closer, pulling back the duvet so she could carefully pull her husband into her arms. 

Her fingers were threading through the messy curls, a weak sigh leaving her lips as she could feel his arms tightly wrap around her torso, practically squeezing the life out of her.

“I’m here. It’s okay, baby, I promise. Luis dream again?” She asked softly, her lips pressing a kiss to the crown of his skull.

“You left.” His voice was hoarse, the tears joining in soaking his face the same way that the sweat had done over the course of the night. “Baby..” Y/N whispered while her fingers were lightly scratching over his scalp, her cheek resting against his head as she was being hugged tightly, as if she would disappear if Spencer let her go. “I’m not going anywhere. You know that.” Her words were dipped in that sweet assurance, her eyes slowly fluttering shut. 

Spencer faced enough people who abandoned him in his life with little to no explanation, she could never be added to that list. He spent three long and gruelling months in a maximum security prison for a murder that he was pushed into doing under the influence of a drug that Cat Adams and Lindsey Vaughn got their hands on. 

This wasn’t like he was a man who snapped and murdered an innocent woman because of deterioration of his sanity. He was absolutely nothing like the men and women he hunted down for his job, she tried to push that every time that she could. “You’re a good man, you know that. I would be a fool to leave you.” She said softly. 

As her body was eventually laying down against the mattress, she couldn’t help but smile once Spencer quickly followed her movements. Her legs were spreading in order to invite him between them, the male laying on top of her as his head was against her chest. “There we go..” She cooed softly, her fingers continuing to comb through the tousled curls. 

With his cheek now smashed against his wife’s chest, he listened to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. 

The drumbeat mixed his wife’s sweet words of assurance and the warmth of her love radiating against him was enough to have Spencer starting to drift off to sleep. 

How did he manage to get so lucky to have a woman who wouldn’t give up on him?

[leclsrc]

stay, at least for breakfast ✴︎ cl16

genre: angst, just. angst, fluff

word count: 9.2k

You love once and miss always.

notes... internet translated ita/fre, non linear format so might b a tad confusing but thats it

auds here... this fic is a tad long sry. many thanks to mack who recommended the most painful songs to me that got me through writing the last couple of scenes. ik i said i wasn’t sure when i’d release this but here it is :)

You’re the only person Pierre knows in New York, so you’re the first one he calls. You suggest you meet just at your place, so you can smoke more freely, because so many people complain about the smell these days. You stall. You say the L train is broken. You say you’re tied up with work at the firm. But Pierre sees through you and eventually you meet anyway.

He looks the same, and just seeing him reminds you of so much. Shadows and outlines of memories long gone. You try to keep up the pretense of being okay, to remember that truly, your mind has been elsewhere lately—off everything, off the memories, on work, on cases. You try not to bring him up, even if it’s inevitable that he arises; you keep conversation to a polite minimum. 

Pierre offers a cigarette, a Camel light. You’re a fourth’s way through the stick.

“He asks about you, sometimes.” And then just like that, your world has ceased to turn.

“Oh?” A beat. “What do you say?”

“Just the usual. You’re working on this and that case for the law firm… you went to Greece in the summer.”

You and Pierre are still close, but it’s difficult to forget why. You two are connected by Charles, by a friendship so sacred it warranted a dinner for a Pierre-exclusive introduction. You’d grown close then, and when the breakup happened, it became hard for Pierre to maintain close contact with both of you. 

Selfishly, you wanted him to see how broken you were, so he could report it all back to Charles, etch every last detail of your pain. But Pierre is more mature than he’s given credit for.

“Okay.” You say blankly, unsure of how to bridge a less tense topic.

Perhaps sensing the apprehension, Pierre does it instead. “Do you remember when we bought shaving cream and made Charles look like Santa?”

It was in here in Manhattan, you recall, when Charles had dragged Pierre along with him to visit you over winter, when he’d been dating you for nearly two years at the time. Your flat was just above a bodega that had a comical amount of cheap cans of shaving cream that you and Pierre had found so absolutely silly, birthing a series of Charles-related pranks. After your grocery run, you’d returned to your place, where your boyfriend was fast asleep, mouth half open.

Shh. Quiet, you’d said, spurting shaving cream along his chin, his jaw, laughing silently.

Pierre had followed suit until finally, a beard of Nivea Men bounded down to Charles’ torso. You’d snapped a picture; the shutter sound had woken him up to a red-faced you and Pierre.

He was a good sport about it, kissed you with laughter, so you, too, had a beard of froth. Pierre took a Polaroid with a gifted camera of you on Charles’ lap, arms entwined around his neck, both of you bubbly with the cream, cheeks achy with smiles and laughter. You pretend to forget where it is, to forget that it’s tucked in a box you open once in a while. 

“I miss him sometimes, you know.” The confession rips through you, exacerbated by the cigarette.

“I know.” Says Pierre, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You realize maybe it is.

I still have so much love for him, you wish to say. But where will I put it? Will I keep this inside of me forever? A great, monstrous, shameful thing it is, to love somebody who’s left. But here I am doing it, trying to fill a void that feels like a crater. Where do I put this love? Maybe I can give it to somebody else, somebody new—but I’d say it’s not the same.

You think you’ll always hold a torch to Charles, even when the fire burns through the wood, ash trickling onto your arm until it hurts. And even then, when the light’s gone, when the flame’s wounded you and licked deep into your heart and bones, like it has now, you’ll linger, still holding this torch, still yearning, still unwanting to let go. Still loving. How desperate, you think. How human.

You clear your tobacco-flavoured throat. “It’s em—it’s embarrassing,” you say instead, throat closing up midway, in a futile attempt to water down your intense emotions. They threaten to crawl up your throat, force secrets out of you with the ease of ripping a piece of paper in half.

“Is it?” He asks, open-ended. “N’est-il pas honorable d'être si aimant?”

“Pas si ce n’est pas réciproque.” You scoff.

But he’s relentless, persistent in his pursuit to prove a point. “No. Love isn’t embarrassing, or pathetic, when it’s one-sided. It means more that way, when it’s not reciprocated. It means you’re selfless. It means the love is real.” He turns toward you, and in a billow of smoke, asks, “Does it not?”

You stare, left speechless. All you muster is: “Va te faire foutre.” 

—

You exit the room at eight-thirty with your toothbrush still foaming in your mouth. You stretch your arms over your head, combing a hand through your bedhead. Your eyes are half-shut, and already you smell it before you see it.

Pausing in your tracks, you rub the sleep out of your eyes. “Charles?” You call out, still out of the kitchen’s view. You try to remember if he was in bed when you crawled out, but your mind was still cloudy then, and the desire to pee took precedence.

You turn toward the bedroom door. “Charles, come out here. I think something’s on fire in the kitchen. Babe!”

You speedwalk, concern taking over—you didn’t pay enough attention to fire drills in primary school, clearly. Once you peek into the kitchen, however, your concern is only exacerbated, but not nearly as much as the extreme confusion that begins to well up inside you. There, at your stove, is your boyfriend himself, clearly fully awake and conscious, and holding a frying pan in mid-air that’s billowing smoke.

Having heard your voice already, he feels your presence and turns slowly. His gaze blinks from the pan in his grip to your totally incredulous stare.

“I can…” He pauses. “I’ll try to explain.”

“Very smart save, babe,” you say, but it’s muffled by your toothbrush.

“You sound stupid,” he retorts.

You remove the toothbrush and try to speak as coherently as you can through the spearmint foam. “I don’t think you’re in a position to be giving me criticism right now.”

“Fair,” he says, flitting his gaze over to where he holds the frying pan in mid-air. “I will explain as soon as you rinse your mouth. I promise.” You narrow your eyes, wondering if maybe this is another tactic to get himself out of trouble, but you figure it makes sense. If you’re going to scold him, might as well not spray toothpaste everywhere.

You grab your phone on your way back, where the disarray has not subsided in the least. He’s wearing your kiss the chef apron, stained with grease and pancake batter, both vital ingredients to bacon and flapjacks, neither of which are to be seen anywhere.

“What’s going on, Charles?”

“I wanted to cook you a surprise breakfast. But I can’t get the stove right.”

“Tu es fou.” You laugh, inspecting the smoke-scented pan. “Pourquoi n'avez-vous pas simplement pris à emporter?”

“Je voulais être pensif!” He defends, pouting. “Sorry. I’ll clean up the mess.” He deposits a batch of dishes at the sink as you watch in amusement. Your boyfriend is usually a good cook, you’ll say—he makes a mean stack of pancakes, and anybody can cook bacon, really. You suppose this is all just one honest mistake, born from a desire to surprise you on this morning.

He’s scrubbing at the pan when you wrap your arms around him in a backhug. “Thank you anyway. You’re the sweetest, Charles.”

He turns, a bubble of dish soap on the tip of his nose and hums. “Does this get me boyfriend points?”

“Alright, Jesus, a hundred of them.” You smile fondly, meeting his lips in a soft kiss. He makes you toast as compensation, takes the time to cut the crusts off the bread and the pulp out of the orange juice and the big bits out of the jam. He does his best, perfecting the art of toast and breakfast and, by extension, making you happy.

—

“Un amaretto sour, une bouteille de rose et un dirty martini,” you order smilingly in smooth, sure French.

The waiter nods and after thanks are exchanged, he leaves your table alone. In your limited knowledge of Paris, you’ve chalked it up to a few things: many people will be rude, the serving sizes will be petite, and the men will be anything but trustworthy. You’ve tried them before and they all go the same way, slipping out of hotel rooms with disarming desolés, buttoning their polos as they go.

So here you are, characteristically silent, because your friend is flirting with a guy and you refuse to do the same. 

“You speak French?” The guy across you asks curiously. He talks like he’s always smiling, eyes turning into half-crescents. He’s accented, but you’re unsure of the origin—it sounds French, in the same way it kind of doesn’t. You nod politely.

“Ah? Où est-ce que vous l'avez appris?”

“Université,” you respond. “J’ai etudie le langue français, mais… est trés difficil.” He laughs, nodding like you’ve said the funniest thing in the world. Half-crescents.

“I’m Charles. I grew up—I’m from Monaco, so I speak it. And Italian. Joris and I.” He elbows his friend, who your friend is flirting with. Oh, Monaco. So… not French.

“I’ve never been,” you say, letting yourself loosen up a bit more. 

“It’s very small. You should go sometime.” An implication of something hangs in the air, like clouds over France. You smile, bashful, nodding along. 

“I’ll make sure to.” The drinks arrive and flow through the night, laughter passed along the table like wine. At some point you and Charles get up to dance, but are quickly put to your chairs by the waiter—you mutter some slurred remark about how why play music if you can’t dance?! 

But he is funny, and charming, and pretty. You find yourself staring at him in a very desperate, schoolgirl crush way, lip bitten and cheeks warm when he catches you.

Later that night, tipsy off the alcohol, Charles the Monegasque presses a kiss to your cheek and asks, shyly, if you’d like to come to his hotel. You tease him, just to see the half-crescents again, and then you’re in his car and in his room, top pulled off and bra unclasped, laughing drunkenly into his neck when the pleasure reaches its crux. And you hope he doesn’t ask you to leave the next day, drifting into sleep with his arm slung over your waist.

—

You like Charles’ voice in real life.

This is because it means you feel it more than hear it, a low thrum through his chest and into your ear. It lets you know he’s close by, which is the best kind of reassurance, because he never usually is. It doesn’t matter what he talks about—the day past or about to begin, racing, family—all you can really digest is the amount of love and care he puts into his words.

Most of the time you hear his voice through the layered, stuffy audio of your phone or your laptop, when they can’t quite catch up to his lips, when the Internet lag is just that awful. If you’re lucky, he sounds more like himself, but nothing compares to hearing it for real, the whispers and murmurs and roughness of it all. He’s here, and you’re home, content just to listen.

You’re in Monaco; it’s your fourth day here. You’re off school for two weeks before you dive into midterms, so you spend it in Europe, because you haven’t seen Charles in ages. Lately he’s been pixels, voice memos, bubbles of words. But now he’s Charles, real, tangible, yours.

Life has become easier when he’s around, a fact wholly owed to his presence. When he’s here, you feel at ease, like laughter is effortless and loving is natural. But there is a ticking timebomb you sleep on, and it’s your impending departure, your flight back to the city, your resuming of normal life. Of life without him.

“I’ll be in Geneva next week,” he tells you, voice throaty from having just woken up. They’re the first words out of his mouth after he hangs up the early morning phone with Andrea. It’s an invite, even if it’s phrased as a statement; he awaits your affirmation, should it come. He invites you to these things often, as a way to introduce you more into his world. The words rumble through him, slowly onto your fingertips that waltz silently across his bare chest. They skate while you formulate a response.

“Okay,” you say quietly, half-asleep still. “I have… a huge recitation coming up, so I don’t think I can make it. Criminal law.”

He tenses, and you feel it. But his words say something else. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I wish I could,” you say, as compensation. It’s what you’ve both grown used to lately, wishing. Wishes that, for all your trying, never seem to come true. I wish I could make it. I wish I could visit. I wish we could celebrate together. I wish I was there for the podium, or the grades release, or the job offer phone call. I wish, I wish, I wish, and not much of anything else. Just wishing. Wishing, wanting, never getting.

“Yeah,” he says, sighing. “I wish you could, too.”

The dissonance between the voice that rumbles through him and into you—comforting—and the words that leave—a touch too sharp—strikes through you like electricity. “I’m sorry,” you say achingly, and the morning is silent as you both fall back into ignorant, blissful sleep.

—

“Aaaaand that pretty much evens us out to a solid 12-3.”

You finish tracking the score on your Notes app, closing your phone and facing your boyfriend’s pouting face of defeat. 

As always, the loser packs up the chessboard first—the wooden pieces click noisily against each other as he folds up the game, to be won (by you, no doubt) another time. Between work and the general upkeep of a relationship that’s constantly long distance, you and Charles find it difficult to begin and maintain romantic traditions.

But there’s always the assurance of chess. To air out grievances, to pass the time, to play footsie under the table. You and Charles always play, keeping a seasonal tally of near-daily games—during flights, pre and post race, after sex, at brunches with family.

“You’ve been cheating,” he accuses jokingly, storing the chessboard and inviting you onto his lap.

You’re in Nice today, housesitting for a friend while Charles spends time off racing. He claims it’s sufficient practice for when you one day buy a place together; two, at that: one in New York and one in Monaco. The days have passed in chess games, pots of coffee, and slow dances in the kitchen while you wait for pasta to boil or rice to cook. 

“You’re just jealous,” you tease, clambering atop him. Your arms loop around his neck, his around your waist. “Don’t worry. The tally will restart in September.”

“I’ll best you then.” Here, in this still moment of silence, where the sunlight from outside filters in just right and illuminates every detail of Charles’ face, you can almost feel your heart swell to an unimaginable size. You connect the moles and freckles with the tip of your pinky, traveling lower until it rests softly against his lips. He smiles, flexing against your touch. 

“Sore loser,” you say, flirtatious, playing with his hair.

“I think I keep losing,” he starts, hands tightening around your frame, “because every time I see you, I forget how to do the most ordinary things.”

You bite back a smile. “Hey, don’t try to charm yourself into a win.”

“Can’t help it, the winner’s too pretty,” he teases back; your lack of retort leads you to press your face into his chest. He smells like he always smells, clean and woody and a bit like your own perfume, your pretty boy. You inhale, breathe him in and ground yourself. Here, miles away from Monaco, even farther from Manhattan, you are home.

—

“How do you tell people you broke up?”

“I say we wanted different things,” you reply, two puffs into your second Camel.

A white lie, a half-truth, a rehearsed answer after being asked the same repetitive question so many times. You and Charles broke up because at that point, nothing about you made sense. You were growing older, and with age came the stupefying realization that nonsense wasn’t always romantic. If it didn’t make sense, it never would. But you did want the same things, you suppose, at least to some extent.

You know you wanted marriage. After law school, it had to be, and in Europe, somewhere sunny and windy and flowery with a sea nearby. A small affair, family and friends. You know you wanted kids, two or three, a bunch of Charles lookalikes, tufts of light hair and bouts of crazy energy. You know you wanted a house—not a flat, a house, a brownstone in Manhattan, a big property in Monaco. You wanted so much of the same things.

Perhaps that is why Pierre will never understand the magnitude of the way you miss Charles. You dream of him when you’re awake, of the times you spent together that finished abruptly. You look for him in everyday objects. You keep the tissue paper conversations, you want to say, even if it’s so, so mortifying, so raw to admit it.

“But you didn’t,” says Pierre, because he knows it.

“We didn’t. But what other explanation is there?” Where a concrete summary of your breakup is supposed to be, there lies grey matter, webs of explanation spanning years and months and questions unanswered. 

“I get it,” he replies. But he’s not you, or Charles, so he doesn’t.

—

Charles looks at you and imagines your smiling face in every moment of his future. Holding a child, under a veil, half-asleep in the morning, flushed and warm after a few beers.

You’re—you’re you, and he just loves you, in a way he will never be able to articulate. He drives for a living—he looks at all kinds of statistics, worded and encoded onto machines and computer screens. But this love isn’t quantifiable. Not in numbers, not in speed, not in words, stanzas of Italian. His love for you is indescribable; it exists in a wordless plane, massive and all-encompassing, carved and chiseled finely.

When you’re absent, the world seems duller, a bit more empty. But it’s okay, he thinks—you’re here now, across the room, in nothing but lingerie, your dress pooled at your feet. You’ve both just arrived from another social gathering, with so many people, and an afterparty arranged by Max.

You’d utilized your well-used secret signal for parties that directly translated to “let’s go home”—bringing up peanut butter meant you were well past exhausted and needed to leave. One “the dessert would’ve been so good with peanut butter” later and you’re here. Years of being together means you’ve both created a vocabulary all your own, lexicon and phonetics making up a language of love and familiarity. Nobody else will ever get this, he thinks. It’s just yours.

You’re removing your makeup in the mirror, and oh, well, you’re beautiful. He wonders what he has to do now to be able to find you in the next life, to be able to meet your eyes again for the first time and fall in love with you the way he did.

You’re what he looks for after a race, after a win, after a DNF. So he can, if just for a moment, let his guard down and allow himself to be yours, yours and only yours, collapse into your arms from ache and overwhelm and find reprieve there. With you, he lets himself go, lets the façade fall, lets himself stay in your touch before he deems himself ready to be with the rest of the world.

“Hey, you,” you call, and he blinks. “Eyes up here, buddy.”

“I just love you,” he says sleepily. 

You tug on a nightshirt—his, from ages ago—and crawl into bed beside him, raising a teasing brow. “Sex is off the table.”

He laughs. “I wasn’t trying to get into your pants.”

“Good,” you half-yawn, yanking the lamplight closed and nestling yourself beside him. “I look horribly un-sexy.”

“The shirt’s kinda doing it for me.”

“Go to sleep.”

—

It’s raining today, for the first time in a dull stretch of weeks. The fall comes in angry, noisy sheets, made more furious by the wind. Wrapped in one of his hoodies, you clasp a mug in your hands, staring sullenly out the window, wondering when Charles will be home. Something has shifted in the weeks since you last saw each other, since you flew back out to New York and Charles didn’t finish in the last race.

Sometimes everything feels impossible to touch, like you don’t know what the next step is, let alone how to take it. There’s a certain uncertainty to where you stand, a possibility that, if the seconds tick just right, everything will crash down. This isn’t a feeling you’ve ever had before, but you suppose this is the only way to learn how to deal with it.

It’s comforting, then, when you hear the keys jingle at the door.

Your flat, as expensive as it is, has a quirk to it; the door only opens when you jerk it with your knee twice. You hear it, the double thump, and in almost childish excitement, you set your mug down and pad gently over to the foyer, so you’re ready for him when the door opens. Everytime you’re apart for this long, the routine is standard, and first thing you do is hug—so hard, so tight, your legs wrapped around his waist, his face in your neck.

“Hey,” Charles says, seeing you wait idly by the front door. You inch forward, but freeze. He heaves his luggage in, smiling softly, tiredly almost, pressing a brief kiss to your cheek and then disappears into the bedroom. The lump in your throat doesn’t go away when you slowly realize the hug you’d awaited, prepared for even, does not come.

You follow him instead, to the bedroom, where he’s still quiet, shirtless and picking out something from the drawers. He turns when he hears you. “Have you seen my grey hoodie?”

“Yeah, it’s in the wash.” You pause. “I used it last week, sorry.”

“I tol—it’s,” he says, inhaling, “it’s fine.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, taken aback by how affected he is. “I can get it dried.”

“It’s okay.” He insists, a bit sharply, tugging on a different shirt instead.

The air is thick, threatening to break, and you’re hopeless, lost, left wondering—what the hell is going on. You try your best anyway, humming as you take a seat on the bed and fold the bits of laundry you’d abandoned in the morning.

“Pascale’s inviting us over tomorrow,” you open, finishing a pair of shorts and depositing them into the drawers. Your arms wrap around him, and he holds them there. This is good, you think. This is okay. “For brunch, because Arthur’s going to be home. I told her okay—since I’m back in New York by Tuesday and you’ll be in Italy then, too. We haven’t had brunch with your family in forever. God, they’re going to be asking questions about marriage, and engagement, and ki—”

“Stop.” The room goes still. “Why did you tell her okay?” He asks, disengaging the hug and turning toward you fully. 

You’re like a deer in the headlights, confused, lost all over again.

“Charles?” You prod, gently. “Is… are you okay? I mean, we always greenlight brunch.”

You watch him pinch his nose bridge, exhale, close his eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” You echo, stepping forward. He steps back, avoidant.

“Don’t,” he says. “Please, just… don’t.”

You’ve heard this often lately. In fact, no—you’ve maybe felt this more than heard it. This—this distance, this space, this push. Every call unanswered, every flight missed, every text answered with a brief, apathetic OK. You can’t quell the fear, the panic swelling in your chest, because you can feel him floating away, just out of grasp.

“Talk to me,” you say, because it’s the only thing that can bring itself to leave your mouth. It’s weak, it’s desperate, lacking composure and firmness. “Nous pouvons travailler à travers cela.”

“Non,” he says, as if he knows it already. “This, I—I just. I think I just need some space.”

Space.

“Okay,” you say. “I’ll be in the living room.”

“No, I’ll go,” he insists, like he’s doing you a favor. I’ll save us the nasty fight, he seems to convey. I’ll go. So he does—grabs a coat and wrestles himself out of the door, with barely anything left to reassure you, just a short kiss and a hand on your hair. It’s performative, you know this, but you’ll take it. You don’t have much to accept these days.

The night passes, still and quiet, without the jingle of keys or the double thump at the door.

Even in memory and introspection you will come to find this moment and remain capable of recounting every thread of detail, ones as small as the eyes of needles, every prick of pain that pokes at you. Because even if you see him the day next, and even if he greets you with a kiss, and pulls you aside to apologize profusely, and even if you feel so loved in this very moment, with hugs from Pascale and jokes from Arthur and check-ins with Lorenzo, the fact has secured, burrowed itself into the dark crevice of your heart.

You will look back on this one day, and think, with the kind of certainty so crushingly absolute: yes, this is when it all went wrong.

—

“Is he seeing anybody?” Halfway through the third stick.

“No,” Pierre says, blowing smoke out into the air.

“Be honest.”

He snorts. “D’accord. An Italian girl, few months ago, but it’s over. It was quick. Very. And you?”

The information makes you weak in ways you refuse to share. “Just… testing things out with this guy.”

“Does he know about Charles?”

The silence is telling. “About Charles” is an awfully broad topic. 

Charles was such a big part of who you are, and who you’ve been, and what you’ve been through. How would you even begin telling somebody about you both? The bits and pieces, the great figure eight, the tiny infinity. The moments within the moments, memories within memories. The love. The way you loved, the way you sought him, the way you have yet to replicate the feeling of loving him, the way you wait for the next life, so you can seek him all over again. 

There is “does he know Charles,” and there is “does he know about Charles,” and the two are so cruelly separate and different. Anyone can know Charles; he is, after all, world-famous. You don’t know how he’s doing in motorsport these days, because a lot of the time the Google search for his name suggests ex girlfriend right beside it, and that’s enough to stun you into not searching again. But still he’s famous and renowned, so of course he’d be known. But for someone to know about him, what he meant to you—it feels like you’d be reciting a novel in an effort to explain how the both of you began, became, and ended. Reciting sonnets and stanzas of prose, of moments painfully intimate, of habits that have yet to die, of things you wished to be taught by him. 

“So, no.” You nod softly.

—

The possibility of spending Christmas with either of your families grows thin as December begins. Between final exams and racing meetings, neither of you give, discussing over hours-long calls and coordinating calendars. You find that your only common free day is the seventh of January, which is effectively well past the holidays. You’ve sunk into a pile of misery at the very real chance of spending the holidays by yourself. It’s not a pretty idea, despite the fact that you’ve befriended loneliness lately.

Outside your window, Manhattan is caked in snow; it reminds you of Santa Claus Charles, with his foamy frizzy beard and kisses of froth and the Polaroid on the fridge. You wonder if Charles, wherever he is in Europe now—traveling multiple times a day—remembers you, too, in these little mundane things.

He’d called on the third of December, when it was three in the morning in New York. You picked up after two rings, busy studying, and mumbled a sleepy hello into the receiver.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, clearly excited over something. 

“Bit early, honey.” You’d said back amusedly, highlighting phrases on the textbook.

“Just saying it now, because the next time you hear me say these words, it’ll be in New York.”

You didn’t register his words until you realized you’d tinted two entire paragraphs fluorescent yellow.

You blinked. “Wait, what’d you say?” 

“I’m there by the twenty-fifth, evening. Found a sweet spot in my calendar thanks to Joris.”

“If you’re joking, Charles, I swear—”

“I’ll see you then,” he had said; even then you could hear his smile through the scratchy audio of international calls.

That’s what you’re doing here, over your stove cooking chicken to commemorate your first Christmas together. You stick a thermometer inside it, busying your mind with thoughts of dinner instead of the fact that you haven’t spoken to your supposed guest in over a week.

Like many fights lately, this began over something irrational and grew into a serious, temperamental discussion about your future.

About moving in together and how impossible it seemed. About raising kids or getting engaged. Everything was written on different pages for the two of you. Your plans were always years too early, years too late, never aligning. Bilingual paragraphs eventually devolved into exhausted intermittent texts, check-ins if it mattered, and barely any concrete discussion at all.

