#ask me anything about this topic i have too many feelings

[peoniesnro]

In Another Universe

#14. The Beginning of the END

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

Park Jimin × Reader

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

Warnings- Language/ Angst / INFIDELITY /SMUT- Making out/ Oral (F. and M. recieving) (Rough and soft)/ Dirty Talk/ Grinding/ Sex against a window/ Jealousy Fucks/ Mastrubating (F.)/ Rough sex / Unporected sex/ Pussy slpas/ Cumming inside/ Impregnation Kink!!!!!/ Safe words/ Edging/ Multiple orgasms (F.)/Overstimulation/ Spit play/ Jimin is jealous af/ Jimin is rough

Word count- 23K (I'm sorry. So so so sorry)

a/n- Some anonnie asked me how many more chapters there on the series and unfortunately I lost the ask. So, anon if you're seeing this, it's probably 20 plus the epilogue. We are slowly nearing the end now. I'm sad... (Anyway... like always thank you for reading babies, luv u ❤️)

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Chapter Index

Previous - Next

You walk through the busy sidewalk in silence. Your arm is hooked with Key’s. She’s been rambling about something that doesn’t quite reach your ears. You’re not paying attention to whatever she’s saying at all. Instead, your mind is racing with your latest discovery. It’s absurd how long it took you to realize something that has been happening for so long. It doesn’t make it less scary, however. 

It’s scary. Falling for Park Jimin. Scary as hell. For so many reasons. He’s in a relationship. He’s from a different world. You’ve not meant to be together at all. And above everything, he probably doesn’t like you at all.

And your greed, little thing, is about to consume you whole!

Yes, that’s exactly what’s about to happen now. You’ve been too greedy for something you couldn’t have and now you’re stuck in this no win situation. What are you ever going to do? A frustrated groan strangles in your throat. You need someone’s advice on this. Someone who isn’t Jungkook. Because Jungkook has been giving you the cold shoulder ever since the day at the restaurant. Since the moment you returned to the kitchen after talking with Jimin. You don’t know what’s wrong but it just adds more and more frustration to your stressed out mind. 

It’s been more than a week since your talk with Jimin. He has promised you that he’ll explain everything to you. Yet until this very moment, he hasn’t brought up the topic at all. Frustrating. You’re getting mad at him.  Not that you met him, true. It’s just text messages. Nothing crazy. Just mundane things. Asking about how each other’s days went or just gentle reminders to drink water. Yet he hasn’t asked to meet you or anything.

You feel neglected. Feel as if he has given you a fake promise. As if he has tricked you into something while bribing you with candy. It certainly feels like he’s avoiding talking about it on purpose. Then there is the fact that you like him. You no longer can deny it. And it hurts even more to think Jimin might not hold on to his promises. See, everything frustrates you. Hurts you. To add in to everything, there’s a teeny tiny part of you that is mad at him because he hasn’t made any efforts to at least meet you. Not just to hear his explanation. But to see him. Just see him. You miss him. 

Now since you don’t work at RUN, you don’t get to see him every other day. Another reason to be frustrated. Then there’s Jimin. Just going on with his life. Considering how desperately he seeked an opportunity to talk with you, this clearly looks odd to you. That leaves you with one conclusion. He’s purposefully avoiding you just to avoid the talk. Despite his words he doesn’t wish to actually tell you the truth. Right? That has to be it. Or you think so. Maybe that’s not the case at all. Maybe he’s just busy. 

You feel an overwhelming urge to pull from your hair. This is why you need someone else’s opinion. It would have been so nice if you could have talked about this with Jungkook. Someone who knows everything about you, inside out. Unfortunately, he’s going through PMS. He’s not available. And the only other option is your best friend. But she doesn’t know everything about you. Doesn’t know about your bitchy side to be specific. Maybe it’s time you should tell her. She’d call you out. Yell at you. Maybe even hit you. Yet in the end, she’s just like Jungkook. Will never leave your side. And in the end, you can have that advice you seek. 

You eye your best friend nervously. Without you realizing she has stopped rumbling. Her eyes are fixed ahead. Looks like she’s lost in her own thoughts as well. 

Should you tell her?

Wouldn’t you be able to solve everything on your own? But then, you know that this problem isn’t going to solve that easily. Sooner or later you would want her help yet again. And when that moment comes, she’d be more furious to know that you’d hidden something from her. 

You should tell her.

You stop abruptly in the middle of the sidewalk. Pulling Key into a stop with you. She frowns at you for a minute before her expression turns into something unreadable. If you didn’t know better, you’d say she looks almost nervous. She doesn’t have a reason to be nervous. You’re the one who’s nervous here. You drag in a deep breath to build the courage you need for this. 

“I have to tell you something.” You both blurt out at the same time. 

Oh.

You shut your mouth. It takes you a split second to register that she needs to tell you something as well. “You go ahead first.” You gesture at her, feeling a bit relieved that you can bide your time for a bit. Key shakes her head, however. “No,no, it’s fine, you can go ahead first.” She chuckles nervously. You give her a look. What is this? Why are you two acting like these polite strangers? It makes you feel weird. It seems like Key thinks so too. She heaves a heavy sigh. 

“Okay, fuck.” Mumbles. Looks briefly at you before averting her eyes to the road. Now it’s your time to frown. Why’s she so nervous?

“What is it?” You ask hesitantly. Another sigh from Key. A chuckle and you’re getting antsy. 

“It’s nothing really…uh.. I don’t know how to tell you this but-”

“Oh my god, what the fuck Key? What is it?” You almost yell. A passerby throws you an odd look. You bow to him slightly in apology. 

“Okay, okay, no need to fucking yell,” Key pouts. You wait patiently till she continues. “It’s about Chan actually, he uh.. He- the other day, actually he-” You narrow your eyes as Key starts to stutter horribly. You think you’re getting a hunch as to where this is going. Of course, you know. Corners of your mouth start to twitch, struggling to perform a smile. You find Key to be adorable right now. 

“He asked you out, didn't he?” You save her from the trouble. She immediately closes her mouth. Eyes wide and gaping at you like you’ve told the most unbelievable shit in the world. A throaty laugh escapes you. “What?” You question while raising one of your eyebrows. 

“H-how do you kn-know that?” She whispers. And your smile drops. Replace with guilt. You knew all along but you never told her because you were selfish. You nibble on your bottom lip for a minute before finding your words.  

“He told me.” You admit. Feeling bitter. Key gasps.

“When?” Her eyes widened even more. You shrug, trying to act as if this is nothing. “Eh…. the day I confessed- I mean the day I tried to do soー” Your sentence got interrupted when Key suddenly stepped forward. Grabs your shoulders.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” You watch as something akin to guilt slash across her wide eyes. “I’m so sorry.” She shakes her head. Oh, you hate this. Key doesn’t have to feel guilty. She has done nothing wrong. You shrug her hands off you.

“It’s nothing Key. I mean I was hurt back then but I’m fine now. I’m way over it.” You wave a dismissive hand in front of your face. Change the topic as you opt into an excited mood. “So, tell me? What did you tell him?” You smile giddily. Key, however, doesn’t share your enthusiasm. She gasps again. Scandalous. Now looks at you like you’ve grown two heads.

“Of course, I said no woman. I won’t do that to you.” She scoffs in disbelief. “How could I? I mean why would you ever think that I would do something like that to you.” Key appears as if you’ve betrayed her. You sigh exasperatedly. 

“Yah!!” Give her a serious look. “I’m seriously over it dude, I’m telling you. Trust me I don’t have an ounce of feelings toward him now.” And you’re telling the truth. A you from a few months ago would have bleed right at the spot to hear what Key just told you. But now, you don’t feel anything except the giddy feeling of knowing the dirty deets of your best friend's life. It has a lot to do with your new life. You’re no longer pinning over your boss. No. Instead now you’re pinning over a rich CEO, who has a far better girlfriend than you. If Chan’s situation hurts you, this is about to kill you. But besides Jimin, you think you’ve developed a teeny bit. You can understand that Chan doesn’t like you. And that did hurt but now you’re fine. 

“How come?” Key scowls deeply. “Your feelings just evaporated. Just like that?” Throws a skeptical glance at you. Maybe this is your time to tell her your secret. But something she said suddenly piques your interest.

“Yes it did, but wait-” You tilt your head to the sight. Feel amused. “Did you say that, you said no to him because of me? Not because you don’t like him?” You’re not asking out of spite. Just genuinely curious. And the prospect she actually likes Chan makes you happy. Not bitter. Key pales. 

“I mean yeah, that also. I don’-”

“Key.”

“Yes.”

“Hey,” It’s your time to grab her shoulders. She avoids your eyes as she turns her head down. “Do you like him?” You ask softly. No answer. “Listen, I know he really likes you. And if you really like him-” You tilt your head to look at her eyes. Fail. “if you really like him-” So, you continue. “You should give it a chance.” You finish when she finally looks at you. Already shaking her head. 

“No. Fuck no. I will never ever do that to you. What kind of friend-”

“I like someone else.” You blurt out. Interrupting her ramble. It works. Key shuts her mouth as if you’ve just slapped her. 

“Huh?”

“I like someone else, Key. I don’t like Chan anymore.” Just like that the entire conversation takes a 180- degree. You’re not the one who’s asking questions anymore. You’re being interrogated in the middle of a sidewalk. Key bombards you with so many questions at once that you barely catch a single one of them. She starts from ‘who’ and ends with cursing you for not letting her know earlier. You on the other hand don’t answer any of her questions. She doesn’t let you. “Will you calm down?” You mutter lastly. Key hisses at you.

“No.. I will not calm down. Not until you tell me who this mystery man is.”

“Well, that's what I'm trying to do but you’re not letting me.” You complain. 

“Okay, so, tell me who he is? Do I know him? Is he from the communication class? Is he from our college or did you meet him online?” Key looks genuinely excited. Just like how you looked a minute ago. You feel a pang in your chest. She’s not going to like what you’re about to tell her. You shake your head. “No?” She asks. Takes a minute. Her face falls as you watch the realization hit her. “He’s not from here.” It sounds like a statement not a question. Yet you nod anyway. Key curses aloud. “Dude. Fucking hell! That’s not good.” States the obvious. “You only have a year, man. How are you… oh, god- who is he? Jungkook? It makes sense that you’d fall for him. You live together. To be honest I was afraid of something like this ha-”

“It’s not Jungkook.” You interrupt her yet again. A silence falls between you two. Key doesn’t ask you who he is again. But you just casually reach for your bag. Fumble inside for a second before finding what you want. Your fingers tightly wrap around the picture as you hold it for Key. The polaroid you manage to get from Jimin the day of your little- not a date. It took you great effort. Lots of convincing. But you won in the end. That’s how you now hold the one where you’re frowning at Jimin when he’s just looking at you. Not just looking at you. No. You chose the specific photo just because of the way he’s looking at you. He looks at you like you’re his entire world. Like you’re his entire universe. Like he hasn’t seen something more beautiful before. Like he’s so whipped for you. Trapped with you and he doesn’t want to be freed. 

Of course, that can’t be the truth now. It’s just your stupid heart making things up. 

Key takes the polaroid from you. Slowly. Scans her eyes over the image. A beat passes. 

“Holy fuck! This is fucking worse.” Mumbles ever so slowly.

…………………………

Key wasn't helpful in giving you advice. Like you wanted her to be. Or maybe she was but simply didn’t say what you wanted to hear. What you wanted to hear was that you need to wait until Jimin reaches you. You wanted to hear that Jimin is just busy and not purposely avoiding you or anything. But what you heard was the complete opposite. She said that Jimin is an asshole, which is nothing new. And how you have to immediately get rid of your feelings. No matter what. Your attempt at reasoning with her didn’t work at all. That’s how you find yourself in the same situation the next day. Sitting at Jungkook’s couch. He’s getting ready to leave for classes. Is giving you the same silent treatment like always. It’s raining heavily outside but the gloom inside his apartment has nothing to do with that. 

You’ve tried several times to ask Jungkook what’s wrong but he’s been avoiding that successfully. He would just click his tongue. Would walk away. Would shrug or say simply ‘nothing’. Now, it’s getting unbearable. You feel suffocated. And you miss your Jungkook. The one who’s always positive. Joke around. Being clingy and annoying to you. You sigh desperately when he walks past you for the tenth time without even sparing you a second glance. He’s being stupid, really. It’s not like you’ve done anything to upset him. He needs to grow up and learn how to talk. If he’s not going to do that on his own, then you should.

“Kook.” You call him out just as he’s about to enter his room. He halts. Doesn’t turn around, however. You get to your feet. Take a couple steps forward. Wait for a second to see if he’d turn around. He still doesn’t. So, you decide to ask what you wanted to ask. “Okay, what’s happening? Why the hell are you ignoring me? What the fuck did I do?” You blurt out all the questions you wanted to ask from him. This time he just turns partially to look at you. You wait with a bated breath until he answers when he just shakes his head. Disappointment washes over you. 

“It’s nothing.” Jungkook mutters. Almost disappears inside his room when you shout at him. 

“It’s clearly not nothing!” You take another step. Jungkook stops again. 

“I told you it’s nothing. Really.” He says again. This time with a stern edge in his voice. As if he’s warning you to let it go. Well, the hell you would do that. This pisses you off. 

“Something’s been up with you for weeks Kook. Are you gonna keep that up? If you have a problem with me, you need to let me know.” You feel your frustration slowly turn into anger. You’ve been on the edge already. “C’mon, Jungkook, don’t fucking act like a stubborn mule and talk to me for fucks sake. What’s your problem?” You clearly expect him to not answer your question and walk away. Hence your surprise when he suddenly turns around like a flash. Even a surprised gasp leaves your mouth when he storms toward you. Closes the distance between you completely. 

“You want me to talk?” Questions. His jaw slack. You gulp harshly, clearly not expecting the sudden outburst. Still, you stay rooted in your place. Returning the glare he’s shooting at you. You hate fighting. You especially hate fighting with Jungkook. It’s not normal. But you need to know what the hell is going on inside his head. So, you give him a firm nod. 

“Yes, Jungkook. If you have a problem with me or anything else, you need to talk that shit out. Maybe I can help you.” You grumble. Jungkook lets out a bitter chuckle.

“Problem.” He mutters to himself. “You wanna know what my problem is?” Asks from you this time. You nod again. Glad that he’s finally about to talk. Yet what he says next leaves you even more confused. “You.” Jungkook shouts so loud that you visibly wince before a deep scowl adorns your face. You gape at him. Not understanding what he just said. 

You?

You’re his problem?

How and why? You open your mouth stupidly like a fish. Wanting to ask him what he meant but no words leave you. Too stunned to speak. Jungkook doesn’t wait for you to process that though. “You are my problem Noona.” He brings his face closer to you. “There you go. Now you know what my problem is. Happy?” Taunts. You feel an ache in your chest. Nothing too harsh. Not yet at least. You’re in too much of a shock to process it and feel pained. 

“J-Jungkook.” You finally manage to call him weakly. “Wh-what are you-”

“You wanted to know. So, I told you. You. Are. My. Problem.” Jungkook repeats through clenched teeth. And that ache finally deepens. Your shock subsiding and a deep pain replacing it. As if Jungkook has just stabbed you right across your chest. Of course, it hurts. Jungkook is someone who you have grown to adore. He’s basically a part of your life. It hurts like a bitch when he treats you like this. Especially when you have no idea what’s the reason. 

“Why? What did I do?” You question meekly. Your voice is barely audible. Jungkook’s hard face softens at that immediately. He sighs heavily. 

“Gosh Noona, just fucking-” Groans. “You’re my problem because you’re a fucking idiot who keeps falling into Park fucking Jimin’s trap. You’re my problem because I no longer know how to protect you.” He doesn’t yell anymore. Voice soft and visibly pained.

Your frown deepens at his words. Your confusion easing as your anger gets back to you again. That’s his reason. Well, you never asked him to protect you. You're a grown woman who can manage things yourself. You know Jungkook cares deeply but this is just too much.

“Well, then don’t try to protect me.” 

“That’s the exact fucking problem here.” He raises his voice again. “ I don’t know how not to. I don’t know a way to sit back and watch you fuck up. All because of what? Why the hell can’t you just ask him to fuck off? Why on the earth would you always let him play with your life?” 

Well, a few weeks ago, you would’ve wondered as to why you’re doing it as well. Now though, you know the answer. But you’re not sure whether you should tell Jungkook that now. You try to come up with an answer when Jungkook doesn’t let you. 

“Why are you doing it,Noona? When he always fucks up. He left you alone for God’s sake. He let you get slapped in front of a fucking club. He followed his girlfriend and left you to manage your own shit and after all those things, you just let him fuck with you even more. I was the one who saw you crying like it was the end of the damn world. If that one time hurts like that, then do you have any idea how much it would hurt in the future.” Jungkook looks you dead in the eye. Everything he says is true. But you can’t help it. You just can’t. You feel your eyes prick with unshed tears. Your chin is starting to wobble. “Jimin is a fucking douchebag who doesn’t deserve a second in your life and you know that too. He treats you as a piece of trash and you let him in when he just follows you around and simply says sorry?” 

“Well, I can’t fucking help it.” You allow those unshed tears to roll down. Jungkook’s words cut you through like a sharp blade. Jimin doesn’t treat you like that. When you’re together Jimin treats you like you’re his sun and moon. But to others, you’re certain this is how your relationship must look like. You’re the piece of meat he uses and tosses away. And it hurts. You don’t want Jungkook pointing it out to you among everyone. Not him. He promised to be on your side no matter what. 

“Why the fuck not?” Jungkook’s loud voice booms across his living room. You almost take a step back before you catch yourself. Emotions overwhelm you so much that you can’t help but crack. 

“Because I like him!” You match his voice in sound. “I like him so damn much that I can’t help it.” A loud sob breaks through your throat. And that’s the only sound that fills the air as everything else falls into a deafening silence. Jungkook exhales a shaky breath. Takes a step back. You watch as a visible tremble goes through his entire body. You don’t know why he appears more hurt than surprised. His entire face turning dull. A stretched minute passes just like that. Jungkook is just gaping at you and you are just waiting for him to tell you something. Anything. But it’s just his pained eyes peering at you. Until he breaks it. 

“Okay. Fine… Thought you said it was just physical.” He mumbles. 

“Well, it was at f-”

“I don’t care, Li.”

What?

Jungkook turns around. You jump into action as you grab his arm. “J-Jungkook, where are you-” He yanks his arm away from your hold.

“Just let me be alone, will you please? I just don’t want to talk with you.”

That’s all he says before he disappears inside the bedroom. Door closing loudly behind him. You blankly stare at the now closed door. Not understanding why he’s so mad. But it doesn’t make it less hurt. It hurts so much.

Fuck your life.

You turn around as you wipe the tears away roughly using your hoodie sleeve. 

If he needs to be alone, then you’ll respect it. 

You simply walk toward the front door, not knowing what you should do.

………………………….

Jungkook thinks he’s about to explode. The urge to break something is overwhelming. If he could just  beat someone into a pulp that would help maybe. No, not anyone but that certain someone with blonde hair and a killer smile. The motherfucking oh so great CEO of RUN. Does Jungkook give a fuck about who Jimin is? Not at all. Not a single fuck. If he could find him right now, he’d make sure that Park Jimin never smiles that way again. That’s how much anger is brewing inside Jungkook. So much that his head pounds. Your words echoing inside his skull.

Because I like him!

I like him so damn much that I can’t help it.

A loud groan leaves Jungkook’s throat as he grabs the coffee mug on his table. It’s unfortunate how the mug has to pay the price when Jungkook hurls it across the room. But he needs to break something. He needs a way to release his pent up frustration. It feels satisfactory when the mug shatters into tiny pieces when it hits the wall. Only for a split second though. It’s clearly not enough. He can destroy this entire room if he wants to. Maybe then he’d feel satisfied. Or not. Either way Mrs. Kim won’t be happy to see the damage. Jungkook rubs his face frustratingly before dropping into his desk chair. 

He just needs to relax.

Deep breaths maybe. 

And fuck, breathing hurts. His chest hurts. He knows it’s not physical. But it certainly does feel physical. The squeeze in his heart. He absolutely doesn't want his anger to morph into pain. No. But that’s what is happening. It hurts so much. So damn much his sight is getting blurry with tears. There’s a lump forming in his throat. 

“Fuck!” Jungkook curses aloud. His cheap desk lamp faces the same fate as his mug when he sweeps it off the table. 

He can’t cry.

He doesn't want to cry.

Why does it even  hurt this way? It’s fucking ridiculous. It’s not like you and he have been in love or something. It’s just a stupid crush. And maybe, just maybe he knew this was coming all along. That you were starting to fall for that motherfucker. Of course, he knew. He saw that happen but he just decided to ignore it. Turn a blind eye just because he was too selfish to let go. He chose to believe your words for it. When you said you don’t like Jimin, Jungkook decided to just hang onto that hope. Who was he kidding? You were always too worried. Too heart broken. Too invested. Signs were always there. But he didn’t want to acknowledge them. 

Even now, when you had admitted it with your own mouth, Jungkook doesn’t want to believe it. To him it feels like Jimin has lured you into that. Like it’s not your fault but entirely Jimin’s. Jimin does not fucking deserve you. He puts you through so much pain probably because you’re a good fuck to him. Hell, Jimin probably doesn't like you. It pains Jungkook to think how you still want Jimin. 

Why the fuck does it have to be like this? Why can’t it be easy? 

Jungkook curls his fists into tight balls as the squeeze in his heart intensifies. 

This is the most pain he’s been in after his so- called ex broke up with him to follow her dreams. This is exactly why J and Namjoon were worried. Jungkook always gets too attached. Too smitten. And he always ends up being heart broken. Just like this. What’s most pathetic is how he never even had a chance. You don’t even know what’s happening. You must be so damn confused why he is so rude to you. You don’t know that he’s not just being a good friend. 

He cares about you. Of course, he does. He doesn’t want to see you hurt and crying. It hurts him too. But also, he wants you to want him too. How much of a beautiful dream it would be. But it’s too late now isn’t it? 

Funny, how he thought he’d actually have a chance. How he had thought you’d actually end things with Jimin. Oh, how he wanted to kill Jimin that day at the restaurant. He knew you had given yourself to Jimin yet again, the moment you came back inside the kitchen. Can you blame him for being mad? Ignoring you because it had hurt him? Waiting just to see if you’d put effort for him? You did, yes. But at what cost, though? Look at him now. 

Jungkook takes a deep breath. Blinking back the tears. There’s no reason to cry. It’s just a silly crush and it’d go away. He just liked you and you don’t like him in return. That’s how sometimes the world works and he needs to accept it. Now since you’ve told him yourself that you like Jimin, he should let you go. Maybe he’ll learn not to care too much and everything will be fine. He can be the friend you want him to be. Right?

Yes, of course. Everything’s going to be fine.

Jungkook averts his gaze to the window by the table. He has his curtains pulled aside but there’s no light coming through them. Outside is too gloomy. Harsh rain drops are beating against his window. Rain has swelled into a deafening cascade. 

Wait!

Jungkook perks up suddenly in alert. Glancing back at his closed bedroom door. He sure did hear the front door opening and closing. A warning alarm starts to ring inside his head. You left the apartment for sure. But where did you go? It’s fucking down pouring. Did you go to the restaurant? If you did then that’s fine but what if you- stupid stubborn brat- have gone outside. Jungkook stands up abruptly. Worry etching into his whole body. 

So much for learning how not to care too much. Will he ever be able to learn that? 

Will he?

Jungkook takes a minute. A minute to think you are in danger. Hurt. Physically or mentally. A shiver runs down his spine at the prospect. Your pained face flashes across his mind. The way you had looked at him when he called you Li. The way you called after him and your vain attempt to stop him. The hurt in your eyes. Fuck! He hurt you. And above all the fucked up emotions he’s feeling, guilt roars. 

He hurt you. 

Jungkook stumbles toward the door in a rush. Not even knowing where he’s going as he storms out of the apartment. 

……………………..

A breath of relief escapes Jungkook’s lips just as he enters the back alley of Kim's restaurant and his eyes fall upon your curled figure on an empty beer crate. A cigarette between your fingers as you exhale a slow drag. The heavy rain pelting the asphalt roads sends tiny splashes around, wetting your small figure. Jungkook clenches his jaw out of frustration. It had taken him a good ten minutes to find you. Mrs. Kim was the one who finally pointed him in the right direction. And you’ve been here this whole time getting drenched like an idiot?

“Are you a fucking idiot?” Jungkook walks toward you with furrowed brows. You jerk as you turn your head toward him. That’s when he catches the redness in your eyes. Puffy. His heart aches painfully. He’s the one who made you cry. Not Jimin. He’s just like Jimin, after all. Hurting you. Jungkook hides his pain behind the mask of annoyance as he grabs another empty crate and turns it upside down. “Can’t you see it’s fucking raining? What the hell are you doing here dressed like that and-” He rakes his eyes over your figure. You’ve not even wearing any shoes for fucks sake. “- God, it’s cold Noona, you’ll get sick.” Sits on the crate. Examining your features. You say nothing. Just look away. Nor do you protest when Jungkook steals your cigarette. “Yah!” So, Jungkook has to make you look at him. He does it by grabbing your chin. You still don’t say anything but just gaping at him. Then you push his hand away. 

“Thought you wanted to be alone.” Finally speak. Eyes back on the road. 

“Yes, and I changed my mind.” Jungkook takes a drag from the cigarette before he throws it to a puddle near him. 

“Yah!” Your whiny protest is drowned out by a loud thunder. “That’s the last one I had.” Yet you continue to complain.

“It’s okay. I have a pack with me. Let’s go inside, hm?” He eyes you apologetically. You pout adorably. Don’t answer his question, however. 

“Why did you change your mind?” You ask instead. 

“You know why Noona. Because I care too fucking much.” A silence falls. Stretches.

“I really don’t want you to care, Jungkook.”

“Well, I already told you once that it’s not up to you to decide. It’s up to me.”

“Then don’t fucking get mad at me because I don’t know what to do either. I can’t fucking-”

“Help it. Yes, I know.” Jungkook completes for you. Not because he doesn’t want to listen to you. But because he knows. He knows you can’t help it. Just like he can’t help it either. You turn your glassy eyes toward him. You’re about to cry again. You’re hurting. Jungkook feels his feigned annoyance evaporate into thin air. He throws his arm around you. Drags you into his side. You snuggle against him immediately. “I know you can’t, baby. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have-” Jungkook has to swallow hard to get rid of the lump in his throat. “- yelled at you. It’s not your fault. I’m sorry.” 

“I really don’t want to fight with you Kookie. Don’t want you to be mad at me. Don’t want to lose you either. You’re so precious to me.” You mumble against his chest. He tightens his grip on you. 

“I know, Noona.” He presses a gentle kiss in your hair. He knows exactly how you use the word precious. You’re just telling him how important he is to you as a friend. A fucking friend. Only if you knew the truth, though. The way he wants to kiss you hard now. Hard enough that you’d forget any other man’s name but his. It’s not fair on you really. He had lashed out on you earlier because he was so hurt to hear you say that you like someone else who’s not him. Because he likes you. Too much. And it’s not your fault. But he can’t tell you that now, can he?

He should. He should let you know what a messed up situation this is. Should let you decide what you’re going to do. Then there's his selfish part. He cares about you dearly, but at the same time he doesn’t want to let you go. Even when he knows you like Jimin. Even when he knows he is just a friend to you. He doesn’t want to. He still wants to keep you with him someway. It’ll hurt even more if he does that. To see you with Jimin. Still, Jungkook wants loads of moments just like now. With you. Just you and him. How selfish. 

Jungkook places his chin on your head. Looking past you. A moment ago he was so hurt that he thought it’s really time he should let go. Until now. At this moment when he finds solace in you. Peaceful. Painful, yes but also peaceful. Fuck everything else and future heartbreaks. If Jimin can be fucking selfish, then he can too. He’s not just going to let you go. No. Because he can’t. He’s too fucked up. Can’t even imagine how it’d be to not have you in his place. It’s already hard in the days you’re not here. So, yes. He’s messed up everything already.

He’s in trouble. He likes you a little too much. And he’s ready to fight. So is he ready to get hurt and pretend like he’s mad just because he cares. “I’m so sorry.” He mumbles again. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I know but Jimin isn’t going to hurt me. Not intentionally anyway.” You finally raise your head. Jungkook lets you reluctantly. He wants to laugh at your words. Doesn’t, however. Just scoffs. 

“We’ll see about that. I mean, I’m on your side like I always said but,” He looks at your tear stained face. “I’m gonna break his bones one of these days. I’m on your side, not his. He’s still a fucking shithole and someone needs to knock some sense into him.” Looks away from you. 

“Yah! You won’t do such a thing, Jeon Jungkook.” You nudge him with your shoulder. Jungkook just looks at you with a stern face. “I mean, he does things..uh.. but he has his reasons.” You reason weakly. Oh, how Jungkook hates when you defend Jimin. 

“Yeah? Like what?” You don’t answer that. “Exactly what I thought.” Jungkook doesn’t want to be rude to you. But can’t help but pointing you at the truth either. For selfish reasons, of course. Your face falls. Oh, fuck he doesn’t like to see you upset. “Okay, then I won’t break all of his bones, just one maybe.” Jungkook sighs heavily as he adds. He’s in no mood to joke. Yet he wants to lift up yours. Wants to make you laugh. It doesn’t give the desired effect, however. You scowl deeply at him. “Oh c,mon,he has 206. I can totally break one and that’s not a big deal.” He rolls his eyes. You gape at him for a minute before a laugh slips through your beautiful lips. 

“Oh my god, Jungkook. You’re the fucking worst.” You shove him away. Playfully. And Jungkook really can’t help the way his mouth stretched into a wide grin. It’s scary how you can do that to him. Well, he’s not going to dwell on that. This is going to end very badly. But until then he’s going to be selfish and keep you. Makes you happy and be the shoulder you come to cry. He’d not think about his own sanity. He’s fucking crazy anyway. So fucked up. 

Jungkook snakes an arm around your figure again. You rest your head on his shoulder. “But seriously, Noona, I’m so sorry for- uh- earlier-”

“You don’t have to apologize, Kookie.”

“Yeah? How about Ice cream then?”

“Hm, that sounds acceptable.” A soft giggle escapes you. 

“Deal.” Jungkook mutters. “Oh, and Tae wants us to hang out at his place tonight. Dinner or something. And he specifically said drinks are on him. I think he wants to pay back Namjoon since those animals just inhaled all the alcohol that day.” He quickly adds. You straighten up immediately. 

“Really? And you want to go? I thought you don’t like any of them. You looked like you wanted to kill Tae.” You blink at his face confused. To tell the truth, Jungkook doesn’t like them. Because Taehyung and the rest are helping Jimin to ruin you. Helping Jimin to take you away from him. But if he thinks about it, if it wasn’t for that, Jungkook would have become best buddies with Taehyung. Jungkook likes Taehyung. Or at least he did before all this. Their energy just matches. So, he thinks maybe he'd be able to look past everything. Besides, you look like you need all the distractions in the world. 

“Yes. I want to go. I mean free drinks Noona. Who’s gonna turn that down? Not me for sure.” He gives you a smug look. You accept that excuse. “And if I have time, I’ll find a way to kill our host. Now-” Jungkook stands up from the crate. Holds his hand for you. You take it without questions. “-let’s just bribe you with Ice cream.” He pulls you to your feet. 

You giggle adorably.

Jungkook thinks his heart just exploded. 

………………………..

There were two main reasons for you to be excited about a hang-out at Taehyung’s place. Much needed distraction and a fun night was obviously the second reason. Your first and main reason for wanting to be here tonight undoubtedly was Jimin. You expected to see Jimin for the first time after weeks at Taehyung’s place. You were giddy and excited like a silly school girl about the prospect. Butterflies were swarming inside your tummy as you got ready for the night. Beautifully. Putting up extra effort to appear a little bit more sexy than you already were. You didn’t even want a chance to talk with Jimin. No need of hearing any explanations. You just wanted to see him. Wanted to see the way he beams to see you back. A little boyish smile from him. 

But now when you’re here. Sitting at Taehyung’s couch, obviously third wheeling two J’s- Jin and J- you feel utterly stupid. Oh, so stupid. There’s not a sign of Park Jimin. At first you thought he’s just late. It’s been more than two hours now, however. At this rate you’re positive that he isn't attending. How ridiculous. All the effort you put in is for nothing. 

You throw a sneaky glance at your phone. You have texted him like five times now. No reply. Not for a single one. Oh, how you want to scream. You’re getting restless. This puts you on edge. It makes you sad if he’s not going to be here but what makes you mad is the fact that he’s ignoring you. The night is going to be exhausting for you. At least Jungkook is enjoying himself. You look at him at the other corner of the living room. Being so enamoured about Taehyung’s little figurine collection. Despite claiming he didn’t like Taehyung, he seemed to be getting along with him quite well. Is clinging to Taehyung at his hip. 

Funny thing. Jungkook is. 

As though he sensed your stares Jungkook turns around at the right moment. Meeting your eyes and beaming. “Noona. Have you seen this? This little shit has the entire collection of Eclipse Vanguard.” Walks toward you with a figurine that looks like a frog. A frog eating a sandwich. You throw a skeptical glance at it when Jungkook holds it for you. You don’t know what that movie is. But have heard Jungkook talk about it before. 

“I’ll pretend that I didn’t hear you calling me a little shit.” Taehyung grumbles as he joins you two. Both you and Jungkook ignore him. 

“Why’s it a frog and why is the damn frog eating a sandwich?” You inspect the figurine on your hands. 

“That’s the snack guardian. That’s why he’s eating a sandwich.” Jungkook plops next to you on the couch with a grin. You snort loudly. Guardian of what now? Open your mouth to tell him how ridiculous that sounds when Taehyung interrupts you. 

“Wait? You haven’t watched Eclipse Vanguard? How’s that even possible?” He questions in disbelief. Sits at the armchair right across from you. A glass of whiskey in his hand. 

Oh, fuck!

You stare at his face dumbly for a second before averting your gaze to Jungkook. In hope that he’d save you from the situation. He does.

“Why not? She doesn’t like that movie.” Jungkook states, matter of factly. Even nods to prove his point. You agree with Jungkook by violently nodding. 

“Yes. I hate it.” Add just for the sake of it. Taehyung lets out a loud gasp in offense. Turns his mouth into a wide ‘o’ and clutches his chest. Tries to say something when Yoona butts in. 

“Really? You hate it? I mean, as a person who loves art, I normally don’t watch shitty movies but I loved the Eclipse V. Series. Not so bad.” She hands over another drink to Namjoon before sitting on his lap. Taehyung is apparently showering everyone with drinks. And everyone seems to be in a good mood. Except you, of course. 

“No, no. It’s the shittiest I’ve ever seen.” J suddenly perks up. Leans forward so she can look at you over Jin. “If you haven’t seen it yet, Li, just trust me, don’t watch it.” 

“Yah! Do. Not. Fucking. Shit. Talk about my favourite movie.” Jungkook bellows as he throws a cushion at J, which Jin catches easily.

“But it is the shittiest. I can’t even understand why you guys like it.” J flips off Jungkook before turning his attention to Jin. “Don’t tell me you like it too?” Questions. Jin opens his mouth awkwardly. Just to close it back and give J a sheepish smile. 

“If you tell you don’t like it Hyung, I’m gonna burn your entire CD collection and steal your figurines.” Hoseok mindlessly says as he’s scrolling through his phone. The guy looks surprisingly sober compared to other gatherings you’ve had before. Yoongi snorts. “You have a collection too?” Asks Jin smugly when Jin groans. Ignores Yoongi.

“I’d like to see you try stealing my collection Hobi. In case you don’t know I can be pretty violent if I want to.”

Everyone breaks into stating their own opinions following that. Someone arguing why Seokjin would never be violent while someone going on about why Eclipse Vanguard is a good movie. None of it makes any sense and is not related to each other. Yet, it’s getting heated, nonetheless. Taehyung even has to sit up and guard his little figurines from J. Jungkook joins him as well. A small smile graces over your lips at the sudden chaos in the wonderland as your eyes drift to your empty wine glass. You’ve already downed flour glasses. Are getting there while already being more than tipsy. But you’re up to get drunk until your vision turns black tonight.

You get up on your feet while Jin tries to explain to an offended J, why she has an awful taste. 

“Well, if I have a bad taste, then what does that tell about you, Mr. Kim. Seok. Jin. You’re obviously one of my choices and are you telling me that you’re an awful one.” J tilts her head sassily as you pass her. 

You quickly glance at Jungkook to check if he wants another drink but he’s busy creating a pillow fortress around Taehyung’s figurines. Drunk. Is already drunk. Just like Taehyung. Two men are giggling like teenage girls. You shake your head as you walk past everyone toward the kitchen. Namjoon and Yoona are in their own world while Hoseok and Yoongi are in a serious conversation. You guess the topic of that very serious conversation is about the same movie. 

You enter the silent and empty kitchen. You’ve had pizza for dinner. Empty pizza boxes are still lying on the kitchen counter, surrounded by different liquor bottles. Seoyeon isn’t going to be happy about the mess. You pick up the red wine bottle thinking that you should get this cleaned before you leave. 

When you asked Taehyung about Seoyeon’s whereabouts he had just vaguely mumbled she had work. No one questioned anything more. 

You fill the glass to the brim with expensive wine. Well, you want to get drunk and Taehyung is giving you free drinks. Who can complain? You sip your drink a little as you turn around to join the crowd again. Only to come into a dead halt and jump in your spot at the sudden figure just appears in front of you. 

“Holy shit!” You curse aloud as some of the wine spills onto your black top. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry.” Jimin blurts out as he grabs some tissues. Walking directly toward you and starting to dab at your blouse, right away. You just peer at his face with an open mouth. 

Oh!

Jimin.

He’s here finally. Jimin made it.

You feel that giddy sensation inside you. Almost makes you grin wide but you catch yourself. He’s here. But he hasn’t replied to your texts and has been putting you on the edge. You click your tongue in annoyance. Snatch the tissues from Jimin’s hand, making the poor guy startle. 

“I can do it myself.” You grumble. Start to dab away the spilled wine from your top. Trying not to look at Jimin but he makes your attempt futile by softly grabbing your chin. Tilt your face upward. Peers at your eyes.

“Hey!” Mumbles oh, so softly that you’re positive you just melted into a little puddle. Your annoyance starts to dissipate under his warm gaze. You hate the effect he has on you. “Someone’s in a mood.” Jimin adds. Gives you an amused smile. Bites on his bottom lip that you can’t help but drop your gaze into his pink lips. 

“I am in a mood. You didn’t even reply to me.” You pout. Now you look at him closely and carefully, you can see how tired he looks. There’s that glint in his eyes but he looks exhausted. You can understand he has a job to do. And maybe you  shouldn’t give him a hard time too. So, you sigh heavily, ready to apologize and say that it’s okay. Jimin beats you to it, however. His amused smile vanishes. Entire expression turns so serious that you feel your stomach churn uncomfortably. A prickle of sensation that something isn’t right engulfs you whole. 

“I’m sorry. I had to uh…” You flicker your gaze between Jimin’s brown orbs. Waiting patiently for him to tell you what happened while he hesitates. You want him to tell you. You want to know. Not because you’re nosy and curious but it makes you happy to think that Jimin tells you about his problems. How funny. But you need that. Yet his next words make you regret ever wanting to know that at all. “Was with Liya’s family. A dinner.” Jimin drops his hand down. 

You feel your stomach drop. 

“Oh!” That’s all you could come up with. There’s a sudden bitterness in your tongue. Your blood starts to boil. 

Jealousy! 

There’s no way you can deny it anymore. No way you can mistake it as something else. You’re undoubtedly, unmistakably are getting fucking jealous. Well, of course, you are. You like Park Jimin. A lot in that case. Anything and everything that has him to do with another girl makes you burn with jealousy. Even though you have no right to. Jimin would think you’re crazy if he ever knew. So, you bite inside your cheeks to calm yourself. Try to say it’s cool when a sudden voice interrupts you. 

“No Seoyeon, I can’t drink tonight. It’s an early morning tomorrow.” You recognize the voice right away. Jimin steps away from you. Just a little. You pretend that it doesn't hurt you when Seoyoen enters the kitchen first, closely followed by Kim Liya. Why would you even be surprised? This is Seoyeon’s place and Liya is going to be here. That doesn’t make you feel any better, however.  

Seoyeon stops dead at the track right as her eyes land on you. Liya stops behind her. Her eyes darting between you and Jimin. You feel small under the attention. 

“Why are you here?” Seoyeon questions with a sharp edge in her voice. Heat rushes to your face instantly. 

Oh, how embarrassing. You don’t even know how to answer her.

“Probably because she’s invited.” Jimin answers on your behalf. Which you don’t appreciate much by the way Seoyeon throws him a scandalous look. A moment passes. 

“Why are you speaking for her? She can’t talk?” Seoyeon scoffs. “It’s okay Seo.” Liya breaths out. Steps around Seoyeon to walk toward the drinks. You throw a skeptical glance at her. Seoyeon, however, isn’t ready to listen to her best friend, it seems. 