It’s mortifying to have to say the phrases “like many fights lately.” You wonder what it proves about the two of you, about the relationship you share. Has it gone sour? No, you tell yourself. But this yogurt dip will, if I don’t put it in the fridge. You wipe your hands off after you do, rechecking your phone; still no texts or calls or updates. He’d texted this morning, a brief and simple see you soon, but hadn’t responded to your text.

Chicken, mashed potatoes, candles ready to be lit. You fiddle with the pink Bic, lighting and unlighting, sighing. 

You dial the airline eventually. They man both public and private flights, so they should know something about his jet. Something, anything—any tidbit of information is useful to you right now. You’re embarrassed, alone on Christmas in a dress you thought was beautiful hours ago but now only seems over the top and mocking. A woman picks up your call after it’s transferred thrice.

I just need to know the ETA of this flight, you say. Under Charles Leclerc. He gave me the flight code. 

Silence. You hear the bustle of the airport on the other end and wonder if Charles is there in that bustle, in his puffer jacket he uses in the winter, holding a suitcase and waiting for the delayed plane. Or maybe he’s already here in your timezone, in a cab bumbling with excitement, or in the elevator, or right outside, fist posed in front of the door—

A snowstorm, she says, her voice tinny through the phone. The pity in her voice makes you want to smash the landline to pieces. So sorry. If you’d gotten your husband to book just two days earlier, you two would’ve been together. Why don’t you call him, sweetie?

She is right about the unsolicited booking advice, wrong about the title. Charles is not your husband. You hang up after mumbling something you can no longer remember, too exhausted to be rude or polite at this point, and turn to face your dining room. Your texts go unanswered, and in your earlier effort to save energy, the lack of heating has caused your phone screen to grow cold to the touch. The roast chicken is getting cold now, too, the mashed potatoes cool, the sourdough stale, the butter melted into ugly coagulated puddles, the wine sweating all over the table.

You eat two bites before depositing a clean plate at the sink. The flat smells of pine and citrus; it’s stronger because you’re by yourself, with no Charles to cloud the room with his own scent. Your phone remains silent, your heart drowning slowly in a cloud of imprecise sorrow. And you realize, remembering the airline officer’s words as you unplug the lights from the Christmas tree and let the moonlight swallow the room, that Charles is not your boyfriend, either.

He texts the morning next, says he’ll make it on the next flight, twenty-six. He doesn’t apologize and you unwrap presents alone, from friends, shipped from family. You wallow in your loneliness, humiliated by your need for him, a need that is met only on the seventh of January.

—

“Are you and Charles okay?”

Lorenzo is always the first to ask. He’s intuitive, and you think maybe it comes with age, but damn if it isn’t infuriating when he knows something is up before anyone else. You purse your lips, hope your laugh is a good enough substitute for an answer.

“Are you?” Obviously, it’s not.

“We’re… we’re just working through things.” You’ve had two glasses of bourbon, and your eyesight is blurring the way your words do. You’re in a big Manhattan ballroom, just several floors underneath your hotel room. Charles is somewhere socializing, because of course he is, and you can’t take your mind off school, because of course you can’t.

“But you’re good, right?” He sounds hopeful, like your answer is the only thing that can convince him. Does he think you aren’t? What has Charles been telling him? Your breathing quickens, grows frantic.

“Yeah.” It convinces nobody, not even yourself. He nods, smart enough to drop the subject, and you’re alone again. This is the umpteenth gala you’ve been to this week alone, all for something or other along racing. You grow used to the faces, the introductions, the gentle nos when asked if you two are engaged, because why would you be? It’s a farfetched idea, engagement. 

The bathroom is half-full when you usher yourself inside in your gown, almost tripping with how fast you try to make it to the mirrors. There are two middle-aged women beside you lazily drawing lipstick onto their faces, their French accents thick as they converse.

“…So I decided to divorce him.”

You stare deep into the mirror. You look like a caricature of yourself, a puppet. Where is Charles? He overestimates your capability to be alone.

The other woman goes, “I can’t believe he didn’t see it coming.”

“I know! You’d think he would notice, no? Bah, men.”

“You’d felt it for a while then, too.”

“Tch, I really did. Just goes to show.”

Before you digest it, you’re turning and intrusively asking: “How did you know you wanted to divorce him?”

They exchange a look that’s as condescending as it is patronizing. Here you are, a naive twenty-something asking for relationship advice like you’re some know-it-all. You feel like a child suddenly, meek and curling in on yourself. Answer me, you want to say, tell me how it feels, tell me how you knew. You look petulant.

“Well,” she says, eyes meeting yours as she closes the tube of lipstick, “sometimes, dear, you just know.” It clicks closed.

“Yes,” says the other. “You just know. When you wake up one day and you feel it, that’s just it.”

Bullshit. Easy answer. You won’t know, you want to say.

No matter how stupid, how cliché, it sounds, you’ll never know this feeling. This feeling of nonchalance over a relationship lost, of laughter over unsuccessful love, of casually coloring the same lips that talk so abrasively of a lover. Because you have Charles, and Charles has you, and what else is there to know?

The rest are candles on a cake, kisses under a blanket, orange juice served over toast, arguments that end with compromise and a hug. The rest is love. These two know nothing about it. They know hurt and heartbreak and denial. They know nothing but this sad, sad feeling.

It must be sad to know, you think, even if the exact suffocating feeling crawls up your spine and wraps around your throat on the elevator ride back to the room.

—

This is boring

You scan over the scribbled phrase on the embossed, no doubt above asking price, tissue paper given at this (granted, boring) charity ball. Stifling a laugh, you fish a pen out of your purse, rereading the words and judging your outgoing response. In neater penmanship, you quickly write a message below it.

OK let’s end things.

He laughs when he reads it, eyes crinkling into half-crescents, mouth in a wide, silent smile. He mulls over a response and when you get it—

No goodbye sex? Quelle poisse. You giggle, rolling your eyes and squeezing his hand underneath the table, putting your little game on pause lest you get in trouble for not listening to the speaker onstage. This kind of lovely, comedic push and pull is what keeps you always entertained with Charles; he always, without fail, manages to make you laugh. Your easy, instant, but equally profound connection to one another constantly has you revisiting the idea of soulmates, of destiny.

Prior to meeting, your and Charles’ lives were barely entwined. You were a law student in America, Charles a racing driver based in Europe. A year ago, to the date, you’d been in Paris on vacation, when a friend invited you out to get drinks somewhere along the Seine. You had three case studies waiting on your laptop, but something tugged at you to accept the invite. 

Had you not been up for drinks in Paris that night, for instance—you’d never have met. And the drinks wouldn’t have been suggested in the first place if Charles got home from a meeting early, expressing boredom over the phone to Joris, who relayed it to the girl he was currently flirting with, who relayed it to you. You would never have talked if you didn’t order cocktails in French, prompting him to ask where you learned the language. 

And if you hadn’t, in a haze of rosé and amaretto sours, accepted the handsome guy’s invite back to his hotel—where would you be now? The series of little things make up where you are now. 

“Je t’aime,” he whispers into your hair.

But, then again, Charles has never felt like a stranger. You’re so sure that if you’d declined, or if Charles’ meeting ended on time, or if Joris was single, or if you ordered in meek English instead, you’d still be here, laughing over irrelevant tissue paper conversations, holding Charles’ hand under the table.

“Moi aussi,” you murmur. So sure.

—

God is the best scapegoat.

You first realize this when you’re ten and your favorite necklace snaps in half. You’d been running around, you moved too fast, it stuck on a branch, and became forever unfixable. You’d skipped on the usual nightly prayers as some sort of petulant, rebellious counterattack. You’re fifteen when you’re friendzoned, a first for you. You convince yourself it’s God playing tricks on you. You’re sixteen when you get an F for skipping class too often; you tweet God wtf is happening to me and you giddily watch it get thirteen likes. You’re not alone in this revolt, you think. You’re seventeen and a half when you lose your virginity; it sucks. You’re on top and you learn the art of faking. So you lay on your bed and bemoan Him for the misleading introduction to sex.

It becomes easy to blame God, moreso than usual, when the matter is one of life and death and danger. Being with Charles puts you in this position often. You curse God when something happens during a race that causes your heart to snag in itself and skip a beat or go five times faster. Inversely, it’s dreadfully difficult for you, innately unreligious, to pay thanks to God. Charles knows this, and is always the first to say “thank God” when a race goes well.

You throw around the phrase a few times, but it’s rare. Most, many, all times—it’s “oh, thank fuck” or “I’m so happy you’re safe.” It’s almost like you actively avoid the phrase, so whenever you say it, Charles is momentarily stunned; sometimes it’s after a particularly nasty circuit, or a rainy race day when you physically cannot withstand the stress of watching the love of your life drive fast under such bad conditions.

You have nothing to thank God for.

The hotel room is thin-walled and cold. Just last night you’d been tangled into each other for warmth, but now you’re throwing your suitcase onto the same bed and shoving laundry inside. No folding. No organizing. You make quick, messy work of it to avoid the conversation Charles so desperately tries to coerce out of both of you. The chessboard from last night’s game—5-7—lies abandoned, folded up at the foot of the bed. You ignore it. 

“I’m sorry I left you alone,” he says, lazy almost. He seems to say oh, fine. If you need me to say sorry I’ll say it, here.

“You don’t understand.” You say, cutting phrases short to avoid saying anything you’d rather harbor inside yourself.

“Then enlighten me,” he shoots back. “Please, really. Dis moi tout.” He sounds sarcastic.

“I don’t fit here,” you respond cuttingly. If he chooses to be sarcastic, you think—then be it. You’ll be blunt. You’ll exaggerate. You’ll be impulsive, if for once in your life, you have to be.

“Here, in your life.” You clutch a shirt to your chest. “We don’t make sense. We never did, and you know what? We never will. I honestly don’t know why we keep trying. It’s pointless to believe this could ever work. In between our careers, friends, and schedules, it takes more work for us to see each other for just a day than to push a fucking rock uphill. Ç’est inutile et tu le sais—tout ce travail pour rien.”

Your words sting, join the draft leaving through the crack in the window, turn into dew that stains the vines of the hotel exterior. The ones about to leave his mouth, though, stay put, cement themselves in the grooves of your brain. You’ll think of this exchange years from now, and the words will never blur, sore on your tender heart.

A pregnant silence follows your soliloquy, prompting you to look up and meet his eyes. He says it then. “Pourquoi se disputer pour rien? Let’s just end things.”

“Fine, let’s just end things.” You repeat. Struck, hurt, and angry, you say one last thing, in a valiant attempt to get the last word in. “Thank God.”

The seconds tick by like days, where you look at one another, thinking the same thing. So that’s it? When did it all turn to this? You push past him, bearing your suitcase and messily wiping your face of tears, pretending not to notice the hitch in his voice when he mumbles a quiet goodbye.

Your steps to the elevator tick by like hours, and you take the time to think of how you’d lived much of your relationship thinking that, with how strong your and Charles’ personalities are, a breakup would be messy. Loud. A yelled out fight, tears, thrown curses and hurtful names. You’d always thought, with much conviction, that you would end with a bang.

Many previous fights had gone something like that. There was Thanksgiving, where you ushered him out of your family home to avoid anything escalating into a yelling match. Bang.

There was post-race, where, in the throes of frustration, you two had a heated exchange and you left the paddock in tears. Bang.

There was nothing, however, that couldn’t be solved without a shag and a kiss and an apology. So, reasonably, you expected the final fight to be the loudest. The angriest. This relationship, you were so sure—this would end in a bang. Because you and Charles love the same way: strongly, with so much conviction and noise, and the line between love and spite is more frail than you think. A great big bang, where finally you collided in ways you’d never done before, every frustration, every complaint, thrown back and forth like comets, like war.

But you are wrong. It doesn’t. 

It ends with you softly sighing, arms crossed over your torso to shield yourself from the ache in your chest, tears slipping then falling unstoppingly in the elevator. It ends with a night’s sleep taking up one side of the bed. It ends with Charles deceiving himself into thinking you didn’t just thank the Lord that your relationship has just crumbled to nothing in the bounds of this thin-walled, cold hotel room.

—

“Say something to me,” you say quietly, like you’re afraid to disturb the still morning silence of Paris. “In Italian.”

It’s a corny, cheesy request, no doubt inflamed by the butterflies in your stomach when you think about the night before and one romantic comedy too many. But you ask for it, anyway, your leg bumping his under the too-thin cotton blanket of his hotel. You found yourself here this morning after a night of sweet French alcohol and slurred, flirty conversation.

“Assomigli al resto della mia vita.” He says, smiling.

“Okay. What’s it mean?”

“I won’t translate it for you, because it’s a bit cliché.” He narrows his eyes.

“All of European language is cliché.” You laugh. “Come on, tell me.”

“I will one day,” he says, “I promise. I swear!”

The promise of “one day” is upsettingly romantic. Barely a day after you first met, first bonded, first kissed, first had sex. Okay, fine, you two hadn’t really gone the traditional route of dating, but here he is waxing poetic in Italian, finger tracing your bare arm. “One day,” you say, just so you’re sure.

“Yeah. One day.”

His hand finds yours, and fingers are laced together. Words wrestle themselves out of your throat nervously, a question that might seal the morning. “Should I go?”

The question rests in the air. How do you want your eggs, he wants to ask. Or would you want pancakes or waffles or bacon? Or bread, a croissant with coffee and compote? He wants to know all these things, hear all your answers, watch your eyes twinkle with amusement at the silly questions. So he’ll ask them, he figures. He’ll ask them if you don’t go.

“Stay,” he says. “At least for breakfast.”

—

Pierre leaves after a few more hours. He says Yuki texted him about some Mexican place they need to try. The night next, he is brought up in conversation: “Who were you with last night?”

“A friend,” you explain. “He’s an old friend, Henry.”

Henry Maxwell, the Wall Street guy you’re seeing, who’s inviting you to a charity ball a month into dating. To you, that’s basically a sign to end things, but you allow him to explain his invitation. Babe, don’t you think networking in New York is a gold mine for everything great these days? Don’t you think we need to network if we ever move in together?

“Henry, n—I mean. It’s just going to be another one of those stuffy city galas where everyone tries to out-wealthy one another,” you half-joke. In truth, the reason why you’re so adamant on not going is because this is just about the worst first date idea ever conceived—from experience, you’re sure you’ll have barely any time alone to get to know each other, whisked away to socialize with groups of other people.

“Oh, lighten up,” says Henry, with a sheepish smile. “You’re my plus one on the RSVP, so you can’t complain.”

“Am I?” You ask, chuckling. It’s a bit weird. But he’s excited, and asking, and convincing, so you tug a green silk dress out of your closet and take an Uber to the hotel address. Nevermind the fact that you’ve been here before.

You squeeze Henry’s hand when you walk into the massive ballroom, and not five minutes later you’re facing a crowd of people, drowning in taffeta skirts and wool suits and champagne and snooty small talk. Henry is charming, Henry is kind, Henry is a smooth talker.

He’s the ideal prototype of a guy you should be dating right now. His hand never leaves the small of your back, playing with the satin of your dress, laughing into your neck. You’ve faced several groups of business magnates and supermodels; right now, he’s introducing you to a big journalist for the Post.

She’s in the middle of talking about some hippie retreat to Thailand or somewhere or other when your eyes glide across the room, bored, searching for something to occupy you. To be frank, you really don’t care about ayahuasca.

The hands on the clock seem to halt just for you, just for now, suspending this moment in time like a mosquito in amber. Your eyes meet—and if you’d been less careful or maybe more tipsy, you might have mistaken his gaze for a stranger’s. But your heart demands hurt, demands the memories, demands the sick, sweet nostalgia threading through you like needle to cloth. Your heart demands you to remember, but the demand is so painfully easy to obey because you’ve never forgotten. All at once hate and love arise in you, like great big waves conflicting against one another, until you feel swollen with longing and spite, finding reprieve in the green of his eyes.

Timing, destiny, God. Whatever it is, it’s decided to play some silly joke, because here you are. In the precarious balance of a memory and a figment of your imagination, here you are. In the gap between never and always, here you are. You might appear to be strangers, stranded across opposite ends of this marble ballroom, but to both of you, the idea is almost unfathomable. No, not strangers; you two are anything but.

You are you, and he is Charles, here again in the place where it all ended.

He is never a stranger, and he could never be. He is Charles, your Charles, the beautiful boy who took up years of your life and explored every inch of your heart and mind. He is Charles, who broke your heart, he is Charles, whose heart you broke. But now, he is just Charles Leclerc, racing driver and charity gala attendee, conversing with the same crowds, mingling as he always does. Did. The usage of past tense is a painful pill to swallow.

Charles feels like it’s torture, suffering, a slow punishment, to be rooted to the ground and to do nothing but look. How can he look away now? He is rooted to the tiles, thick vines keeping him here, even if his heart tells him to go, run, now. He is stuck, tacked by the stillness of the memories that play back through his head, the love and the sorrow. You’re still you, hair a little shorter, brows a little darker, but you’re still you. The you he had once, held once, loved and lost once. The you he wishes to have, hold, and love once again.

For a moment, a fleeting, short, moment, he wishes to blink, to nod and to signal for you to meet him outside, on the balcony, so he can straighten his tie and press a polite hand to this person’s shoulder and say excuse me and leave, slip quietly into the night. So maybe you can tug on Henry’s suit jacket and say I’m sorry and join the crowd of gowns and satin and leave, run, go. Because you’re you. And what a sweet lie it would be if he said he wouldn’t do anything for you.

In the end you stay, and you stare, rooted still, time moving the way grass grows. When he smiles, you smile back, and the answers to what if are quietly fabricated in the limits of your imagination.

—

“I miss you. I know it’s—I know this is weird to say, after so long. After not talking for such a long time.”

“No, I understand. I miss you, too.”

“Right… well, how have you been?”

“Same old. You?”

“Yeah, same. How’s everything?”

“It’s… it’s okay. How’s life?”

“Tough, but great.”

“I noticed you were with someone.”

“Yeah, no. That’s—it’s sort of—I don’t see it going anywhere, really. It’s kind of over.”

“Oh? Is it?”

“Listen, I’m… sorry. For—just for everything. I’ve lived the past few years thinking about everything and still hoping I could someday apologize properly. I’m just glad I’ve been given the chance. And I think things ended without… without… I just don’t think we were mature enough. And sometimes now I think—it’s you, it’s still you.”

“Don’t apologize. Can you believe it happened right here?”

“I know. It’s almost crazy—”

“You left a bottle of scent at my place. It’s… it’s still half full. Sometimes I—nevermind. I mean, I think of you a lot. Probably too much for my own good. I think of us, our past, our relationship.”

“So do I.”

“—I love you. I try to stop it, I keep trying but I always end up here. Always here, back here, loving you.”

“If you didn’t see me tonight—would you have felt this way?”

“Oh, I feel… I feel it everyday. I think I’m always going to love you.”

“I’m always going to love you, too.”

[kittyscupcakeandbunny]

SET ME FREE x MIN YOONGI

[MAFIA AU]

PART FOUR

Welcome to my world

Side Characters: Kim Namjoon/detective, Jeon Jungkook/detective, Jung Hoseok/consigliere/mafia member, Park Jimin/rubber/mafia member, Kim Taehyung, Kim Seokjin/FBI.

Warnings: extreme violence and use of curse words, Smut, mentions of blood, death, robbery, killing, guns, torturing, fire, porn (a lot of it), toxic yandere men, crime, violence, possessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships, gore, stalking, sharp objects, illicit drugs, alcohol.

SUMMARY: You made it. Now a police intern as you always promised to your father before he died, you were more than happy to finally be able to help people like he did. But the law was not what you expected to be like. You did not know how lonely it would be for a young woman to grow her career in this kingdom. Having to take care of your 18 year old brother wasn't easy too and things just got a lot worse when you've met Agust D. The king of the mafia Min. He sure knew how to make a life turn into a hell hole.

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF TORTURE AND EXTREME VIOLENCE (at the end of the chapter), READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. It will be signaled with “ +++” once it starts and ends in case you want to skip it.

<< Before

————————————————————————

Bang.

Bang.

The men fall on the ground, hand over his shoulder covering where i shot him.

I put the gun down still holding into it hard, the smell of gunpowder in the air around me I couldn’t move a single feet away from it as I watched the men on the ground, he was one of Namjoon colleagues I remember seeing his face a couple of times on his office the men probably knew who I was soon he’ll tell Namjoon about my betrayal and soon everyone at the stink will know what I did. The surprise to see me there on his face when I shot him was still there, between painful groans as he kneeled down he couldn’t believe his eyes and neither could I believe. I was tired of running away from everything, I’ll clean my name once I get Yoongi behind the bars for now I don’t mind letting the flames burn me. I know who I am.

The cold air felt painful in my lounges as I took deep breathes, still not believing what I did. He wasn’t the one I should be shooting but right now it was between me and Yoongi and if I have to get my hands dirty to save my family I will, I’ll never back down from it anymore. This is the person I’ll have to be I survive so I’ll embrace. I’ll dance with the devil if I must, I’ll let him play the song he wants and when the right time comes I’ll put him down to his knees.

I could see the reaction on his eyes as he stood there in front of me the smirk on his lips falling as his eyes looked into mine. I could guess he thought Jack was the one behind the shooting it was clear on his face how unexpected my actions were to him. We both stood there not believing what I did but, here we are now. The devil smiles to me.

He walked to me eyes not leaving mine, i only realized my hands were shaking when his own held them to take the gun out of me. I don’t dare to say a word and neither does he, the sound of the fire burning a head of us being the only thing we could hear I watched it as it was the only source of light between us and the men I shot. My mind was blank completely empty I couldn’t think of an escape to this for now, what can I even do for now to fix this? What will Yoongi do to me now, was all I thought about as I stared back into his eyes he looked behind me and nodded to Jack a look I couldn’t decipher, a language of their own. Not saying a word he took my arm in his hand and turning me to leave but I stop in my tracks instantly swallowing hard as he looked down at me still holding my arm, we are just gonna leave the men like that he already knows me anyways why would Yoongi take me with him now? I was still in shock at my own actions, crossed so many lines already what could he possibly still want from me now? Mouth opening but closing words nowhere to be found, completely lost in his eyes that burned over my own the flames behind me reflecting on his orbs as if I was staring inside hell itself, the devil only smiled to me. The hand around my arm closed over my waist now holding me against him he took me back to the car, I saw Jack making his way around the black car already getting back inside.

Yoongi opened the door letting me get in first as he sat beside me, I stared back at the men on the ground as Jack stared the car marking a turn to leave. Yoongis presence beside was the only thing keeping me from looking behind, the silence inside the car was so loud I could barely breath the calmness in the air after Jack began to drive the car out of there was making my skin burn, looking over the window as the view changed from a construction site to more and more nature the moon shined bright over us no clouds present in the sky the summer heat was still rising even at night time.

Red lights shining for far away we drove past a few police cars going where we left. Heart immediately beating faster as I looked behind at them, Namjoon must be in one of them he must know by now that his plan have failed and soon we’ll find out why his plan he worked on for so long didn’t work out. I looked down at my hands on my lap, what has my life turned into at this point I didn’t know. I just knew I wasn’t myself anymore, I could feel it deep inside me like the flick of a switch had turned on my head.

In my thoughts two words seemed to repeat like a song, keep going. When I drove here with them I keep saying it, when Jack first threatened me I say it, when I went to downtown for the first time I say it. Now it only seemed like a curse, for how long do I have to keep up with this? I almost killed someone tonight. When will it be enough?

Regret was a small words but it held so much weight over me now, if only I had stopped this stupid investigation when Yoongi warned me about but I was greedy something about him kept alluring me towards him like a damn magnet. He was a criminal I must take him down that’s why I fallowed him, that’s why I went to hell to get him, I told myself that everyday but the days went by where I kept thinking that and the further away from my own lies I went. For my brother I would shot someone, I thought that I would for sure. I looked beside me Yoongi seemed focused on the road a head of him, the thought of him getting hurt in front of me sensed chills down my spine as much as I didn’t wanted, as much as I forced myself into it I couldn’t stop this feeling from creeping out of me anymore.

What in the fuck am I doing right now?

I turned back to my window seeing the big extravagant gates the car stopped before they opened completely for it to enter I notice my motorbike was still parked there were I left, I thought at this point Jack would come out and opened the door for me to leave and let me make my own way from here but the car didn’t stop for me to leave and he only drove further inside the building behind the gates.

He drove slowly towards a large, luxurious mansion stopping in front of the parking area of it. There were security guards at every corner of the mansion heavily armed. If it wasn’t today I would be impressed by it but tonight wasn’t one I would look at it proud, I don’t think I ever will. Beside me Yoongi opened the door to leave taking my wrist in his hand as he did so, I looked back at the car seeing Jack didn’t move at all. So he wasn’t coming.

Fallowing Yoongi towards the entrance of the mansion I heard Jack drive off, heart racing at the thought of going inside alone. I knew he wasn’t the best to be around but something about being just me with Yoongi tonight felt different, my mind was racing with thoughts I couldn’t help but go over every possibility or any scenario that was going to happened. Was he going to kill me? Lock me up in his basement? Would he use me to hide his tracks? As much as I thought it didn’t make any sense for him to dirty his own hands with me and not let Jack end the job, what else could I expect from him? He wouldn’t save me this time. I fuck up for every one by shooting that detective.

The doors where opened by his security men, he never let go of my wrist as we entered the extravagant and luxurious mansion. The place was spectacular every detail spilled the most high quality classy design and materials I’ve ever seen, stone statues guarded the entrance on the outside and inside the floor was a shiny black marble with golden details, the entrance was large and had two extensive stairs on each sides of the wall that connected to the second floor, in the middle was a statuette of a woman cover in red roses as water fall on her body down a small fountain underneath it the large windows were covered by a deep dark purple curtain.

As we walked up the stair many times i wanted to ask him, but my mouth didn’t move I couldn’t find my voice. Mind still running the engines but no action, deep down I was afraid to just be right. He took me to a corridor then turned to an opened meeting room, I heard water falling as we entered the specious room and my eyes turned to see a an entire glass wall with water falling on it completely amazed by it, I felt him let go of my wrist making his way to the bar on the left side of the room not knowing what to do I only stood there as he filled two cups with what I could guess was whiskey.