“It’s not okay, Liya.” She mumbles before pointing a finger toward you. “You.” She grits. “How fucking dare you come here, after all the shits you’ve done? To my place at that? After you went behind my best friend's back? What kind of a sister are you? And you have the fucking audacity to step inside my house-”

“Okay, shut the fuck up Seoyoen. It’s none of your fucking business.” You wince when Jimin’s sudden voice booms across the spacious kitchen. 

“How’s that not my business? This is my house for fucks sake!”

“Then ask your damn boyfriend why he invited her.” A silence falls. For a second before Taehyung breaks it by barging in. Just by the look on his face, you know people heard the commotion inside the kitchen. Taehyung is scowling deeply and his jaw is slack when he makes it next to Seoyeon. 

“What’s happening?” He asks Jimin. Jimin chuckles. In a very taunting way. “Ask your rude little girlfriend. You forgot to get her permission before inviting people here.” Jimin glares at Seoyeon so hard that you worry she’d actually burn for a minute. Taehyung throws Jimin a look in displeasure. It’s a low blow, after all. 

“I don’t need anyone’s permission to invite my friends to my place.” Taehyung puts extra emphasis in the last few words. Averts his gaze to his girlfriend. Seoyeon doesn’t look back at him. Her eyes are still on you. You feel beyond uncomfortable at this rate. And that intensifies when you catch Jungkook entering the kitchen. A murderous glare in his eyes. This is not good. You don’t want anyone to fight. 

“Yeah? But you can’t fucking invite sluts to our home, Kim Taehyung.”

“What the fuck did you say?” Jimin steps forward just a second before Jungkook does. You just want to shrink. Want the floor to split open and swallow you whole. 

“I called her a slut, Jimin. Why? Does that bother you?”

“For fucks sake Seoyeon, will you just shut up?��� Teahyung doesn’t let Jimin tell anything else. You feel your head spin. Seoyeon yells something that doesn’t quite reach your ears. So does Taehyung. You wander your gaze from the fighting couple to Jungkook. Just standing there like an animal ready to attack his prey any minute. 

God this is not good.

You notice with your blurry gaze that the rest of your friends have made it to the kitchen as well. Great! Now you’re making a fool out of yourself in front of everyone, again. You’re causing chaos everywhere you go. The argument is getting heated by every passing minute. You need to end this. Or at least you need to remove the cause of this stupid fight. Which is you. 

“I’ll just leave.” You shout over everyone’s voice. Everything falls into silence at once. All eyes are dropping on you. “Kookie, can we go?” You ask Jungkook. Don’t wait for his answer as you almost step away. Almost since even before you can take a step forward, Jimin’s hand grabs your wrist tightly.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

What?

You feel your heart beating in your throat. This is ridiculous. See now, you’d be very glad that Jimin is standing with you. Defending you. Taking your side. But at this moment, you think it’d do more harm than any good. The way Jin’s- who’s standing behind a horrified looking J- face tightens is the best proof for that. These people might have forgiven your sins once but now you’re sure they’d just want to kill you with their bare hands. 

“Jimin.” You whisper yells to no avail. Jimin gives you a look. You’re getting embarrassed. 

“Gosh, this is-” Seoyeon rakes her fingers through her raven hair. “Why the fuck are you just watching this Liya?” Suddenly turns to Liya. Who’s been awfully quiet all these times. Hell, you nearly even forgot her. You turn your head toward her to catch her just sipping wine. 

Really?

She straightens up when attention falls on her. “What? It’s not like that anyone would listen to anyone, anyway.” She shrugs. Looks like she’s made a point but no one seems impressed. “Okay.” So, she sighs after a beat. Looks at Jimin. “I mean, it’s good that my boyfriend is sticking up to my family.” States as a smile spreads across her face. You feel Jimin tense beside you. Something is wrong. “I really appreciate you taking my side Seo,” Liya averts her eyes to Seoyeon again. “But, it's a little rude and impolite that you’re asking to leave a guest who’s clearly invited here.” Places her wine glass away. 

Okay, now this doesn’t make any sense. What the fuck is Liya doing. Even Seoyeon looks baffled. Her entire face turns red. Opens and closes her mouth like a goldfish. “Are you serious, right now?” Mutters almost inaudibly.

“Yes. Very. Besides, even though I didn’t expect to see my sister here, I’m glad that you’re here.” Liya pays her full attention to you now. Her eyes flicker to where Jimin is touching you. It feels like her gaze can burn you. You get the urge to yank your hand away but Jimin doesn’t allow you. “Since you miss the family dinner and all.” She smiles again. A smile that oozes venom. You watch her smug expression. Not exactly knowing whether you want to hear what she has to say or not. Before anything, however, Jimin steps up. Drags you behind him. As if he’s afraid that Liya’d hit you again.

“Not now, Liya!” States sternly. That voice doesn’t do anything to falter Liya’s smile, though. 

“Why not? She’s family. She deserves to know it. And so does everyone here. Taehyung here would be heartbroken if you hide something so important from him, baby.” Liya gestures to Taehyung, who’s looking at Jimin intently. 

“Okay, what’s going on?” Seoyeon is the one who raises the question, however. Liya gives Jimin a ‘see what I said’ kind of look. Jimin ignores her. Turns to you. Looks past you and glance at the still very dangerously calm and collected Jungkook. 

“You’re both drunk. Let me drop you both off.” Mumbles. You know he’s trying to avoid whatever Liya is about to say. And for some reason, you don’t want to listen to that either. You nod lightly and almost turn to Jungkook to see if he agrees when Liya chuckles. 

“We’re getting engaged.” Her voice comes out loud and clear. Enough to be heard by everyone in the vicinity. And you freeze. Completely. Your ears start to ring and your heart beat slows down.

They are doing, what now?

“Wait? What?” You don’t know who asks that. Maybe, Hoseok. Or Taehyung.

“Engaging? When? Why all of a sudden?” That’s definitely Jin and he steps all the way inside the kitchen. You look at Jimin. Confused. He looks stressed. Pissed but also guilty. That’s not good. 

“No. It’s not-” Jimin starts only to get interrupted. 

“No? Oh, but I thought we both agreed, Jimin. When my parents asked about it?” Liya steps toward Jimin and he finally lets go of your hand. His full attention on Liya. 

“You agreed, not me.” Jimin shouts.

“Then what? Did you say no? I didn’t hear you say no.”

“Wait? Just tell us what’s the fucking rush?” Hoseok butts in. His voice is serious. You don’t want to be here. 

“There’s no rush Hoseok. We’ve been together for like five years and my parents think it’s time. I think it’s time.” Liya answers Hoseok dismissively. You want to go. 

“Can we fucking talk about this later? This is ridiculous that you brought this up in front of everyone.” Jimin grabs Liya’s attention back to him. “I just announced the happy news, Jimin.” Liya counters. 

Happy news!

How funny that you don’t see a single happy person here. Half looks surprised, Seoyeon being the most surprised one. And the other half looks angry, Jimin being the most angered one. This is humiliating. You don’t know what other people are thinking about you. Do they pity you? Disgust you? 

You just want to leave. 

Well, no one’s stopping you right now. Jimin is no longer holding you. You can leave. You turn to Jungkook instantly. Don’t give a fuck about what’s happening here anymore. It doesn’t matter anyway. It hurts, yes. So damn much but you think this is how it’s always meant to end. You were and always will be the other woman. You shouldn’t have let Jimin drag you back into this mess. Maybe Jungkook is right. Jimin is playing you skillfully. 

“Kookie, let’s leave.” You mumble to Jungkook. Jungkook perks up. His expression is unreadable. He says nothing, however. Just nods. 

You turn to Liya at the same time Jimin turns to you. “Congratulations, you both!” You mutter looking between Jimin and Liya. You don’t want to appear weak. You like Jimin but only you and Jungkook know. You think it’s embarrassing to let other people know the truth as well. It’s better to keep your dignity and walk away like this is nothing. You force yourself to smile. 

“No, what? Lil, no. I’ll just- wait for me, I’ll drop you both off.” Jimin tries again to stop you but you avoid his hands successfully this time. 

“No need Jimin. We’ll take a cab. Just- uh.. Yeah, see you guys later.” You bow lightly to everyone. Yes, you can pretend everything’s fine and leave. Can cry later and nobody would ever know how hurt you are. As long as they don’t know it’s not humiliating. Jimin, however, doesn’t appear to understand at all. 

“No, fuck no. I’m coming with you or you’re staying here.” You look at the way that familiar fire inside his eyes. And that fire ignites the gasoline inside you. You feel your nerves lit up. How dare he think he can demand you? After everything? Yet before you can say anything else a hand comes landing on Jimin’s chest firmly.

“She said she wants to leave, asshole.” Jungkook shouts at the same time he pushes Jimin back. Gets Jimin in surprise that he loses his balance for a minute before he catches himself. Then before you know it he's grabbing from Jungkook’s t-shirt. 

“The fuck is your problem, Jeon. Fucking stay away.” Jimin grits. Pushes Jungkook too. A shiver runs through you. Jungkook mutters something incoherent as he lashes at Jimin. This time Jimin being ready to avoid it and fight back but you step between them immediately. 

“No. Kook. No..” You place your hand on his chest. 

“Fucking stay away Noona.” Jungkook doesn’t listen to you. So, you have no other options but to yell.

“Fucking stop acting like a kid, will you?” It works. He halts. Turns his furious glare at you. Takes a minute then a soft chuckle leaves him. “I want to leave. Just fucking go.” That’s all you say before you grab his hand. Starting to storm away. Jimin says something else in panic. You’re positive he tries to follow you. Last thing you hear is Taehyung stopping him.

“Let them leave Jimin. Not like you’re gonna solve this mess, anyway.”

Exactly! 

He’s not going to solve this mess at all.

……………………..

The entire cab ride into Jungkook’s place happened in silence. In deafening silence but the tension and the anger brewing inside both of you screamed so palpable it felt almost audible.

You were mad at lots of things. Mad at yourself for falling into Jimin’s spell again when you knew deep down that it would never end well. Mad that you allow yourself to walk into this mess. Fall for Jimin. You’re mad at Jimin for being so selfish. For giving you false promises about everything getting better one day when he probably doesn’t even like you. Mad at Jimin for acting that way in front of everyone and making them hate you even more. Mad at Jimin for making you like him when you have no hopes at all. 

Then you’re mad at Jungkook. For trying to fight Jimin like a mad cow when it wasn’t his battle to fight. For letting his emotions get the best of him.For making you feel and appear weak. Making you look like you can’t stand up for yourself. But above all you’re mad at this stupid situation that has put you in this mess. 

Fuck everything.

You are still vibrating with your anger by the time you enter Jungkook’s house behind him. You close the door behind you. Glare at his retreating figure. Not even caring to remove his shoes. 

“Remove your fucking shoes, Joen.” You shout, making him stop. Just for him to ignore you and continue walking. “Yah!” You kick away your own shoes. Follow after Jungkook to stop him by grabbing his arm. “You’re making a mess of the floor.” You turn him around. 

“And why the fuck would you care?” He matches your voice. 

“Because you’re dirtying the floor.” Both of you know that you don’t give a damn about the floor. You’re just trying to pick up a fight. And you feel frustrated when Jungkook just removes his shoes without a word. Steps out of them. 

“Happy?” Asks. Starts to walk away again. You feel like crying due to the burning anger inside you. 

“Why did you do that?” You just won’t let Jungkook off the hook that easily. It’s not fair really. Sweet Jungkook doesn’t deserve to be the target of your wrath for many different things. But you’re too deep in your emotions to care. 

“Did what?” Jungkook breaths out. 

“Fight Jimin?”

“Really?” Jungkook turns around again. “Well, I did tell you that I’m going to break his bones one of these days, didn’t I? And that fucker need to know his place. I don’t give a fuck about his status or anything else Noona. He just can’t demand you around like that when he’s the one in the wrong. Who the fuck does he think he is?”

“I could’ve handled it perfectly fine by myself. I don’t want you to fucking fight on my behalf.” 

“Then fucking do it, dammit.” Jungkook closes the distance between you like a flash. Cups your cheeks and pushes you back so fast that you don’t even register your back has hit the wall. “Then do it. Call him now, ask him to fuck off and leave you alone. Tell him that it’s fucking over. You didn’t fight for yourself, Noona. You just stood there looking like a broken doll. You were so worried and looking forward to seeing him  when he was planning his damn engagement. And then you just congratulate them? What the fucking is wrong with you? Why are you letting them belittle you that way?”

“I-I..” You try to come up with something. Just to realize that you don’t know what to say. You didn’t know that you looked broken that moment, after all. 

“I don’t even get why you like Jimin, anyway. He’s a rude asshole like I always said. Why do you like him, Noona? What the fuck does he have? He made you cum so hard that you fell in love with him?” Jungkook brings his face inches closer to you. You gulp harshly. “Well, guess what, he’s not the only one who can do that. I can do it, you know. I can make you cum harder than him and can treat you way fucking better.” 

“Ju-jungkook.” You feel dumb. Stunned. Completely speechless. Among everything, this is something you’ve expected the least. What’s Jungkook even talking about? No. No, he can’t be serious. 

“I can do it all better, Noona.” Jungkook’s raised voice suddenly drops. Whispers against your mouth, instead. That’s the only warning you get before you feel his soft lips on yours. Harsh. Hard. Instantly falling into moving against your mouth. A surprised gasp leaves you as your eyes go wide. It takes your fogged mind a damn minute to register what’s happening. Too surprised. When it does, an alarm blares in your mind. 

No. No. Not Jungkook. 

You bring up a hand to push him away by his chest. Or at least try to. Jungkook just grabs that hand and holds it to your side, firmly. Not breaking your kiss. 

No… you can’t do this. This is Jungkook. He’s too precious. You can’t allow a single mistake to ruin things between you. 

Jungkook deepens the kiss. Muffles your weak protests. Bites onto your lower lip. Seek entrance into your mouth but when you don’t give it, he finally breaks apart. 

“Noona, please.” He whines. Pleads. “Just let’s try one time.” Kisses the corner of your mouth. “Please.”

An involuntary shiver runs through your body. 

No, no, no. You shouldn’t even think about this. It’s your Jungkook. 

Then Jimin’s smile flashes across your mind.

You shouldn’t do this at all.

“C’mon baby, let me show you.” Jungkook inches his trail of kisses down toward your neck. Wet and sensual. You can’t help but whimper. Your head starts spinning. Alcohol in your system makes the electricity you’re feeling intensifies. You’re drunk and angry. If you do this, it’s going to be a huge mistake. But it feels good. And you can’t deny how attractive Jungkook is. He is no Jimin but still he’s a godly looking man and you’re just a woman. Besides, a distraction can do you good. A way to release this anger. It’s not like you’re obliged for Jimin, are you? If he can fucking plan on an engagement while you were pathetically waiting for his explanation, then you’re allowed to do anything you want. And Jungkook wants this too. He’s the one asking and begging. 

You allow another beat to pass before you tangle your fingers in his black hair locks. Pull from them to get him facing you. Don’t even let Jungkook comprehend what’s happening as you attack his lips with yours. This time you don’t wait till he seeks entrance. Just push your tongue past his lips without any reluctance from his side. Jungkook groans in appreciation. Starts kissing you like he’s lost his mind. Rough and hard. Like he wants everything from you. Never breaks the intense kiss when he slips his hands past your ass. Toward your thighs. You moan aloud which he swallows when he picks you up from the floor easily. You tangle your legs around his waist. Keep kissing him ignoring your lungs’ protests until he walks both of you toward the couch.

Jungkook drops you into the couch. Bending down with you and still not breaking the kiss. You expect him to push you into your back and get on top of you. Then for much of your dismay, he just breaks the kiss. A trail of saliva connecting your kiss bitten lips. You whine in complaint when he smiles wickedly. But also somehow innocently. Kisses your throat. A shudder ripples through you. 

“Gonna fucking worship you baby.” Kisses your shoulder. “Gonna treat you so well.” Kisses your nipple over your top. Your back arches. 

“Kookie.”

“Treat you so so well.” Kisses your stomach. You tread your fingers in his hair again. Nearly comes on the spot when he goes into his knees. He urges your legs apart by your ankles. Bends them on your knees. Your skirt bunches up around your waist. He places a hard kiss into your pulsing core over your skirt. Rubs your thighs softly before bringing his hands closer toward the waistband of your panties. “Let me, baby.” Looks at you with the most hungriest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. Waits for your approval. You nod almost frantically. “Thankyou.” Jungkook mumbles. Drags your panties down through your legs. 

You moan at the sensation of cool air at your heated core first. Then you moan at the way Jungkook’s eyes darken at the sight of your core. He audibly moans. Fucking moans.

“Holy shit, Jungkook.” You rasp while you feel a little shy under his scrutinising gaze. 

“Holy shit, indeed. Fuck, Noona.” He averts his eyes from your core to your face. You blush hard. Almost cover your face with your palms when he acts faster than you. Holds into your hands. “Don’t please. You’re so fucking beautiful.” He purrs. Eyes back on your glistening pussy. “And wet. God you’re so wet, pet. Dripping.” Coos. Licks his lips. You buck your hips toward his face. Burning up from lust. 

“Kookie please.” You croak. And Jungkook doesn’t let you suffer at all. Just as the words leave your mouth, you feel his nose nudging at your clit. Then his lips replace his nose. A tender kiss at your pearl. Your toes curl and your head falls back into the headrest. Then he places another kiss. Then another. A kiss after a kiss. Until you lose your mind. Jungkook pulls away after what felt like an eternity. Pauses to admire your core before looking directly in your eyes. Keeps his eyes on yours when he spits onto your clit.

“You’re so damn beautiful, Noona.” You tremble violently. Jungkook rubs his spit into your slit using two fingers. Slowly. Sensually. As if he has all the time in the world. Keeps rubbing over and over again. Making you gasp and moan. “The prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” Stares at your throbbing core as if he’s in a trance. Kisses your clit, yet again.

“Oh, God.” You press his face into your core, impatiently. He doesn’t complain. Just let you rub your aching cunt on his face. You whimper and whine. Which turns into broken moans when Jungkook parts his lips and wraps them around your clit. Starts sucking. Grazes his teeth softly. And you’re melting. So far gone in the pleasure Jungkook is creating between your thighs. 

You just rock your hips mindlessly while Jungkook alters between sucking on your clit and licking your slit. His tongue poking at your entrance. 

“Please, fuck.” You urge him to give you more. Jungkook apparently is an impatient lover. He can’t deny you nor can he control himself. His tongue enters you almost immediately. Fucking your quivering hole with his tongue. Coming up to make out with your clit. “Yes. Yes. Kookie, yes.” You choke out every now then. Lose your mind completely when his fingers replace his tongue soon. He waits for your permission like a good boy before he enters. But as soon as you just nod, he’s fingering you violently like it’s the last day on earth. As if you’re the last girl he’d ever get to finger. It takes a few experimental thrusts for Jungkook to find your sweet spot but he does rather quickly. 

“Tastes so sweet, pet. God, you taste so sweet. Want your cum, hm. Want to eat your cum.” Jungkook mumbles against your slippery core. Like a mad man. And he looks so beautiful. Covered in your slick and eyes peering at you. “Cum on my tongue baby, please.” Pleads for no reason. You just nod. Fingers pulling from his hair. Hips keep rocking against his face. And his fingers relentlessly stroking that spot. Making your high goes higher and higher. Until there’s no place to go and it explodes. Explodes with you moaning inhumanly and almost ripping Jungkook’s hair away. With you screaming his name and Jungkook nearly crying as he starts to ravish on your cunt. He keeps doing that till it starts to hurt you. Until you start to push his face away. 

He gives you one last sloppy lick. From your hole to your clit. Pulls his fingers out and cleans them as well. You just watch him in awe. Chest heaving. Expecting him to get to his feet and continue but he just lowers your legs. Smiles softly. “You okay?” Asks from you. You on the other hand are gaping at Jungkook like you’ve never seen him before. 

He doesn’t want to continue?

“Kookie, what are you? You’re not going to?” You question. Confused. Jungkook grins. In adoration. 

“No. It’s fine. Wanted you to feel good.” Stands up. 

Hell, no. What you did was wrong. So, wrong. But to think that Jungkook doesn’t even receive anything in return makes you feel nauseous. Like you’ve used him. No. You don’t want that. You stumble into your feet immediately. Get Jungkook by surprise when you kneel in front of him in such a hurry.

“No-noona?” He stutters. You bunch up your fists in his pants. 

“Sit down Jungkook. You’re not getting away that easily.”

“No. You don’t have to-”

“I know, I just want to. Please.” You bat your eyelashes. Places a kiss on his visible bulge. “I want to suck your cock Kookie. Want to taste you.” Jungkook curses aloud. “Fuck!” He has a weak self control, after all.

…………………..