Something felt different as soon as we stepped inside this room, it felt odd how he looked so calm the entire time moving around like nothing happened. Sure to someone like him this was just like any other Tuesday, he must’ve seen and done much worst things in this life time for a shotgun to impress him. The fact that he looked so intense but calm was driving me insane, I could tell he had something under his finger something to use against me but didn’t know what. He turned towards me handing me the second cup with alcohol, the scent was strong as soon as I brought it up to my face I felt my insides burning. Not looking up to him only the dark marble floor under me as I gulped down the bitter liquid, I could feel his eyes burning over my figure as he just stood there not saying anything.

Not knowing what else to do, I gulped down all the content in my cup. The strong taste of alcohol making me regret it immediately, as I force myself to swallow it noticing my reaction seemed to amaze Yoongi as he smirked at me drink the thing as if it was just water and not gasoline. Surely he didn’t brought me here for a drink, not after what happened tonight. It looked like he was supposed to meet someone else there but, Namjoon got that guy before and played a trap to get him.

- why… did you brought me here, I’m sure it wasn’t for a simple chitchat? - i asked him, not looking at him but at the now empty cup in my hands my thumbs sliding over the glass my throat still burned from the bitter taste.

- Humm… I thought you knew that already - he said, even his voice sounded much deeper this time - that’s why you’re here, or should I have left you there?

He took one step closer, I could see his black shiny shoes as I still didn’t dare to look up at him. I couldn’t face him not knowing what he was thinking, what he wanted from me.

- I thought Scarlet told you after you handed me so nicely her card - he said amusement dripping from every word he said.

The mention of the card brought the memories from the night I first went to Paradise, Scarlet must be the red head woman I meet that night who lended me the poker red queen card from Paradise but just what did that had to do with me? Not long after that night he came back to the station sliding the king of spades on my pocket. Since then I couldn’t ask him directly what it meant.

- well she didn’t, so what does it means? - I looked up as I asked him regretting it immediately as he looked me up and down - do explain… Agust D.

I pressed the last sentence, the name rolled down so naturally out of my lips it fitted him perfectly. That’s who he was after all. He only chuckled drinking the rest of the brown liquid on his cup putting it down over the coffee table on the center of the room making his way towards me he closed completely the distance between us. In a second his hands were closed around my neck as he pushed my body against him, I gasped letting the cup fall from my hands as it then shatter against the floor.

- who am I? - he growled against my lips, his eyes burning over mine.

- You’re… Agust d - I stated breathless, feeling heavy and completely out of breath he chuckled and I felt the on his breath whiskey hitting my face.

My entire body burned as he left my neck to grab my jaw his own body completely glued to mine as he pushed me against the wall, holding me to look at him bodies burning over each other’s, my mind was fuzzy all I could hear was the beating of my heart on my chest as I held my breath feeling a sharp cold tip of what i could only guess was a knife against my ribs. Body going alert now, eyes looked on his burning ones I couldn’t say a single word complete petrified under him. I knew he wouldn’t bring me here for a drink, I did all he enacted me to do now what else could he need from me? I was just another pawn under him.

I shouldn’t have said his name, I should have lay low and ignore that or at least lie about it until I could leave. He kept his identity a mystery all this time, now that I know him he’ll kill me to protect himself.

This could be my chance to escape, I could fight him if only my body didn’t felt so heavy and my mind so fuzzy. All I could feel was his heavy breathing against my face and the strong scent of alcohol mixed with his intense woody cologne I knew very well from the moment I saw him at my station, the more I looked into his eyes the more my body seemed to give in.

This isn’t me. Something must be wrong with me. I would never let him corner me like this not after just one cup of whiskey at least, unless he did brought me here for drink just to take me out quietly.

- what did you put in my cup?! - I spat, accusing him. He just chuckled chest moving up and down as he took one deep breath before holding my chin tighter.

- why? Feeling a bit overwhelmed? - he murmured over my lips, my heart racing completely losing my breath as I swallowed hard.

- you did - I stated helplessly, eyes felling heavier.

- you think I would need that? - he smirked.

I felt the cold point of the knife move up on my side then down on my hip he teased the sharp knife against me, hand pushing my hair away from my face leaving my neck visible to him as he held the knife against it. I gasped feeling it burn over my skin looking away from him, hearing the deep chuckle coming from his chest.

- this…. - he murmured over my ear, leaving my chin to put his hand over the wall beside my face his hot breath over my skin sending chills down my hot body - is all you.

I turned back to look at him, he had a knowing smirk on his lips. He couldn’t be serious here no way in hell I’d be this work up over him he must’ve done something I’m sure this isn’t natural at all, how could I feel this way when he’s clearly threatening my life right now? This burning feeling running over my skin can’t be just an attraction, I refuse to believe it even now with my eyes unconsciously focusing over his lips heat flowing all over my body as I felt him push my body against the wall, his body completely covering mine.

- you’re lying… - i breathlessly said, nervous and turned on at the same time - why I’m here? You said you don’t hurt woman.

He only chuckled, his breath dancing against my skin as well as the knife he held against me. He purposely pressed his thigh between my legs separating them as the sharp tip of the knife slides down my neck between my chest stoping at my belly. He held my chin forcing me to look at him, something burned in his eyes.

- why? - he whispered against my lips - because, you’re mine now.

His lips brushing over my neck, the sharp knife dancing over my body side to side over my belly completely taking my breath away from my lunges.

- and you didn’t even know what you were getting into - he laughed, chest vibrating as he chuckled - yet you brought the card to the owner of her, didn’t you know? That’s how you become a pet at Paradise?

What?

I’m sure I asked him. My mind felt so over the clouds I could barely tell if I did say it or not right now, I was completely lost on him to understand anything about what he was saying. I couldn’t say anything else, mind completely collapsing once he cuts open my shirt hand holding my chin up kissing me so harshly and deliciously my body was giving in instantly, I couldn’t hold myself anymore moaning against his lips feeling him bite into my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood out of it. He groans sticking the knife into the wall right beside my head, any time that would scare me to death but now it only makes me grab into him harder feeling his hands sliding down my back slowly with his short nails carving my skin through my shirt stopping at my butt, he gabs me hard before sliding them to my thighs holding me up against the wall.

Separating our lips only to growl over my ear.

- I’ll fuck you till you can’t walk tonight - he said against my neck - don’t you dare tell me to stop.

Shit.

His lips moved from my ear to my neck, leaving harsh bites painfully marking my skin then soothing it with wet kisses over it down to my chest. I closed my arms around his neck holding him closer sliding my hands over his shoulders to grab a hold of his hair, feeling the vibration of his moan against my lips locking into a deep kiss tongue dancing against mine sending waves of pleasure through my whole body as he kept running his hands over my back now sliding them under my shirt he tore opened, i cling over him as he held me up instantly pushing us away from the wall walking around the room never once did his lips left mine even when I felt him lower me down against the soft fabric of the black sofa.

Still over me he stops, forehead against mine as he moves his fingers from my hips stopping at my bellybutton then sliding down to open my jeans taking them off of me ever so slowly, sharp eyes locked over mine the entire time our unsteady breathes intertwining. All i could do was watch him move above me completely hypnotized by his every move.

He sits on his knees in front of me, eyes running over my entire body as he pushes his hair back. Tounge running over his bottom lip, he takes of his black blazer throwing it on the floor, then his tie slowly button it down his white shirt.

- look at you… - he murmured, opening the last bottom. - all hungry for me…

He leaned himself over me again, hand cupping my check as his thumb slides over my botttom lip. I can only stare amazed into his brown orbs, body shivering from desire craving his touch so bad it hurts completely burning every cell on my skin. Not wasting any time as his lips capture mine between his own lips, hands dancing over each others body scratching and gripping harder each second as we bth completely lose ourselves on the burning desire that grows hotter between our bodies

Gripping into his hair as he lowers his body fully against mine, i shiver at the feeling of his skin burning against mine mind losing any last bit of sanity i had left. He slides on arm underneath my waist pulling me closer making me arch my back up, another hand holding the nape of my neck tightly as he slowly grinds his hips against mine. A moan into his wet lips feeling how hard he is over me, completely out of breath already as he holds me tighter every time he moves against me chasing his own pleasure.

His lips leaving mine to plant kisses over my chest as he ruts into me, his voice vibrates through my skin as he groans against me completely drunk in his pleasure. Teeth sinking into my skin as he held into me harder, my whole body burns in the ecstatic feeling of his hands sliding over my skin as he made a path with his lips from my chest to my neck leaving a long lick there before he grabs my hips up against his crotch terribly slowly. Pressing his hard cock over my sweet spot as he leaned back, hands still glued to my hips i watched as he sat between my legs bitting into his own bottom lip eyes closed as he enjoyed hi own pleasure with the most pleasant expression ever as if he could ecstasy from the feeling at any moment. He looked like a sex god above me, how his muscles stiffen every time he grinned on me harsh breathes leaving his lips each time.

I could feel the wetness between my leg sliding down my ass already, feeling needier the more the teased above me completely drunk own the pleasure. I watched as he slowly began to undo the bottom of his pants sliding so fucking slowly the zipper down, eyes locked with mine as a smirk formed on his lips. I could bearly held myself from complete collapsing into his madness the more i waited for him, sitting up i grabbed him by his pants pulling his lips back to mine as he groaned on my mouth holding the waist line of his pants i began to punch them down until they stop at his knees. Bitting into my bottom lip he stops the kiss eyes burning over mine as i take the chance to feel his skin sliding my hands up from his knees till his hips, swallowing his breaths against my lips feeling beyond into him.

Lips brushing into mine as he held my neck pushing me back against the sofa hovering above me using his knees to spread me opened for him, he slides his left hand down between us and i feel like gasoline being set on fire as he slowly slides his head between my lower lips over my clit a moan escaping my lips at the delicious stimulation, his own eyes closing as breathy moans leave his lips. Bucking my hips up against his as a wave of pleasure hit me right through, with a groan he completely slides his dick inside me.

Feeling overwhelmed by the delicious feel of him filling me up so fucking good I immediately close my arms around his neck, with one hand he supports himself up above me as the other one keeps me still by the neck. Eyes burning into mine one last time before he takes my lips harshly between his, that scar never looked so good on him before then it does now with pleasure filling every little bit of his brain. Seat beginning to drip from his forehead over mine, my moans being entirely swallowed by his hungry mouth as he began to move his hips against mine slowly but hard.

Feeling myself pulse around him as the waves of pleasurable stimulation fills every cell on my body, lips leaving his to beg for more against his mouth louder each time as the pleasure becomes almost beyond control turning ourselves into two animals starved for each others touch.

More. I moaned against him. More.

Fingers gripping at the nape of his neck, grabbing his hair feeling almost desperate for his touch even the smallest amount was enough to send me into over drive, the wet sounds between our legs getting louder as he starts moving faster. Sweat covering our bodies like second skin, holding tighter each other as the pleasure becomes more and more intense. His hands brushing deliciously against my sides, stretching every inch of skin with his short nails to stop at my hips were he grabbed harshly my own hands holding into him just as hard as i felt my own orgasm, slowly creeping up between our bodies.

More.

I begged and he gave me all i wanted. Until i feel the overwhelming sensation of pleasure fills every muscle of my body completely going into ecstasy as his movements slowly stops, feeling all my wetness drip down my legs.

I went so high i bearly could make any word he speak afterwards, feeling even more aroused at the sound of his raspy deep voice above me send me into another dimension.

- turn around and get on your knees, I didn’t come yet.

Shit.

He did told me he wouldn’t stop.

I tried my best to move between the highs of pleasure still dancing over my sweaty body, slowly turning around on the sofa as i got on all fours in front of him. I felt so high on pleasure, completely drunk on it i could bearly made out when he grabbed my hips holding myself up into a sitting position, back glued against his naked chest i gasped at the feeling shivers sliding down into an electric wave of stimulation.

His heavy breathes hitting the back of my neck as he teasingly begins to brush his finger over my sides, leaving wet kisses on my shoulder as his short nails left marks above my ribs down to my waist stoping at my hips as he pulls me more into him opening my legs more. I could hear him pumping himself against me as low moans left his lips over my skin, one hand sliding up over my body grabbing my chest a moan leaving my own lips as he the pleasure of his touches kept sending hot waves of ecstasy between my legs. Wetness sliding down my parted legs soon being filled again by his hard cock, a groan immediately leaving my lips as my body shoot up in pleasure being held back down agains Yoongi once i ease down his length feeling his hands wrap around my body as he begins to pound into me again, lips immediately searching for my neck.

The overwhelming pleasure filling my cunt making whimpers and moans vibrate through my throat, as the warmth swells over my entire body again. Grinding down against him at an increased speed, feeling he hit deep within my soaking walls grabbing into his thighs behind me carving my nails on his skin as he peak the pace even more pounding harder and faster into me, desperate moans filling the room intertwined with his deep groans. The sensation of his fingers moving slowly up and down over my clit only adds to the pleasure of the increased speed, his groans getting louder the harder he pounded into me aggressively moving his hips against me causing me to lean even more over his chest from the sensation becoming far too overwhelmed.

The heat builds in between my tights immediately tensing around him, nails digging harder into his skin.

- tel me how good it feels - He groaned over my ear, a deep chuckle coming from his lips.

I feel my head up in the clouds, bearly able to make a single sentence head spinning in confusion as he kept moving his fingers between my slick cunt.

- say it.

Body completely giving into his becoming to weak from his pleasure, feeling another chuckle vibrating through his chest against my back. His hands sliding over my body to grab my chest as he continued o pound into my wet walls, feeling them tense more and more around him. The burning feeling growing desperately each second spreading all over my body once again, i held into his hands over my chest for support as i felt another orgasm building up between my legs.

- Yoongi… - his name slips deliciously from my lips - so good, so good…

I can’t bearly recognize my own voice full of desperation and pleasure, fallowed by moans and whimpers of his name. Holding tightly into him as the pleasure builds up hotter and hotter from his length buried between my thighs deep inside me, finally letting myself go feeling the intense warmth fills my entire body again reaching another high almost falling into the sofa but being held by Yoongis arms immediately, he lazily chuckles behind me over my tired body.

Body steal pulsing with pleasure as i let him hold into me thrusting sloppily into me as he rides his own orgasm, feeling his wetness filling me up completely till he drips between our legs increasing deliciously my own pleasure.

By the time he pulls away, my whole body is trembling. Feeling him carefully lay me down against the soft sofa, my breathing slowly beginning to slower down still too high up in the clouds to move away. Knees feeling sore underneath slowly resting.

An intense feeling of tiredness filling my trembling body, the last thing i felt was the ghost of Yoongis lips over my back as he traced my spine carefully up and down until a fall deeply into a slumber.

[…]

The bright light hitting my face as I became more and more conscious slowly waking up from my sleep, head feeling heavy from sleeping in a bad position I groaned feeling a sharp pain shot behind my neck, time should be the last thing I worry about at least for now but I can’t help thinking about it as I lift my upper body up stretching myself up. I massage my neck trying to release some of the pain, still a bit out of it from just waking up I try my best to fix my messy hair the white cover sliding down a bit as i continued to move, a cold feeling hitting my naked body under the sheets I hold the cover back up to cover my chest looking around the room I was in not remembering when I came here. Taking in the details I couldn’t the night before the walls where a dark gray, no decoration, no photos hanging on them minimalistic to is finest. He didn’t seem like the type of guy who would have candles and a fluffy carpet to decorate his room, obviously. A sight left my lips as I lay back over the soft mattress of the king sized bed, the room was spotless though everything was so clean as if he had just bought it, the though that maybe he bearly spend anytime in this house passed through my mind. Men are all the same, they buy large houses just to fill more their egos in the end their hearts are the ones left empty.

With a sight I lay down again feeling something hard under my head my body instantly becoming stiff at the thought of him, I turned to the side only to be meet with his face right next to mine. He had a hard expression over his features even while sleeping although the light shining from window made his features look soft almost like a completely different person. The scar on his face shined under the sunlight, it had healed a lot more since the first time I saw him. It wasn’t fresh as I could tell but he certainly got it not long ago. He looked so beautiful right now stealing my breath away at the sight of his calm face so close to mine, his milky white skin so soft under mine. How could he look so calm and peaceful right now, people like him always amazed me. Criminals like him.

The memories from last night swimming back to my mind like a brick, I didn’t know what to feel in this circle of fire after all the things I’ve done deep down I knew the damage was already done, i kept thinking that every time almost like a silly cry for mercy. I could try to make things better and say I was only being threatened by the Agust d but, at the same time it would be a lie it would only mean I’m just like one of them. Lying and manipulating people so I can escape the horrible things I’ve done. I can’t go back to who I used to be. I can’t be the girl Namjoon wants me to be, I know that. I don’t want to go back and right now I couldn’t feel a single drop of remorse or guilty.

Am I becoming one of them?

The only things that comes to my mind is that I just know, I want to go to him.

Mindlessly I gave into the temptation to touch his skin, he was so close to me now I needed to feel his skin again. After last night I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget what we did, the need to touch him was bigger then any self control I had in my body Yoongi was like a drug. Once you have a taste you can’t stop yourself and want more. Slowly moving my hand towards his face I softly traced his check down to his jaw. He didn’t move a bit, seemed to be still deep in his sleep. I could still taste him on my lips, just the thought of his hands over my skin were enough to send me into a mess. What was about him that felt so deeply addictive?

I carefully traced up over his check but before I could get any closer to his scar my wrist was quickly held away from his face.

He opened his eyes slowly, staring into mine sharply. I gulped down nervously.

- don’t - was all he said, in a low deep voice.

I slowly moved my head up and down signaling “ok” shivers running down my spine as his sharp eyes kept looking at me, hard expression over his soft features. Same eyes that burned over mine last night, It was so hard to maintain eye contact with him I could never guess what was going through his head. Did I upset him? I couldn’t tell, not when his eyes were a pool of honey and coffee shining so beautifully under the sunlight to stare deep into mine.

- you’re awake - I whispered, feeling completely out of breath.

- the whole time - he said, I bite down on my bottom lip deciding to look at his hand that still held my wrist away from his face. Warmth burning at my cheeks.

I was surprised he even slept here after last night, I couldn’t remember how we got up here the last thing I remember was falling asleep after he sanded me into an overdrive of pleasure. Now that I was back to my self the thought brought a nervous feeling to my insides, I liked being in his presence but I hated how much I liked that. Especially knowing he wasn’t the type of men to care enough about woman after he sleeps with them. I shouldn’t have let this happened, now this was just another card he could use against me in the future. I must keep myself strong in order to survive here this wasn’t the world I was used to after all, it was his world.

I tried to take my wrist from his grip but he didn’t let go, making my eyes run back to his nervously. He pressed my arm over my head lifting himself up to rover over my body completely, his skin burning against mine just like last night as he lays his body over mine. The feeling of his naked body against mine sending a shiver down my spine making me arche in desire instantly, the little movement of my hips bringing a knowing feeling of discomfort enough to make me knowledge how my body was still recovering from last night but still in desperate need of touch again.

He held both my wrists above my head, lips falling over my neck kissing and biting over the marks he left last night.

- you regret it - it wasn’t a question he murmured against my skin almost like a cat purring, I gulped down the feeling of warmth that rise up my body at the sound of his low voice, releasing his face from my neck to stare at my face his eyes scanned the marks he left on my skin with a smirk on his face.

- no - I whispered back, feeling how dry my throat was.

- lies…. I know that look on your face - he said, a smirk on his lips and now this wasn’t Yoongi anymore - want me to remind you how much you liked last night?

I gulped down not being able to say anything, this was Agust D now.

I couldn’t say anything, my mind would say something and in a second my body would betray me for his touch completely under the addicting need of his touch.

In a movement he sat down between my legs pushing his long hair back as the bed covers falling completely from our bodies exposing our naked selves to each others gaze. My eyes scanned every detail of his chest I couldn’t last night, we were so starved for each other i bearly had any chance to simply appreciate his presence. My heavens, he was so beautiful. This isn’t good for my self control.

How his milky skin shined under the dim sunlight that graced us through the slightly open curtains, enhanced every detail over his body, every vain in his arms and hips. I felt completely tipsy over him, just the sight of him was enough to turn me into a mess so thirsty for his taste.

- I guess we could… - he traced my knee slowly down to my hip bringing me closer, stealing a gasp from me at his harsh movement - I don’t mind reminding you again.

His eyes seemed to be capturing every part of me all spreed for him, heat burning over my cheeks. He lower himself down in a second my own hands coming in touch with his chest at instinct, the feeling of his soft and cold skin over my hands making me melt in want under his kiss stoping a few seconds after. A smirk danced over his lips as he looked down at my hands over his chest, the only thing stopping him from completely falling over me.

- I should tie you up next time - he said, I couldn’t hold the surprise at his words not being able to make out any sane thought afterwards.

He chuckled at my reaction grabbing my thigh over his hip fixing himself between my legs, his touch making my entire body heat up with desire electricity flooding through my veins every time his fingers brushed over my skin making me anticipate every moment he goes further. With his fingertips ghosting over my hip, it’s only a second before he dips his hand between my parting thighs. I gasp a the touch feeling my insides clench around nothing, making him chuckle above me my hands sliding up from his chest to his shoulders grabbing the skin. Goosebumps running over my skin from head to toe as he keeps a slow rhythm running his finger up and down teasing my clit, waves of pleasure instantly spread across my body making me bite my lip. Not being able to keep my eyes opened as the pleasure completely melted over me at the feeling of his fingers circling over my clit caressing so damn slowly.

The tension begins to build so deliciously all control I had was completely lost now, replaced with an intense desire to have him inside me. Every touch is electric, pleasure filling every inch of my body until my legs start shaking. Digging my nails into his skin as the waves of a bliss roll through my body.

- do you still regret it? - he mumbles over my ear.

I bite into my lower lip to keep a moan down as he slips inside me one finger, holding tighter over his shoulders as he uses his thumb to move over my clit while still moving inside me. He chuckles at my reaction with his other hand holding my chin up making me look at him, lips brushing over mine his eyes burning with desire.

He stops his movements bringing his fingers back up over my lips caressing my bottom lip with his thumb covered on my arousal, his breathing is faster eyes looking heavier now he kept biting and licking over his lower lips. I didn’t took another second and sucked on his thumb, tasting myself on him he groaned deep and needy pleasure displayed over every corner of his face in a second he replaces his thumb with his tongue inside my mouth, I moan against him rolling my hips up on his feeling how hard he already is over me. Stoping only to adjust himself between my thighs, the feeling of his hard cock slowly sliding inside me sending waves of pleasure all over me making me arch my back. Starting out slow as he groans over my ear I grab into him tightly closing my arms around his shoulder as he continues to move back and forth, kissing beneath his ear earning a grip over my hips as he moves deeper inside me making me burn with desire his hips buck into me a growl emitting from his chest and I moan out his name feeling my insides clench around his cock.

I can’t help but whimper against his neck holding him tighter, thighs pressing around his waist his lips finding mine again as he begins to quicken his peace. Hand slipping between my thighs again to press his fingers against my clit, body needing release the more he teases it. He thrusts deeper caressing circles over my clit making me moan out loud. Grabbing his hair in fist a hungrily taste his tongue against mine, he can only groan hips quickening in pace as he pumps harder into me feeling breathless as time goes by, pleasure consuming every inch of my body. Another growl builds in his chest growing desperate he begins to move faster, feeling his cock hit deeper within my walls he bites into my bottom lip the familiar sting rising all over my body the warmth swell until it washes all over my body, legs trembling in high pleasure until it becomes so overwhelming I feel it dripping down my slit.

He groans separating our lips as he rides out his own he pulls away keeping himself up with his arm above my head, unsteady breathes escaping his mouth over mine as he pulls his cock from within my dipping walls pumping his length with a tight grip it takes only a few second before the drops of his release fall over my belly, he comes undone over me before the last drop of his release hits my flesh he falls against my body.

None of us moves still catching our breaths as we get down from our high and slowly we come right back. He pulls himself up again a knowing smirk over his lips as he bite into the lower lip staring down at me.

- any regrets? - he asked, I only moved my head side to side indicating a “no” not looking into his eyes as I only stared down at his neck watching his chest move up and down while he chuckled.

He leaned down again pressing a kiss over my lips before getting up, I stared at his naked back seeing the long marks of my nails on his back as he entered the bathroom. He came back no long after wearing a red silky robe and pants.

- I have work to get done - he said, standing in front of the bed - make yourself at home, you can use anything you need here.

- okay… - I murmured looking up at him, he kneeled down over the bed making a sing with his finger for me to get up towards him.

I slowly made my way back to him, holding the shits to cover me as tight as possible. Once I was close enough he grabbed me by the neck pressing his lips over mine, feeling his tongue slip inside my mouth without permission I groaned against him he stops the kiss with a bite over my lower lip. Giving me one last look he turned around to leave the room.

Oh god.

It took a lot more effort than I thought it would to get up from his bed, covering myself on his sheets a make my way to the bathroom on his room. The bathroom it self was almost as big as the bedroom but, different then the rest of the house it was brighter in colors once completely inside im meet with a big square bathtub, a shower beside it separated and on my right a large sink with a mirror that went up to the ceiling. I made my way towards it looking the mess I was n the mirror. If I didn’t knew any better I’d thought I got in a fight last night upon seeing myself in the mirror.

From my jaw down my neckI completely covered in marks, his love bites were something else. Letting the sheet fall to my feet I found out my neck wasn’t the only part of me he marked, my hips had scratching marks as well as my back and belly following up to my chest.

Memories of his touch and roughness filling my mind, how things escalated so fast last night. I couldn’t let a simple night of pleasure - and morning - erase how much distress he has put me this past week. Threatening me and making me do his dirty work just to make things more difficult for me to get him. I quickly brushed off, now it wasn’t the time for this and I need that shower more then ever. To relax my body and clear my mind.

As much as the bathtub seemed so inviting I make my way towards the shower, I just needed to cool things out right now my mind was still clouded filled with not so pure thoughts I had to make out what steps to take from now, letting the warm water fall over my tired body immediately relaxing all the muscles a sight of relief leaving my lips at the warm feeling take over my entire body. For now I would have to sort things with Yoongi as soon as possible we’ve been playing this game for too long and things need to be fixed now there’s no time to play when you’re in a world like this I can’t just let him throw me from side to side with no clear direction, reaching out to grab the shampoo I found out there was none only a lavender scented soap. A sight left my lips as a improvised tying my hair with itself. No washing hair today then.