Jungkook really believes that he’s about to die from the pleasure. That’s how good this feels. Your pretty lips are wrapped around his cock. Your teary eyes looking up at him. You, down on your knees for him. Worshipping his cock. Drooling and choking on his cock. His. It feels like a dream. 

“Fuck, Noona.” He uses your hair to push you further into his cock. Hitting your throat. You gag. Close your eyes. Jungkook nearly bust a nut right there. He has to look away from you to prevent that from happening. “Oh, baby fuck.” He moans aloud. You’ve given him the permission to fuck your throat. But still, Jungkook is afraid of hurting you. You look like you’re enjoying this to the fullest, though. You moan around his cock right at the clue. “Yeah? You like this, pet?” Jungkook asks. You nod around him in answer. Oh, how delectable you look. How pliable and the things he wants to do to you. Can’t afford to scare you away, however. Jungkook bites back his questionable thoughts away to buck his hips into your mouth.

You gag again which soon turns into another moan. You’re a complete mess. Mascara running down your cheeks and makeup ruined. And the thought that he’s the one who made you that way gets Jungkook drunk without alcohol. Tears roll down your cheeks uncontrollably just like your spit drool down his cock. Making it slippery and messy. Complete, utter mess. But the most beautiful mess he’s ever seen, undoubtedly. Jungkook pushes your head down and keeps you there for a second before letting you go. You swirl your tongue around his tip when you come up. Then you’re pushing his cock back again into your throat. 

“Oh, god you’re so good at this. You’re taking my cock so well baby. Keep going.” Jungkook lets you take the pace. Doing it in your own way and pleasuring him to a point of blacking out. Jungkook doesn’t want to think about anything beyond this moment. But for a fact, he knows that you’re currently ruining him for any other girl. He’d never be able to receive this kind of pleasure again. And just as he thinks this is the best and worst it can get you start shuffling. Jungkook watches in confusion when you adjust yourself in a way that you can straddle his leg. Your knees on either side of his leg and you lower yourself down. 

“Holy fuck no. God, Noona. I’m-” Jungkook fists your hair hard and violently starts to thrust into your mouth just as you start to rub your cunt on his leg. He’s definitely going to die today. Your moans reverberate through his entire body, starting from his throbbing cock. “You’re such a pretty slut Noona. So fucking beautiful.” Jungkook bends down to move your skirt away. So, your cunt can rub directly onto his leg over his pants. He wishes he could just remove that too. But is too greedy to take his cock out from the warm confines of your mouth. 

“Yeah, like that baby. Keep going. Rub your sweet cunt on my leg. Cum again for me.” So, he just encourages you while keep fucking your mouth. Over and over again. Using your pretty face he’s been dreaming of kissing for months. Letting himself fall into an endless pit of pleasure. His groans and your moans fill his otherwise quiet apartment together with your occasional gags and slurping sounds. Adding more fire to his desire. And just at the moment when your movements lose their rhythm and you come into a tense halt. Cumming all over his leg and crying out, Jungkook lost it too. He swears that he wanted to ask you if you wanted him to cum down your throat but it’s already too late. He shoots ropes after ropes of his cum into your throat. But you don’t seem to mind. 

“Oh fuck Noona. Take that, yes.” He keeps you that way until his high rides down. “Good  pet, yeah. Ahh.. You’re so good to me.” Until he has nothing to give you more. That’s when he lets you go. His softening cock slips from your mouth as you heave for air. Wipe your chin with the back of your hand. 

It takes Jungkook another minute to come into his senses. You are still on your knees and straddling his leg. He lowers his gaze to you. Takes in your ruined appearance. This time, though, instead of a new spark of fire, he feels a pang in his chest.

Holy fuck! What has he done?

Jungkook’s heart beat starts to slow down. Weight of his action weighs heavy down his shoulders. 

He just made you suck his cock. He made you do that when you were vulnerable and hurt. Angry and drunk. He let his primal instinct get over him and used you. Jungkook’s heart squeezes painfully. You make it worsen when you peer at him with innocent wide eyes. 

Oh, no.

Jungkook works in autopilot mode when he bends down. Pulls you into your feet and then into his lap. You straddle him immediately. Your eyes are glistening. He can’t really read your expression. But he thinks you look sad. Broken. Hurt. Guilty. Jungkook completely ignores the fact that you both are still very half naked when he crushes you with a tight hug. You hide your face in his neck. 

“I’m so sorry!”

You breathe out at the same time as he does. He freezes for a moment. Then it hits him. You’re apologizing for the same reason as he is. Even though you don’t have to. You never used him. It’s the other way around. But here you are. Jungkook presses you into his chest even tighter. Not being able to get enough of you. Not knowing how to fix anything.

“I’m so sorry, Noona.” He whispers in your ear when you hug him back with the same kind of fervour. 

“Me too Kookie. I’m so sorry.” You pull away to peer at his face. “This won’t change anything right? You’d stay the same. Don’t want to lo-lose y-uou.” Jungkook’s heart physically hurts  at the way your voice cracks. He hugs you back. Oh, how broken you look. Why would you ever think he’d change? 

“Of course no, Noona. Nothing’s changed. I’m just your Kookie you always knew.” Even his voice sounds distant to him. But he can feel you nodding into his neck.

“Thankyou.”

………………………

You feel sick. You’ve felt this way ever since your shenanigans with Jungkook. It’s not that you despise Jungkook or anything. Quite the opposite to tell the truth. It’s just the fact that you’ve crossed a boundary you shouldn’t have. The fact that you could’ve easily ruined everything. And then there is the guilt. Guilt toward Jungkook. When you used him as your stress releaser. No matter how many times Jungkook would tell you that’s not the case and he’s at fault, you can’t shake off the guilt. And the guilt toward Jimin. You know very well that, despite Jimin’s jealousy and his words, you hold no obligation to stay faithful to him. He’s getting engaged for fucks sake. But yet you can’t help but feel sick. Can’t wipe off his beautiful smile from your mind. And the way that smile would falter if he knew what happened. 

You feel like a cheap whore. 

Funny, since you’ve always done worse. With Jimin. But you can put everything aside. Yet not the feeling that you betrayed Jimin. 

You tried your best to make up your mind. To convince yourself that you’re not wrong and are allowed to do anything you want. It isn’t working, however. Not even after a day. You’ve had a very restless night after you went to sleep that night. After what happened with Jungkook. Then you had the worst day possible yesterday. Even got scolded from your favourite lecturer and of course, Chan. You were too caught up in your mind. Not being able to get rid of the guilty feeling, no matter how hard you try. And you’ve come to a decision last night. 

You have to come clean. 

You need to meet Jimin and tell him what happened. You know you don’t have to. That Jimin doesn’t deserve to know. But you need to do that. Otherwise these emotions would eat you up. 

Hence the reason why you’re not standing in front of Jungkook’s apartment right now. Instead, you’re standing in front of a once very familiar lavish apartment building. You don’t even know what you’re about to do. Hell, you don’t even have an idea whether Jimin is home or not. Or if Liya is there or not. All you know is that you want to come clean. You’ve just given into your impulse and had only sent a text to Jungkook saying you’d be late. 

Maybe you should check with Jimin. But something makes you hesitant.

So, you just walk inside the lobby. You don’t want permission. Know the password already. Have been here multiple times now. Yet it feels like your first time as you wait patiently inside the elevator. Are trembling like a leaf while you walk across the familiar hallway toward Jimin’s apartment. Your heart beats in your throat when you knock on his door. 

Maybe this is a mistake. You shouldn’t have come. 

Maybe you should turn-

You hold your breath when the door opens suddenly. You exhale that breath when you see it’s the exact person you wanted to see. 

Jimin.

He genuinely looks surprised. Eyes wide. And glinting. A small smile spreads across his lips as well. 

“Spring Roll?” 

He gaps softly. Yet beside his glinting eyes, he looks even worse than the last time you saw him. Lips dry and blackness under his eyes. Nose a little red and hair tousled. Is in his work attire- minus the coat, but doesn’t look like the handsome CEO that he is. If you didn’t know better, you’d say he’s sick. “This- uh-” He stutters a bit. Nervously. Almost like a boy meeting his crush for the first time. In another context you would’ve swoon to see that. Not now though. The nerves are eating you up to be able to feel any butterflies. The prospect of what to come next makes you sweat like a pig. 

Jimin, who’s very oblivious to your inner turmoil, opens the door wide for you. Still stuttering. “I'm a bit surprised. I mean you came- wait? You’re okay right? Nothing’s wrong?” Waits for you to answer. When you don’t he continues. Clasps his hands. “Listen baby, I know I’m always fucking up and all but I swear-”

“Jimin.” You stop his rambling. You don’t even know what he’s talking about. For a moment Jimin looks like he doesn’t want to listen to you. Looks like he’s about to plead and beg. Then probably at the sight of your paled face, he closes his mouth. Brows furrowing. 

“What? What happened, baby? You’re okay, right?” 

Oh, you feel like you’re about to faint. 

“I- I….” Now you’re here, you have no idea what you should say. 

Hi Jimin, Jungkook and I gave each other oral and now I feel like a slut. Just wanted to let you know. 

Oh, how stupid you are. Why did you ever decide to come here this way?

“What is it, Spring Roll? You’re fucking making me worried.” Jimin takes a firm step toward you. His face is stony and concerned.

Okay, okay you got this. Just rip the bandaid off.

“Jungkook and I.. uh- I mean we…” You trail off again. Not knowing what to say. “We- it just happened but- uh-” Try again. Fail. But then Jimin’s stony face falls for a split second. A realization dawns upon him as you watch. You stand there like an idiot, feeling nervous when his eyes darken dangerously. There’s no need to explain everything. Of course, he picked up the pieces and connected them. His expression morphs into something predatory.

“You did what?” Yet when Jimin questions, his voice is calm. Too calm for your likings. Icy rage. 

You shouldn’t have come. 

“I- we- it just happened-”

“What the fuck did you do, Lil. Did you fuck?” Jimin shoves his hands in his pockets. His calm exterior breaking down. Your knees buckle under his icy gaze. 

“No.. No..”

“Then what?”

You gulp harshly. Soothing your parched throat. This is fucking ridiculous. Why would you be so nervous talking to Jimin as if he’s your boyfriend. It’s not like you actually did something wrong. You should leave. 

“Nothing. I shouldn’t have come here.” You ramble. Almost ready to turn around and run away when Jimin grabs your forearm. It all happens so fast for you to comprehend. The way he drags you inside. The way he closed the door behind. The way you’re trapped between him and the door. 

“Well, you fucking did Spring Roll. And now you can’t just throw a bomb at me and walk away.” Jimin doesn’t touch you. Just keep you caged between the door and his body. “Tell me what the hell you did.” You just blankly stare at him. Previous nervousness you felt replacing with familiar anger. True that you came here to come clean and all but you don’t like the way he talks to you right now. And he makes it worse with his next words. “You wanted to do something to be even. Revenge. Because of what happened at Tae’s. Is that why? You wanted to make me jealous and you decided to go and fuck someone else?” Oh, your vision is turning red. “Guess what, princess, it’s fucking working. I’m burning from jealousy right now. I can kill that bastard. You. Win.”

“Oh, for fucks sake Jimin. Do I look like I want to do that?” You finally manage to talk back normally. Rage makes your nervousness disappear.

“Then what the fuck do you want? You came here to let me know after all?”

“So, you’d rather prefer I kept it a secret? Like you always do with everything. I fucking came because I feel oh so fucking guilty, Jimin. Like I’ve done something bad to you. I didn’t mean it to happen. I was mad, hurt, and fucking drunk. So was he. But I couldn’t shake off the guilt and I wanted to talk to you. Wan- wanted-” Your voice cracks making you stop rambling for a second. You breathe out before starting again. This time slowly. “Wanted to apologize. I’m not the one-”

That’s all you get to say when your words get muffled suddenly by Jimin’s lips. So sudden that you gasp loudly in surprise. He crushes his lips against yours without any warning. Starts to devour you right away. Takes advantage of the gasp you left out and enters his tongue inside your mouth immediately. Tangling with yours. Bites on your lips and sucks on your tongue. Hard. Swallows all your moans and squeezes your ass. You do what your instincts ask you to do. Wrap your hands around his neck and deepen the kiss. This is not how you should do this. But you can’t worry. There’s no use trying to fight it anymore. Jimin is your drug and you’ll always get addicted just with a simple touch. 

Jimin keeps kissing you until you’re both breathless and panting. Pulls away right when you both can’t do it anymore. 

“Fuck you, Lil.” He groans. Pants.

“Fuck you, too Park. You fucking ass-” 

He kisses you again. Doesn’t let you finish your insult. Unfortunate how you don’t try to push him away. Instead you’re bringing him even closer. Grinding against him. 

“You sure you want this?” Jimin withdraws just enough to ask you that. You nod without a beat. “Yeah? Cause, I’m gonna fucking ruin you, Lil. No one’s touching what’s mine. I told you that you’re mine.” Asks again. And his words make your blood liquid fire. You’re blazing. 

“I’m positive. Whatever you want.” You peck his lips. Jimin takes a minute and then nods. Withdraws completely just to grab your wrist. And is walking inside his apartment while dragging you with him. You just let him do what he wants. Excitement bubbles inside you. You can feel your heart beating in your ears and your core throbs in anticipation. You missed Jimin. 

Jimin stops in the middle of his living room. You take a quick glance around you. It looks the same. The couch. The coffee table. The book rack. And floor to ceiling windows. Leaking bright morning sunlight inside since the curtains are drawn open. You look at Jimin confusedly when he motions you to walk forward. Until you’re standing before one of the windows. You turn to look at him. Questioning with your eyes. Jimin holds both of your hands in his. Gently. A stark contrast to how sinister he looks. 

“We need a safe word.” Mutters. 

“Huh?” Your eyes widen. This is new. Jimin has always tried new things with you. Hell, he has made you cry during sex. And of course, was rough. But you never wanted a safe word. His words reverberated through your body. Making your clit throb. 

“A safe word Lil. I don’t want to do anything you don’t like.” 

You inhale a shaky breath. Take a minute. Then nod. “Yeah, fine. Um.. red.” State. It’s the first thing that comes to your mind. Can anyone blame you for not being damn creative when your panties are getting drenched and your clit is throbbing for any attention?

“Red, it is. Say the word and I’m gonna stop.” Jimin’s lips hover above you. You nod and wait patiently till he kisses you again. Only to be disappointed when he pulls away. Smirking.

Oh, this is going to be intense.

You watch in anticipation when Jimin takes a few steps back. You don’t dare to move or ask anything. Just clenching around nothing and rubbing your thighs together. An agonizingly slow beat passes in silence. You can hear your heart beat and the roar in your ears. Then Jimin just casually drops down into one of the arm chairs. Facing you directly. Relaxes. 

“Strip.” Then his lowered voice echoes through the apartment. Such a simple and clear command. No complexities or confusion. Yet, here you are gaping at him with an open mouth. 

What did he say? 

“Don’t make me repeat Lil. Fucking strip.” Jimin repeats calmly. 

Oh okay.

You turn around partially to look at the window behind you. You’re pretty high on the building. There’s not many other buildings reaching up to a similar height but there's one. Right across from Jimin’s apartment building. And you can clearly see inside the apartment on the same level. That means if someone is there and if they looked your way they would see you. A shiver ripples through your body. Jimin picks up on your hesitation. “Don’t care Lil. Just strip.” His dangerous rumble makes you turn your attention back to him. His predatory gaze is burning your skin.

You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. You know it. You even have a word now. Jimin’s not going to push you if you really don’t like something. But who are you kidding? You know that you won’t use the word. He knows that you won’t use it. You both know you’d just do as he says. And that’s exactly what you do. Doing as he demands. Getting rid of your clothes one by one. Until you’re bared down into your underwear. “Those too.” Jimin just casually coaches you. You relent. In a second, you’re standing completely naked in front of his eyes. Morning sun rays make your naked skin warm behind you. It’s warm but you’re trembling with excitement. Rubbing your thighs uncontrollably.

Jimin gaps. Groans. Bites down on his bottom lip. For a moment it looks like his control has slipped. Then he takes it back. 

“Tease your nipples.” Instructs. You bring your both hands hesitantly toward your already hardened pebbles. Start doing as he says. Twirling your fingers over them and pinching. “Fuck, you look beautiful slut. But you let someone else see that?” You want to tell him that’s not exactly what happened. And that he’s currently risking letting the same thing happen with a stranger. You don’t, however. Are too turned on to be able to talk, let alone argue. So, you just keep teasing your nipples. A moan slips through your mouth. 

“Squeeze your tits.” Jimin coaches again. You jump into action. Stop playing with your nipples and start massaging your soft mounds. Until Jimin finds it’s enough. 

“That’s enough. Touch your clit, baby.” 

You comply with his demands rather fast. Feel a little bit mortified. The whole situation is embarrassing. The window. The fact that Jimin is still very much clothed and you’re stark naked. The fact that you’re putting on a show for him. All of that is embarrassing. Humiliating. But also arousing. Your slickness is dripping down your thighs. And the moment your fingertips touch your bundle of nerves, your legs almost give up. 

“Jimin.” You whimper as you start to rub figure eights on your throbbing clit.

“Ugh, fuck.” Jimin groans. Stars rubbing his bulge over his pants. “You like this, slut? Like being put on display?” You just nod. Frantically picking up the speed you’re working on yourself. Bringing yourself embarrassingly close to an orgasm. This turns you on into no end that your head is spinning. Just few more flicks and-

“Stop.” Jimin grunts. You slow down your fingers reluctantly. Whining and whimpering. Stop your movements altogether. Jimin lets a few seconds pass. “Again. Touch again.” Demands again. The fire inside you swallows you whole. It’s becoming a struggle to stay on your feets. Yet you relent and start rubbing again. Starting slow and doubling up your efforts. Making the coil inside your stomach tightens again. 

“Stop.” 

You bend down to stop yourself from cumming as you stop your movements. Tears start to prick your eyes. Another minute. Another command. “Again.” Your fingers move around your clit again. “And keep your eyes on me.” He adds. You comply with him, yet again. Rub your clit slowly as you watch the way Jimin rubs his cock over his pants. 

Oh, this is so good.

“Stop.” 

You do. 

“Start again, Lil.” 

You do. 

“How are you feeling princess, good? Is your clit throbbing? Yeah? You wanna cum?” Taunting and teasing. 

“Wanna cum Jimin, please.” And you're begging. Tears are finally starting to roll down your cheeks. 

“No. Stop.”

“Oh, please.”

“Fucking stop you little whore.”

So, you do it again. And then it goes on and on. Over and over. An endless circle of torture. Until your legs really give up and your knees almost hit the floor. That’s only when Jimin finally stops it. Finally gets to his feet and walks to you leisurely. While you struggle to be on your feet and keep your eyes away from his bulge. Trying so hard not to salivate at the sight. 

Jimin cups your heated cheeks. Brings his mouth closer to your ear. “You good, baby?” Whispers making tingles run across your whole body. You know he’s asking for real. Genuinely want to know if you’re okay. 

“Yes.” You exhale. Clutching his dress shirt desperately. “Please.” Begs. You feel like dying from the throbbing pain between your legs. You just need something. You’re aching for a little touch from him. And so you’re positive that you’ll come undone the second he touches you. He doesn’t, however. At least doesn’t touch you where you want him to. Just turns you around you by your shoulders. Guides you toward the window. Pushes your body into it, making your hard and perky nipples grazing the window. You bring your hands to place on the not so cold glass on instinct. Balancing yourself. Your back is arching and searching for any kind of friction.  

Jimin’s lips hover again in your ear. “What do you want, princess? Use your words.” Teases. You shudder. But you’ve played this game enough times before to know that Jimin won’t give you anything unless you ask him to. And after all those times you’re not so shy anymore.  “You. Need you Jimin. Please, I need you.” You cry out. Desperately. Like the needy slut you are right now. Jimin only chuckles, though. Low. So low that you moan at the sound. 

“Yeah? Now you want me? I thought you didn't, baby.”

“Oh, Jimin please.” This time you cry out in impatience. He’s being difficult. Childish. “Am I wrong? You have people to please you. Why would you need me? Thought you have Jungkook now.” Almost pulls away when you finally snap. 

“I didn’t- fuck- it was a damn mistake and I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it to happen.” You turn your head to look at him. He pulls away, anyway. You miss his warmth right away. 

“Well, I don’t think you’re sorry.” Jimin takes another step away from you. You’re losing your mind. 

“I am, I- oh god fuck Jimin. I’m sorry.” You barely get to finish that when his palm suddenly hits your core. A choked moan elicits from your parched throat. “Oh, god yes.” 

“Yeah? Are you sorry?” His palm hits your cunt again. You cry out  a ‘yes’. “Yeah?” Another time. Harder than before and you moan even louder. Pleasurable sting causing you to see stars. You will cum and embarrass yourself if he keeps doing that. But of course, he keeps doing that. “Then show me how sorry you are, slut.” Another slap. And you have no idea how to do as he says. Are about ask how when he gives you the answer soon. You swear that you didn’t even hear the sound of his belt unbuckling. Jimin enters you without any prior warning and catches you completely off guard. The cry you let out is inhuman. Due to pleasure. You’re slick enough that it doesn’t hurt. Just a tiny burn which subsides immediately. Jimin’s rock hard cock glides against your slick warm walls quite easily. 

“Holy fuck, so wet. You’re so fucking wet.” Jimin groans. “And so tight. Feels so good, slut. Do you know how good your cunt feels?” Finally touches you properly. Snakes his hands around your body to cup your breasts. Starts pounding into you without any further ado. No waiting, no adjustments. Opts on a bruising primal pace. “Show me you’re fucking sorry Lil. Take my cock like a good slut, hm?” Your body presses against the glass with his every animalistic thrust. Your loud moans and sobs fill the entire apartment. “You can’t expect me to just be all cool after you let someone else see this damn body, princess.” Pinches your nipples so hard. “You’re mine.” Fucks you even harder. “Told you always that you're mine.” Gives your neck a fleeting kiss. Then another. Soon it turns into a harsh suckings on your sensitive skin. Covering you with purple blossoms all over. 

Every thrust. Every kiss. Every nibble. Every bite. Every rub brings you closer to your release faster than a flash. Yet just as you’re about to fall over, Jimin stops. Of course, he does. You find yourself even incapable of protesting. So far gone inside your head. So drunk on Park Jimin. 

“On the couch, c’mon.” He commands, yet again. Pulls his hard cock out from you. You follow, yet again. Force your shaky legs to take you to the couch. Lay down with your legs spread apart. Watch with a hazy sight as Jimin at last gets rid of his clothes. Showing you his sculpted body. The kind of body that only he has. You wait impatiently till he joins you on the couch. Pumping his cock hard. This time he doesn’t waste any time. Just bends you in half and puts your legs over his shoulders before entering you again roughly. Then is pounding into your spasming hole again. Over and over. His dick head hitting all the right spots. 

“What should we do about this baby?” Jimin questions breathlessly in between his deep plunging. “About people not understating that you-fuck- you’re mine, hm?” Brings one hand to touch your neck. Drags his fingers over the purple marks he left there. 

“Jimin… oh god, I-I… please..” All you can do is pathetically moan. Jimin ignores whatever you’re trying to say. 

“You know, I’ve always covered you in hickies. And he always saw them, didn’t he? What is that? Fucker can’t pickup a sign? Can’t understand that you’re mine.” Jimin squeezes your cheeks. Presses a hard kiss into your pouting lip. Gives a hard thrust and stops moving. Making himself buried deep inside you. Grinds his hips making you wail. “What should we do baby? Tell me?” Straightens back and falls back into his hard pounding. So hard that the couch skids across the floor with a squeaking sound. You watch how hard his jaw is locked. How flushed his face is. How dark his eyes are. Your throat is turning sore at how loud you’re moaning. Jimin is killing you. In a good way. And you think this is the worst he can do. How wrong you are. 

“Should I get you fucking pregnant? Get you full and round of me so everyone-”

Jimin doesn’t get to finish his sentence. Just because you drown his voice with your screaming. Back arching and cumming right there at his words. Embarrassing. But you can’t care. Not when his words make you feel consumed by a heat that you can’t satiate. You don’t want to get pregnant. Of course, not. You’re still so young and there’s a lifetime ahead. You haven’t even thought about children. But the way his words make you feel should be illegal. It’s not possible to get this aroused right? Yet, here you are. Screaming his name and trembling. 

“Fucking hell, Lil. Oh god, woman you’re gonna fucking kill me.” Jimin slows down his hips a notch just to pick back up the speed and keep fucking you hard. Fucking you through your orgasm. Not even slowing down when it starts to hurt from the over sensitivity. “You want that? You want to fucking get pregnant? Want me to fuck a baby in to you?” Questions. You don’t answer. Completely because you can’t properly understand what he’s talking about. Then Jimin never appreciated your silence, did he? He takes his hand to your clit. Doesn’t stop his thrusts when suddenly pinches your clit hard. Hard enough for another unexpected orgasm to ripple through you. Making Jimin laugh and groan at the same time. “Shit! You little slut.” Mutters. Slaps your sensitive clit again. “Answer me baby? Do you like it?” Slaps your thigh this time while keep fucking you hard. “Either you gonna answer me or-”

“Yes, yes-” You don’t want to know what he’ll do. This is enough torture already. “I want it, Jimin. P-please…. W-want you to get me so full- ugh fuck- so full of you. I want it please.” You sob. Can feel Jimin twitch inside you. 

“Yes?” 

“Yes please. G-get me pregnant?”

“Hell yeah, so everyone would know you’re mine, right baby? Tell me who you belong to? Who’s fucking cunt is this?” 

“Yours. I’m yours.” 

Jimin groans. “Fuck, yes. Mine.” Leans forward again. Looks you dead in the eye. You watch in anticipation. Knowing he needs more. Something more. You have no idea what that is but you nod in agreement anyway. You trust him with all your might. Besides, you have a safe word you can use any time. “Open your mouth.” Jimin commands. His mouth is just mere millimeters apart from your lips. And like that you understand what he wants even before he says anything. You like it. Of course, you do. That’s the exact reason why you’re clenching around his hard cock like you’ve gone mad. You do as he says without any other questions. Too fucked up and too horny. Keep your mouth open and wait for his next step. Jimin takes another cautious look at your face. For any sign of discomfort. When he finds none, he does it. Spits into your mouth. 

You cry pathetically. Tears rolling down. Your cunt feels like it's on fire. “Swallow.” Jimin barks. You comply like a good pet. Make Jimin moans like a beautiful symphony. “Fuck, again. Lil again baby, open your mouth.” You do. He does it again. You can tell he’s close. Too close. Is losing the precision in his movements. Yet demands you do it again. “Again princess, one more time.” And that’s all it takes for you to fall apart for a third time. Just as he spits on your mouth again. 

And like a chain reaction, that’s all it takes for Jimin as well. He falls forward. Captures your lips in a searing kiss as he stills his hips. Cuming deep inside you. Making you cum again one more time. Nails digging into Jimin’s back and your legs locking him in place. Allowing him to shoot his cum into your womb. 

You wait there until you both can’t breathe. Kissing each other like it’s the last time you’ll get to kiss. Until your high calms down. That’s only when Jimin finally withdraws from you. Eyes frantically going over your tired and spent features. 

You close your eyes. Feeling your head spin. Feeling hard to breathe. Your ears still roar and your heart beats a mile a minute. Cunt still on fire and throbbing painfully. You bring your forearm to cover your face. Allowing yourself to fall into exhaustion. Basking in the euphoric sensation. Finding solace in the darkness enveloping you. Peaceful, blissful dark-

“Lil? Holy fuck, baby. Hey? Are you with me?” 

You open your eyes at the sensation of Jimin’s hands cradling your cheeks. Oh, so soft and gentle. His voice sounds like it's coming from another dimension. You catch the sight of his worried expression. 

“Huh?” You mumble weakly. 

“Are you okay, love? Did I- did I hurt you?” 

Your heart flutters violently. The rest of his question doesn’t reach you. Your ears stop listening after the word ‘love’. 

Oh no… he didn’t.

You feel like crying. But that doesn’t mean anything. Of course,not. He’s just concerned and is a sweet person. That’s it. That doesn’t mean anything. You shouldn’t get ahead of yourself. So, you just shake your head to tell him that he didn’t hurt you. 

“I- I’m fine. Jimin- I- I’m so sorry-” He doesn’t let you finish. Pulls your weak and spent body into his arms immediately. Starts pressing tender kisses into your hair as you hide your face in his neck. Inhaling his familiar smell. 

“Hey, I know. I know, baby. I know you didn’t mean it and it’s okay. Sorry I was a jealous jerk. But it’s okay, alright?” Pulls away to look at your face. You gape at him. 

Really?

“You won’t mind?” Ask timidly. 

“Course I do mind. Hell, lady.. next time I’m gonna murder that bastard if he so much as lays a finger on you. You’re mine. I just- uh- I know it’s a mistake. I know you didn’t mean and I just wanted to claim back what’s mine.” Presses a soft kiss to your lips. You feel relief wash over you. Finally feels relaxed. All the weight on your chest evaporating. Oh, how Jimin has become your solace. Your safe place. You smile into his kiss. 

“Thank You.”

“No, thank you for coming here. Thankyou for not just asking me to fuck off after everything. Thank you for letting me know.”

You pull away. Fall back onto the couch. This is the time. You need to get this done.

“Well, you promised me an explanation, Park.” Jimin chuckles. Starts fumbling around. Lays down next to you. Manhandling you on top of him. Holds you tight. 

“You got it. Sorry I couldn’t make it earlier. Had to make sure Liya’s father doesn’t lose his shit after seeing that video.” 

………………………..

You have no idea how long it has been since you’ve been just cuddling on a couch and listening to Jimin’s story. Naked. About how Mr. Kim has a partial ownership of the company as the biggest shareholder. How four of them- even with combining all their shares- don’t have enough to fight him. Now you understand why they call Liya’s father mighty Kim. And how Jimin can’t risk him pulling out from the company which will create a destabilising power. How he would lose his damn position and the company- the dream- he and his friends worked so hard for. 

You don’t know how hard boys worked for the company.

All of a sudden, Liya’s words make so much sense to you. 

And Jimin told you about the upcoming launch. The fact that Kim is the main sponsor. And everything falls back into one position. If he breaks up with Liya, she’d take revenge. Mr Kim would just say bye to RUN and sell or transfer his shares to an external party. If that happens Jimin is fucked up. 

“And you can’t do anything about it?” You snuggle against his chest. It’s just not a question but also a statement. 

“Not unless we find a way to get him to sell his shares to us before anything happens. Or we find another sponsor who can fund us. That’s not easy. Especially with the fact that Kim rules this world. No one would ever want to be on his bad side.” Jimin rakes his fingers through your hair softly. 

“So, what’s your plan then? You said you need time.”

“Do one of those things. I’m on the hunt for a new sponsor. And I’m looking for a way to get him to sell his shares without offending him. Or any other loophole I can find to use against him. Everyone has their dirty shits. I should’ve already maintained an account for him. With all the blackmail materials. I was just stupid that I didn’t do that. Now I have to dig from the surface till I reach deep enough.” 

You understand it. Makes you wonder why he hadn’t told you earlier. 

“Why didn’t you want to tell me earlier?” You question in genuine confusion. Raise your head to find him turning red. He groans.

“I was embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed of what?”

“Of you finding out that I’m such a loser.”

“What?” You almost get away from him completely in disbelief when he pulls you back on to him. So, you just opt to keep your head up and stare at him. 

“Oh c’mon, Lil, you look at me like I'm some kind of God. A man who has everything. Someone who accomplished every goal. I mean you have a nasty mouth and you’ll always talk me down but I see the way you look at me.” Jimin sighs heavily. You feel your heart swell. You didn’t know that mattered to him. “You know even though I kind of have everything, I just can’t shake off the fucking feeling that I don’t deserve it. That I.. uh.. Got it with the help of someone-”

“Help of someone?” You interrupt him. Jimin nods. 

“Yeah. I-um- this makes it fucking worse, like when we started we really didn’t have the budget to start developing a game. Just four boys fresh out of college. Just dreams and ideas. We had the talent, knowledge and all but not the money. We could’ve made it either way. Starting slow and making it from scratch but I had Liya. The queen bee. Daughter of the Kim and she didn’t want to date a man struggling to build something up.” He laughs softly. 

“Besides, why would we bother when she can help us? It was nothing on her part. At first I didn’t want to do that but it sounded too compelling- tempting. All I wanted was to start something. For my idea to be out in the world and eventually I accepted. I built my empire with Kim’s money.” Jimin holds you so tight against him. As if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if not. “I didn’t want you to see me as that person. You made me feel like that I’ve actually made it by myself and that I deserve it. I know it’s stupid but I liked the way you treated me. So,” He touches your cheek. “Do you think I’m a loser? I’m an asshole and we both know it but I didn’t want to use Liya. But that’s what’s apparently happened, so, do you wish you never had started anything with me?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You would really hit him if he doesn’t have such a tight grip on you. 

“Really, Park?” You raise a brow. “That- that’s, oh gosh no. Why would you even think that way? It really is such a stupid reason.” You sigh heavily. Softening at his expression. “You didn’t use anyone Jimin. She’s the one offered. And you were already dating her. Not the other way around. You saw the opportunity and you took it. And it was just money they offered. Rest was on you. I’d always see you as the same way Mr. CEO. You’re a man who accomplished a lot on your own and you deserve it all. I can’t believe I’m saying this but I admire you a lot.” You hide your face instantly. “Now if you ever bring it out again… I’ll just-”

Jimin’s laugh cut you off. “Okay. But are you serious like, you don’t think that-”

“No, Park. Stop it.” You raise your head back again to kiss him shut. Pull away. “Why the sudden engagement, tho?” Not that you want to ruin the mood but you have to ask. 

“The video. We got rid of everything before it reaches the public but there are some higher profiles who've seen it. Not that anyone recognizes you but they’re questioning. And there were some people in the club that day, kids of those rich assholes. People are apparently talking and it’s not good on anyone’s reputation. Especially Kim's. I don’t know if you know this but Liya is not his blood-”

“I do. I just happened to know.”

“Okay. So, he’s doing his utmost best to keep everything under the carpet and to keep his image spotless. He doesn’t want any rumors around his daughter. The sole heir to the Kim’s group. If one thing comes to the surface, it’s only a matter of time until everything does. If anyone ever finds out that shit, that’s not going to go well with his businesses. So, he wants the rumors to stop fast. And they think an engagement would solve the problem before it gets bigger.”

You feel a clench in your heart. Yet just nod. Jimin’s the one who kisses you this time. “I’m not doing that. I’ll come up with something. I mean I don’t know what yet but I’ll not get engaged to Liya. This is not the eighteenth century and they can’t force things on me.”

“But what if they threatened to pull out?”

“They won’t. I’m really not going to use the fact that Liya is not his real daughter. That’s such a low blow. Liya and I- we have history and they’ve helped me somehow. But still I’m gonna use that to make the engagement delayed if needed. I know that’s such a shitty thing to do but I refuse to become a puppet.” 

“Okay. This is so fucked up, but thank you for telling me. It feels good to be in the light.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t think I’m such a shitty person?”

“Well, you’re an asshole but not shitty. When I say you’re an asshole, I say it affectionately. But Jimin,” He hums in question. “What does Liya get from all this? Is she just worried about the reputation? Like can it cause that much harm? If you broke up with her?”

“It can. People can be nasty. Especially when it comes to famous people. They will take any opportunity to drag someone down.”

“So, it isn’t because she loves you.” 

Jimin scoffs at that. “No. Hell, no. Maybe she loved me back then but not anymore. I don’t even know why she chose me. The college fuck boy. I was a mess and a disaster. I was the trouble but I pulled the queen. I don’t know why she dated me. I loved her, though.” You have to look away to hide the way it makes a tiny pang in your chest. 

“What happened then?” Yet ask nonetheless. 

“I don’t know. All I know is that we’re no longer in love and just trying to use each other. I want to stop that. She doesn’t.”

It makes sense. They are in a convenient relationship. Which is messy and complicated. And you understand Jimin completely. So, you just nod at his next question. Agree completely. 

“So, just give me time, hm? I know it’s hard but uh.. Just a little time. That’s all I want and I promise the moment I figure this shit out, we’re gonna find a way to keep you in my life.”

You don’t question why he wants that. You know that you want to keep going because you like him. Maybe more than that. You’re so whipped. But what’s his reasons? And you don’t think about all the complications that would come up and the things you’d have to sacrifice, if you chose to keep living this way. Or if you decide to stay in this world. If it’s even possible. You’ll have to solve one problem at a time, after all. 

You’ll not question for now.

………………………….

Jimin ends his call with Hoseok right at the moment you enter the study. After showering together he had left you to dry your hair to take care of the hundreds of missed calls he’d received for the past few hours. Hoseok’s was about an art exhibition. A fundraiser. Hoseok wants all of them to attend since it’s the perfect opportunity for networking. They might even be able to land a new deal for a new sponsor. Who knows? And the event is apparently happening in the gallery where Namjoon’s girlfriend works. Even though Jimin doesn’t want to see them right now, he’s no fool to turn down the opportunities. 

“Hey.” You softly mumble as you walk toward him. Just in one of his hoodies and nothing else. You look content. And he loves to see you content. 

“Hey!” Jimin mumbles back to you. Spreads his arms so you can fall right between them. You do. Like you’ve come home. “Everything okay?” Ask him in such an adorable voice that Jimin’s heart does skip a beat, literally. 

“Yep. Hobi is making us attend a fundraiser.” Jimin answers your question. You withdraw from him, nodding in understanding. Don’t ask any more questions as you just drag your eyes across the study. Stop on one of his opened drawers. Jimin follows your vision. His own gaze dropping inside the drawer. Finding out exactly what catches your attention. And it’s too late when he notices that and jumps into action. You let out a shriek before you successfully grab the picture.

“Holy shit!” You exclaim. Amused. While Jimin feels mortified. It’s a picture of him and Taehyung. Back from the college days. First year. Just barely eighteen. He has no idea what the fuck they were doing, dressed up like two lunatics. It was taken during a party for sure. And they both look extremely stupid. 

“Give that back.” Jimin states calmly. You don’t give a fuck after all. Just turn around facing your back to him. 

“How old were you?” You question. Inspecting the picture. Jimin rounds you to look at your glinting eyes. “Doesn’t matter. Oh God, that’s so embarrassing. Give it back, Spring Roll.” 

You ignore him. Just coo at the picture. “You look tiny.”

“No I do not. I had the same body back then. Girls were dying for my abs.”

“Did they? What about your eyeliner, tho?” You quirk brow in challenge. Know what you’re doing. Jimin groans. You giggle prettily. “And it’s blue.” Add as if he doesn’t know it. “Why the hell are you wearing a blue eye liner in here, Park.” 

“C'mere you little gremlin.” Jimin stretches his arm to catch you which you dodge skilfully. Take a few steps back. Jimin doesn’t give up, however. He lunges forward again. You yelp as you try to run away from him. This time you fail. Jimin catches you successfully but you hide the picture behind you. Keep it hidden even when he picks you up and puts you on the table. “Oh c’mon, give it back you idiot. Why would you even need that?” So, he whines. You press your lips into the tip of his nose. There goes his heart skipping beats again. He feels warm. Inside, out. 

“Because you’re so adorable in that. Can I keep it?”

“Why?”

“Just so I can keep it.” You pout. Puppy eyes. Jimin is becoming weak. Oh, he is weak. “Will you promise me not to show it to anyone?” He’d give up eventually anyway. No use of fighting and dragging this up. You nod excitedly. Look so damn beautiful. “Okay, deal. But I need something in return too.” Jimin adds causing your face to fall. He’s a businessman after all. He’s good at deals. 

“What?”

“Let’s keep that spot empty. I’ll come up with something creative in the future.” You grumble but agree anyway. Jimin just smiles and captures your lips in his. He just wants to be close. Every way possible. Can’t help but touch you. You taste good. You feel good. Drives him mad. You pull away first. A soft smile on your lips. 

“Okay, what are you getting at? Haven’t you had enough?”

“What are you talking about?” Jimin feigns ignorance causing you to palm his hardened length through his sweats. A low groan erupts from his throat. 

“I’m talking about this.” You squeeze him. Well, he can’t help it. Can’t have enough. His hips buck into your touches involuntarily. 

“Well, you wanted to get pregnant.” Jimin teases you, reveling in the way you audibly whimper. Just for a second, though. You compose yourself rather fast for his liking. 

“Stop getting obsessed, Park.” You gasp. Tease. Wait till he denies. But then Jimin doesn’t want to deny it. So, he just spreads your legs rough. Finding your bare core already glistening with arousal. You’re the one to talk. He doesn’t point it out, though. Just kisses you again. Pulls away to whisper against your lips. 

“Too late, Spring Roll. I’m already obsessed.” 

Oh, how he loves the way you gasp. The way your breath hitch. And he means his words. Because that’s what he is. Obsessed. With you. Utterly deeply madly obsessed with you. 

“Are you too sore, baby? Can you take me again?” He asks cautiously. You just nod, like he knew you would. 

“Just go slow.” You spread your legs even wider.

“Of course, love.”

Such a shame that he’s focusing on your cunt. 

Such a shame how he doesn’t notice the way you look at him. 