Feeling much calmer now that I was clean I don’t take much time there though I knew I would be there for hours if I let myself wonder too much in my thoughts. Once I’m done, I dry myself out covering my body with the towel making my way back to the room realizing only my shirt was here on the floor, the rest of my clothes were probably still on the meeting room. The thought immediately brought a blush to my face. I can’t just go there wearing only a towel to cover my body, what if someone sees me?

That thought definitely wasn’t pleasant. I swallowed the bitter taste, the closet was beside the bathroom the door half opened I quickly make my way there the lights turned on by itself making it clear every piece of clothing inside it perfectly organized and hanged all separated by colors. Not that it was much colorful though, mostly being black and white and a very few gray button shirts and blue. Taking a closer look at the clothes feeling the fabrics as i slide my fingers over one it felt and looked so expensive, how neat and perfectly organized they were, how good they all smelled. This wasn’t just any smell, It transmitted luxury in every detail.

If I take any piece of clothing here Yoongi might actually cut my head off - I thought for a second but quicklyI brushed it away, making my way towards the drawers, there’s must be something here I could borrow for now that would get me kill, right?

The first one I opened immediately got me shocked, it was filled with rings and watches of all types shining with gold and diamonds all organized side by side. I closed that one as fast as I opened, turned to the next one it had some more shirtsI kept looking carefully through them till I finally found were his pajama pants were. I had to hold myself from having a little happy dance, I was begging to feel so nervous there. All of those expensive clothes, if I messed up yoongi would kill me.

But he wouldn’t mind if a borrow one of his pajama pants, would he? Out of everything there those were the only ones that seemed least shocking expensive. Once I got what I needed I quickly left that closet, dressing myself on the bedroom.

I took one final glance at myself on the mirror wall beside the bed, it didn’t look much different than what I would usually look on weekends. The pants were baggy on me even though they felt a bit tighter over the hips, definitely not meant for a woman with hips like mine but still comfortable. I fixed my hair the best i could leaving it fall messily fall over my shoulders.

I didn’t know what to do now, should I just leave the house? I know better then to do anything that could risk my life, it wasn’t just some normal persons place but a mafia man no other then Agust d. I would first have to talk with Yoongi, something’s needed to be discussed.

Making my way out of the room I immediately regret it not asking him were he would go, how am I supposed to find him in this enormous house? I didn’t have time to even check we’re we where going last night since we were obviously busy, things felt so confusing out of a sudden. What am I even doing here? Yoongi had some explanation to do over all that belonging thing with the Paradise poker card, just what in the world those people are doing with that?

He didn’t look like that type of men. He wasn’t that type of men. So what does he really want from me?

Not only that thought is driving me completely insane but, what in the world was I thinking? A sense of regret was bound to cross my mind, all the choices I made were only to save my brother. Even so the heavy weight over my chest wasn’t leaving me, would my brother finally be safe now that they have me? The only thing I knew was I had to make sure of it. How could I trust them so easily to the point were I completely forgot who I was, all my choices were meant to save someone yet I could still damage his life just as bad. If word goes out not only will my brothers life be in danger but, Namjoon.

I laid in the bed of his enemy, he would never forgive me for it if he finds out. Not only that but I’m sure the station would turn against me. They probably already know I’m with Yoongi, I can’t go back to the life I used to have. All the choices I made took me to rock bottom. And I can’t blame anyone else for it but myself.

How foolish of me. I didn’t deserve any forgiveness. I must carry on this path, wherever it takes me I must make sure I survive this war I stared with myself.

I don’t know when I found myself in front the meeting room Yoongi took me last night, I’ve been walking in this long corridor for a while now. It looked even more beautiful in the day light, now I could see the how the light form outside shined over the water falling over the window the small table with all sorts of drinks over on the right a for seat sofa in front of the wall were some of his and mine clothes were displayed and a tea table in the middle were empty cups lay there with a bottle of whiskey almost empty out the sing we must have had more drinks last night before we go to his bedroom, nothing else in the room but that. The sound of water falling was calming, the traces of last night were in every corner of the room immediately bringing a hot blush to my cheeks as I stared at our clothes laying everywhere, the possibility of someone might heaving seen it made me instantly rush to get them. I quickly took one by one in my hands, the house was so quiet except for the sound of water falling from further away though I could swear I heard voices one of them was clearly Yoongi. I couldn’t go back to the room and put the clothes there, I was sure I would get lost again so I just hide them under the sofa as fast as I could and quietly made my way to back at corridor again.

Fallowing the sound of their voices the best I could I stopped in front of a double door on the left of the long corridor, they seemed to be coming from there, standing beside it I kept my focused on their conversation.

- why did you have to bring her!? - it was Jack who said, I recognized and he didn’t sounded so happy - she’s one of them!

I was the only she I knew was brought here so this was definitely a conversation about me, no wonder Jack isn’t doesn’t sound so happy.

- I’m well aware of that Hoseok, what do you want from me? - it was Yoongi, he sounded calm like Jacks outbursts were nothing.

So that must be Jacks real name, everyone here seemed to have code names so the police don’t track them down.

- she’s been behaving only because we kept her on a leash with that brother of hers… - Jack stated, I could hear the anger building up on his voice again as he speaks - I can’t believe you would do such stupid thing just for a pussy D!

- Are you accusing my ability to make decisions because of a woman? - Yoongis voice was calm but stern at the same time at his words they both fell silent.

There were a few moments of silence between them, before I hear the sound of crashing glass.

If Jack is so pressed about me being here I must do something, he wouldn’t hesitate to take my brother life if something happened to Yoongi and it has been clear since day one how much he already disliked me I can’t let myself fall especially now that I’m under the same roof as them. If shooting one of Namjoons men wasn’t enough to prove them they had me I would have to go to the bottom of this. Things are getting messy more and more, Jack wasn’t wrong about this after all me being here definitely wasn’t the best choice. Why did I have to shoot that guy? Now I’m stuck here and probably will have to work more for Yoongi before he even considers letting me go, In the end is not much different then the my work at the station, I would still have to prove my worth for men the only difference is that now I must do it so Jack doesn’t kill my brother or me while I sleep.

- you know better then anyone else who I am and what I’m capable of… - Yoongis tone wasn’t as calm as before, now sharp and clear - do you not trust me?

- of course I do… is she who I don’t trust! - Jack exasperated, anger spilling at every word.

- I’ll kill her myself if she does anything - Yoongi said, his words sanded a chill down my spine.

Everyone seemed to have a desire with for my head on a plate, even though all I did was obey. None of them say a single words after that, I heard step’s getting closer and I quickly turned to leave that wasn’t the best moment to be found by someone who wanted me dead sneaking around especially after he had a very exclusive conversation with his boss. If I wasn’t going down by Yoongis hands Jack would definitely do the job,very painfully I assumed.

And so, if his trust is what I need to get to live I better do something quickly.

Before I could even take another step the doors were opened harshly, good thing they opened towards the outside hiding me from Jack in the process and almost breaking my nose as well.

I swallowed hard feeling my heart almost bursting out of my chest, I waited a bit as I could tell Jack was leaving the corridor through his heavy steps until I don’t hear any sound of him to come out of my hiding spot behind the door.

I took a deep breath before entering this couldn’t wait any longer, I had to set things straight with Yoongi now or else this would end very ugly. Closing the doors behind me as I entered I was soon meet with a large office the room was dark no lights in it except for the the light coming from the window balcony were he stood back turned towards me not noticing me presence. I took a deep breath holding myself as I felt a cold wind flew by the opened window, he still wore the same red silky robe from earlier smoke filling the air around him cigarette in his hand. He seemed to be in deep thought not noticing as I made my way into his office.

Suddenly I felt so small, like I just disrupted a tiger who was sleeping peacefully but I needed to have this talk with him we have to put the cards on the table now more then ever. If I can’t play against him, I’ll play with him instead.

I cleared my throat the sound making him look over his shoulder instantly, my heart almost skipping a beat as his eyes locked with mine the smallest gestures of his could turn my whole world upside down. I had to take control of my body, this won’t work if he keeps affecting me this way.

He turned back slowly taking a blow of the cigarette as he sat down on the big chair behind the desk, blowing the smoke lazily as he looked at me up and down. I swallowed hard, all the muscles in my body goin stiff under his sharp eyes.

He looked incredible good right now, messy dark hair and chest half exposed by the robe he didn’t care to tie.

- are you just going to stand there and watch me? - he asked.

- no… - o clear my throat again, mind going blank at the sight of him - we need to talk.

That’s right, talk. I have to put my cards on the table and now is time for our first match, only thing I have no cards to use against him.

- we do - he agrees, putting the cigarette down.

I took the seat in front of him. Nervously and slowly I tried to use any second a could in order to form a sentence, we have been through so much now yet I have no idea how to start this conversation.

Like something was lost after we slept together, I can’t let that change my mind so easily but I also cannot ignore it. After all, Yoongi brought me here.

- why did you brought me here? - I asked him, that was a good start.

- I already told you that - he said, blowing more of the smoke in the air.

- yes, but you didn’t explain - he sighted, I watched as he just took another blow of the cigarette eyes going up and down over me.

-right, I’ll explain then - he got up from the chair, walking up to a small bar set on the left just before the window he filled a cup for himself before proceeding with his explanation - there is a order in crime, those who come before anyone else and those who come after them. At the top is where me and a few more people stand, anyone else that comes after us is… well low graded.

- were do I stand in there? - I asked watching as he game me a smirk only.

- nowhere, you don’t stand there - he said, sitting back down at the chair in front of me - you seem, leaders of powerful groups like me are what you can call a pure blood. People who work for us are dirty blood, to enter Paradise you must prove you’re one of us or that you belong to us that way we keep things under control and away from any risks of being find.

- what happens if someone who’s not you or work for you tries to get in?

- well two scenes could happen - he said, taking a sip from the cup - you have a card that proves you belong to someone or you don’t, so you die.

- just like that?

- yes, we can’t risk our client’s safety - he said, eyes fallowing every part of my face for my reaction.

- is that why you gave me that card?

- that’s not the same thing, you gave me someone else’s card that someone didn’t wanted to belong anymore and used you to returned to me - he explained leaning forward to get closer, a smirk on his lips - by returning her card you automatically offered yourself to me.

- what?! - I gasped.

- I thought Scarlet told you that, that’s why I accepted you seeing your confusion now she must’ve not - he chuckled.

- but why would you even consider accepting me on the first place - I asked, this didn’t make any more sense to me. Why use such stupid method for something so serious?

- we needed a new mole and you just so happened to be there right on time - he mumbles - nothing especial.

I couldn’t face the smirk on his lips deciding to keep my focus on his hands instead as he played with the tip of the cup in front of him, the brown liquid melted the ice cubes on it smoke dancing around the air.

That woman knew exactly what would happened to me yet she didn’t utter a single word about it, she knew what all of that meant but didn’t told me anything. I could feel the anger building inside me, the more I thought about her face the more hate filled men nerves. I should’ve had noticed something was off, no one hands information that easily. That card she gave me then by Yoongis words meant she worked for him before, that’s how she knew were he was and Paradise. I wondered what kind of work he gave her, that would explain why he would need a woman.

I’m sure he could have better men do what ever job he wants yet, he choose me - actually he accepted as he said. Here I did everything he asked me, leaking information for him and even shoot someone for him and I’m still here. I wasn’t part of his world just a mere mistake, a mere side effect that happened because of my stupid choices and actions, was sleeping with me all he wanted? Why was I still here?

He sighted getting up from the chair walking around the desk to stop in front of me leaning over towards me his face mere inches away from mine, a cold chill running all over my skin as I turned my eyes back to the floor I couldn’t even look at him now. I didn’t even try to stop him from bringing me here he gave me his hand and I took it, I was the one who decided to shake hands with the devil.

My brother was a mere contributor for this to happen, t protect my brother I must live. I want to live. It is clear as the sky, who ever crosses Yoongis path will end up dead that gives me no choice but, honestly I couldn’t feel single bit of remorse about it. Not everyone in this world if a saint, everybody has their own secrets and share of misfortune, not everybody can play the hero but that doesn’t mean you don’t have to get your hands dirty a bit. Playing safe can only take somewhere, if you don’t take the risk and shake hands with the devil sometimes you’ll never be able to reach farther. I was tired of being the nice person, never saying no while everyone though they could walk over me.

I have to play smart if I want to keep breathing, I’ll gladly shake hands with him again in order to do that.

- the moment I saw you in that police station, I could tell you were born to be like me… you’re whole body aches for this. I see the potential in you, so why not under me? - he whispered, leaning towards me he looked me against the chair with both hands on rather side of me.

He slowly brushed my hair out of my face. Just like this morning I felt completely hypnotized by him, his words were poison disguised as sweet honey, dripping from his lips like he never spoke a lie.

He was giving me the opportunity to work for him, now is my chance to make this deal. Although I don’t completely agree with him or his methods.

- how would you know? - I breathless asked him, only for his smirk to grow even more. How could he just read me like that.

My body felt deeply attracted to his, every cell on my skin was aching to meet his but this wasn’t good for me. How could he know so much about me, when we only meet a few times? How could he read me so well to know who I’m?

All I did this whole time was to survive, to protect my brother. How was that because I’m like him?

- because… - he closed the distance between us, lips brushed over mine - anyone else would call the police already, you’re were not one of them so the right decision you should’ve made was to tell someone about all the things that happened. Stop lying to yourself y/n. You’re choices speak louder than all this bullshit you’re trying to put up.

- no, you used m y brother against me, I didn’t have a choice - I stared back into his pool of ice coffee iris.

- you and I both know you did, that night you didn’t have to come alone you didn’t have to come at all - he chuckled - use all this excuses to make yourself plausible, you think you can go back to your station and they will give you a big hug and flowers?

- I’m not like you…. - I said through my teeth.

- no… - he said amazed, hands closing around my chin to make look up into his eyes - you can’t ever be like me, I’m worst.

- what do want from me anyway? - I spat, taking his hand from my face.

- depends… what are you willing to do for me? - he retorted, standing up he walked back to his chair sitting down - can put a bunny to work for me if she won’t be able to hunt.

- I think you already know…. - the thought of the night before instantly flowing back to my mind. I was willing to shoot someone again if needed. But not willing to admit that out loud.

A moment of silence fell between us so thick you could cut with a knife. We were exposing our cards now, I had a stupid pair of threes of spades while he kept putting aces down. Each time. Every word coming out of his mouth just as sharp as a knife.

There was still one card I needed to get out of this play.

- why were you at the station that day? - I finally asked him - the night after we meet in downtown, you were at the station and then… you attacked the diretor of my… of the station.

- just some business…

- cut that bulshit! - I snap - you better start giving me answers!

- I don’t owe you nothing… your one of my dogs now - he said, tilting his head to the side a smirk on his lips mocking me - but if you wanna know so bad, and we’ll since you did used to work there I’ll tell you after your done with your job tonight.

- what about my brother? - I asked him, making him sight.

- humm… well, he owes me a lot of money - he smirked.

- I’ll pay for him… - I swallowed hard. The smirk immediately desapear from his face, he looked at me dead in the eye as if already expecting.

- who said I’d accept it?

- what? - my body immediately falling over the feeling of an exhausted helplessness. Why wouldn’t he accept? What does that even mean?

- he owes me…. Not you - he said, lighting another cigarette.

At that I scoffed.

- he’s my responsibility, I failed to protect him that’s why he’s like that now. - I tell him.

- trust me… it’s not your fault - he said, looking up to blow the smoke as if he knew something I don’t.

- just let me pay for him already… - I insisted.

- do you have the money? - he said impatiently.

- I’ll get it… - somehow I could. I didn’t even knew how much he owed them. Yet here I’m putting my neck on the line again.

- you don’t. - he cuts me off - which means you can only do one thing to pay your brothers debit.

I swallowed nervously. Cheeks hitting up.

- don’t worry… I don’t want you to pay it with sex - he chuckled, noticing my expression - that won’t bring my money back.

- no? I mean of course it won’t, I thought…

- you’ll stay here and work for me - he said - can’t risk that little mouth of yours outside anyways, especially when that Namjoon guy is searching everywhere for you.

The mention of Namjoon immediately brought my eyes back to his. He was searching for me? Why would he, after everything I’ve done. Only if he doesn’t know anything how I was the one who sabotage his whole operation. Maybe he does know, of course he does no one could beat him at the station he was the best investigator there he’s probably looking for me to put me behind bars.

- what’s with you and that guy anyway? - Yoongi asked, - he always seems so… are you and him, you know?

- no. - I immediately cut him off, anger boiling inside me at his insinuating - he is just… was a friend.

- i don’t really care about that… just making sure….

- I won’t tell him anything don’t worry, is not like I can he’s probably looking for me to lock me up - I interrupted him, this whole conversation turned upside down - he’ll do that if he finds me, I won’t make that mistake.

- good then. - he drank the whole liquid before putting the cigarette insides - you’ll be staying here from now.

- I need my things - I tell him, I can’t stay here without clothes and shampoo. It feels like prison.

- I’ll manege that don’t worry, - he said - I need you to be ready tonight though, we’ll go to paradise tonight I need to finish some business… I’ll use your excellent talent into finding people to get a rat that seems to be lost.

I only nodded. Of course that wouldn’t be any wait until I get used to all of this, someone like him must have his hands full of work he probably doesn’t spare any second to get into action.

Talent into finding people, he meant how I was so up his ass in the station to find him. I didn’t found him though, he was the one who found me.

That time, I was the rat.

[…]

If someone told me I would be working for the mafia years ago, I would have laughed at their face. I had trained my entire life to put guys like him under bars nothing could ever excuse all the thing their organization did to so many people, downtown has been the worse every since Agust D implanted himself here. But look at me now, working for him willing.

If I wanted to blame my brother for it, I could. All his irresponsible choices took me there to help him, if I didn’t went there to save him and actually called Namjoon for help would it be any different? But if I didn’t have gotten there, what if something happened to him? Any minute longer my brother would be dead in that day. Would Yoongi show up to help my brother? Why did he help us that night, more then that he took us to eat.

When he mentioned how much money brother owed him I saw how his eyes shined, he knew something I didn’t about my brother more then just his addiction maybe, but what could that be? How am I supposed to find that out now?

Yoongi is somehow connected to the police, that’s how he’s been able to clean his tracks. He probably has someone else there working for him, just like he did to me. What Jack told me about this unknown men is that he runaway somehow and then I was the one doing the dirty work, I’ve been working in that station for years and I never noticed anything strange but, how could I anyway. I was a mere cop and on top of it all a woman. They would never even talk to me.

Thinking about it now, I’m starting to understand why Yoongi choose me to work there for him. I was the perfect puppet for his play. For as long as I have been working as a cop at the station they never really treated me equally, never letting me join the real cases and always just giving the paper work besides all my capabilities and background they never even gave me a chance to prove what I could do. I was an outcast there, how would they notice me running around stealing information for the mafia, they couldn’t even look me in the same level. No one would expect it.

At this point I don’t even know where my judgment has come to, Yoongi is the bad guy. He is the evil that robs all are streets from seafty, this feeling of attraction can stop me from seeing him as who he truly is.

Maybe I’m not as good as I thought I was? Maybe he is right, I’m a bad person.

I know I can’t runaway from the path I choose but I don’t feel like running anymore. At the station no matter how good I was it was never enough, I would never be enough for them. This might not be the best path for someone to fallow, but I trust myself more then anyone in this world. I would never chose a path I can’t walk through, if I came here alive I’ll stay alive.

After I left Yoongis office mind still clouded with thoughts as I made my back to the room we had slept in, he said he would bring some of my clothes from my house soon also making sure no one knows about it and insured my brother wouldn’t knew either that someone went there, after that he only told me to be ready by 7pm. No details. Short and direct.

He wasn’t taking me out to eat, he gave me a mission. And if finding someone was all there was to it, it shouldn’t be so difficult? Besides is not like he asked me to end someone’s life.

A small clock was sat at the side table of the bed, I notice it was 3pm. The fact that it wouldn’t take much longer for me to start getting ready to go to Paradise again, made me nervous. This time was different then the other times I went there, those times I was set to get information to use against Yoongi and now I would have to get information for him it was complete different, I knew he was using this stupid mission to see if would be able to work under him, he was testing me. I was feed up with all this tests and mind games he kept playing to use me, but I could blame him a man in such position would never risk his empire over a a small inconvenience like me. I should’ve expected that from the beginning, he doesn’t put you into training like the police does to k ow you’re worth, he throws you in a ring and you better come out alive. I didn’t know how I would be able to do this, I agreed with him to do this. This time it was all my choice and deep down I knew it was my last test.

The police never once was able to enter paradise, not until I was. But I’m not a cop anymore. It wasn’t official but I doubt it would take much longer for my face to be on the news.

“Female cop join hands with the mafia, turns out she’s been giving out information to them and she was the cause of the long take to solve the case”

People would hate me. If my father was alive, he would probably put me in jail no second thought. But if he was alive, would I even be here now? My brother wouldn’t have choose that path, he wouldn’t owe Yoongi a single dollar. And I wouldn’t have had to save him that night. Still Yoongi had connections in the station, would we still meet me after all?

While I was walking around the room deep in my thoughts of how I completely destroyed my life, a few nocks on the door took me out of my mind completely. In a few seconds a maid entered the room with a tray of food, she seemed old a few grey hairs standing out at the sides of her perfectly made bun. She didn’t made eye contact with me not did she smiled.

- boss asked me to bring you some food, - with that she pulled the tray over the bed and turned back to me - your dress will be delivered soon as well your things.

With one last bow she turned back and left.

I looked over the food on the bed, it was two sandwiches and a orange juice. So soon I’ll go back to paradise, except this time I’ll be going with Agust D.

I didn’t wanted to think about anything anymore, right now more then ever I just wanted to throw everything in the air. I’m such a cowered. Things get tight and what do I do? Stupidly try to forget about it? I won’t ever be able to forget anything.

I could die any moment by the hands of Agust d right shoulder, Jack. Without any words he made it very clear that if I took some step slightly wrong, he would end my brother and I.

Not only is my brothers life on the line now but mine, and Namjoons.

A while later I was finally able to eat the food the maid brought me, my nervousness was beginning to make me weak and tonight I’ll need all the energy I have to complete this mission.

Good or bad a mission is still a mission. That’s what Namjoon would always said to me to make me feel better about all the paper work i was put to do. He knew better what a bad mission is like no one else.

After eating I decided to take a cold quick shower, just to wake up my body and muscles. Once I was done I walked back to the room only to find a few boxes around and a dress placed over the bed. I took a look closer to it taking the black silk into my hands, the tag flew out of its hiding spot and I gasped.

No he did not.

I immediately put it back on the bed.

Yoongi you little…. Why would you spend that much money on a dress like that?

I sighted holding my temple, no way I’ll wear that tonight. After recomposing myself I looked over the two boxes beside the bed. Opening one I found out my clothes in one, the other had all my personal necessities. He better not have sanded a men to get my underwear.

After looking around my clothes I decided to wear a simple black shirt and a dark colored jeans. If anything happens tonight I’ll be able to defend myself and move around without being noticed.

I took a few looks at myself on the mirror, the door of the room opened quickly starling me I turned back to find Yoongi. He must have showered already, hair a bit wet and styled back. He wore black as usual except for his white shirt underneath the coat. The minty and woody scent coming form him was enough to make you drunk on him. I cleared my throat as he continued to look at me up and down one eyebrow slightly raised.

- what are you wearing? - he asked, his sudden question making me look side to side.

- clothes?

- no obviously… - he rolled his eyes back walking up to me stoping a few feet away - you’re not wearing this tonight, right?

- yes I’m.

He only chuckled.

- put the dress on - he order, a serious expression over his features.

- no, I’m going there for work not partying - I tell him.

- you take things way to seriously…. - he said closing the distance between us - you’re not walking beside me in Paradise wearing that, otherwise I would t have bought that dress just to collect dust.

I gulped down. Dressed like this, of course he wouldn’t want to be seen with someone like like me there. I bet red haired woman was much better company then. I turned to side, trying to act as if his words didn’t make a difference to me, as if I wasn’t hurt by it. Over the mirror I catches him looking me up and down again before looking into my eyes one last time and turned back around. He sat lazily over the end of the bed, signaling to the dress.

I sighted. Walking towards the dress I took agryy making my way to the bathroom, the smirk on his face making me even more angry. Stupid Yoongi and stupid dress.

I took a deep breath before looking at the black silky dress, it was long with a v cut on the left to show the leg, long sleeves that exposed the shoulders small diamonds fallowing a v line over the chest, it left the back to show witch meant I wouldn’t be able to wear a bra with it. How am I supposed to work wearing this?

Forget it, I’ll just put it on to show him and then I’ll take it off.

A dress was the least of my problems now, so I didn’t thought about much after I put it on. Not taking another second I burst out of the bathroom standing in front of Yoongi as he looked up from the floor to me. I don’t know why I was so angry about this but it all seemed to deasapear once I locked eyes with him.

- happy now? - I asked him, closing my arms over my chest. Looking anywhere but him.

- much pleased… - he said. Getting up.

- no, you wanted me to put it on and I did I’ll change back now.

- why can’t you just wear the dress?

- you don’t know? - I asked him incredibly - how am I supposed to defend myself in this? What if I need to run? This isn’t the best disguise!

He walked back towards me, a chuckled leaving his lips once he stood in front of me. I felt so small now I could bearly look at him. How would he know. He’s man.

- you won’t have to defend yourself, I’ll be right there for you - he said, hand over my chin to look up at him - I won’t let anyone hurt you.

- if you do… I’ll hurt you then - at that he smirked.

- is a deal then - He said walking back - put on the shoes I got for you it will look better with the dress.

I looked at him incredulous, he meant the black stiletto over the bed? No way.

- you’ll get the dress I’ll choose the shoes - I tell him.

- fine, as long as it’s not a stupid converse - he said.

- what’s your problem with them? - I asked him as I sit down in the end of the bed.

- they’re just… too hard to take off - he said.

- hard to take… - i immediately stopped myself once I realized what he meant - of course.

I took my Dr. Martens boots and begin to put it on.

- you’re not wearing that - he said.

- yes I’m - I tell him one I’m done, looking up at him with arms closed over my chest - besides you won’t have to worry about taking them off of me tonight.

He chuckled looking down at me.

- I have one more thing for you - he said, walking back to me.

He stood in front of me before getting on his right knee, I looked at him confused until I saw him taking a knife out of his back, it was a tigh garter for one small knife.

- in case you need it - he said, taking my knee in his hand the v cut of the dress exposing my leg for him to slide the garter on my leg stoping over my tigh.

The small knife was secured under the black silk of my dress hidden away from anyone who might see it. He looked up to me, something in his eyes sparkle differently.

- thank you…

He only gave me a smirk, standing up to walk out of the room. I quickly recomposed myself fallowing him outside.

Something was telling me tonight wouldn’t be like any other night I was at paradise, I kept seeing red the more I thought about it even when I tried to push it away it came right back to me.

[…]

The ride to Paradise wasn’t a long one. I sat beside Yoongi on the black Range Rover, even the air seemed different as Jack drove to Paradise but I tried to play it off maybe it was the fact that now I was going to be there as Yoongi makes his business happen, the possibilities of what might happen at the end of this night kept sending a chill down my back. After we’re finally in front of the night club, Jack and his men fallowed behind me and Yoongi as we make or way towards the entrance of the building.

Expensive cars all over around the place like usual, people wearing the most extravagant clothes possible. Smoke in the air as well as the smell of strong woody and sweet perfume.

As Yoongi walked in front to enter the building I fallowed close behind. Tonight everything seemed a bit different, people looked different. Maybe it was all in my head, I wasn’t a very frequent person here anyway. My eyes kept running around as if looking for a shadow hiding in the dark, ready to take off my mask. Starle by the sudden touch behind my back, Iooking up to Yoongi as he moves closer to me.

- stand close to me - he whispered in my ear, hand sliding around my back to stop at my right hip.

I swallowed hard. Only nodding.

We pass the guards who immediately leave space for Yoongi to enter, no questions asked. No questions needed. Agust D is the owner of everything here.

The loud music burst through my ears once we are inside Paradise, it wasn’t as full as it usualy was people who walked past us were definitely not the same usual people. Different from the other times I was here there was less people walking around half naked, the music on the first floor was the usual and a few woman dressed in sexy langerie were doing pole dance in the middle of a set up platform of the place, some just like them were carrying drinks around or small foods in golden trays. The amount of men walking around this place with the same aura as Yoongi led me to think that this was a night only for high class members of the mafia and criminals such as them.

Almost like they knew Agust d was coming, a waitress stopped in front of us and Jack immediately took front to speak with him. A mere waitress can’t speak with Yoongi was what I though.

After talking with Jack the waitress lead us to we’re we where set, a table on the second floor that we’re separated from all the others by a big glass door as water fell from it to a small pound with koy fishes you could only see from outside.

Yoongi stopped before we entered, turning me to him by the hips he leaned over my ear.

- I need you to find someone called Jang Jun woo, he is here somewhere hiding like a rat - he whispered - he is good in desguise and is now working here using the name of Han Seo a waitress in Paradise. Go find him for me, once you do come back to me with his location.

I looked up to him as he leaned back, giving him a nod I turned back to leave not wanting to waste a second. The sooner I find the guy the sooner I can leave here.

I decided to start by the first floor were most of the waitress were at the bar there and not walking around, quickly making my way there I felt so thankful Yoongi didn’t throw a fit for the heels. Especially since I would have to run over the entire building.

The heavy beat of drums and guitar stared playing as slow rock music played in the background, I could feel it beat through my whole body. Nervous I felt not knowing what to do first, I wasn’t given much information about the person I had to find. I didn’t know his face. Only his name wasn’t much to help but maybe that’s what Yoongi wanted, to make things more difficult for me so I work harder to find the guy he wanted. Yoongi could have any of his men doing the work and it would be over in minutes but he just had to make me do this in order to test me. If I wanted to stay alive I would have to find this men he was looking for. To be honest I thought Yoongi might already know we’re he is and is only testing me to the bones with this stupid mission, what he’ll do with that men after is not my problem my job is to find him and bring Yoongi to him.

I sighted taking a seat at the bar stool, the wall behind the bar was shining bright made entirely from led lights panels the lights shined over all the different kinds of drinks placed over it the same decoration was build on the second floor as well, while I sat there I notice a few people talked with the waitress working over there. There was a total of six men working on this bar, on the other side of this floor closer to the platforms where another bar like this one I would have to inspect it as well.

If I start asking for names it would be suspicious, so first I decided to only observe them that way no one would notice me and neither would Han seo, two waitresses walked passed over me but their name tags were not the one I needed to find. After making sure I got all their names confirming th done I needed wasn’t there I got up walking to the other side were they worked serving the people in front of them, trying my best not to make obvious I serched for the name in their tags. None of them were the one I needed.

Of course it wouldn’t be easy to find him, I have a feeling word mush have gone out that Agust D was coming tonight, and if he’s trying to hide from Yoongi it won’t be as easy to find him.

Only woman were serving drinks around the first floor and after I made sure I checked all the waitresses on the bars, I sighted making my way to the second floor there were two bars on this floor just like the first one people here played poker and drank, there was no one dancing like the first floor and music here was always much calmer then down there, as I entered the second floor I watched every corner of it different from the first floor only men were serving drinks and food here, I can’t just walk around the entire place looking for this men. Not only would it Ben suspicious but entirely useless, I would just be wasting time if I just walk around here. With a sight I turned to the bar close to the entrance for the second floor, after you take the stairs to get here at the left side occupying the entire wall the other one was in the middle of the room a circle bar almost as big as yoongis bathroom I thought. A big chandelier over it shined a warm color covered in diamonds.

I instead made my way to the closest to the entrance taking a sit on a bar stool, I could feel eyes on me the entire time. Maybe Jack was watching giving Yoongi all the details about my stupid investigation how so far I didn’t have a single clue about the Han seo whereabouts, how anyone else could have already funded him if he have made the choice to put me here instead.

- I almost didn’t recognize you… - a voice I knew very well said behind me.

Turning around at the source of the voice I’m meet with a very known face, of course I would run on him somehow I always do.

- Jimin… - I gave him a small smile which he replied with one dripping mischief.

- you look… delicious- he said walking to me taking one of my hand up to his lips to leave a small kiss over it.

- thank you… but I’m here for work actually - I played along.

- ah, what a shame… - he pushed his hair back I notice the black gloves he wore, it shined under the lights as bit of sweat falling from his neck contrasted between the glitter over his skin.

Tonight he had a heavy dark make up covering his eyes, the white shirt slightly button up as usual showing off his skin underneath it and black vinyl pants tightly hugging his legs. So many accessories over his neck shined under the blue lights, he didn’t let go of my hand standing beside me on the bar closing completely the distance between us. A lot had happened between us the last time I was here but, now I couldn’t let his beautiful face distract me it wasn’t the right time for it specially with everything going on.

It didn’t help how good he looked right now to say no, Jimin always seemed to have a way with people his words laced with sweetness he never said the wrong thing, always managing to get exactly what he wants eyes filled with dirtiness alcohol on his breath mixed with the strong scent of Chanel coming from his body he was breathtaking, I was sure there was not a single night were he wasn’t here at Paradise maybe I could take a few words from him since he’s always here. In the end of the night he might be very helpful.

Once I smiled back at him he asked for one of the waitress my eyes immediately falling over his name tag, but just my luck it was not the one I was looking for.

- whiskey for me, lots of ice please is too hot tonight - he smirked while looking back at me, his eyes shined brighter as he took in my features - and for my darling here…

- champagne, please - I answered.

- champagne it is …. - he smirked at me.

The waitress took our orders and walked back to prepare them.

- I saw you entering with Agust d… - Jimin coments - so you really are working with him?

- it seems like it doesn’t it?

- I better watch out then…. He doesn’t like sharing toys - Jimin said, a knowing smile growing over his full lips. He was looking for my reaction, trying to read between the lines. As much lovely as he might presents himself, Jimin wasn’t a fool I could tell he knew exactly what he was doing and with who he was talking.

- I’m not his toy… - I simply said eyes running over the waitress at the bar, feelinghis hold over my hand tightened making me look back into his smoky eyes.

- so he didn’t send you here for a stupid little mission…. - he said.

His words making my checks immediately heat up, he knew. Of course he would know. I wasn’t the first one to be in this exact position and not will I be the last one, sooner or later Yoongi would find someone else to take my place. Tonight might just be that time he’ll choose someone else to if I fail this stupid test.

The waitress soon puts our drinks down in front of us, Jimin immediately drinks half of his before turning to me completely leaning closer to whispered behind my ear.

- maybe I can help you? - the smirk danced over his lips full of mischief.

I didn’t know if I could fully trust him, but right now I had nothing on the guy Yoongi wanted me to find and since Jimin seemed to be so whiling to help I might as well just play along with it, something’s only a woman can do.

- can you? - I whisper back leaning towards him, hand slight dancing over his jaw to bring him closer. He seemed completely out of it, eyes looking up to mine and down my lips.

We’ve been here before, I hated to use the words but he was so easy to use. Anyone could get anything from him with just a few touches, Jimin was the type to exchange information for pleasure for that reason I couldn’t trust him completely but for now, that is exactly what I need.

- your wish is my command - he said against my lips.

I turned to whispered in his ear, making sure to run the tip of my nose over his neck.

- I’m trying to find a little rat that escaped.

- oh, I sure can help you with it. - he said, - nothing happens here that I don’t know about it.

- good kitty - I run my fingers through his hair, he smiles softly. The pet name rolling down my tongue, I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing but it was working.

- who do you need - he murmured over my ear, I could see goosebumps running down his skin.

- a guy named Jang Jun woo, I heard his working here under the name Han seo do you know anything about it? - I asked him, running my hand over his arm.

- oh that guy…. What do you need him for? - he asked.

- just talking, he’s been running away I’m a bit worried about him… - I played.

- I see… i can ask for him here, he’s working in the kitchen now - he said, that fact that he knew so well about this guy didn’t went past me.

- how do you know this? - I asked. He leaned back a smirk over his lips as he stared down at me.

- I know the owner of this place, you can say… we’re pretty close - he said, taking his phone out of pocket.

He knew the owner of Paradise, that meant Yoongi wasn’t the one who ruled this place. Then who is it?

Shaking that thought form my mind for now, my focus was back at the mission in front of me. I still had to think of a way to make sure Yoongi could get Jun woo without him running away, that meant I would have to immobilize him completely. A plan was already forming in my head as I stared at Jimin.

- could ask Han seo to prepare a room for me on the thrid floor? - I ask him, running my fingers over his neck down his chest stoping over a button. Eyes looked with his.

- of course I can… but I thought you just needed to talk with him? - he said.

- don’t worry about it… it’s not him who I want now - Jimin was so easy to play with, with only a few words and a touch here and there I could get anything from him.

I felt bad to use him like this, but not everyone is good in this world. I’ll use whoever I need to and I’ll do what ever I need to, I can’t back down now form this. Yoongi can have anyone doing this for him, that means I’m replaceable if I don’t show him I can do this my head will becut off before I can even try to runaway.

- I’ll get it ready right now then… - he said.

- good kitty… - I left a small peck over his cheek.

- only for you - he took his phone out calling someone - hey Tae, can you ask that Han seo guy to get a room ready for me?

I watched as he talked on the phone.

Tae. Another new name I have to save for later, once I finish this I’m sure I’ll have more questions for Yoongi. That is if I finish this job before Jack puts a bullet in my head. The thought that this might be my last chance wasn’t gone completely from my mind, it definitely didn’t help to know a guy such as him was ready to take me out so easily.

- thanks man… - he turned off the phone - is done, just wait a few minutes I’ll go upstairs with you.

- ok, thank you - I tell him.

- no need, everything for my pretty girl - he laced one arm over my waist bringing me closer, eyes glued to my lips.

- by the way who were talking too? - I change the subject quickly before i give into the temptation of his juicy lips, the longer I was here with him the harder it was to stand there and not grab him by the neck. His captivating aura definitely didn’t help.

- Tae? Oh he’s… how can I tell you? The boss here? - he took the cup with liquid on drinking the entire thing a big gulp.

- so he owes Paradise?

- since you are in our side now… I’ll tell you - he leaned closer - Agust handed Paradise for him personally…. Taes Father was close to Agust like a parent I would say, they are like brothers now.

- oh , I’ll trust him then…

He only gave me a smile, I took a sip of the champagne looking around I could see Yoongis men all over the place to protect him or to make sure I do my job and don’t runaway. I was sure it was the second option. The more I thought about him the more questions raised in my mind, Yoongi had this connection with a guy named Tae, who he handed Paradise to all because he was close with the guys father. The thought made think that somewhere deep down his nonexistent heart was something still human in him, why could he do such thing if not. It was hard to believe though but part of me couldn’t help see something good in him after the sudden information. Nobody knows anything about Yoongi, they all fear him though. I know no one is born a monster, so what happened to him that made him be one?

After we have our drinks Jimin gets up holding a hand out for me to take, I did letting him guide me he said the room was ready and the guy Han seo was waiting there so we made our ways to the third floor.

My heart was beating faster in my chest the closer we got to the corridor the music started to feel deafening, I had no idea what I would do from the moment I step foot in that room. The walls of the corridor felt smaller the deeper we made our way in, stoping in front of a door I looked at the number 226 in gold over the dark wood. I didn’t know how I would go from here, what was I supposed to do with the guy since he’s been hiding from Yoongi there is a good chance he will try to scape. I would have to be very careful about this, I just need to make sure he stays there until Yoongi comes up here.

With that all in mind I opened the door, the guy had his back to me when I entered he was quietly fixing the bed then moved to fix a bottle of champagne over it. Once he turned starlet by my presence he gave me a bow, quickly making his way to leave. Close enough for me to see his name tag, I relief fill my body.

Han seo shined over the simple tag name. Before he could take another step o took his arm into mine.

- Agust D has business with you Jun woo - I tell him.

I didn’t know his face but the desparation in his eyes as soon as I mention Yoongi and his real name were enough prof. He’s the one I needed to find. Hetried to dogged me and leave the room but i held his arm tighter pushing him over I used my leg to make him fall, holding his arm up with my feat over his shoulder into breaking I forced my feat on him twisting his arm to the right until I hear him groaning at the pain, I stepped over his face.

- quiet! Or I’ll break your arm off - I tell him, getting another painful groan form him.

- what are you doing? - Jimin entered the room, eyes changing from me to the guy on the floor.

- he tried to scape…. - I tell him.

- oh yeah?

- don’t look at me like that - I angrily tell him - you know who I work for, now get something to tied him up now!

He murmured a “ok” and quickly moved around the room to find something to tie the guy, I kept my hold over his arm until Jimin finally bring me the golden ties of the curtains. The guy tried to run away again once I released his arm to tie him but I quickly nocked him out by kicking him in the face. Surprise at my own actions i quickly began to tied up the guy, he lazily kept trying to stop me but I held him still with my feet over his back. One I was sure he wouldn’t be able to get out of the, I turned back to Jimin.

- can I have your phone please? - he nodded handing it to me.

I moved to the guy, taking his cap off I took a pic of his face with the flash on. I had to make sure he was the guy Yoongi was looking for.

- Jimin… can you make sure he stays here like this and not escape? I’ll be back soon - I tell him.

- I wouldn’t dare to disobey - he said, a chuckled coming from his lips - I’ll make sure the rat doesn’t move.

- thanks kitty - I tell him.

I quickly left the room making my way out of the corridor down the stairs to the second floor, adrenaline filling my whole body. Is that how it feels when you get the bad guys? Namjoon must always feel so great after having a mission completed. A small smile made its way to my lips unconsciously, I shouldn’t feel this way but it was still a way of getting back at the bad guys. At least that would be my sense of accomplishment for now.

Quickly making my way we’re back to the second floor where Yoongi was, I had to get there fast before the guy upstairs try anything funny with Jimin. It wouldn’t be nice to let him get in the middle of this whole situation, although he did help me get the guy there. Once I was close enough to the separate table in the corner were I last went with Yoongi I notice a shadow of someone’s head behind the glass wall there, it seemed he had some company there or there then Jack now. Walking past the body guard I made my way inside there seeing as Yoongi sat comfortably on the armchair at the corner, Jack sat at the bigger purple sofa beside Yoongi and over the other side were the glass door was a man a never saw before sat in front of Jack.

Knowing the guy could escape i quickly made my way to Yoongi.

- is it him? - I showed him the picture I took with Jimins phone.

He took the phone from me a smirk forming on his lips as he passed the phone to Jack.

- hes on the thrid floor room 226 - I tell Yoongi.

- very well then, get things ready - he said to Jack who immediately stood up and went out of there with the body guards.

I watched as Yoongi leans back looking me from up and down the smirk never leaving his lips, he holds his hand out for me which i carefully took it, feeling hm ouch me down to sit over his lap hand holding my exposed back to support me the simple touch immediately sanded chills down my spine.

- wanna drink something? - he suddenly asked me.

- no I already had champagne - I tell him, moving my arm around his shoulder.

- yeah I heard… - he said moving a strand of hair behind my ear.

So he was watching me the entire time, my suspicions were right. All of those guards of his were not there to protect him but to keep an eye on my every move. This whole job was a test indeed, I knew that from the beginning. The mocking sound of his voice had more then just a confirmation of this, he knew about me and Jimin.

- this guy here is Chris - he says - he works for me in downtown.

He pointed at the men sitting there, the man held his glass up for me a smile on his face the guy seemed to be in his forties or so, the half done beard and wet blonde hair with a few strands of white were slightly pushed back he wore a red shirt half bottom up exposing the big golden chain around his neck, cigarette on his right hand and a cup with whiskey on the other hand.

His eyes kept running up and down my legs the entire time ever since I walked in, disgust instantly filling me up. That’s why I hate wearing dresses like this, men always look at you like you’re just a piece of meet in a showcase with their little to nonexistent brain think they can get anything from you just because your showing some skin.

I wanted to throw up.

- I see you have a new bitch, does Scarlet knows? - he said, smoke leaving his lips as he takes a sip of the golden liquid on his cup.

- she was the one who left - Yoongi said, hand closing around my knee exposed by the dress slightly moving up - why would I waste my time?

- does this beauty have a name? - he said, making my eyes go back to his disgusting face I catch him eyeing me again.

- not your business- i spat at him, I didn’t care if he was one of Yoongis men or what ever. I was tired of this whole situation.

- oh feisty, for just a another bitch…. just acompaning you Agust? - he said as if I wasn’t there, finally looking away from and at Yoongi beside me.

Rage was boiling over me, I still had the adrenaline from earlier running through my whole body just looking at the disgusting face of Chris was enough to make my blood boil. This place was not different from the station, men still had no respect for woman he must not know what I’m capable of and right now neither do I know what I’m capable of doing if he keeps talking to me like I’m just, a bitch.

The feeling of Yoongis fingers sliding over my thigh towards the knife he gave me before was the only thing that brought me back to my control, immediately looking back to his face as he leaned over my ear.

- should I cut off his toungue? - Yoongi whispered on my ear, hand stoping above the knife, ready to take it.

Although his words sanded a chill down my body, for a second there I felt important. I don’t know what made him say that, the fact that the guy has only been disrespectful towards me and not him shouldn’t be enough for him to cut off his tongue for me. Still he was right there ready to take matter into his hands.

With a heart racing on my chest I slightly brushed my fingers over the hairs at the back of his neck, feeling his breathing deepening at the small touch. There was nothing I wanted more in that moment then to see that guy regretting his words.

- maybe… doesn’t he needs to talk business with you though? - I tell him, turning back to him. - you can do it afterwards.

I’ve never felt so much rage before, I hated this type of guys.

- right… - he said to me. Hand sliding off the knife. I had no doubt he would cut off the guy. Right now I had enough on my plate for such show.

He leaned back eyes staring bored at the guy in front of him, Chris cleaned his throat before sitting straight into his seat.

- so did you find the rat you were talking about? - he asked Yoongi.

- I’m still looking…. You see he’s been hiding very well - Yoongi said. Hand sliding up my back slowly eyes glued to the men’s in front of him. Something seemed different between them.

They were talking about the guy upstairs and if Yoongi just lied about not finding him, it must mean this guy had something to do with Jun woo. Could it be he was also behind this all? Is that why Yoongi is meeting with him tonight the same date as he’s getting back at Jun woo?

Shit. This was going to be a long night.

- doesn’t seem like your stressing yourself much over that… - Chris guy said.

- I have someone looking over it soon he’ll be dead - at Yoongis words I immediately freeze.

I shouldn’t be surprised things would end this way, that’s why he sanded Jack over there to finish the job.

- should we have a toast old friend? - said Chris - here I got you your favorite straight from the business.

A woman with a tray with drinks suddenly enters taking me complete from my thoughts, she wear a black tube dress handing a new drink for Chris before making her way over to Yoongi a cup with dark liquid the strong scent of it which I could tell was definitely whiskey. As he reach to get the cup from her I watched her eyeing him almost rolling my own eyes but before I can even think about it I notice the small pill at the bottom of the cup at making bubbles almost unnoticeable as the ice inside it covered the pill. I’ve seen it many cases with drugs like this at the station and suddenly everything began to connect in my mind.

People here were definitely different from the other times I was here, everyone were important mafia members knowing who with not single doubt know how powerful Yoongi was of course someone would try to take him down. Especially a guy that seemed to be working with the little rat Yoongi was about to kill.

Anger immediately boiled me up, I didn’t think for a second before I take the cup from Yoongis hand as I stood up, throwing it over the table in the middle starling every one around it. In a second I took my knife out of my garter as I made my way to Chris grabbing the man’s face I hold the sharp metal against his cheek.

- how dare you! - I accused him. He groaned eyes searching up for Yoongi behind me. - what’s on his cup? You better tell me now or all cut your face off!

For a moment I saw fear in his face, he looked desperate at Yoongi before my actions but at the mention of the drug on his cup all the fear seemed to dissipate from his face as he only laughed. The sound of his laughter turned a switch on my mind, I no longer could hold it anymore I was simply tired of hearing them laugh at me. With no second thoughts I held the knife tighter over his skin slowly cutting his face as blood started to drip from it.

I could tell Yoongi just sat there watching probably amused by the sight clearly entertained by it, the security guards entered the room but were quickly signaled to back off by him.

From the corner of my eyes I notice Jacks presence there as well, right just in time.

- just ecstasy…. - Chris mumbles under me, he laughed sickly - seems like the bitch doesn’t know her men… silly girl…

Anger boiled over every cell in my body, any idea of sanity I had was gone in that moment. If they don’t know what I’m capable of, I’ll gladly show them.

- seems like you are the one who doesn’t know your place…. - i tell him - let me remind you.

In that split of seconds I catcher that glimpse of fear again that I so desperately was looking for, he didn’t expect me to go further and he didn’t thought for a second Yoongi wouldn’t stop me and with that i cut half his face with the knife Yoongi gave me, deep enough to leave a scar. He groaned out loud, blood pouring from his face as he desperately tried to cover with his hands, I didn’t bother to look at Yoongi in that moment I was pissed at him as well for some reason, putting the knife back at the garter on my thigh I walked out passing beside Jack who stood there at the entrance of the small room ignoring the his hard stare over me I quickly made my way towards the round bar in the middle of the place anger still boiling inside of me. I was tired of men thinking they could laugh at me in the face.

I asked for a new drink for Yoongi, it was still rude of me for that but I couldn’t risk his life like that. Jack would immediately cut every bone in my body if I did. I was lucky he wasn’t there when the commotions stared.

When working as a cop you can’t do such thing to your culprits, you can’t cut half their face just to show who is in control but here is not like this. In Paradise everyone had dirty secrets so many mafia members walk around no one feared to say anything to them, is basically like a swim with sharks if you bleed they will treat you like a prey. I can’t bleed. So I have to ensure I’m not the prey.

Once the waitress gave the new drink for Yoongi I took it with me as I made my way back there. Stopping before the entrance as I heard their voices.

- you need to control your bitch Agust! - Chris spat.

- you need to control your mouth - yoongi responded. There was a minute of silence between them.

I didn’t expect him to take my side. I honestly thought he would put a bullet through my head for doing that to his guest. Although he did asked me if i wanted him to cut his tongue off for calling me that before. That thought gave me some confidence as I finally entered there.

Yoongis eyes looking straight back to mine, regardless of everything the presence of that Chris guy was still a reminder of my anger dripping through every cell of my body. He disgusted me completely. I notice Jack was now back at his sit from before, he looked me up seriousness over his features before looking back at Chris in front of him. Making my way back to Yoongi a sat over his lap handing him the cup with whisky.

He took it giving me a smirk, eyes still not leaving mine. I couldn’t tell if it wasn’t just because the lights were slightly deeming here or if it was just him but, he just looked at me completely different now. I’ve seen those eyes before, the same eyes looked at me last night when he brought to his house after I shoot a police detective for him. The same eyes who so desperately looking into mine when he held a knife over my neck.

He drank the whole liquid on the cup still never breaking eye contact, giving me the now empty cup I put it over the table in the middle.

- you haven’t been much faithful Chris…. - yoongi said, looking back at Chris who still held his bloody face - you should’ve known better Chris then to try anything against me, after all you know who I am.

At that the men fell silent, frozen completely under Yoongis hard gaze. He was holding a napkin over the cut a big blood stain covered the white fabric.

The Chris guy was indeed working with that Jun woo behind Yoongis back, I don’t know what they had up gains him but it didn’t took longer for Yoongi to find out their dirty tricks. I’ve always knew Agust d was always one step ahead of all his enemies and who ever tried to confront him he would cut them off immediately no second chances, every one at the station always talked about his ruthless actions against those who tried.

The more I thought about this guy trying something against Yoongi the more I questioned if that drug on his cup was really just ecstasy, for all I know he could be lying in that moment just to save his own ass.

I looked over the table where I threw the whisky on his cup, a few cubes of ice still melting there as well as the pill.

- you’re lucky she only cut half your face… - yoongi chuckled - I would’ve cut your head off.

- I’m sorry Agust D - the guy said, eyes locked on the floor - it won’t happen again.

- no… it won’t. - Yoongi said - now if you excuse me… I have some business to take care of.

I got from his lap as he stood up behind me, hand holding my hip as Yoongi guided me to the way out. Jack fallowed behind us as well as some of the bodyguards from before.