…………………………..

Finally, after weeks of torment, life feels good again. With Jimin. With Jungkook. With your friends in both worlds. You feel relaxed after knowing what makes Jimin, Jimin. You feel valued and important after knowing Jimin trusted you enough to let you in. Sure, there's still no answers to his problems. He’s still a taken man and you're still being the bitch of your own story. Fucking a man in a relationship, despite everything that happened to you. But then, you think there’s hope now. Not that Jimin’s story justifies all your actions. Yet you can hope for a moment that you’d get to do it the right way. 

Even when you don’t get to see Jimin often now, life still feels good. You won’t go back to work at RUN again. No. The biggest favor you can do everyone is keeping your distance. Still, you find solace in his little texts. That’s enough. You’ll find a solution to everything soon. You trust Jimin. 

Then there’s Jungkook. Being the Jungkook you always knew. You’re oh so relieved when he agreed to let what happened slip. Agreed that it happened because both of you were emotional and drunk. He still won't side with Jimin. Never. But he’d be on your side. Forever. His own words. Then you had convinced Key to go on that date with Chan. Everything is going pretty fine. You’re in such a good mood that you’ve been waltzing instead of walking for the past few days. 

Everything is good. You don’t think anything would be able to ruin your good mood at all. Even when you find yourself at the fundraiser Jimin told you about a few days ago. Even when you know Jimin would probably attend this with Liya. You think you’ll be able to handle it. Knowing his story, you know it’s just a pretense. Of course, you can handle it. 

See, life is thriving. You’re back into going to these kinds of special events which a college girl has no business being in. It just happened because of Yoona apparently. It's the gallery she works at. And they are apparently allowed to bring in guests. More guests mean more funds. Yet you know, you’re not the kind of guests they want here. But who’d care in the end. You and Jungkook are here on the extended invitation by Yoona. J is here as the date of Jin. You’re all here to have a good time. Even though you can’t find Jungkook anywhere in your sight at this moment. 

You’re standing at a corner table with Taehyung. All glammed up. Feeling nervous since you’re not used to visiting such events. 

“You know who that is?” Taehyung asks you, pointing at an old man casually talking with Hoseok. You shake your head. “That’s the minister of culture.” He states. You gasp. 

“Yah! Really? Please remind me what the fuck I’m doing here again?”

“Same thing as me honey. Just wasting your time.”

You chuckle at his comment. You spend a lot more time with Taehyung these days. He comes over to Jungkook’s quite often. Saying you’re surprised would be an understatement. Jungkook’s sudden change of behaviour toward Taehyung makes you more than surprised. 

“I thought this is an opportunity for you. Jimin mentioned something about a new sponsor or something.” You look around the hall. To search if the said guy is here. Apparently not yet. Taehyung just clicks his tongue. Retrieves two new champagne flutes from a passerby server. Hands you over one. 

“I’m bad at that. I always get distracted by women.” He sips from his drink before continuing. You scrunch up your nose at that. “That’s why we have Jin and Hobi. Look at them, doing a god damn great job.” Gestures at the said people. You catch J walking toward you at the same time. Pouting. 

“Boring. This shit is boring as hell man.” She whines just as she reaches your table. Steal your champagne flute. You decide not to say anything. 

“Tell us about it. I just want to go home and watch a movie.” Taehyung agrees with his whole heart. You ignore him when you turn to J.

“Where’s Kookie?”

She shrugs. “No idea. I think he’s annoying Yoongi. He really wants to be Yoongi’s editor, you know?” You chuckle at the mental image of Jungkook pestering an annoyed Yoongi. 

“Maybe I should give up this job and start a vlog. What do you, pretty women, think?” Taehyung butts in.

“We think you’d make the perfect cam boy.” J states with a straight face. Nods in confirmation. Now you don’t know what she expects Taehyung’s reaction would be. But you expect it fully when he beams. Excited. A little too much.

“Exactly. I knew I would be. Jimin didn’t let me pursue my dream job.”

“Yah! Seriously?” J quips exasperatedly. 

“Yeah…” Taehyung sighs heavily. “It’s so fucking unfair isn’t it? Everyone should have the right to pursue their dreams.” Sips from his drink again. J gives Taehyung a look that is torn between annoyance and amusement. You don’t think that’s what she asked by ‘seriously’. You snort very unpleasantly at her expression when Taehyung continues. “But if I have been a cam boy, you two ladies would be my biggest fans,” He lets out a dreamy sigh. You and J both roll your eyes. “And of course you’ll pay me tons of money. And I’ll do my best to satisfy you both.” 

“We won’t pay you shit Taehyung. That’s a lot of over-fucking-condifident there. Why would you be so sure about that? Like do you have a monster cock or something?” J scoffs. Wrong move. Taehyung is the last person you should talk about cocks with. Too late, however. He smirks cockily. Wiggles his eyebrows playfully.

“I don’t know, do I? Maybe… Wanna see?” 

You fake gag when J clicks her tongue. “No thanks, no monster cock would be able to compete with Jin’s.” J looks away from Taehyung to Jin. You think she’s fascinating to be able to just not give a fuck about what anyone thinks. She’s so bold to admit that she likes Jin. Even though Jin doesn’t do the same. She’s obviously so smitten for the man and does nothing to hide it. 

Taehyung takes great offense in that, it seems. “Yah! That’s so not true.”

“It is true.” 

“Wanna bet?”

“Hell yes. How much?” 

You look back and forth between your two friends. A headache is starting to form. You think Taehyung learnt to put bets on everything from Jungkook. He says something about 20 000 Won. And J agrees. You feel mortified. 

“Gosh guys, will you stop?” You bow in apology to an old man who just walks past you. 

“No. She insulted my precious item and I need justice.”

“Eww don’t call it a precious item.” J counters.

“Why not? It is precious. Now I’m about to show you and prove you wrong.”

“Fucking stop, you guys.” You slap Taehyung’s hand which he just puts on his belt buckle. “Nobody wants to see your fucking dick, Tae.” You hiss. 

“No. No, let him Li. This is my chance to earn an easy 20 000.”

“Oh my god J, don’t fucking encourage him. He’ll do it for real.” You groan in annoyance and mild horror. Knowing Taehyung, you’re eighty percent positive that he’d do that. Taehyung chuckles. Says something about how good you know him when you suddenly catch a flash of blond in the corner of your eye. You stop trying to keep Taehyung’s hands away from his pants to turn around and find the man you wanted to see. 

Park Jimin.

In his iconic black suit. That damn earring back on one of his ears and smiling widely. Bowing to someone older. You feel your lips spread into a huge grin at his sight. He makes small talk with a few people before his eyes scan the room. Land on your corner table. A similar kind of a grin spreading across his own face. And oh, he’s alone. There’s no woman tangled up in his side. You scan the room quickly to find the said woman. Feel giddy when you’re unable to spot her anywhere. Jimin bows to the man he’s talking to and starts stepping toward your table. Almost waves to you when a sudden voice behind you interrupts. 

You think you saw Jimin’s smile suddenly drop and his face darken just before you turn around to see who’s the owner of the voice. 

“There you are, Honey. I was looking for you everywhere. That author is here- Owen someone and I want you to meet him. C’mon.”

You’re met with a middle aged woman. Her words don’t exactly register with you but you take her appearance in one go. And you freeze. 

“Mom?” You whisper in confusion. 

Mother.

This is your mother. The woman who gave birth to you. But looks far younger. All glammed up and in a black dress. Eyes bright. Not a single grey hair on the sight. Skin glowing. 

This is your mother. 

But something’s odd. 

“Yes. Let’s go Liya, before your father can find him.” She mumbles. 

And it hits you like a flash of lightning. You’re not in your world. Your mother can’t be here. This is not your mother. 

Liya. 

A painful pang erupts in your chest. Shoots across your body. Not unbearable but it’s definitely there. 

This is Liya’s mother and she just mistook you for her child. You open your mouth stupidly but before you can say anything Taehyung steps in.

“Hey, this is ridiculous. I mean it's one thing when other people can’t tell them apart but their own mother? That’s such a rude thing to do to your own daughter Mrs. Kim.” 

You turn your head slowly toward Taehyung. Feeling like your body is growing weaker by every passing second. Taehyung is scowling at Liya’s mother. Displeasure evident in his features. 

“What?” The older woman scowls deeper than Taehyung. “What are you talking about Taehyung? I have no time for your stupid jokes. C’mon LIya. This is your opportunity. She grabs from your wrist. And the pain intensifies when she calls you Liya, yet again. You feel nauseous. So close to bend down from pain. 

“Really? How come a mother can’t recognize her own children apart?” Taehyung doesn’t let her off the hook that easily. 

Oh, gosh, this is turning into a nightmare for you. The pain is becoming unbearable. Your sight is turning blurr. You’re trying so bad not to clutch your chest. Liya’s mother gives Taehyung an odd look. This is not good. 

“What on the earth are you talking about? What children?” She questions. Visibly irritated.

“Your children. How can you not identify your own daughters apart?” 

Oh, you want to throw up. How are you ever going to explain this to Taehyung and J. 

“What daughters Taehyung? Are you drunk this early into the event?” Liya’s mother clicks her tongue in disapproval. “That’s such a lowly-” The rest of her words drowns by a loud ring in your ears. Pain in your chest doubles up unbearably. You almost give up and bend down in pain when you feel a pair of hands wrap around you. Then you hear the familiar soothing voice. Like it’s from a dream.

“Hi Mrs. Kim.”

“Oh Jimin-ah, good thing you’re here. Your friend is drunk.”

“I-I’m not drunk.” Taehyung protests but no one pays him any mind.

“Yeah? Ah- I’ll take care of him later. I’ll just need my girlfriend for a minute.” You feel Jimin slowly pulling you into him. Tears are starting to prick your eyes. It hurts. Oh, it hurts. 

“No. No. There’s this author she needs to meet. Right Liya?” She turns her attention to you again. And freeze. Probably taking in your appearance. 

“Why do you keep calling her, Liya?” That’s a female voice. You guess it’s J. Liya’s mother ignores her completely. 

“Oh my god, are you alright, honey? You’re pale.” Instead she cups your face immediately. And everyone breaks into a sudden chaos. 

“Of fuck! Are you okay, Li?”

“What’s happening?”

“It’s just like that day at Jungkook’s?”

“We need to call an ambulance.”

“Oh my god, oh my god. Liya, talk to me honey. What’s happening? Where does it hurt?”

You don’t know who’s saying what. Every time the name ‘Liya’ slips through her mothers lips you feel like you’re a step closer to your death. You give up trying to hide your pain. Should’ve fallen down onto the floor if it wasn’t for the tight grip Jimin is having around you.

“No. Guys she’s fine. Just let me take her somewhere private.” Jimin tries in vain to take you away from the three concerned people. But then you hear a new unfamiliar voice too. 

“Oh, hi Liya!”

It’s turning dark.

“This is my fiance. This is Kim Liya honey… wait are you okay?”

That’s all you hear. Everything goes black. You fall into Jimin’s hands. Everything goes into a pitch black stillness. Yet then you swear you saw a mop of silver hair. And a pair of lifeless eyes. So, you know you heard someone mumbling against your ear. 

“You should've heed my warning, little thing. You just put yourself in this misery and you know what’s going to happen…”

It’s just darkness. Painful darkness. 

“You’re about to turn into ashes and….”

Jimin, you need Jimin. 

“This is it…”

All you need is Jimin. 

“The beginning of the END.” 

..............................................................................................................................

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

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Taglist - @chimmy-licious @graydolan12 @smoljimjim @likemeforme @sugas-baby-girl @canarystwin @jkayy @floboo6 @sunshinenmidnight @fiddlebiddls @unlikelycheesecakeenthusiast @mar-lo-pap @angelicsmilesworld @jimincrystal @datspjm @shakes0peare @butterymin @angellekookie @futuristicenemychaos @minijagiya @anumita-2007 @joulekanitz @llallaaa @fancypeacepersona @annyeongbitch7

[spacegyaru]

i can't take this edit off from my mind... i knew i have to write something about nagi 😭

cw: 18+ only! minors, dni pls! also, all characters are aged 21+. sexual themes ahead! also, mentions of alcohol and sm0king! / nagi as ur boy best friend (with benefits ;3) /also, he's a bit of a st0ner here so high s3x!

imagine nagi seishiro as your boy best friend who just wanna comfort you after a devastating breakup.

it wasn't supposed to happen like this. nagi was supposed to be your best friend. but it happened anyways.

you were so heartbroken after finding out that your bf cheated on you with another girl. you immediately broke up with him and you ended up crying and driving while on the way to nagi's house.

so you actually end up there. nagi saw you crying. your eyes were red and your cheeks were puffy.

nagi knew that your bf, now ex, is an asshole. but he's bad at feelings so he tells you something in between the lines of 'i told you so'.

you had a small argument with nagi but you tried to avert the topic by saying that you don't wanna talk about it. so nagi sighed and said that you could stay for the night while the both of you smoke and drink together.

so you started smoking some weed with him... it started off as just a small session between the both of you, with some strong beer involved of course. both of you were playing tekken while doing it.

somehow, while ranting about your ex, you said something in between the lines of 'he's not even good in bed' and boi you got his attention

you started saying things like 'his cock is too small', 'he can't kiss properly', 'it doesn't even hit the back of my throat', or 'he never made me squirt'...

now, nagi just looked at you weirdly. he asked you: "if he's gonna call you right now, are you going to pick up?"

of course, as a heartbroken girl, you didn't say anything at first... but you nodded and said "i'm sorry okay, i'm just a human..." before grabbing ur phone and checking if your ex texted

nagi rolled his eyes and tossed it on the bed. as you were trying to reach it, it caused you to fall on his lap.

well, for some reason, it started with doing a sh0tgun (sm0king thru the mouth)— then you ended up making out, not even minding the game anymore.

the clothes started to come off and eventually... both of you ended up fucking on his bed.

and that was the first time you actually felt good about it and orgasmed.

seishiro nagi flipped you in three fucking positions— and you can't even count how many times you came from his touch and from his cock.

the w33d even made the feeling better. nagi's touch felt sensual yet intense.

the morning after came and you realized what just happened. you looked at nagi with wide eyes and apologized, immediately putting on your clothes and running away. he was still half-asleep when you did this.

not gonna lie, the night felt so good and despite the w33d, you were still conscious. and fucking him was a fully-conscious decision. but you just didn't expect the aftermath to be so damn awkward.

that same night, your best friend, nagi called you— now, it's your choice to pick it up or not. 😉

okay guys im sorry for edging yall again but i might make pt. 2 for this too— im currently finishing the pt. 2 for kaiser's story 😌

[aperrywilliams]

Satellite Call. Part I: What You Kept Hiden from Me (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist | Series Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader.

Words count for this part: 3.2k

Series summary: Your world crushes when Spencer is arrested. Between finding a way to get him out and keeping you afloat, there is something else you need to focus on, too. And even when you thought things couldn’t go worse, a tragedy makes you question if you can make it through.

Part I summary: One of Spencer's trips to Mexico ends badly, and you don't know how to react and what to do.

Series warnings: ANGST (with CAPS). 18+ (MDNI). Some heavy topics will be discussed and shown here. Prison arc, but mostly from Reader's perspective and Emily’s. More detailed under the cut.

Spencer lies to his wife. Drug consumption (against their will). Pregnancy symptoms. Spencer is in jail for more than three months. Hospital visits, doctor’s info dumping (not accurate). Alcohol consumption. Arguing. Strong language. A lot of crying. Emotional breakdowns. A car crash happens (as in the CM storyline). Character dies. More hospital things. Miscarriage. More angst. Depressing symptoms. Mourning. Self-doubt. Suicidal ideation, and almost consummated. Emily is everyone’s emotional support.

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Spencer thought you would be outside the correctional, just as Penelope is now, waiting for him. But you are not. He either didn't ask JJ why you weren't with her picking him up from inside in the first place. Spencer just assumed you didn't want to be in there, and he understood your reasons. You stopped visiting him because it was hard to see him locked up like that and not do anything about it. Or at least it was what you said to him in a letter Emily handed him during a visit time when you didn't show up. It was a month ago.

After a tight hug with Penelope, Spencer couldn't help but ask.

"Where is she?"

JJ, Luke, and Garcia exchange a troubled look, something Spencer sure does notice. When he sees Garcia's glassy eyes, his gaze settles on JJ and Luke for answers.

"Spence, she—" JJ doesn't know how to express a fact she knows will break her friend.

"Man, she - we should go to the hospital right now." Luke chooses to point out what to do instead of why.

"What?! Why? What happened?!" A frantic Spencer starts to question. What the hell had happened to you? Why are you in a hospital? There are too many questions in his brain right now.

With a hand on his shoulder, Luke gently propels him to start walking to the car.

"We are going to tell you everything, I swear. But let's go to the car, okay?" This time, it's JJ's turn to speak, trying to make Spencer move.

Spencer hasn't felt so confused and afraid even in the four months of being locked up in jail.

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Five months ago

Exhausted. It's the definition of how you feel after the draining case you just ended in Tampa. The jet is quiet enough to assume everyone is sleeping. But although the evident tiredness consumes your body and brain, you can't bring yourself to sleep. Instead, you look at your front, where your husband is reading a book. His eyes look heavy, but you know he can't sleep either, not before decompressing first. And for that, a good book tends to work most of the time.

It's amazing how you can love someone so much. After two years of marriage and a couple of years as coworkers and friends before that, it isn't easy to think of Spencer as anything less than your soulmate and the love of your life.

You are lost in your thoughts, and you don't notice Spencer's eyes on you, a lazy smile on his face.

"Where did that pretty little head go?"

You don't know if the blush on your cheeks is from being caught or from Spencer's loving tone. Maybe both.

"Nowhere in particular. Just wondering."

"Yeah?"

"Mm-mm."

"Care to share?" Spencer asks with curious eyes.

"Well," you start, smiling at him. "Since you brought it up and knowing we have two days off, what about a getaway out of the city, huh?"

It's not a sudden idea. You and Spencer have been thinking about doing something like that for a few weeks. After a chaotic couple of months at the BAU, you both need time for yourself.

Spencer's eyes softened—a little pout on his lips.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry, but I promised my mom's doctor I would be in Houston tomorrow."

You don't remember Spencer telling you that. Could it be that you had forgotten?

"Oh. I didn't know. Something happened to Diana?"

Spencer shakes his head.

"No. Just the usual. The doctors are adjusting the treatment, and we're doing a follow-up, that's all."

Another source of stress for Spencer in the past months has been Diana's health. After an important decline, he got her mom into an experimental treatment in Houston. Spencer fought hard to get her admitted, and even if you weren't sure about it, you supported him in everything related to it. That's why you won't even protest losing another chance to spend time together.

"I'm sorry," Spencer apologizes when he sees you haven't said anything. Reaching for your hand, you hold it and squeeze it reassuringly.

"It's okay, Spence. You must be there. And maybe it's a good chance for me to have a long beauty sleep," you shrug. In all honesty, your body has been yelling for uninterrupted sleeping hours in the past weeks.

"I promise we'll make up for the lost time when I come back, okay?" Spencer offers, kissing your hand. You nod and give him a soothing smile.

Some weeks later, the loud ringing of your phone wakes you from your sleep. Not fully conscious of your surroundings, you pat to the right side of the bed, expecting to feel Spencer next to you, but it's empty. Then you remember you are alone because Spencer had to go to Houston again this week.

"Hello?"

"Did I wake you up?" A confused Emily asks at the other end of the call. You check your bedside clock, and it reads 11 AM. You have been sleeping for twelve hours now.

"Yeah," you rub your tired eyes. I think I caught something. My stomach feels funny, and I was so exhausted last night. What is it? Do we have a case?"

"No, but- Have you heard from Spencer?" Emily asks cautiously.

"He called last night and told me he would come back today." There is a tense silence between you both. "Emily, what's wrong?" you ask.

"You should come to the BAU." It's all she says, and you know something bad happened.

Everything has been a blur since Emily's call and your arrival at the BAU.

As you bolt into your boss's office, you see her, David, and Penelope there, a troubled expression on their faces.

Emily is who delivers the news. Spencer has been arrested in Mexico after a car chase and caught with drugs in the trunk.

It's like she is telling you a movie plot. There is no chance she is talking about Spencer, your husband. No, it can't be. Your husband left two days ago for Houston to check on his mom, as he has been doing in the past month.

But as much as you want to deny what you are hearing, Spencer's mugshot, appearing on Garcia's screen, is screaming the truth.

You think you might throw up. And you do. Quickly excusing yourself, you run to the nearest bathroom to empty your stomach.

It's the same Emily Prentiss who enters the bathroom after you and holds your hair as you keep kneeling before the toilet.