We made our way through the people around the second floor, towards the stairs for the third floor I thought he sensed Jack there to end the job why would we go there again? Unless he was the one who wanted to end it, maybe he just some information from the guy I doubt he would kill him before getting anything from him.

I turned to Yoongi.

- sorry for your drink - I tell him, to which he gave me a smirk eyes locked with mine.

- why? You were only protecting me, right? - he said, I only nodded making him lean over my ear - besides a love when my woman knows how to use a knife…

I gulped down looking ahead of me instead, we walked past the stairs to the third floor making our way to the room 226.

Yoongi had me beside him the entire way to the room, once we got there one of his body guards were standing in front of the door. He opened the door as soon as he saw us walinking there and Yoongi entered before me.

The lights of the room were all turned on and soon I’m meet with the guy Han seo or Jun woo tied up on a chair, hands behind his back and a few bruises over his face that it wasn’t my doing for sure. On the other side I notice Jimin was still there, he looked at me then Yoongi giving him a bow, yoongi nooded to him making his way to the man tied up.

I decided to stand closer to Jimin, my only mission was to bring Yoongi to the guy Han seo. So I just stood there watching them.

- Jun woo… - Yoongi mocked his name, tilting his head to the side looking the guy up and down - I expected a lot from you, you really thought that hiding in here was a good idea?

- please Agust this is only a misunderstanding…. I - before he could finish his Jack gave him a punch in the jaw.

- He didn’t finish - Jack state as the guy on the chair spilled more blood on the floor.

One of the body guards pulled a chair in front of the guy, Yoongi took the seat there as Jack handed a big knife to him, it seemed to be a hunting knife.

I bite down my bottom lip, he’ll torture him.

- I’ve been informed you have been leaking information about my business to the police, - Yoongi began, playing around with the knife in his hand like the most beautiful toy he had - we almost got caught last night due to your…. big mouth Han seo.

Yoongi chuckled mentioning his fake name, eyes locked with the knife in hands as he moved it around his fingers.

The guy in front of him scoffed, yoongi had a weird smile on his face as he looked up from the knife to the men in front of him. I’ve never seen him like that, completely out of it like a beast. The Agust d everyone feared was right there, ready to take down someone.

- you mean to tell me the Agust d almost went down last night? - he looked up to the ceiling, a broken laugh leaving his lips but he stopped as more blood came form his throat. - if I knew I’d end up like this… maybe I should’ve exposed your business with at Busan. That Namjoon guy was quicker then I thought.

At the mention of Namjoon my eyes instantly went to the guy. So that’s how he managed to get the information, he’s the one Namjoon mentioned to me before that’s how he was able to set the trap for Yoongi last night. No wonder he didn’t wanted to wait before coming here and get him himself, the guy could leave even more info about him to Namjoon at any moment who knows what he might already have leaked to him, the only thing that still didn’t made sense to me was why would he be so stupid to even try to betray Yoongi like that? Nothing ever seemed to pass by Yoongi that he didn’t already know so why even bother to try?

I was sure that even if I didn’t have appeared last night and shoot that guy, he would still managed to find a way out of that Yoongi wasn’t alone that night he had Jack, who seemed way to calm for someone who knew that was a trap. I was the one going out of my own way and making a scene.

- I’ll die anyway tonight, you must be wanting to know what I told them - he chuckled - find out by yourself Agust d.

There was a cold feeling lingering around the room, a smoke invisible but very present. What ever that guy have against Yoongi he already shared with Namjoon. Things can only get more messy from now, Namjoon will never stop until he gets Agust d head in a silver tray.

My eyes darted to Jack, he had a clenched jaw as he stared at the man tied up. Hand rest over the pistol on his back ready to end him for his boss if needed, the smoke lingering around was ruthless death was definitely around here now.

Yoongi sat there expressionless although, I didn’t know if he was pissed at all of this or already had everything figured it out. The mention of a that S guy certenly brought some reactions, the more time I spend with in here the more mysterious people I find out who are participating in this game, Yoongi didn’t seemed to like the mention of that supposed business he had in Busan made him look even more harsh a stone cold gaze in his eyes that burned over the guy in front of him, I notice how Jimin and Jack shared a look in that moment Busan was mentioned. So Jimin is more involved with Yoongi then I tought if he knows such thing, it made me even more curious.

- tell me Agust… was your new bodyguard who saved your ass last night? - Han seo leaned closer to Yoongi as he said that, a smile filled with secrets as he looked at Yoongi before turning to me - the cop Namjoon told me about you.

At that I unconsciously took a step closer immediately being held back by Jimin, what in the world was Namjoon blabbing about me to that guy?

- he’s up your ass pretty lady - he said leaning back against the chair - I wonder what he’ll do to you once he finds out about your late night job with his enemy.

Jack once again gave him another punch in the jaw making the guy spat more blood on the floor.

- well I didn’t come here to chat - Yoongi said, getting up from the chair - I don’t need to find anything out anyways, I know everything already.

Even his movements were enough to send chills down my whole body, every cell on my skin knew what was going to unfold right now but still, I could believe even now right under my eyes as he carefully walked over to the men tied up.

Why did I have to come here too?

- of course you do… - Han seo said, coughing more blood as he turned back to me - at least I’ll die looking at a beautiful woman.

+++

In a second Yoongi flashed the knife at the men’s right eye, a gasp leaving my lips as I watched him grabbing the man’s jaw who screamed in pain, Yoongi took the knife out of his eye making more blood splash everywhere at the motion. The man screamed out once again from the pain as Yoongin didn’t stop there and flashed the knife at the men again.

I turned back not being able to look at it any longer, I knew what would happen next but I just couldn’t look at it. The sound the men was making were horrible as well as the strong smell of iron filling the entire room, it didn’t stop.

I felt two hands closed over my body and immediately froze on the spot but soon calmed down once I notice it was Jimin who held me against his chest, not to look at the torture.

I could still hear the sound of the men’s groaning in pain, as well as the knife slicing against him again and again. Yoongis hard breathing as he kept going non stop, I tried to cover my ears and block the noise but nothing helped he just kept screaming until no sound was heard anymore only the blade falling on the floor echoing through the room.

+++

- you two know what to do - was Jack who said the order.

After that Jimin held me against him more tightly as he made his way out of the room with me, I didn’t move an inch away from him until I could finally heard the music form the second floor and and my lungs were filled with the smell of alcohol and cigarettes, slowly I leaned back from Jimin as my vision was finally meet with the long dark corridor of the third floor.

My stomach kept doing flips, the sandwich I had earlier was trying to come out the disgusting smell of blood still all over my nostrils.

I embraced Jimin tighter my only attempt into sinking into his Chanel perfume, trying my best to forget that disgusting smell of iron.

- let’s go seems like you need a drink - Jimin said over my ear. I only nooded against him.

With that he walked me out of the thrid floor and I kept myself glued to his body, I needed anything to get out of that murder scene.

Jimin brought me back to the bar we were sat before, I sat over the bar stool as he stood there beside me asking for a drink to the bartender who immediately got his order and began to make the drink.

In that moment I simply couldn’t make any thoughts, my mind felt completely blank. Suddenly a wave of cold air hitting my entire body making me hug myself in search of warmth, i knew exactly what was going to happens yet I couldn’t control my feelings about it.

This was his world. This is Yoongis world. I definitely was not ready for it.

- will you be okay? - Jimin said, pushing my hair behind my ear - you look a little pale.

- I don’t like seeing blood… - I tell him, still feeling my stomach ache.

- oh, then you’re in the wrong place - he said, eyes shining under the blue and purple lights over our heads a small smile making way over his lips.

He’s right.

I’m at the wrong place. I should’ve been at home now, making dinner for me and my brother, cleaning my clothes to work tomorrow at the station. Setting up my alarm for 5am. Not here.

Not at his world but mine but I have up that world the day I decided to take him down and this is what happens to any one who ties that.

At least it wasn’t me in that chair. I tried with every cell in my body to think that guy deserved that, he was just a criminal after all I shouldn’t feel bad about that. It was all bound to happen since he choose to join hands with the police.

I just wanted to forget everything, like the coward I was whenever things got dirty.

Looking up to find Jimins dark eyes shining under those colorful lights, I wondered what in the hell was going on his mind when he let me inside that night.

- the first time I came here… - I began - why did you help me get inside? I’m sure you wouldn’t let just anyone in knowing how important the people here are.

- to be honest… - he said - I thought you looked hot, riding that motorcycle and if you happened to be trouble I would just… you know.

- oh… of course - I cleared my throat - so you liked me because I ride?

- no… - he chuckled - gosh do you really not know how sexy you look? After I saw tonight I don’t think I can’t just forget you yn. You’re my type.

If nothing had happened just a few minutes ago, I would have believed him. Deep down I know he was just trying to make me forget about what just happened, filling me with compliments and smiling at me like nothing else matter.

- your type…

- I mean I would try to kill you if turned out to be trouble that night - he said, fingers brushing my cheek softly - but I was sure I would be the one in trouble if I did so that’s what I like that about you.

- well I’m a…- I immediately stopped myself realizing I almost told him I was a police intern, sighting I corrected my self quickly - I’m in the Agust D mafia.

- you’re not one of them y/n - Jimin said, his hand resting over mine the smile quickly fading from his lips replaced by a look a knew very well - you should leave this before is too late, save yourself y/n you weren’t made for this world.

My eyes were burning as I looked into his, that face I knew so well was the same I saw on peoples faces at after my parents death, in that exact second I realized what he meant I felt that chill run down my spine the moment his eyes locked with mine, he knew. He knew everything about me being a police intern an yet still helped me.

- here is your drink - the bartender interrupted.

I didn’t think twice before getting the cup with a red liquid, drinking it all in one gulp. I felt like I could cry at any moment and I didn’t wanted that to happen. How weak of me. This is what I wanted my whole life, to be taken serious and get the real job done.

Now that I’m watching everything from so close, i couldn’t help but feel this overwhelming anguish over me, I couldn’t let myself go down so easily though. I can’t back down anyways, I had so much to lose if I did so not matter what anyone says I’m the only one who can do this, it doesn’t matter what Namjoon thinks about me. I won’t let Jack kill me or my brother, I’ll pay for his debt with my dirty work. Whatever happens in the future I’ll deal with it when it comes.

I felt so tired of people getting in the way of my choices, I’m the one who made this mess. I’m done trying to come clean with all this situation, I have a reason for this and my choices were not made recklessly.

The perception I needed from all of this finally seemed to make sense to me.

- I can’t leave, I have to pay a debit - I tell him, feeling bitter as I tried to smile at him.

Turning my eyes away from his to the now empty cup in my hand, the taste of alcohol burning my throat. I heard him sight before he turned me to look at him again.

- don’t let your guard down then y/n - he said, letting go of my hand. I notice his eyes looked at something behind me. - your boss is here.

I didn’t look behind to know he meant Yoongi but, I didn’t dare to look at him I could bearly move an inch without thinking about what he just did, I still couldn’t make out what to even think about it. Before I could even get down from the stool he was right there beside me, one hand quickly sliding over my back just like he did before. Turning slightly towards him o notice he changed clothes too he didn’t wore the white shirt anymore but a black one, no sign of blood on him nothing he was all clean again, smelling he’s usual minty perfume.

He looked up at Jimin giving him a nod witch Jimin replied with the same action before making his way out, I feel Yoongi sliding his fingers over my chin to look up at him.

Tracing every centimeter of his features with my eyes, searching for any signs of a murder on him I find none. Just the usual scar face I was used too, the smirk dancing over his lips like always he caressed my cheek before holding me against him as we walk out of there, making our way to the first floor.

- you’re friend came here before us - he suddenly mentioned.

Friend?

- what do you mean? - I asked him.

- the detective… Was it Namjoon his name? - as the words left his lips my body went immediately cold.

Namjoon were here? How could he? It just didn’t make any sense unless he used Han seo to get in here I couldn’t think of any way.

- that guy you…. - I paused immediately, still feeling uncomfortable at the thought - Han seo was the one giving info to the police?

- yes, but he didn’t do it alone - he said as we walked to the exit of the building - he was simply a pawn being used to get to me by someone else.

- that Chris guy?

- you’re getting the hang of it already… - he praised, smirk over his lips as he held me by the side closer.

I only gulped down. Strangely enough being complimented by Yoongi always felt like a tease as he always made it sound like that, an air of “oh so are you really?” Always coming from him deep down.

A dark cloud seemed to close around us both as we exit the building.

- how far will you go to pay for your brothers debt? - he asked over my ear, his voice sounding much deeper now.

I felt my whole body tremble, warning signs shooting from every direction as his words sink down on my mind.

We soon walked out of the building, the cold air hitting me in the face was like a bucket of water waking me up completely form my fuzzy mind.

His offering felt uncanny, something seemed to have hanged in his demeanor as he spilled the words. Why would he say that now out of every moment?

- whatever it takes to save him - I tell him, already regretting my honesty - name your price.

Holding my chin up he urned my face to the side guiding my eyes on the target standing ahead us, I spotted the figure of the Chris guy from earlier and he seemed to be talking with someone on the phone with a few bodyguards around him as one held the door for a black Mercedes opened for him.

No wonder Yoongi would want that guy out too, it was clear that men was working against Yoongi and from what i could tell hes the one who’s been helping Namjoon to get him. He must think that by working with him hell be able to take Yoongi down and claim his empire all to himself.

I turned back to yoongi his eyes held a cold light over them as he locked them over mine his signature smirk already forming over his lips like usual, the scar looked seemed more darker this time. Something about him had changed completely ever since we step foot in Paradise tonight and I wondered if he had this all planed even fore we leave the mansion.

- kill him and your brother will be free.

I felt all the air from my lungs leave me completely, feeling helpless under his eyes. He had this all set up from the beginning, I could tell just by the look in his eyes. This was the test he had set up for me not finding Han seo but actually killing Chris, the real culprit. The one behind Namjoons entrance at Paradise and leak of informations about Agust d.

The price for my brothers freedom was just a few feet away from me.

I didn’t know when it came to this, when everything turned so fuzzy like a dream. When my hand slided over Yoongis shoulder towards his hip we’re I knew from the beginning he had his silver pistol, when my fingers closed around the cold metal as we walked out of Paradise. When I stoped in front of the black Mercedes, my mind was completely clouded like my body wasn’t mine anymore.

The blonde, Chris turned back to us eyes looking over at Yoongi behind me in desperation as he soon realized what situation he was in, He immediately turned the phone call off. Looking at the man in front of me up and down, balancing my options. If he was gone then my brother will be free.

I tried my best to think he was the bad guy. He is a criminal. He hurts people. So why is so hard to do this? His life does not worth more then my brothers.

Not thinking more I aimed at him shooting at his leg, watching as he immediately fell into his knees. A painful groan leaving his mouth as he looked up in fear. Screaming in pain his body guards did nothing as more of a Yoongis men closed around us there.

The sudden sound grabbed the attention of the people outside, some gasps feeling the air as more and more people watched us from afar.

- Agust please! Why are you doing this! - he groaned out, holding his leg were i just shoot him.

Some shocked breaths were heard in the back as well as steps behind me, I didn’t need to look to know it was him. A feeling of deja vu suddenly creeping into my body as a shiver as well with the cold wind blowing over my face.

- you seemed to have forgotten why you shouldn’t mess with me - Yoongi said, walking closer until he was right beside me.

He chuckled before holding the pistol against my hand, his body completely pressed over mine one hand losing around my waist I felt his cold breath hitting my cheeks as he slowly closed his finger over the trigger.

- who ever messes with Agust d…. - he said, turning slightly towards my face I looked up at him the smirk still dancing over his features. I could see flames in his eyes as he spoke the last words - will die…

Bang.

I didn’t look.

He held my hand firmly with the pistol. Eyes now locked with mine.

Bang.

Bang.

[…]

Notes; Things should end how hey started right? I’m so sorry guys it took me so long to updated the story for you all, ive been working my ass off to get it perfectly so you guys can have a great time enjoying this chapter. I would also like to inform that it will take a while until the next chapter of Set Met Free since ill be focusing on Crazy Over you until is finish. Ill try me best to get it done soon. Love you all, thank yo for all your support always. THIS IS NOT A GOODBYE LOLOL. I’m staying until i finish them all!!

Tag list; @catlove83 @passionandsuga @agustdwifey @crystallizedtime @cuntessaiii @rosquilleta @nochook @fatmaortiz @wobblewobble822 @mygdday @sazsazsaz @coralmusicblaze @missmin @whipwhoops @glosstwn @i-have-no-life-charlie @kooslilhoe @tarahardcore @manuosorio @thvlover @4ukiyo4 @missroro @btspurplesky @i-am-invisible-for-you @celticcountrygal @fairywriter-oracle @m4gg13-g @unadulteratedlyunique @anaspectoflife @younhakim29 @slinekyu @nochookiee @strxwbloody @yoongislatinagff @pandafuriosa60 @kimsonlyluv @be0mluver @sukonsukuna @amariemoore @starrlo0ver @effielumiere @lovelgirl22 @baechugff @sassyfoxunknown @poochieshooky @seonghwaexile @oldymoody @xyahrinx

[dysfunctionalupsidedown]

An Analysis Of "STurn": My Turn

Hello, everyone! This is my first real post/analysis of anything Stranger Things related, so please keep that in mind while reading. I'm sure there are quite a few analyses about this playlist already (I'm definitely late to the party,) but I still wanted to add my two cents.

Feel free to let me know if any information I've provided is incorrect. My main source is Genius.com, which isn't at all the most reliable; even still, it'll help to give a clearer picture of each track's meaning and how the general public (which includes Finn) interprets them. I'm attempting to go by what I think Finn's intentions were.

Also, don't forget that this analysis was done under the assumption that the "STurn" playlist is a somewhat play-by-play outline of how specifically Mike Wheeler's S5 arcs might happen. The playlist could be entirely unrelated to ST5. It could be related to all the characters and arcs in ST5. It could be out of order, or based on vibes -- We really have no way of knowing until the full season comes out.

Finally, I tried my best to keep the analysis somewhat objective and reasonable, and I hope I've at least partly succeeded. This is all in good fun, in the end. Now that I've finished housekeeping, please enjoy my thoughts and feel free to chime in with your ideas in the comments! I'm always open to changing my perspective.

1. Ballad of the Texas King

Let's begin! This song starts with the lyrics, "No one saw / Nothing at all, no law was there to fight / All dressed down / Walkin' out in the California night". I believe this is a more surface-level vibe-setting song, considering where Mike ended in S4. It may also imply that the start of S5 begins where S4 left off. A lot of car imagery is also present throughout, which was a big part of Mike's S4 journey.

There are ideas of being separated as well, with lyrics like "My heart won't beat / 'Til we meet again together". This may allude to Mike's feelings towards the end of S4, having been separated from Hawkins/his family.

2. What You're Doing - Remastered 2009

Genius.com claims this song was written about Paul McCartney's then-rocky relationship at the time. The lyrics make this very clear, so there's really no alternate angle from which I can read. Let me know in the comments if you interpreted it differently.

In specific, the lyrics "You got me running / And there's no fun in it / Why should it be so much to ask of you / What you're doing to me?", "Please stop your lying / You got me crying, girl", and "I've been waiting here for you / Wondering what you're gonna do / And should you need a love that's true / It's me" really intrigue me. This could refer to Mike's relationship.

The song suggests that the partner may be withdrawing in multiple ways, with the singer grieving over it and attempting to prove their love. El may be starting to distance herself, and Mike could be struggling with it. At the end of S4, El was understandably focused on her failure, to the point where she hadn't really spoken to Mike in the days following it.

I don't think it would be surprising if everything was too much and she ends up pushing herself away from him. I wouldn't say it's implying a break-up, but maybe distancing issues.

3. After The Earthquake

Again, it's pretty surface-level in the beginning. There was a devastating earthquake in-universe, which supports the theory that "STurn" connects to ST5 in some way. The song tells a story, though, and I recommend looking up it's inspiration.

Despite the choice seeming surface-level at first, After The Earthquake may be implying more for Mike in ST5. Genius.com's contributors interpret the song's narrative as, "[Molly Rankin applying the] concept of post-catastrophe clarity to a couple that got into a major disagreement before one of them falls into a coma from a car crash... In a metaphorical sense, [the song] could describe a more mild situation in which Rankin must put their conflict on hold because something more important turns up." I don't think it's too far-fetched to say that Finn picked up on this. The idea of a disagreeing couple and coma is also prevalent in ST, but like I said in the beginning, I'm going to try to connect these songs to Mike Wheeler specifically.

Although this may be me reading too deeply into it, the metaphorical meaning of the track pairs pretty well with the implications of What You're Doing. It also fits in well narratively, considering that more important things are happening aside from the drama -- the earthquake being one of them. Mike could be putting all of his current issues (internal-conflict-related, relationship, or otherwise) on hold for the moment. He continues to struggle with suppressing his problems later on in the playlist, as well.

4. Promises I've Made

This song is about mourning a lost or ex-lover. The opening lyrics, "Ever since you have gone, the days don't seem so bright / And I wish I could forget you but I can't / Ever since you have gone, I haven't felt quite right / And I promised I'd forget all that you meant" address this quite directly.

At this point, it's possible that Mike has either been broken up with or the pair have gone their separate ways for some reason. It wouldn't be too crazy to say something like that will occur and he'll grieve it, keeping in mind that one of Mike's main fears is losing El. I just don't know why they'd continue to make it the subject of conflict in S5 (unless it hasn't been fully resolved yet.)

Physical distance between the two also makes sense when considering that Mike is, supposedly, teaming up with other characters next season. Personally, I'm leaning slightly more towards a break-up because of what the previous songs have set up, but, ultimately, it's up to interpretation. It's possible they've just been physically distanced while in a bad spot.

5. Angst In My Pants

This song is about a person attempting to be someone they're not, suppressing who they really are, and it ultimately leading to dissatisfaction. The lyrics, "You can dress nautical / Learn to tie knots / Take lots of Dramamine / Out on your yacht" describe a faux lifestyle one lives that only serves to hurt them in the end: The idea of putting on a self-harming persona. This could be what Mike is going through in S5, and his teased wardrobe change from S4 supports this.

The lyrics, "I hope it doesn't show / It'll go away / It's just a passing phase / It'll go away" and, "I hope it doesn't show / It'll go 'way / Give it a hundred years / It won't go 'way" are particularly fascinating and can have multiple interpretations.

For one, it could be Mike trying to hide his real personality following Eddie's death and the collective panic by acting out a more "normal" and "idealized" life -- painfully repressing his true self in the process. This is supported by the lyrics I first discussed. Hiding and embracing differences is a theme in Stranger Things, and I wouldn't be surprised if this is where they take Mike in S5.

Another interpretation involves the previous lyrics, as well as, "But when you think you made it disappear / It comes again, 'Hello, I'm here'". This sounds more like someone trying and failing to suppress a thought. Coupled with "It's just a passing phase", it appears to be a feeling or belief instead of someone's true personality, although I do believe that's a big part of it, too.

Whatever it may be, Mike is definitely struggling with something at this point. He's pushing it down, hiding it, and hoping "..it doesn't show" and that "It'll go away".

6. The Better Side - Audiotree Live Version

Half way through! This one gave me more of a challenge because there aren't any written lyrics to analyze. From what I can gather, the track is about a person yearning for someone who is a better fit(?) The lyrics that best support this interpretation are, "You're on the better side / You're always the better one for me" and "Don't make me do the falling when I'm drinking of you". Again, if you have any alternate interpretations, please let me know. I'd like to take all ideas into account.

The final lyrics are interesting, "And you're all that I need / I'm not gonna miss you anymore". This can be read as the narrator longing to accept a person into their life and bring them closer. I'm especially interested in the final line because it implies there was something to miss, as if an emotional rift or gap was there.

Mike has come to a realization about something, as shown in Angst In My Pants, and it might partly be about a new thought he's trying to push down, "It'll go away". It's possible the "thought" is about newly developing feelings he isn't ready to accept(?) I don't want to say for certain, though. Nonetheless, it seems like he recognizes this person's importance and "better fit" for him, despite trying to repress it. A fairly surface-level read, but it's the only conclusion I'm able to come to.

Alternatively, it might be about El. The distance apart could be what gets him to solidify how he feels about her. However, Angst In My Pants and multiple songs establishing a separation precede The Better Side. The track is about a better option, as well. Those facts alone make me think of this interpretation as unlikely, so it's not one I personally hold.

7. Don't Ask Me to Explain

Don't Ask Me to Explain is about two people who are afraid to confess their true feelings to one another, so instead they hide them; with one of the two seemingly more uncertain. It's also, from what I've researched, supposedly about two people of the same gender. There's a possibility that this is irrelevant to the track's purpose in the playlist, but I kept it in mind considering the other songs and my personal interpretation. It's also important to note that these "true feelings" could be about a multitude of things.

The lyrics, "How will I ever know you enough to love you / If you're hiding who you are?", "How am I supposed to let it show / When I don't even know?", and, "Besides, I don't want to be the one who's coming out first / I'd really like to but I'm just too shy" support this reading.

I interpreted the last line, "It's so easy to laugh to myself / And pretend that I could love you but I can't" in two different ways. Either it's the narrator doubting their feelings for someone else, or it's the narrator recognizing that they can't let themselves embrace their love for someone, for one reason or another.

As for Mike, his progression makes the most sense to me in the following interpretation. There are multiple and, again, please let me know your ideas in the comments. I narrowed it down to just the one so I don't start nit-picking.

Mike went from a realization, "It's just a passing phase / It'll go away" (Angst In My Pants) to a sort of acceptance, "You're always the better one for me" (The Better Side) to struggling to admit it out loud, "How am I supposed to let it show / When I don't even know?"

An LGBTQ+ or "new love interest" interpretation is what I'm able to gather from this. It could describe Mike falling for 'someone' and not knowing how to be open about it due to fear and doubt; with the other person feeling the same way. It may be a surface-level reading, and I'm sure there are several other ways to interpret the track, but that's what I've been able to conclude thus far.

8. What Do You Want Me To Do?

This one might be the most difficult for me to figure out, but I'm going to try.

The song and the lyrics, "You walked out, took your chance / You turned your back on our romance / You said you found somebody new / You said the change'd do you good" and "You never even gave me a thought / You figured that would be all right / I nevеr had a chance to persuade you / You nеver let me put up a fight" remind me a lot of What You're Doing.