"We are going to bring him back. I swear. Everything is going to be okay," Emily assures you, rubbing your back.

You want to believe her, but not knowing why this is happening makes it hard to think clearly.

You insist on going to Matamoros with Luke and Rossi, and no one dares to protest. You're visibly upset and confused, but staying in Quantico is not an option.

On the plane, Emily sits in front of you. You know why.

"I swear I didn't know anything, Em. I'm as confused as everyone," you confess. "And it's killing me. I know Spencer never would do what they say he did, but either I can explain why he was there."

"I know, but you must have caught something. Has Spencer seemed nervous or extremely quiet lately? Maybe a phone call or something that made him change his mood."

You think for a moment. Spencer has indeed been more pensive in recent weeks, particularly since Diana joined the new treatment. It's also true he's told you less and less about how things are going with her. But you assume it's because he's been worried about everything going well and not because something bad was happening.

A memory suddenly appears in your mind. One night after arriving from the BAU, you were making something to eat, and Spencer left his phone on the counter while he took a shower. You looked at the device, thinking it might be from work, but the name 'Dr. Medina' appeared on the screen. You didn't recognize the name because, according to what Spencer had told you, her mom's new doctor was Dr. Hammond.

"After he checked his phone, he quickly called back, but he went to the bedroom to make the call. I didn't pay enough attention. I should have done—" You trail off, and Emily rubs your arm to comfort you.

"Hey, don't. We don't know if that has to do with what's going on, so let's not get ahead of ourselves."

It's easy to say but almost impossible to achieve, especially when, upon arriving at the Matamoros police station, in one of the cells, you see your husband lying on a bench with his eyes lost in the ceiling.

"Spencer?" you mumble, but loud enough to catch Spencer's attention. He sits and looks at you with eyebrows furrowed as if trying to remember who you are. Some feet behind you, Emily, Luke, and Rossi stand, witnessing your interaction.

Without saying anything, Spencer gets up and walks over to where you are, only separated by his cell bars. With that closeness, you can see the several cuts all over your husband's face; his clothes are torn. But what shocks you are Spencer's red and lost eyes. He is visibly high.

"Do you know who I am?" you ask almost in a whisper, scared of his answer. Spencer nods slowly, his eyes shifting from lost to sad. He recognizes you.

"I'm sorry." It's not much, but you can't hold it against him right now, not when answers are required in the first place.

"Baby, it's okay. We're going to get you out of here, okay? But you need to talk to us. Can you do that?"

It's not until a couple of hours later Spencer fully returns to himself, the effects of the drugs leaving his body.

For the sake of the case, you stay out of it while Spencer tells the team what happened. You don’t want Spencer to feel uncomfortable admitting he has lied to you for weeks.

After Emily conducts a cognitive interview to get details that could help, Spencer returns to his cell. When Emily, Luke, and Rossi leave the police station to search for evidence, only you are left there with him.

Spencer looks embarrassed, and you can feel the gears in his head turning as he tries to find a way to talk to you. When he comes empty of words, he addresses you instead.

"Can you please say something?" His voice is tentative and pained.

"I don't know what you want me to say," you reply honestly.

Spencer sighs deeply. "Tell me whatever you're thinking now. Yell at me, tell me I'm a fucking liar, that I dragged you into this mess, tell me I'm a terrible husband."

You consider his words for a moment. Is it true everything Spencer says is what you're thinking? It probably is, but you don't feel like you have the energy to bring it out the way he wants. However, there is one underlying question that has been on your mind since all this started.

"Why? Why you kept it from me? You don't trust me enough to tell me those things?"

"No, don't say that. I do trust you," Spencer rushes to say, but he knows it's a weak defense considering the circumstances.

"Then I don't get it. Why, Spencer?" Your tone isn't accusatory but sad. You could have helped him if you had known. But he, for some reason, decided against it.

"I was trying to protect you," he says and shakes his head. "I know it sounds stupid now we are here, but it's true. I didn't want you to worry about my mom's situation. I'm so sorry."

Spencer is probably telling the truth, but it doesn't make you feel better. Not seeing him behind bars like this.

The helplessness of not having anticipated this situation and now being unable to do anything to solve it eats you up inside. Despite that, you know Spencer is having it worse. So you, as his partner and who loves him the way you never loved anyone, decide to put your feelings aside to be his support at this difficult moment.

"It's okay," you assure him, placing your hands between the bars to hold his. Spencer is quick to respond and grabs onto your hands as if you were a lifeline to him. "We'll figure it out."

Spencer's eyes fill with tears as he repeatedly murmurs, 'Thank you' and 'I love you.'

You have always considered yourself a strong and tenacious woman. Since you were a kid, you have been independent and able to overcome everything that came your way. But adult life has continued to test you, and this has been no exception. When you find out Nadie Ramos has been murdered and all the evidence points to Spencer, you're about to break down. Still, you can't because if you do, who's going to support your husband? You have to be strong. Some reprieve emerges when you learn Ramos is an American citizen and Spencer can be prosecuted on American soil.

Baby steps.

The jet is mostly silent, save for Emily's occasional page-turning or Luke's typing on his phone. Rossi seems to be sleeping. You and Spencer are in one of the back seats. Spencer's head is in your lap while you absentmindedly play with his hair, looking at the night sky out the window.

"You think Scratch is behind this?" Spencer asks, pulling you out of your thoughts. You consider your answer for a couple of seconds.

"I do. I mean, it's such a damn elaborate plan. I can't think of anyone but Scratch."

Spencer assumes a sitting position and examines your face. He knows you are upset. Cupping your cheeks, he looks directly at your eyes.

"I have no words to say how sorry I am. And I promise to make it up to you for the rest of my life when this is over."

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. When you open them again, you are met with Spencer's expecting gaze.

"I know you will." And you really think that. "I love you, Spencer. I'm sure we are going to get through this." Your voice trembles with emotion, but your words seal a promise you mean to keep.

"And I love you. So so much. God, I'm so lucky to have you." Spencer's arms envelope you in a tight embrace. You melt into him, breathing his scent. It's the way you usually use to ground yourself. It's hard right now because, once the jet lands in Virginia, Spencer will get snatched from you, for God knows how much time it will take.

When the BAU elevator doors open, you find JJ, Penelope, and Tara waiting for you all. Spencer has his cuffed hands covered with your FBI jacket so as not to attract too much attention. Garcia is the first to rush forward and hug him.

You only have fifteen minutes. Then, the police officers will take him to the station to book him and leave him in a cell.

JJ and Tara hug him, too. You assume they are giving him reassuring words, something you know he needs right now. From your peripheral, you see Emily exchange glances with Stephen and retreating to Emily's office. You can't say what's going on, but curiosity gets the best of you, and you follow them. You know Tara, Penelope, and JJ will keep Spencer occupied for a couple more minutes.

"What? Is the bureau abandoning him?" You hear Emily ask, visibly upset.

"They said Reid traveled with his personal passport and didn't inform the office. That's enough for them to step aside," Stephen explains.

"So we don't have legal support," Emily confirms, and Stephen nods.

You can't help but interrupt the conversation.

"What? Spencer will not have a defense?" Both Emily and Stephen startle and turn to see you. While Stephen gives you an apologetic look, Emily is quick to speak.

"Not provided by the FBI, but it doesn't mean Spencer will be alone in this. We'll find a lawyer for him."

"They do want to bury this, don't they? It's bad publicity, and Spencer will fall for it," you start to complain, your breathing picking up speed.

"Hey! We won't let that happen, do you hear me?" your boss steadies you and makes you look at her with both hands on your shoulders. "But for now, Spencer can't know. Not until we get this figured out."

As in cue, you look through Emily's window and see Spencer still chatting with JJ and Penelope.

"This is a nightmare," you mumble. Emily squeezes your shoulder.

"We're going to solve it, I promise."

You see Spencer looking around with a frown. Penelope and JJ are still talking to him, but Spencer seems to be looking for something, better said, someone: you. Cautiously, you descend the stairs to join him. You know you don’t have much time, and you know you can’t tell him about the lack of a lawyer.

“Hey,” Spencer calls when he finally sees you.

“Sorry, I went to talk to Emily about something real quick while giving you time with the team.” You don’t want to delve into specifics and hope Spencer doesn't ask about it.

“Thank you. Can we talk more privately?”

“Sure.” You both move to a corner with fewer people around. Spencer’s eyes trail every part of your face as he wants to engrave you in his memory. At the lack of words, you frown. “Spencer?”

“I know this isn’t going to be easy. I’m terrified, and not just for me. I’m scared about how this will affect you and us. I just want to say that I love you with all my heart, but I will understand if this becomes too much. You don't owe me anything. Don’t feel obligated-”

“Stop! Stop right there. Don’t even try to finish that sentence,” you rush to cut him off.

“But-”

“No. You are my husband. You are the love of my life. You are the person I chose to share my life with. In thick and thin, remember?” You cup his face so he can look directly at your eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. Physically, we’ll be apart, but I won’t rest until I get you out, and we'll be together again, okay?”

Spencer’s eyes fill with tears, and so do yours. He leans down to catch your lips with his. He can’t hold you - he’s cuffed - but for now, you can do that work. Lacing your arms around his neck, you deepen the kiss, and you can feel your tears mixing.

“I’ll make it up to you. I promise,” Spencer mumbles on your lips.

“I know you will,” you mumble back before kissing him again.

Emily clearing her throat takes you both out of your bubble.

“I’m sorry, guys, but it’s time. Police are here,” she apologetically announces. You look at Spencer, and he nods. It's time. With a last lingering kiss and an ‘I love you,’ he turns and follows Emily down the hall. Spencer doesn't turn around because he knows if he does and looks at you, he won’t be able to leave you there.

You watch him walk away and wonder if this nightmare will end soon. You don't know if you'll have the strength to hold on to him and yourself and if the love you share will be enough to keep the hope of a better tomorrow alive.

------------------

Next part

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[ashleyrowanthewriter]

The News - Life and Times of Ashley the Crow (Crow HRT 6)

Previous

*************

Whenever a prominent and famous otherkin announces that they decide to transition into their species completely, and especially after they finish the process, it becomes the number one hot topic among the community. That was such a day.

"So they really made it through?" Arja said, looking into the sky.

"Yes. Half the fan base is in chaos."

"Lucky them. I wonder where they are now."

"Nobody's really sure. I bet on some lonely cave in the mountains."

Something about the clouds that day felt fervent that day. The world opened a new chapter.

"You know, they were a very big figure. A lot is going on. It feels like the greatest debate in the world."

"It really seems to dislike the idea of discarding your humanity just like that."

"It always tries to stop social changes. Individual, collective, one dog."

"So how loud are those who think it's suicide of the mind?"

"Greatly."

Arja sighed. "I fucking knew it."

"But other sides are getting believers too."

"And what do you think?"

"That you're still yourself. It's just your behaviour that aligns with your body."

"That's a nice way of looking at it."

"That's what the most proves point to."

Our talk brought my mind to a topic I wanted to move for a long time.

"Arja, do you want to go all the way?"

"Would you miss me?"

"Maybe. But I would root for you and appreciate our time together."

"Even if I had to go to a lonely cave in the mountains?"

"Yes, I'd get ready for that."

"Aw, that's sweet. But no, I'd much prefer to go for hybridisation."

"I see. Then I guess you're close. You'll be mighty, I'm sure."

"Thank you, sweetheart." Arja made a pause. She wasn't sure whether or not she wanted to ask her question. "Hey, if you could do it then how far would you go? Don't answer if you're not comfortable."

"All the way."

"Really?"

"Don't tell me there were no signs."

"I mean, there were. But with how much you like to write I wasn't sure."

"I think talons and the beak are enough to use a keyboard."

I quickly realised I wasn't telling Arja the entire truth. I knew that I should be more honest.

"Well, that's what I would like to say."

"It's not just about that. My body takes anything medical worse and worse recently. I'm afraid that if I tried to do it it would destroy me. And I'm not even talking about my heart anymore."

"Eh, as if it all couldn't leave you."

"Yeah."

"But didn't you got through much tougher stuff?"

"Last time I had new complications."

"And would you like Her to win?"

I knew who Arja referred to as Her. If you are in the otherkin community you have for sure heard about a particular writer. One that really wants us gone. One that I swore to one day be better than.

"True. I can let a lot of people win, but not Her."

"Now that's the Ashley I know."

"Hey one more thing."

"Yeah?"

"Would you like me to be your pet?"

"I don't think one can keep crows."

"Well, that sucks. And I guess that's another reason why I don't know anymore."

"Hey, we can still be friends. I can leave you fruits in a feeder."

"Thanks. I don't know what I could do for you though."

"Oh, just peck on the uninvited guests."

"And without violence?"

"I'm sure you'll figure something out."

*************

My crow cooldown has ended and here I go. I wanted to write about something else and less emotionally, but I changed my plans after I saw the last page from @ayviedoesthings . I think half the community did.

Also, for those who are like me and have a hard time learning idioms, "one dog" means roughly "there's no difference" and I encountered it in Polish.

Aha. Maybe there's a good reason why you can't adopt crows in many regions of the world, but not for a constitutional homo marriage ban. Caw with me if you agree.

[maxdibert]

Hi, regarding your "People who defend James’s stripping Severus in front of the entire school" Post. I am struggling with this from time to time, but I also like to ponder and discuss so:

I really like the fandom version of the Marauders, and I honestly do not really care for Snape because in the fics and art I interact with he is usually not part of. (I also read a lot of Muggle AU etc.. And I think another huge part is that I never really thought about how young he technically still was as a teacher because of Alan Rickman´s age. As a child I simply disliked him and never had an opinion on the Marauders as they appear so little in the movies. I guess it´s hard to move on from that?) What the Marauders did in Canon to Severus, and probably other students, was horrible. I agree. I also think Snape has his faults too, but the abuse against him shouldn´t be excused "because he was mean too". If you abuse and abuser, it´s still abuse.

I guess my question is what´s your opinion on the take to like the fanon version but not the canon version?

"The lengths some people go to twist facts and canon to conveniently excuse their favourite characters’ actions because they can’t accept them as they were is honestly incredible. Or maybe they just need to tell themselves they’re not fans of a couple of rich, abusive bullies because deep down they’d feel terrible about it—who knows."

To take the potential the Marauders have, the idea of a tight friend group in a magical school, explore different family dynamics... I like to play around with that and what was made of it. I think I can do that while acknowledging that what they did in canon was bad. It´s why I struggle with canon compliant stories, like their behaviour sucked. If I only knew the canon version I would not like them because I wouldn´t like "rich, abusive bullies". But changing the characters and their actions is, to me, part of what makes fanfics fun?

And of course I could do the same for Snape. But I didn´t and there is probably a lot to unpack on why I mostly ignore him. But. ultimately, to like him I would have to change him a lot from canon too. What the Marauders did as kids might have actually been worse (?) but how he became later makes me dislike him and for the Marauders we have more freedom to interpret how they turned out as adults. (Even though I just said changing the story is part of fandom and I could just make Snape nice... There are so many contradictions in all my thoughts on this topic)

Okay, this got really long and aybe a bit all over the place. You don´t have to answer this. But if you have any thought´s I´d be interested in hearing them :) This is also my first ever anon ask and I really don´t want to fight on this topic I just have a lot of thoughts.

My problem is precisely that the characters this new generation of the fandom has invented are unbearably boring. A bunch of normie kids who dress like Zendaya and her friends in Euphoria and have average teen drama issues that seem straight out of a cheap Netflix series. I mean, where’s the appeal in that? Where’s the appeal in turning Sirius into a whiny twink who just goes around pining for Remus Lupin—who, by the way, has suddenly become some sort of sassy alpha male—when their canon dynamic is way more interesting? When Sirius in canon is a guy with temper issues who thinks that just because he went to Gryffindor and has the “right ideas,” he’s managed to shake off the stigma of being a Black, yet remains as arrogant and violent as the rest of his family? When he has good intentions but has never really confronted who he is, where he comes from, and how ignoring that won’t make his behavior any less problematic? When he’s willing to do anything for James but simultaneously capable of deliberately ignoring Remus’s well-being? When he’s a rebel but still falls into the same abusive, hegemonic behaviors he was raised in? When it seems like his opposition to his family is a conscious choice, but it’s actually just the result of his mommy issues? He’s an incredibly complex character in canon, full of contradictions, and there’s so much interesting psychological exploration to be done with him. And you’re seriously telling me you prefer an OC with his name invented by the fandom who just cries over his non-canon boyfriend and feels validated because he paints his nails? Seriously???

Are you seriously telling me that James from the fandom—the goofy puppy dog protagonist pulled straight out of every cliché teen movie—is more interesting than canon James Potter, who is blessed with the wonderful depth of class hypocrisy for analysis and exploration? Are you really saying that a flat, soap-opera-level stereotype is better to write or develop than a rich kid who had every reason to be a Cedric Diggory but chose to be a Draco Malfoy? Are you really telling me it’s more interesting to write about the feminist girlboss icon of the 21st century that you’ve turned Lily Evans into rather than a complex, contradictory female character like the one in canon: a girl from a working-class town, spoiled and adored by her parents, who finds herself for the first time in a world that makes her feel even more special but where she doesn’t quite fit because of her background? Someone who, in her effort to fit in and be recognized, creates an image of herself as moralistic and perfect, yet in truth doesn’t stand up for or care about anything unless it directly affects her? The bullies target Mary Macdonald, and she doesn’t lift a finger or say a word until it suits her to end her friendship with Severus. She’s supposedly Severus’s best friend, but at the same time, she downplays the bullying he endures and even flirts with his abuser. She’s supposedly the epitome of morality, yet she marries a bully. Do you know how much room there is to flesh out those gaps? The things that aren’t clear? The sheer depth you can draw from that? And you seriously prefer a character ripped out of a 2012 Taylor Swift song over that? Is that honestly more interesting to you?

Do you really think that the sassy alpha-male version of Remus Lupin, full of quick-witted one-liners, is more compelling than the kid who disapproved of his friends’ actions but stayed silent out of desperation to preserve the safe space they represented for him? Who felt consistently left out of the bond James and Sirius shared? Who, even when what they did seemed utterly immoral, stepped aside because deep down he was so afraid of rejection that it made him a coward and a hypocrite? Who eventually drifted away from his entire group of friends because of his inferiority complex to the point that they even thought he was a traitor? One of his supposed friends nearly used him as a weapon to commit murder, and he forgave him without a word because he knew that standing up to him might mean losing everything. Are you really telling me that the cheap romantic drama version is more interesting than all of that in terms of exploring a character and the dynamics of dysfunctional friendships within that group? Really? Are you seriously saying you’d rather pretend Peter was just “there” than delve into how they treated him like a pet because he went along with all their mischief and they underestimated him so much they never realized they had a sadist among them? You prefer a convenient, nice Peter over a dark, deeply flawed one? Really?

Yes, the dynamic among the Marauders is fascinating, but it’s fascinating because it’s dysfunctional, full of power imbalances, clear differences in the relationships within the group, and a ton of things that don’t make sense unless you provide a coherent and in-depth explanation. It’s in that dysfunction where the intrigue, the plot, and the character exploration lie—not in creating an idyllic, problem-free group of friends whose drama arises from stereotypical romantic relationships. Not in creating OCs with canon names who bear no resemblance to the actual characters and have the depth of a sheet of paper. Sorry, but no.

And sorry, but I’m not buying the argument that the Marauders are “easier to explore” just because Sirius and Remus made it to adulthood, and Thewlis and Oldman were already in their 40s when they played their characters, making them middle-aged like Rickman. And Snape was their same age and spent the same school years with them.

So yeah, it’s fine if you’re not interested in a character, but the excuse is always, “I haven’t seen much of that character to be interested in them.” Well, if you only move in your own echo chamber, and that chamber happens to be full of haters, obviously you’re not going to see much. There’s a huge Snape fandom with tons of headcanons, people constantly creating and writing all kinds of content with all sorts of pairings and perspectives on him—you just have to look for it. I mean, literally, everything we know about the Marauders is because of Snape. Their youth only exists to enrich and explain Snape’s character. If we know anything about Lily and James, it’s because they serve to fill in Snape’s backstory. Otherwise, we would have only had the adult versions Harry imagines or knows (Remus, Sirius, and Peter), and we’d know nothing about what happened before. There is no Marauders fandom without Snape, because the concept of the Marauders as teenagers exists because of and for Snape’s backstory.

So honestly, my problem isn’t with the fandom but with the new fandom and its vision of the characters. Characters that don’t exist because they don’t resemble canon and instead feel like self-inserts with canon names. And I find it a waste because canon is so rich, and its characters are so unexplored, yes, but if explored coherently, they’re far more interesting than if they’re just turned into inconsistent projections.