One way to look at it is that it might have the same purpose as What You're Doing -- adding a sort of angsty frustration vibe. I don't know if it would be used to set up a "come crawling back" moment because I don't think that would make sense (especially in Stranger Things), but it's a random possibility I'm throwing out there.

Alternatively, the 'person' that Mike has feelings for could have rejected him for someone else(?) Again, I don't think this would make much narrative sense in Stranger Things, but we don't know what the next season's going to look like.

I'm personally reading it as the former because there are other songs in the playlist used to set the tone. Keeping What You're Doing and Promises I've Made in mind, an additional break-up song is on theme. There's still the possibility of another conflict, though. If anyone else has different thoughts on what the song could be implying, I'd appreciate the input.

9. Substitute - Live

This track is about an idealized version of someone being put in place of their true self. The narrator describes a scenario in which their partner sees a version of them, "I'm a substitute for another guy / I look pretty tall but my heels are high / The simple things you see are all complicated / I look bloody young, but I'm just back-dated, yeah", that is unrealistic and put on, as seen in the lyrics "Substitute your lies for fact / I see right through your plastic mac / I look all white, but my dad was black / My fine-looking suit is really made out of sack" The couple also seem to be having issues with this, or in general, that they're not addressing, "It's a genuine problem, you won't try / To work it out at all, just pass it by, pass it by"

The concept of a guise applies well to Mike, as referenced in Angst In My Pants. A recurring theme of hiding oneself really makes me think Mike is going to completely abandon his interests for a different lifestyle. I believe Finn has also mentioned that Mike wants to be as "normal" as possible, so I can't wait to see where they take that idea. It could also be him realizing how he's been acting, and admitting that this "romanticized" version isn't true to him. I have hope that Mike will eventually learn to embrace his differences and what he enjoys.

While this part is a bit nit-picky, I feel it's fun to mention that the song was inspired by a lyric in The Tracks of My Tears by Smokey Robinson; the lyric being, "Although she may be cute / She's just a substitute". The line following this (which is also referenced in Substitute's Genius.com entry) is, "Because you're the permanent one". Funnily enough, these lyrics also fit into the narrative the playlist is laying out. They remind me a lot of what The Better Side represents.

Out of context, the lines from The Tracks of My Tears may imply that someone is either using another person as a substitute for an ex, or that someone is realizing they've been using their previous partner as a substitute for someone better. Both routes have the potential to happen in ST5. Although, I don't know if the idea of a literal substitute fits with what The Who was going for. The Tracks of My Tears is also not on "STurn", so take this part as a fun fact with a grain of salt on the side.

At the end of the day, we don't know Finn's motivation for adding Substitute, so this is what we'll have to go off of for now. I feel as though the former interpretation, a less literal "substitute," holds the most merit considering the theme of personas.

10. The Rebel Kind

Like The Better Side, I couldn't find any lyrics, so I'm doing it by ear. Though, I'm happy to say that this song is about a desire to embrace differences and rebellion. "We'll be free to run with the rebel kind" and "It's not easy, but I don't mind / I just want to run with the rebel kind" establish that. The track appears to tie into Mike's insecurity struggles throughout the playlist.

The lyric "They call us the rebel kind" hints to the panic brewing at the end of S4. Mike might start to embrace and stand behind his true self at whatever point this is in the season. The line following, "But they don't understand / The things a man must do to prove that he's a man", can be taken in different ways depending on how the lyrics are read.

It could be the narrator's struggle to keep up with societal norms before finally giving in to their truth instead of trying to conform, read as "they call us rebels but don't get how hard it is to for us to keep up." On the other hand, it could be the narrator commenting on how society doesn't understand people like them, and, by embracing their true self, it proves more about who they are than conforming ever would; read as, "you think we're the rebellious ones, but you don't understand that we're more self-secure and strong than you'll ever be."

I can see both of these interpretations working for Mike and his connection to the Party. The progression of insecurity in Angst In My Pants and potential realization of this guise in Substitute is wrapped up by Mike's self-acceptance here. I really hope this is how it plays out in S5.

11. Block Rockin' Beats

There's not much to analyze because this track has one repeated line of lyrics, but it's definitely here to set a tone. The song may have a similar vibe-setting purpose as What Do You Want Me To Do? and Ballad of the Texas King. That's just my theory, though. (A ST5 theoryyy!)

Perhaps this is a climax of sorts where the cast fight the "big bad." The music's tone is intense and sort of aggressive. It's definitely a fun addition to the playlist, whatever the song's purpose in it may be.

12. Just What I Needed

Finally, we have Just What I Needed. I read this song in two different ways.

The first way I interpreted it was as a love song about the narrator not caring about who this person is, and realizing they need them in spite of it all. The lyrics, "It's not the perfume that you wear / It's not the ribbons in your hair / And I don't mind you comin' here / And wastin' all my time", "Cause when you're standin' oh so near / I kinda lose my mind, yeah", and "I needed someone to bleed / Yeah, yeah, so bleed me" support this.

The second possible reading is that the narrator realizes they were/are in a codependent relationship and they still love the person. The lyrics, "I guess you're just what I needed / I needed someone to feed / I guess you're just what I needed / I needed someone to bleed" and "I don't mind you hangin' out / And talkin' in your sleep / It doesn't matter where you've been / As long as it was deep, yeah", could be read as more of a "you're what I needed at the time, but I still love you and want you in my life." With this reading, it's unclear whether or not the love is romantic or platonic. Maybe I'm looking too far into it, but this is what some Genius.com contributors brought up, and it would feel wrong to not include this understanding of the song.

I'm just assuming, since The Rebel Kind seemed to tie up Mike's self-security problem, that this track is supposed to imply a resolution with his romantic issues. Under that impression, there are a few ways we can look at it.

It could be an acceptance for who he has feelings for. He went from mourning a loss in Promises I've Made, noticing something and hoping it goes away in Angst In My Pants, potentially coming to terms with the fact that this person is his "better" choice in The Better Side, wanting to admit a truth but feeling doubtful in Don't Ask Me to Explain, comprehending that he's able to embrace his authentic self in The Rebel Kind, to now admitting, possibly out loud, that this person was "just what [he] needed". That could be far-fetched, but it's just what I picked up on throughout the playlist.

However, it may also pertain to his self-identity struggle that's hinted at throughout (can you tell that I love this part of Mike?) while also tying into his romance issues. He went through a difficult separation with someone in What You're Doing and Promises I've Made, put on a persona and suppressed his true self in Angst In My Pants, realized he couldn't keep it going and needed to address it in Substitute, embraced himself in The Rebel Kind, and now recognizes that the relationship may have been codependent and holding him back from fully dropping the facade: "I guess you're just what I needed" -- in the moment. I don't know if that's too in-depth of a read, but it's a possibility.

While not relevant to the playlist in it's context, it's fun to bring up the fact that Just What I Needed was apparently also the final track listed on the 'official' "Will's Castle Byers Classics" playlist created by Spotify. It's not available anymore, so I can't really say it as a fact. Although, recreations of the playlist have been made long before "STurn" was a thing, and the song was added as the last track as far back as 2018. I suppose that's proof enough that it was at least on the playlist.

Finn listing it as the final track may be a reference to "Will's Castle Byers Classics", but it's also likely that there's no association. That's why I gave the song an equal amount of analysis instead of writing it off as a reference. As to how canon those playlists are, I don't think it particularly matters. It's true that Finn could've seen Just What I Needed in the Will playlist and put it on "STurn", thinking of it as a fun easter egg. There could or could not be implications for that and I'd be remiss to ignore it. I don't know if this rings true for any of the other songs on "STurn" as well -- if they're connected to any other character playlists. Feel free to let me know if they are!

TL;DR

This was really hefty post, and I apologize for that, so here's a summary/recap of what I think S5 may have in store for Mike Wheeler.

Summary:

The season likely starts off at the end of S4, with us seeing Mike react to everything that's happened in Hawkins and reuniting with his family. Tension or unresolved conflicts may be arising in his relationship(s) as well, but he puts it aside to focus on the more important tasks at hand. Either his relationship is put aside with this, or there's an eventual separation that occurs, and he mourns it. After, he tries to maintain normalcy and puts on a guise to appease others. During this time, he may start to have a realization about something that he attempts to repress. He eventually comes to terms with it, though, recognizing that there's someone (maybe something?) better for him. He wants to admit to these true feelings, but he'll struggle with hiding, doubting, and fearing them; thinking he can't allow himself to fully love this person or, at least, admit to whatever feelings or "truth" he possesses. Mike will most likely continue to struggle with mixed feelings and hiding his true personality after this, eventually admitting to not being fully authentic. He'll then accept his true self for what it is. This will lead into a climax, where the main conflict of the show will be resolved. Finally, he'll accept and admit his true feelings, realizing that all he needed to do in the end was be entirely honest with (and about) himself.

In Conclusion

I really want this to be where they take Mike in ST5. It would be such a satisfying thing to watch, especially with how he's acted the past two seasons. I think he deserves to have a self-love/acceptance arc because the show has made it clear he's insecure and inauthentic.

Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know your thoughts and interpretations in the comments, as well as if there's anything you think I should add/fix. I'd love to hear what others have to say about "STurn" and it's connections to ST :)!

[yuseirra]

I really enjoy drawing them as gods! :) I'll keep drawing this version too while I can (and even after things clear up~)

I jotted about these guys earlier AGAIN and it's so funny, I'll put it in the read more

(was written in another language, translated in bulk by chatgpt~)

I set up my tablet to draw all weekend and started listening to Fatal again.

Seriously, this song… it’s just Kamiki, saying, “I can’t live without Ai~~ I want to see Ai so badly… Without her, I’m really going to die, I feel like I’ll die—what am I supposed to do?” That’s exactly what it sounds like.

It’s like Ai is Ame-no-Uzume, and Kamiki is her husband. He’s like a god who lost his wife and went completely insane. I can’t hear it any other way, seriously. If this isn’t the case, I’d be so disappointed! There’s just no other explanation for all the bizarre situations in the story. Every time I hear this song, I feel like I’m losing my mind because of this interpretation…

This isn’t Aqua. Right now, Aqua let go of his wish for Ai and is sinking deeper as he saves Ruby. No, it’s Kamiki who’s crying about not being able to live without Ai, wanting to see her that badly. What are we supposed to do with him? Why does he love Ai this much? (To be fair, the backstory is there. Watching his character unfold, I thought, "Yeah, it makes sense he’d fall for Ai.” Even before the song and Chapter 154 came out, I was certain of it.) He’s the only character who’d have such a “lack of Ai.” He lost Ai, and now he’s like, “My destiny is to get her back!” I’m sure that’s what’s driving him. He studied science in college, built a company, and went around doing all these things while telling himself, “It’s my fault, my fault,” and witnessing people dying. Seriously… what is this?

And his eyes—I feel they were originally golden, but it feels like something mixed in because of that black star, which changed the color. His eyes look so murky. I don’t think they were meant to be purple. Every other character has clear eyes, but whenever they show his in the anime, his color is cloudy, almost like something else is mixed in.

The Hoshino family’s eye colors connect to their names, but Kamiki’s name means “light,” so why the sudden purple? It could be, but his eyes look so cloudy, and no other character’s eyes have that quality. He’s not in his right mind… he really seems possessed. And why are the lyrics like this? Why do they have this meaning? If this isn’t revealed, I’m going to seek out the author myself. It’s almost funny. This song is just so strange.

It sounds like constant crying—a song of intense longing, he’s losing his mind. Once again, this isn’t Aqua’s emotional arc. Kamiki’s emotions are ten steps deeper than Aqua’s, maybe even more unhinged. He literally seems unable to live without Ai. But this makes sense if they’re a divine couple; they literally can’t function without each other. They need to be together, which even aligns with the things Kamiki says in the story. He was hers and she was his- What is he, really? He isn’t your average person. He’s genuinely strange. What he does is something that can't just be explained with charisma or “because he’s charming.” No, Ai and Kamiki must have originally been gods.

Honestly, Kamiki must be a god who was deeply devoted to his wife, driven to madness because people killed her. That’s why Aqua was assigned to dunk him into the sea to get him… This storyline would make so much more sense if this is it.

Ai must be crying in heaven if she sees what’s become of her husband. It’s so absurdly tragic. I feel like this direction would make more sense. I mean, what kind of story would it be if Kamiki were just “the bad guy”? We already know he was fundamentally a good person. How could an ordinary person even do all these things? I know the setting is modern, with cell phones, electronics, law enforcement, etc. But honestly, people buying into this guy’s ideals to this degree is baffling. He could only pull this off if he were a god.

Fatal… I’m sure I’ve shared my thoughts on this song countless times, but every time I listen to it, I feel like I’m one step closer to understanding its meaning. This song’s emotions are just so Kamiki. If this is Kamiki, though… well, he must really have loved Ai. He’s struggling so much, and you can really feel what it means to not be able to live without someone. He simply can't bear it. That’s how strong his love is.

At this point, can’t we just let him meet Ai again already? He fell apart because he couldn’t see her, even though he wanted to so badly. Was he really at fault for all of this? Is he actually responsible for Ai’s death? I don’t think so… If Ai had been there, he probably wouldn’t have ended up like this.

We need to find out the real reason Ai died, don’t we? This song has to mean something, right? There has to be a reason this song came out. I wouldn’t have started down this path if I didn’t feel I already knew the answer. If I were the author, I’d never make a character who wants to see Ai so desperately into her killer. Maybe Kamiki has some godly power that became unstable out of his anxiety, causing the chain of events that led to her death, but...

Now that we know Ai truly loved Kamiki, I can’t believe he’d even lay a finger on her. It just doesn’t fit his character or story. His behavior shows he isn’t capable of that. This is the same person who couldn’t even retaliate against people who treated him horribly, even those he cared less about than Ai. He was a kind person.

Looking at Kamiki’s consistent behavior, there’s always this gentleness, almost peacefulness. Even if he’s lost it now, that gentleness seems closer to his true nature. I feel like something forced its way into him and twisted him.

The person Ai loved was probably this part of Kamiki, the gentle exterior. If you look at it, it makes sense why she’d fall for him. He’s fundamentally that kind of person, but something happened to him.

I’m rarely wrong about things like this… There aren’t many chapters left now, so if I’m wrong, I’ll just take it as it comes.

Was Kamiki really the kind of person Aqua could treat that way? Honestly, I wasn’t satisfied watching the interactions between Tsukuyomi and Aqua. It didn’t feel good to watch them connect and talk sympathetically. Plus, if it turns out Ai loved someone who was truly insane, that’s another problem.

If Kamiki really did do horrible things, it would make more sense if they were god-level punishments from a god who went insane. If he were just a regular boy who lost it and became a serial killer… what even is that? That would be so disrespectful to people who have similar backgrounds. For a character like this, I feel like there should be a certain amount of care in how he’s handled. Otherwise, I'd really be upset. I’m sure the author understands that.

Anyway… it feels like the answer’s already in the song. Like the answer’s already been given. There aren’t many chapters left, so I guess we’ll find out soon.

[vviolets444rroses]

dating ethan landry pt3

my HEADCANONS <3 :

SFW only :)

part 1 | part 2

👻; he hates hard liquor. so you’ll just be sitting with him drinking something tropical. i feel like he secretly likes pink whitney, though.

👻; he loves raves💯 he always goes shirtless too. he used to be so self conscious about it, but now he’s chillin.

👻; he likes gorillaz, tyler the creator, deftones, pierce the viel, roar… (what do you think he’d listen to?)

👻; never broken the law once in his life. once when he was little, he accidentally took a push pop and cried when he realized he had it. (guys we’re ignoring the fact that he’s GF 😋)

👻; obsessed with action, sci-fi, and thriller movies. he makes you watch them, even if you’re afraid. you don’t mind because you have him to hold you.

👻; you guys slowly started developing each other’s mannerisms and habits. i.e., you laugh like him and he makes the same weird gestures that you do.

👻; he is always updating a playlist he made for you. he notices that you fall asleep to it when he’s doing homework late at night.

👻; he likes to rub your back while you sleep.

👻; he’s the type to make you soup when you’re sick.

👻; you’re always reminding him where he last had something. he forgets so easily.

👻; you don’t have room on your bed anymore because he buys you so many stuffed animals. you guys named them all.

👻; ^^ he won a lot of them at the fair. he will not stop playing until he wins.

👻; he loves mario kart and literally any fighting game. you can never win against him.

👻; dude… he has to be good at dance central and/or dance dance revolution.

👻; his bed smells like you. he even bought a bottle of your perfume so it never goes away.

👻; whenever you lose something, he buys another one for you. except he doesn’t even tell you. he lets you believe it just showed up.

👻; his favorite holidays include halloween and thanksgiving. one, you can’t fight him on saying halloween isn’t a holiday. two, he just likes to eat at thanksgiving.

👻; ^^ makes you wear a couple costume with him. it’s always something you don’t entirely understand. all these old timey shows that you slept through whenever ethan put it on.

👻; i bet he’s really clumsy. always getting hurt.

👻; he can’t tie a tie for the LIFE of him. he bought the clip ons, so he wouldn’t have to keep bothering you to help him.

👻; he probably slaps your ass after a few reps when you guys work out together. (is this sfw? idk i had to say it though😭)

👻; he def used to wear axe body spray☠️ you made him change it.

👻; now i think he would smell like something woodsy or like the ocean…

👻; when you fall asleep during a movie, he really wants to wake up up, but he doesn’t. he just ignores the fact that you’re asleep and talks quietly to himself as if you’re awake and listening to him😊

👻; he reminds me of these songs…

die for you (remix)

love you more than me

one more love song

i’m running out of ideas so send requests :) all of these are my opinion and just that. so please be nice! like and reblog if you enjoyed 🫶🏼

[avocadorablepirate]

With You

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x gn!reader

Summary: Haunted by the memories of his past, Law seeks solace from his loyal subordinate. And even if their love remains unrequited, they will always be there to provide him with the comfort he needs.

Word Count: 730

Warnings: angst, unrequited love, mentions of death and the loss of family

A/N: I've been craving some Law angst for some unexplainable reason. So, I was feeling inspired by one of my favourite songs, and this is what I came up with.

All you needed was someone there to sit next to But all I needed was you

Law woke up in a cold sweat, his breathing was ragged and he desperately tried to calm his racing heart. Another nightmare. Another image of Corazon's body lying limp on the ground. The sound of gunshots. The harsh contrast of red on white. This recurrent torment plagued his mind with no escape in sight. Yet, despite the familiarity of this dread, he had only found one solution.

He knew he shouldn't, not after your confession. But he was desparate for any semblance of comfort - a touch, a whisper to sooth his troubled mind. All it would take was a couple of words and a flick of his fingers to get what he wanted. From where you sat at the dining table, kept up at night by your own problems, you would be by his bedside in seconds. It was selfish of him, especially when he knew he was partly to blame for your recent insomnia. But you were like a drug he couldn't resist - he was addicted to your presence, despite his denial.

You appeared before him, calm and collected having expected this summoning. Your swollen eyes and puffy cheeks, however, told a different story. You had been crying? A pang of guilt swept over Law.

"Another nightmare captain?" you asked, a sympathetic smile gracing your lips. Law offered no words, just a nod of confirmation.

Your feet instinctively guided you to his bed. Settling against the headboard, you beckoned for him to come closer. Carefully, Law rested his head on your lap, and your hands gently threaded through his hair, easing his tension. For a moment, he found peace in your touch, and let his eyes fall shut as you whispered words of comfort.

His mind however, wandered to the look in your eye - a sadness he dreaded confronting, but knew he couldn't evade. His guilt weighed too heavily.

He hesitated before speaking, his voice barely above a whisper. "Why were you up?"

"Just thinking," you replied softly.

"About?"

"Family."

Lies. He knew there was more to it. Law shifted uncomfortably. This conversation had happened far too many times, and inevitably ended the same way. His gaze drifted to the crumpled sheets of his bed, wishing that they had offered him the solace he craved, then he wouldn't have had to rely on you.

"They might be gone, but they're still by your side," he murmured, his eyes avoiding yours as he sensed you searching his for something.

"Like yours," you said gently, offering him a small, sad smile.

He softly spoke your name, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "You know I can't let myself love again."

"I know...this is just a subordinate helping their captain," you reassured him, though you longed for something more. You understood his walls, knowing he would never allow anyone, including himself, to break through them. You understood that you would have to settle for moments like these, even if they brought more grief than comfort.

Law closed his eyes, relishing in your gestures of care and whispered reassurances. He savoured the temporary comfort your presence provided. Despite the warmth of your touch, and the tenderness of your words, Law wouldn't allow you to fill the emptiness inside him. He feared love because of what it had done to those he loved before. Love meant vulnerability, and he couldn't let himself be vulnerable again. Still, he couldn't deny the solace you brought him, even if it was hidden under the guise of mere subordination.

You continued to stroke his hair, feeling the weight of his head on your lap. The closeness was bittersweet - each moment a balm to your love, yet a reminder that it was unrequited. You longed to tell him how much he meant to you, to tell him how his company soothed the aching loneliness you felt, but you knew it was no use. Pushing too hard would only drive him away, and that was a risk you couldn't take.

While Law shunned love because of past losses, you yearned for love to compensate for those losses. And despite the understanding that your love might never be fully returned, you stayed by his side, finding purpose in being his quiet support.

Even if you don't reciprocate I'll be with you

Kinda think this was vague at some places, but I like how it turned out ᕙ⁠(⁠ ⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠ ⁠)⁠ᕗ

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yves ask<3

At like 2am I was listening to a playlist that had the song It's Over Isn't It from Steven Universe and I couldn't help but think a little bit about Yves. Idk if you see it but some of the lines in the song were giving me a bit of angsty Yves vibes. Like Yves not understanding why he "lost" to some random love interest like in that one Montgomery post.

Idk could be just me but I got a bit of Yves brain going on rn..

Well i mean, Yves was partially inspired by Pearl from Steven universe too, and it definitely comes with the angst fr theres some parallels between Greg and Monty; Yves FUCKING hates Montgomery's guts for stealing you away but he has no choice but to act like he actually "loves" him deep down, past Yves's monster-in-law exterior. Because Montgomery makes you happy and he knows if Yves were to express how he really feels, you would be devastated.

In his mind, the ultimate goal isn't to please himself, but to please you in life. He can't kill Montgomery or else you will feel hollow and unhappy. He cant give you an ultimatum, because even if you chose him, you would still yearn for Montgomery. Yves can't just bend reality this time, because somehow your attraction and love towards Montgomery is so strong, to break that bond is to break you too.

So he just smiles and digs his fingernails into his palm until it breaks the skin, only letting out the most blood-curling, ear-obliterating Yves-rage scream in the privacy of his home. Maybe even sticking some pins and needles into his heavily abused Montgomery voodoo doll, casting spells with obscure ingredients and ancient scripts since he would turn spiritual when facing things that he couldn't accept.

Under all that calm and collected mask is a hurricane of emotions; especially unimaginable anguish and anger. Desperately wishing that you would have preferred what Yves had. Desperately wishing you had chosen him instead.

But you nor Montgomery would know the depth of his hatred for the man who robbed Yves of his rightful position as your husband. You wouldn't know the excruciating pain he felt when you rejected him and went for someone he perceived as a lesser being. He hates him.

Yves hates, hates, hates Montgomery so much and he would torture him so gorily and cruelly, that even the devil would retch in disgust. Alas, you love that... Pathetic excuse of a man. He cannot do anything further than a couple of petty exchanges and stare at you longingly.

You wouldn't know just how much your best friend despised and loathed him, especially when he's so kind to Montgomery and claims to care about him too.

Perhaps you should listen to your husband when he says he's not at all comfortable being alone in a room with Yves. Maybe you should believe Montgomery when he says there is something very, very off about your beloved best friend.

Then again, Yves doesn't take his mask slipping off his true, ugly form lightly. Best to just pretend that nothing is happening and ignore the fact that his house increasingly smells like incense.

[nichoswag]

Hey I really love your works!! I wanna request the trope "demon x human" with maki please? Demon is y/n and human is maki! Not sure if you need more infos, but you can add the prompt #9 "may i have this dance?” Thank you!!

eyes . hirota riki

prompt: "may i have this dance?"

trope: demon x human

pairing: stranger!human!maki x demon!female reader

warnings: reader is a demon obviously, lots of flirting, kissing, cursing, teasing, fear, pet names (handsome, love, cutie)

song rec: your eyes tell - bts

a/n: this is an interesting take on this trope! when i put it on the list, this was not exactly the person and scenario I'd imagined for this quote and trope, but i'm happy to write it!! i like writing new things! thank you anon for requesting, and i hope this is what you had in mind! enjoy ♡

maki looks around the lively room. he's currently at a party his friends have dragged him to, except they've all gone off and he's all alone.

he keeps looking for his friends when he spots you.

you meet his curious, doe-like orbs with your own siren eyes.

immediately, you decide you need to have this man. he's simply too cute and attractive. you have the urge to steal him and take him far away so only you can look at him.

maki's curious eyes turn fearful as he realizes you're eyeing him as if you want to devour him whole. he realizes as your eyes flash red exactly what you are.

a demon.

maki obviously knew there would be demons at this party, but he could not have predicted he'd pique one's interest. he wonders if the rumors and myths about your kind are true - are you truly capable of unimaginable sins? would you snap and kill him in a heartbeat?

you notice the look on his face change from curious to terrified, and flash him a smile as if to say 'it's alright, i'm not gonna hurt you,' as you're thinking quite the opposite. there's just something about him that makes you want to protect him forever.

as you smile at him, he takes in your razor-sharp teeth from across the room, and his fear turns to sheer panic.

"relax, she won't hurt you," a voice says from beside him. a girl slings her arm around his shoulder. "i think she likes you, actually, considering she looks like she wants to rip my throat out."

maki looks back to you to see you making a face that's truly much more terrifying. somehow, even looking angry, he's able to notice how absolutely stunning you look in your red dress with your hair down.

"do you wanna go get a drink with me?" the mystery girl next to him asks.

only then does he notice her sharp teeth and red eyes.

"oh- i, uh-"

"sorry to interrupt, but can i steal this guy away for a sec?"

maki turns to see that you've made your way across the floor and are now standing in front of him, seemingly close to bursting into flames.

the girl side eyes you, but maki feels something wrong about staying with her, so he opts to nod at you as you take his hand and lead him back across the room.

you both seat yourselves on an unoccupied couch, ignoring the couple making out against the wall next to you.

"sorry if i startled you," you say. "that girl is just-"

"dangerous, right?" maki asks, and you're taken aback at how he knew that. "i could kind of sense something was wrong with her."

"she's one of those demons who hurts humans for fun," you explain. "i won't get into detail, but it's pretty fucked up."

his eyes widen. "wait- so you mean all demons aren't like that?"

you're again taken aback. "how little do you know about us? the laws we go by say we can't do any harm to humans."

it's his turn to be surprised now. "but- earlier, you were staring at me like you were gonna eat me."

you laugh, and he somehow still thinks the sound is sweet. "i wasn't gonna eat you, silly. though i could if you want me to-"

"i'm good, trust me." he chuckles.

"so what's your name, handsome?" you ask.

he blushes furiously. "it's maki. well- riki, technically, but my friends call me maki."

"cute," you mutter. "i'm ____."

"that's a pretty name," he says, attempting to be bold.

you giggle. a new song plays in the background, a japanese song you recognize by bts. "ooh, i like this song!"

he nods his head to the beat. "it's a nice song. you have good taste.

you stand up in front of maki and extend your hand. "may i have this dance?"

he giggles like a little kid. "you sound like an old person."

you glare at him. "do you wanna dance or not?"

he grabs your hand and you both walk closer to the middle of the room. his hands are on your waist, yours on his broad shoulders, and you swear you could die like this as you sway to the sweet melody.

"so, you like me?" maki asks suddenly. "that's what that girl said, and the way you were looking at me..."

you contemplate how to answer. "well, yes. i thought you were really cute when i saw you and i hated that that bitch had her claws on you."

he blushes again, flustered. "you're really pretty yourself."

"yeah, love?" you smirk at him. "you like me too, don't you?"

he exhales sharply, not sure how to answer. "um... i think so."

"you think so?" you aren't satisfied with his answer. "you mean you don't know?"

"well... i wanna get to know you better," he says.

this satisfies you a bit. "you're so cute," you whisper, but he hears anyway.

"thank you," he says, not meeting your eyes.

you remove a hand from his shoulders to palm the side of his face and steer it back towards you. "look at me. i wanna see those pretty eyes of yours."

he blushes again, his doe eyes wide as he looks into your narrow, crimson orbs. they're beautiful to him, in a way.

he realizes your faces are getting closer together when you're only inches apart.

"can i kiss you?" you whisper as your lips ghost his.

he closes his eyes and connects his lips to yours. your arms wrap fully around his neck, pulling his body in closer, and his arms envelop your torso.

a few moments later, he pulls away with a gasp for air. "jesus. that was..."

"good?" you ask, tilting your head to feign innocence. your eyes narrow. "i've been told i'm a good kisser."

"how many people have you kissed?" he asks, seemingly upset.

you caress his face with one hand, reaching the other to snake around his waist and close the distance again. "the number doesn't matter. what's important is that none were ever as stunning as you."

you kiss him again, and this time he rests his hands on your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into the bare skin where there's a gap in the dress you're wearing.

this time, you pull away to let him get some air, but you stay close, resting your forehead against his. "i want to get to know you too, cutie."

he giggles against your lips. "well, what are you waiting for?"

©nichoswag | do not copy my work or repost onto any other platform.

[bisexualfemalemess]

BRIDGERTON SEASON 3 PT 2 SPOILERS

Live reaction episode 5:

I’m a little disappointed that we didn’t get to see Penelope’s answer to colin’s proposal but in my head she just straight up faceplanted outta that carriage. On another note, colin constantly looking back at her to check on her is peak protective husband. Colin ‘my wife’ bridgerton indeed. Also Penelope’s so loved by his family and not him being willing to fight Eloise, his own sister, like hold your horses buddy. El baby she’s loved him since you guys were children. Both are honestly valid and i love them both so much, i just need my peneloise besties back right now. Like so expeditiously. Awww, colin checking up on pen. He’s truly already so far gone. I’M SORRY THE TREE???? What the actual fuck???? Lady tilley arnold needs to get the fuck off my screen. I’ve never read the books but booktok and twitter made me love sophie already, i need her. Not pen listening to her family reading LW Lmaoo she seems so smug about it. EY LADY DANBURY HAPPY ABOUT POLIN THEY’RE SO LOVED BY EVERYONE. KANTHONY MY BABIES. MY PARENTS ARE GONNA BE ACTUAL PARENTS STFU. Anthony’s so feral for her 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 aww hyacinth is so excited to tell them about polin’s new engagement my daughter fr. HYACINTH OMG IJBOL NOT HER SAYING GREGORY’S THE FAMILY PET I’MMA DIE. Eloise baby she did not use you, she loves you and you love her so make up bitches. Cressida is so gay for eloise no one can tell me otherwise. OH MY GOD NOT THE BOOK LINE ABOUT HIS LOVE BEING A THUNDERBOLT FROM THE SKY SOMEONE SEDATE ME (might need to make a part two and i’m only 10 minutes in) they’re not even married yet and Benedicts like “your wives” she’s always been a bridgerton for real. PORTIA I AM INDIFFERENT TOWARDS YOU BUT BACK OFF FROM MY GIRLY AND DON’T MAKE HER DOUBT HER RELATIONSHIP. COLINS SO HOT TELLING PORTIA OFF SOMEONE GET ME SOME HOLY WATER OR SOMETHING JESUS FUCKING CHRIST. HE’S BEEN WITH HER FOR LESS THAN 24 HOURS AND HE’S ALREADY THROWING AROUND THE L-WORD OH HE FELL SO HARD FOR HER IMMA THROW MYSELF IN FRONT OF A MOVING TRUCK. MIRROR SCENE OH MY GOD OH MY GOD ALRIGHT ITS HAPPENING ITS HAPPENING OH HIS SPEECH IMMA KILL MYSELF IM SO SERIOUS. THIS IS PERFECT OH MY GOD, NICOLA COUGHLAN IS A GODESS AND THEIR CHEMISTRY IS SO PALPABLE. “LIE DOWN” THAT WAS SO FUCKING HOT, COLIN BRIDGERTON CAN COMMAND ME AROUND ANY DAY. Sex scene, sex scene, sex scene….TO POV???? Oh, that’s such a beautiful song choice. This is literally so intimate, i feel like I’m intruding. Colin bridgerton is a canon consent man and as a woman i think that’s so sexy. That was the cutest sex scene of my life, cute, hot, awkward, everything a first time is supposed to be (i wouldn’t know🙊) KANTHONY SCENE. HES THE CUTEST ALL KISSING HER STOMACH. Newton and Anthony always beefing. Their so cute 😫😫😫. Awww John and Francesca are so cute as well. Awwww him asking about marriage 😖😖😖. VISCOUNTESS KATE IN ACTION MY BABY GIRL. She’s working overtime being pregnant, viscountess and giving eloise advice. She clocked peneloise’s tea. AWW Post-sex polin is the cutest with the book line too 🥹🥹🥹🥹 and the teasing!!! They’re truly so friends to lovers. NOT HER GETTING INTERRUPTED WHEN SHE WANTS TO TELL HIM SHE’S WHISTLEDOWN. FUCK ASS SERVANTS. Oh poor pen having to listen to her fiancé trash-talk her without knowing he’s taking about her, like i wouldn’t tell him i’m Whistledown either after this, bet. Also they literally have no sense of personal space and it’s too cute. Aww a colin and eloise talk. THEY WERE INSEPARABLE AND THEY NEED TO BE AGAIN SOON OR IMMA DO SOMETHING SO DRASTIC I SWEAR TO GOD. Peneloise as bestie sister-in-law’s is something that i need so bad it’s like not even funny anymore. Penelope’s sister need to leave her the fuck alone and portia needs to leave her ulterior motives at the door even penelope was like what the hell is going on. I don’t really mind will and alice plot honestly they’re just a cute married couple, much like polin will be. OH MY GOD NOT BENEDICT CALLING KATE SISTER IM DYING IM DECEASED. THAT FUCK ASS TOP HAH OH MY LORD. NOT COLIN CALLING PENELOPE HIS BRIDE TO BE 🫠

[e-dubbc11]

Song Lyric Prompt with Billy Russo

“Irreplaceable” By Beyoncé 2006

[Chorus]

You must not know 'bout me

You must not know 'bout me

I could have another you in a minute

Matter of fact, he'll be here in a minute, baby

You must not know 'bout me

You must not know 'bout me

I can have another you by tomorrow

So don't you ever for a second get to thinking

You're irreplaceable

This song made me think of Billy. As much as I love how you write Billy 😍, he is canonically a F-Boy. 🤣

I’m not gonna lie, this was really difficult for me but thank you for pushing me out of my comfort zone, I do need that once in awhile, so I appreciate you. So this isn’t EXACTLY what you probably had in mind because I kinda made the reader a bit of an asshole, an “I don’t give a fuck” kinda girl. She’s a self made HBIC.

Irreplaceable

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader

Warnings: couple of swear words, reader is kind of a player, herself but she’s a little soft as well. Mention of oral sex.

Word Count: little less than 1K

Summary: Reader knows she’s being played but she knows how to play that game too

A/N: I am so old, like I knew what an F-boy was but back when I was young (when dinosaurs roamed the earth) we just called them players so this is a little different than what was asked but I hope you like it anyway!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

He wasn’t what you expected him to be like…in bed.

You expected him to be selfish, to only care about himself and his needs but that wasn’t the case. He took care of you and your needs first.

Taking you out for a nice dinner, drinks afterwards, and even a little dancing. That was the start of his foreplay, he turned on his charm and flashed that perfect smile at you but you’ve seen it before. You knew his type, very well. He wasn’t the first guy in a fancy suit to get in your pants and he wouldn’t be the last.

There was something about maintaining a relationship that you just couldn’t seem to get a handle on, not that you didn’t eventually want one because you did. But it was easy to drive them away, you were ALWAYS working.

Owning and running your law firm was exhausting but it’s something you’ve wanted since you were young. Your mother had a picture of you when you were about 12 years old, wearing a Harvard sweatshirt, and even at that age you knew you wanted to be a lawyer.

And now you were the top defense attorney in the city and Billy Russo wasn’t the only one with a penthouse. You had one of your own.

You knew you weren’t the only woman he was using his charms on but you let him do it anyway. Why should he get to have all the fun? He should have a taste of his own medicine. Billy thought you were naïve enough to think you were the only woman he was seeing but also didn’t think you were seeing anyone else.

Always getting what you wanted was in your nature, it was in your DNA. You were a woman of status, high class, and appreciated the finer things in life because you worked your ass off for them. A glass of good bourbon after dinner, high end clothes, designer bags and shoes…all bought and paid for by you. What could a man give you that you couldn’t get for yourself?

Nothing.

Sure, the sex was good but you could do that by yourself too. That’s why they make toys. But you preferred sparring with a partner and Billy was good for that. He was really good.

Those long slender fingers of his could make you see stars every time and he could teach a class on how to properly go down on a woman because that tongue of his was a gift.

Letting him think that he was the only one that could do that to you was fun for you though, only because you knew he was using his “skills” elsewhere, not caring who he hurt in the process.

You never accepted a first offer at work or while you play so not asking “how high” every time Billy told you to “jump” was something he wasn’t used to. You didn’t always make yourself available to him every time he wanted to see you.

Why should you?

If you weren’t available, he’d just call someone that was.

“Can’t tonight, handsome. Gotta get some things done.”

But you knew he would continue to check up on you, in case you finished your work early enough for him to take you out for a drink to unwind.

Sometimes you’d let him, sometimes you wouldn’t even though you were finished with your work for the day. But you did really like him.

And one day after many months of casual play, he felt the need to come clean.

“You aren’t the only woman I’ve been seeing, y/n.” He said in a serious tone.

Never breaking eye contact, you sarcastically replied. “You think I don’t know that, Billy? How dumb do you think I am? You’re Billy fuckin’ Russo, handsome playboy CEO. You need a different woman for the different moods you’re in, right?” You said with a furrowed brow.

His jaw dropped and he was speechless.

When he finally was able to string words together, he said, “Well I just thought that we were having a good time together so—“

You cut him off. “Yes, we have been having a lot of fun. I do really like you, but I know who you are Billy Russo because I’ve dated many like you, at least they didn’t try to hide it from me! You think you’re the only man I’m seeing? I gotta lawyer over in Hell’s Kitchen that gives a good tongue fucking too, ya know.”

You put on your coat and picked up your purse. Billy almost looked ashamed like he was sorry, and he didn’t know what to say to you. All he could manage was to gaze at you with his endless brown eyes and run his fingers through his ebony colored hair.

“I do really like you, Billy. More than I’ve liked anyone in a long time but you decided to play with fire so I don’t know why you’re surprised you got burned.” You said, your voice dripping with disdain.

He tried to explain. “Baby, I really need to tell you something.”

But you didn’t want to listen. “Goodbye Billy.”

You walked out of his penthouse and left him sitting on the couch wondering what the fuck just happened. He felt guilty, probably for the first time in his life, for not being honest with you.

He tried not to, he never did this but Billy developed feelings for you and what he wanted to tell you was the reason that he came clean about the other women was because he didn’t want to see anyone else anymore.

He only wanted to see you.

But he blew it, you were gone, and he wondered if you were ever going to speak to him again.

Like you, Billy Russo is also a person that knows what he wants and he wanted you so he didn’t care how long it was going to take, he was determined to make you his…whatever it takes.

More than anything, he desired to be…irreplaceable.

Tag List: @mindidjarin @saintmurd0ck @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @xdervyxccgh @mattmurdocksscars @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams @idek-what-to-put @anastasianeedstoread @ratsys @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705

Others that may enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @russosafehaven @mrsbillyrusso @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from) my tag list for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again

[chloeangelic]

Why does it seem like everything you've put out lately is just trying to rip off netherfeildren? Like the art, the plots, the aesthetics... Especially weird since you used to seem to always hype them up

I went back and forth on responding to this but I’ve decided to because I don’t appreciate having my integrity questioned. I kind of expected that I'd get something like this because there are some thematic similarities between Seeking and SWITBOSH. However, I won’t respond publicly to anything else like this cause I think we’re all very over The Discourse, and tbh it’s a massive fucking insult to accuse me of ripping someone off when I’ve spent seven months writing ca 200k words of fic and developing my own unique style of writing. If you can’t see the difference between two writers, just because they write emotional depth and full sentences, then please read an actual book and not just brainrot fic. I’m gonna properly address everything under the cut - anon domming is back on the menu today. 

That being said, because this feels weird and uncomfortable for me and likely for Vic, I’m turning off anons for the time being and I’m taking a posting break to decide whether I want to continue posting here at all or continue posting purely on AO3. I post there anyways under the same name. If you still have a bone to pick with me or my writing, please message me directly. Please do NOT pester Vic about this, I know very well that she does not enjoy The Discourse or any sort of drama. Everyone is sick of the copying discourse - please have some trust in writers’ self awareness. 

Firstly, the words “recently” and “plots” should be defined here - I personally don’t see how stepdaddy Joel, pornstar Tim, sex addict Dieter, baby daddy Javi or any of Love Me back is similar to her works at all. The Seeking teaser I posted yesterday was similar to her Pink teasers purely because it had text on a photo - my text wasn’t even from the fic, it was a quote that represented the series as a whole and the quote that finally made the series crystallize in my head. It’s the quote I want people to have in the back of their mind when they go into reading it - it’s from the song that I consider the series theme. Our formatting is not the same. Yes, I have quotes at the beginning of the chapters - my friend sent me a bunch of poems and a couple, I felt were relevant to the story so I wanted to add them somehow. Several writers do this. I stopped putting in previews above the cut cause it was making it difficult for me to write the beginning of the chapters. My masterlist art is the same as, like.. Everyone’s else’s masterlist post - the norm on here is to have an artwork from Pinterest, the title slapped on top and the writer’s name. I literally just loved Pascalisbaby’s masterlist art so much I decided to do it too. 

When you say plots, I’m assuming you’re drawing parallels between Seeking what is desirable and Someone’s Wife in the Boat of Someone’s Husband because cheater!Joel (or maybe even Pink cause DDLG, but I’m literally in a DDLG-type dynamic irl and I decided to incorporate it into a fic for once - there were CLEAR ddlg undertones in Love Me Back, it just wasn’t explicit. I also wrote several chapters of Seeking before Pink even came out, and I wrote a cheating + father in law oneshot this summer). 

The MC in Seeking is based on myself and my own life, moving away from my parents in order to live with my boyfriend at the time very far away, who ended up being extremely absent and shitty. MC+Jeremiah relationship is based on Adam and Hermine from EXIT, Jeremiah is based on Tony Soprano, Gwen is based on Janice Soprano + a story I heard from my cousin about how his wife let him do all the childcare while she went on a women’s retreat. They are not in a marriage of convenience, the MC doesn’t feel bad about the affair at all, she never pushes him away, and Gwen has no plans on leaving. Sarah and Ellie are both 16 and living with Joel in Seeking. The MC does not have similarities to Sarah like she does in Love Me Back (which was also literally based on my own life) or Someone’s.

MC is a teacher who cheats with Joel - so is the MC in my post outbreak series I wrote many months ago. They're drawn to each other immediately cause I hate slow burn fics and I didn't feel like writing two chapters of him fucking someone else this time around. She goes out intending to cheat, and he thinks it'll sustain him for the next several years. The first thing I thought up in this entire series was Jeremiah - I had his character crystallized in my head for weeks before I planned anything else.

Of course Joel is unhappy in his marriage - neither Vic or myself would write a Joel who cheats for fun, that’s just not something either of us finds interesting. It actually started as a Sopranos AU, but I decided against going that route cause I don’t know enough about white collar crime. Also, if you are familiar with my writing you’ll know I love writing infidelity - it shouldn’t be a surprise that I’m writing a series with this as the central theme. The central question for Seeking is when is it okay to cheat? That’s what the entire fic is about. It’s not about him finding the love of his life after marrying someone else (like the summary of Someone’s), it’s about two instances of cheating and how we justify those two scenarios. Of course it has a happy ending - I’ve used up my non-happy ending quota for the year. 

I’m not sure what you mean by aesthetics - Vic actually edits really nice graphics for all of her Mando chapters. She spends a bunch of time on those, and you’re doing a disservice to her by overlooking how unique her artwork is and how much effort it takes. She also made really cool teasers for Pink. I’m way too lazy for any of that, I just slam a moodboard together. I started doing 3 slot moodboards cause the 6-7 slot ones were a hassle. The fact that only art pieces are used in this series is half coincidence, half me being sick of trying to fit Pedro pics into the moodboards when the colors are often wrong. 

I literally texted with her when I planned this series, saying I was afraid people would accuse it of being a ripoff of Someone’s, purely due to the Joel infidelity + uninterested wife factor, and she did not think the overall plot was similar enough to be of concern. I still hype her up, she just doesn’t post as often now so I don’t reblog as often, that’s pretty simple. I’ve also asked Iris, my editor, SEVERAL TIMES if it reads too similar to Someone’s or anything Vic has written - she is extremely familiar with both of our works and she did not think so. What exactly am I supposed to do when I’ve gotten the green light from everyone? 

This specific anon didn’t mention the actual writing, though, which is funny and it makes sense because I don’t write like Vic and I don’t try to. Her vocabulary is way larger than mine, the diction and syntax are not similar at all. She actually uses metaphors, I use them very rarely and only when it’s super dramatic. My writing isn’t poetic, it’s not flowery, it’s not formal - it’s literally just how I think inside my own head. When I read my own writing, I imagine Charles Gross doing a dramatic reading. I learn like one new word every month and eventually I’ll add it to my writing when it’s something I’m confident using irl. She has a lot of depth to her fics, I also try to write with emotional depth - I’m sorry if that’s unfamiliar in a landscape of dbf porn with no plot and 5 word sentences (I’m shading my own first series here). Seeking reads more similar to the first series I ever wrote, which I never posted, than anything else I’ve written. Half of Seeking is also straight up daydreaming sequences cause that’s literally how I think - the MC lives a boring life and daydreams, so do I. 

I’ve learned a ton from reading Vic’s stuff - I don’t read that much irl cause I rarely find English novels captivating, but her writing has really made an impression on me. I talk constantly about how much her writing makes me cry, and it really does. Reading her stuff has absolutely influenced me to be more confident about weaving in actions and little plot points that are more vulnerable and personal to myself, and that adds a lot of depth it otherwise wouldn’t. I’m very inspired by her, of course I am - but I know the difference between being inspired and trying to leech. 

I’m sorry my writing style has developed. I’m sorry I no longer write like I did in April, with matter-of-factly short sentences and little emotional depth. I have short series and long series because some plots deserve more emotional depth and some don’t need it. I wouldn’t bother writing anymore if all I did was shady lawyer Joel or Father Joel and I never improved. 

If you don’t enjoy my writing, please just unfollow. I’ve seen other fics on this platform that read similar to mine, some that have exactly the same plot points/origin stories, and at no point have I thought they were ripping me off. At some point, this specific fandom needs to realize that it’s possible for two writers to have similar ideas without it being one person copying the other. My personal opinion is that if you copy someone’s plot, you won’t be able to execute it well because you don’t have the ideas necessary to actually flesh it out. If you’re familiar with my writing, you know damn well I’m capable of coming up with my own ideas and plots. I feel zero need to rip other people's in order to gain traction - I have enough followers and idgaf how many notes anything gets. Please don’t overestimate my ability to give a fuck about my popularity in this fandom. 

Anyways, thanks for making me want to vomit, anon, you truly made me feel like shit today and I hope you have a great night! I’m not sure how much I’ll be checking tumblr for a while so feel free to message me on discord under the same name.

[ghostoffuturespast]

What’d I miss what’s the thing with the clair de lune piano? 👀 gotta know the backstory

Hehehe I'm so glad you asked :>

I jokingly refer to the Clair de Lune piano (the piano in the Peralez's apartment for anyone reading this) as my arch nemesis, but it's actually one of my favorite pieces of foreshadowing in CP2077. Like it's just one of those things you'd never know, unless you took the time to get to know, and there's just so much of that in this game. A mind-boggling amount of it. It makes my brain very happy and it's one of the many reasons why I love this game so goddamn much. It's just layer upon layer upon layer. The cake that keeps on giving!

Now, there is a possibility that this wasn't intended as foreshadowing, but given how many music and poetry references there are in the game, I'm really hard pressed to believe that the inclusion of Clair de Lune wasn't intentional.

(Heck, look up the other classical song that is referenced in the game Nocturnes, Op. 55, Frederic Chopin, and Jane Stirling. You may see some similarities in situation between Chopin and Stirling, and V and Hanako. Two diseased dying virtuosos and their two wealthy financial sponsors crutching them along.)

We as players can encounter Clair de Lune piano twice in the game. First at the end of the quest I Fought the Law and then a second time at the beginning of Dream On. Both instances, in the Peralez's apartment on a self-playing piano. The melody drifting disembodied through the air...

At first listen, the fact that this song is playing, may not have even registered. (It certainly didn't for me the first several times I played.) Just a classical song being listened to by a couple of rich people for atmosphere. Dig a little deeper, you may have noticed the moon motif based on the title of the song. There's a lot of moon and space motifs in this game too. But the true meaning of this song requires you to know a little bit of music history.

Clair de Lune is the third movement of a piano suite called Suite bergamasque that was composed by Claude Debussy. That third movement got its inspiration and name from a poem written by Paul Verlaine.

Clair de Lune is a fucking poem.

A poem about a masquerade dance underneath the moonlight where all the dancers are living a fantasy life. Very much in the same way that we find out in the conclusion of Dream On that Jefferson and Elizabeth Peralez are living their own fantasy life...

Foreshadowing.

Clair de Lune by Paul Verlaine Your soul is like a landscape fantasy, Where masks and Bergamasks, in charming wise, Strum lutes and dance, just a bit sad to be Hidden beneath their fanciful disguise. Singing in minor mode of life’s largesse And all-victorious love, they yet seem quite Reluctant to believe their happiness, And their song mingles with the pale moonlight, The calm, pale moonlight, whose sad beauty, beaming, Sets the birds softly dreaming in the trees, And makes the marbled fountains, gushing, streaming – Slender jet-fountains – sob their ecstasies.

And remember...

Nothing comes before Night City.

[caramelmachatwo]

"You're a Mystic Force"

my take on magnets by Niki Zefanya

Where do I even start? It's the perfect song for a crush, requited or unrequited It sounds lovely, it's essentially about two people having sparks, where two can't be together but there's an undeniable romantic tension. The two are so alike, "are you the one or are you just a mirror?" A question for all the couples out there, are you and your partner more alike or the opposites? Do both dynamics work?

It's electric when our fingers brush, quit acting like we're not two magnets. A MYSTIC FORCEEEEEE. As much as one can deny that you aren't attracted to this person, it's obvious that you are, they're surreal and all you want is them. Astronomically drawn to them but you're so stubborn, I see you, and you can see it from them too. You try so hard to push aside thoughts of them, keeping yourself busy to stop yourself replaying moments they made you laugh, but no, at this point you should already realize that you're losing this war. Admit it, accept defeat that you like them. But the irony of this is magnets don't actually stick together. There's only one rule in magnets, and it's "Opposites attract". Painfully enough, if you two aren't a bit different then you wouldn't work, but most of the time people seek their lovers to have the same mind as them, I suppose they want familiarity in another body, to be understood immediately since you think the same. And I get it, it's exciting to find someone that likes the same music as you or interested in the same hobbies, and who wouldn't love someone that is like them? Assuming that you're caring and kind, wouldn't it be better to be loved like a twin.

The thing is we aren't ourselves all the time, we are beings that constantly evolves without a pause. There would be times that you completely act like someone you're not, or a phase that you swore wouldn't be in, moments where you aren't in the norm, and I think that's why we go well together with people who contrasts us. Because then your changes wouldn't affect your connection since you've dealt differences from the beginning. It's what brought you together in the first place.

Even if so, you are the same and think alike, you are bound to repel each other according to the law of magnetism, like poles resist, unlike poles pull. What a tragedy, but who knows?

If ever you and your partner are too similar or the same, prove magnetism wrong, defy the law

It would be so funny to see scientists mad at poets that violates their study.