[pursued-by-the-squid]

iii. location drop

pairing: eventual gi-hun x gn!reader x in-ho

word count: 7.1k

ao3 | masterlist

Young-il is so… interesting. In many ways he reminds you of yourself – he’s always studying the world around him, always listening, he can be remarkably serious and endearingly lighthearted in the same conversation, and he’s wickedly sharp. Much smarter than you are, that’s for sure, but you like that. It’s nice to speak to someone with so much life already lived and hear the way they view the world, even if it doesn’t always align with your own ideals. He challenges you, too. In ways you never would have imagined. That’s what makes him so intriguing.

His smile catches the light when you see him. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he says as he starts shrugging off his coat. His cheeks are flushed from the cold, his hair pushed away from his face in an elegant swoop.

You hum lightly into your cup. “Business stuff?”

Young-il nods. “Of a sort.” He eyes the extra cup of coffee on the table as he moves to sit across from you. “Trying something new?”

“It’s yours,” you correct. “Black Americano, right?”

Surprise tints his features and you feel a stab of pride for managing to catch him so off guard. “You remembered.”

His reaction shouldn’t sit as warm and cozy as it does in your chest, but you don’t fight it. Still, you try to play it off with a shrug. “I remember all kinds of things.”

A hand slips into his trouser pocket and it doesn’t occur to you until he’s pulling out his wallet that he wants to repay you. Before he can utter a single suggestion, you stop him. “Oh, no, that’s alright. I don’t mind,” you reply with a politely dismissive wave. “You can cover me next time, if you want.”

Truthfully, you’re still adjusting to the idea of purchasing whatever you want when you want it. You can’t (and won’t) go out and buy a brand-new sports car or anything, but even something as mundane as a coffee feels like a splurge with how strict you’ve been in the past. Gi-hun wants you to be happy, though, to have all your needs met, and if that’s what he wants…

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming,” you say after a moment. That wasn’t exactly what you had intended to say; you were trying to find something to say that wasn’t the same boring topics he always hears from you, but your mind had wandered and gotten lost somewhere between point A and point B.

Young-il’s still a bit taken aback, but you can see him smiling when he takes a sip of his coffee. “You would have missed me that much?”

He’s very clearly teasing you, but the fact of the matter is that yes, you would have missed him if he hadn’t shown. You don’t have many friends apart from him and Gi-hun who is, more often than not, busy doing whatever it is that he does. It’s not exactly a normal friendship, no matter how hard you strive to make it so, no matter how much you’ve come to care for him. Young-il, on the other hand, is less closed off, more engaging. He’s a normal businessman who does normal things like drink coffee and do guest lectures for some of the business students. You haven’t been able to see any of his talks yet, but you have a feeling they’re good.

You hide your own smile behind your cup when you go to take a sip, hoping that he doesn’t see just how tickled you are. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

The conversation flows loosely from there. Young-il has recently taken over his business from the previous owner and as a result, his time is limited. Too many meetings, too much paperwork, and a lot of strategizing. You, on the other hand, have several short papers due this week that you’ve been putting off, not to mention the final project looming in the back of your mind as each week ticks by.

“There’s an extra credit module I was thinking of completing,” you say casually, as if your heart isn’t about to beat right out of your chest. “We have to visit the art gallery here on campus and write a reflection about our experience.”

You’ve been thinking of asking him to go with you. It makes sense considering he’s always on campus. You might almost think him a student if you didn’t know any better. But the difference between thinking about asking and actually asking is great – you don’t even know if he likes art, if he cares enough about your casual little friendship to meet you outside of weekly coffee meetings and words exchanged in passing on your way to the bus stop. Maybe you’re asking for too much. What if he thinks you’re weird?

So it takes you by surprise when Young-il leans forward slightly, his curiosity piqued. “I wasn’t aware there was an art gallery.”

You wipe a bit of liquid from the corner of your mouth. Could it really be this easy? “Yeah! They have a rotation of displays and visiting artists. The one we have currently is focused on surrealism. They’re displaying copies of some famous pieces, as well as art from several of our students.” Your eyes dart nervously over Young-il’s frame, trying to determine how open he is to the idea. He seems interested enough. “I haven’t been to a gallery in a little while and the extra credit would help raise my grade a bit.”

He nods thoughtfully. “It seems like you’ve already decided to go.”

“I think so, yes.” Your lungs constrict painfully below the canopy of your ribcage. If you don’t ask now, you’ll never find the courage to try again. “Would you like to go with me?”

A moment ticks by uneventfully. Then another.

Searching Young-il’s eyes tells you nothing. You can’t determine what he’s thinking, no matter how hard you look. The only insight his silence offers you is the weight of his gaze as he studies you, as if you were the art piece and he the seasoned purveyor.

His head tilts ever so slightly to one side. “You want me to join you?” He doesn’t sound disinterested in the idea, but neither does he sound fully invested.

You swallow nervously. “Yes. If you want.”

“Why me? Surely you have other friends you could go with, some of the students in your class, perhaps?”

Ah. So he’s not interested. You can feel your face heat up with the embarrassment of his rejection. You suddenly find the shapeless stain of a former coffee spill on the table inexplicably fascinating.

“I guess I probably should have asked one of them first.” You try to wrap the tail end of your response in a light chuckle, but it’s forced and uncomfortable. You end up grimacing more than anything else. “I’m sure you’re busy, what with your business and everything.”

What you want to say is that you wouldn’t go with any of your classmates even if you were paid to do it. What you want to say is that you’ve come to greatly enjoy his company and the little breaks in your otherwise monotonous routine that his presence provides. But of course, you can’t say any of that.

You reach for your drink, hoping to fill the awkward space with a couple sips of something tasty, but you’ve already drained the cup. There’s nothing left except for a few spare drops.

Young-il shifts in his seat, drawing your attention as he adjusts his sleeves. He’s rolling them up to his elbow, exposing all that previously unseen skin and the muscles of his forearms, and… Oh. Maybe this means more to you than you’d previously thought. Maybe you’ve developed a bit of a crush. That’s embarrassing.

“Next Tuesday,” he says, his attention still focused on the task at hand. “I have a break in my schedule around noon.”

For a few scattered inhalations, you’re left feeling lost. You were so sure he was uninterested based on the, well, everything about him, but now he’s saying exactly the opposite.

“I… Huh?”

The corner of his mouth twitches and for the briefest of micro-minutes, you think you see something soft hidden in his eyes. “If you’re free then?”

Right. Next Tuesday. Noon. Your brain putters around for a bit as it tries to play catch up to the conversation, but eventually the fog clears. You have an opening in your schedule around that time, too, funnily enough. The date is set – not that it’s that kind of date – and the conversation fades back into normalcy, but the entire time your heart is racing because Young-il has agreed to go with you and you feel an abnormal amount of excitement pooling in your stomach because of it.

The thing is, Gi-hun has told you before that you ought to make more friends. He knows that he is essentially the only person you spend time with on a regular basis and he’s not sure if he should feel guilty or honored by that fact. He should be happy for you that you’ve finally found a friend, that you’re getting out of your apartment and socializing. It’s just that when he had pictured a friend, Gi-hun had imagined someone around your own age, not… this.

The unknown man looks closer to Gi-hun’s age than yours. Not that that’s a bad thing. He’s your friend too, isn’t he? He simply finds it worrying. Older men and younger college students are something of a suspicious combination, no matter how refined and put together they seem. Like your new friend.

Still, there’s nothing harmless about meeting a friend for coffee. An older friend. Who doesn’t seem to do much apart from loitering around the business building and talking to you.

You’re fine, he tells himself, even as he pulls the brim of his cap down over his eyes and sips at his own drink. You can take care of yourself. But it doesn’t hurt that he’s here to watch over you, just in case. The last person in a suit to approach you had turned out to be a recruiter and it would be foolish of him to assume that you’re safe simply because you’ve thrown the card away and started heeding his advice.

Jeong-rae and his men are busy scouting the subways with a few more sets of eyes than usual to make up for Gi-hun’s absence. He has a pistol on him in case things go badly or your mysterious new friend turns out to be something he’s not, but he thinks (he hopes) that won’t be necessary.

Your coffee meet-up ends within the hour. Gi-hun has already finished his own drink long before, but he keeps sipping at his cup to sell the illusion that he belongs here, tucked into the corner of the campus coffee shop and watching you. He tries not to feel like he’s doing something wrong. Because he isn’t. He’s keeping you safe. If you’d had family or friends in the Games when he was there, he would have sworn to look after you and that’s all he’s doing now.

You head for the bus stop, your friend heads for the nearest parking lot. Gi-hun follows. He watches your friend settle into a very normal looking car – not obnoxiously flashy, but not a rundown heap of scrap metal either – and drive off, and he follows closely in his own vehicle. And if he gets a bit of a rush from tracking this man down and vetting him, then that’s his own business.

The man drives to a corner store and disappears inside for several minutes. When he comes out again, he drops a bag into the passenger seat and leans against the door while he smokes. Gi-hun suddenly pretends to find his mobile very interesting. He double, triple, and quadruple checks his incoming messages – no sign of the recruiter so far – and eventually finds himself pulling out his own stack of cigarettes and lighting one up.

By the end of the night, Gi-hun’s mission leads him to a hotel in one of the quieter pockets of the city. Your friend is entirely unthreatening and uninteresting. He feels a little foolish for letting himself get so caught up in his own paranoia – taking a gun with him? Really? Whoever he is, this man hardly looks like the same unhinged species of psychotic as the recruiter that had sealed his fate so long ago.

You can handle yourself, he reminds himself, perhaps for the fiftieth time today. And he knows it’s true. You’re smart and very capable, even if you are a bit trusting. You’re not the problem – it’s the rest of the world that worries him, the recruiters and game runners of society who could snuff out your light without blinking an eye. He won’t allow it, not even if it aggravates his paranoia and leaves him sleepless in the early hours of the morning.

Gi-hun will just need to keep a closer eye on you. To keep you safe. It’s a small sacrifice to make in return for your life.

In-ho carefully studies his reflection, smoothing a hand over his hair and straightening the collar of his shirt. He doesn’t usually wear a suit when he meets with you like he does when conducting Game business, opting instead for dark, soft things like turtlenecks and knit sweaters. Spring is finally here, but the chill of winter still lingers, so he suspects you’ll be neatly bundled as you were when he met you in the autumn. He’s mirroring you, trying things that subconsciously lure you into a false sense of security, and you’re falling for it every step of the way. It’s no wonder Gi-hun managed to worm his way into your life.

Gi-hun.

His mouth curls into a self-satisfied smirk. 456 had been a bit of a surprise, admittedly, a wrench in his otherwise perfectly executed plans. But In-ho has the training of a decorated police officer; 456 is gutter filth. And gutter filth, no matter how cunning, how desperate, or how rich, cannot overcome decades of rigorous training with the best police force in the country. He spotted Gi-hun the moment he pulled out of the campus parking lot – the rest had simply been a game that he was willing to play.

Today is a game of another sort. In his youth, In-ho had never been much of a flirt. Charming, perhaps, even suave if he was in the mood, but a flirt? It just wasn’t his style. But there is something to the Young-il persona that prompts him to try. Perhaps it’s the anonymity. Maybe it’s the low stakes and high reward – you’re not a genuine romantic prospect, you’re a target, and that means that it’s not his ego being bruised by your potential rejection but his predatory prowess.

Except you haven’t rejected him. You have, quite surprisingly, invited him further into your life. You have carved out a space for him in the otherwise uneventful and meaningless scope of your existence, and In-ho is painfully curious to discover how far he can push you before you fall completely.

He arrives at the gallery nearly an hour early, content to peruse the art nearest to the entrance and sufficiently prepare himself. It’s been several years since he has studied art in any meaningful way. He was more prone to it in the years before Oh Il-nam and Gi-hun’s Game, but he was more prone to many things back then – holiday phone calls to his brother, flowers at his wife’s grave. He doesn’t have time for such things anymore. Still, he finds the familiarity of the art, the artist, and the solemnity of viewership a comforting thing.

When you appear several minutes before noon, short of breath and clearly frazzled, In-ho finds it difficult to suppress his smile. You make your intentions so clearly known without ever realizing how transparent you are. Eagerness is written across your face so plainly, it may as well be a brand. Your eyes light up when you spot him, like a child encountering their favorite toy. Only – no, that’s a poor comparison. As young and foolish as you may be, you aren’t a child. A pet, perhaps. Clever enough with the capabilities you’ve been born with, but ultimately submissive to the hand of the master that feeds it.

“Hi,” you greet him with a flash of a smile. You’re already pulling off your coat only to grip it in your mouth while you start rummaging through your backpack, all before he can get more than a simple ‘hello’ out in response. Hardly a minute later, you’re settled with a notebook and pencil in hand, and your coat shoved haphazardly into your backpack. “Okay. Ready.”

He allows himself a moment of genuine amusement. “You seem eager.”

“Always eager to learn, Young-il-nim,” you answer with a little tap of your pencil against your forehead.

He takes the initiative to open the gallery door for you, reveling in the small victory of your poorly hidden surprise. “I take it you haven’t studied much Surrealism before, then?”

You shake your head. In-ho is keen to observe your expressions, but already you’ve tilted your face away to analyze the first painting, a popular Dalí piece that makes a clear impact on you. You murmur your way through the informative sign plastered beside the canvas with furrowed brows and inquiring, contemplative eyes.

“That’s so sad.”

He scans over the sign, confirming the information he already knows – a commentary on the Spanish Civil War of the 1930’s, made by an apolitical artist who chose to side neither with the fascists nor the Republic that rose up to fight it. What is it about political neutrality that is so heartbreaking to you? Or are you, perhaps, more drawn to the hollow grief portrayed in the painting itself?

Before he can find the words to ask, you’ve already taken the initiative to expand upon your remark. “His sister was killed by one side and his friend by the other. But he still didn’t take a side.” The hand holding your pencil is hovering lightly over the sign, fingers almost but not quite touching the words – as if you were afraid to touch it and mar its tragedy with your own simplistic worldview. “I can’t even imagine that.”

Something akin to sympathy flares up inside him before quickly turning to the flush of displeasure. Not anger, not yet. “Imagine what?” he prompts.

At last, you turn your face and allow him the chance to swallow every minute, flickering micro expression. “Any of it. Losing your family to the people who are meant to help you and then losing your friend to the people who want to hurt you.” The knot in your throat bobs when you swallow. How curious that you seem to be so deeply affected by something you have no true understanding of. “I guess I wouldn’t know which side to choose either, but I can’t say that I’d want to side with the fascists.”

In-ho nods, unsurprised. No, he can’t imagine that you would either. He tries not to think too hard on the implications – of the painting, of your sudden swell of emotions, or of the memories already pressing hard against the interior of his skull.

Your head tips down as you scribble a few notes in your book, followed by the click of your phone camera. He glances over your handwriting, a mix of Korean and your native tongue, before you eventually step away, turning to the next piece. He stays, only for a heartbeat or two, eyes lingering on the canvas before finally deciding to trail after you.

Most of the pieces in the gallery are somewhat familiar to him, though he doesn’t care for all of them. Some are too fantastical for his tastes, some are too nonsensical. Others leave him feeling perplexed, as they once did when he was younger, more bereaved and less inclined to the logic that rules his life now. And then – then there are the pieces that remind him of the Games. Chess pieces in vast, unending landscapes. Peering eyes devoid of faces, studying the audience the way the VIPs study the players. Staircases that lead to nowhere and doors that open to nothing, tangling together like the labyrinthine maze of pastel walls he has come to call both his home and his work.

Your reaction to each of them is as predictable as ever. “‘We often believe we're being led to a higher place when perhaps we're not going anywhere,’” you read. Your pencil taps against the corner of your mouth. “Well, that’s a bit grim.”

He suppresses the urge to roll his eyes – barely. “Is it?” Surely you can see the logic in such an argument, even if you don’t agree with it? Or must he spell everything out for you?

The gears in your head begin to turn, slow and steady. “It sounds more like depression to me than an actually viable outlook on life. Maybe you aren’t going anywhere because you’re holding yourself back, you know? You’ve closed all the doors that you can escape through and now you’re ramming your head into the wall, wondering why nothing’s happening.”

In-ho’s exhalation is heavier than it usually is, the tone of it caught somewhere between amusement, contemplation, and disbelief.

“Not that I’m judging him for feeling that way, Mister…” You lean in to check the name of the artist. “M.C. Escher.”

“I suppose you find it hard to relate to – feeling hopeless?” It’s not entirely fair of him to say and he is more than aware, but he wants to see that spark in your eyes. He wants to hear you explain yourself. Prove to him how miserable the world is, that your vision is flawed.

But where In-ho had expected anger, he instead finds something more subdued. The subtle tilt of your head, betraying the indignation you feel at his assumption. The flexing of the muscle in your jaw. The deep inhalation that makes your ribs expand. You make a sound in the back of your throat, a quiet hum overflowing with enough emotions that he can’t possibly translate them all. “I didn’t say that,” you murmur. “I just… prefer to be optimistic instead. When I can be.”

You don’t seem to like the labyrinthine staircases leading nowhere and he wonders, not for the first time and far from the last, how you would fare in the Games. Optimism is beloved by the naïve – it won’t get you very far. How would you have fared in his Game? In Seong Gi-hun’s? How quickly would your optimism have killed you?

He takes another opportunity to study you as you shoulder past him, still clearly upset by his remark. You are such a sensitive thing. How do you manage to survive in the world burdened by the weight of your own sympathies? Is it Gi-hun’s money that eases your heart, makes it easier to ignore the death and corruption all around you? Is it your own ignorance that makes life bearable?

His hands twitch with the sudden desire to pull you apart and discover exactly what it is that makes you tick. What mechanisms lie beneath your skin? Would you cry if he pulled them out one by one? Would you rage?

“I’m sorry,” he says, coming up behind you as you move to the next collection of works. “I’ve upset you.”

“No,” you reply, too quickly for it to be anything other than a lie. “I just wanted to look at the others, that’s all.”

You’re a terrible liar, at least when you’re agitated. In-ho rests his hand on your shoulder, his tongue already sharpened with the blade of a few clever words, when he happens to look up and catch a glimpse of the painting you’ve chosen to study. It hits him all at once – the empty nights, the cheap bourbon and even cheaper whiskey, the agonizing pit in his stomach, the hospital bills – and suddenly, In-ho finds that he can do little more than stand there, his mouth agape, and sway against the current that threatens to sweep him off his feet.

René Magritte. L’Empire des lumières. He would know it anywhere.

He’s distantly aware of you turning to look at him, your shoulder twisting under his hand, your voice curling around the shape of a stranger’s name, but it’s little more than a vague, hazy noise in the back of his mind.

A brightly illuminated sky dotted with pearlescent clouds. (He thinks of the arenas, splattered with blood.) A darkened street. Trees silhouetted against the clouds. A house, lonely and empty, its reflection in the water below unfocused. (He thinks of the apartment he’d had with his wife, how empty it was when he returned home from the Games.) A single lamppost illuminates the darkness of the house. One. Alone. Sturdy and strong, blazing against the emptiness.

“What is it? Young-il-nim?”

“My wife...” The words croak out of him, unbidden, unwanted. He shakes his head to try and clear his thoughts, but he can’t shake the memories.

Your hands drop – wherever they had been on his person previously, he doesn’t know, nor does he care. All he sees, all he knows is the apartment he had holed himself up in after she died. Some small, cramped shoebox that offered less personality, less freedom, than the rooms he offered to his own soldiers. The two little fish on his desk, long dead by now. The books he left behind. The card from his first Game – the only thing left of her. The paintings.

The paintings.

He can still remember the first time he saw them. Drunk on grief and so violently angry at the world, he had stumbled his way through Seoul, reliving the old haunts from the happier days of his marriage. The theatre, the mall, the academy he had graduated from, the gallery where they met… He remembers his face being wet with spit and tears. He remembers peering in through the darkened windows, searching for something that no longer existed. He remembers the paintings, the isolated lamppost standing tall in a sea of hopelessness. He remembers thinking he may as well be that lamppost, trying desperately to illumine an abandoned house haunted by the Games that had stolen his hope, his humanity, his last moments with the only person in the entire world who could have saved him.

In-ho pries desperately at the air around him, trying to relearn how to breathe even as he’s swept below the current. He’s only vaguely aware that he’s left you behind, that his surroundings have shifted. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters.

He should have known better. Magritte is one of the most popular artists in the genre. He should have expected to see his works, but he hadn’t been thinking clearly. He was so focused on his game, on luring you further into his trap and wielding the victory over Seong Gi-hun’s head. He was so busy playing the Front Man that he had forgotten Hwang In-ho.

“I need to apologize.” It’s the first thing he says when he sees you again, almost two weeks later.

You wave him off very politely, but he can tell that you’ve already started to close yourself off to him and that simply won’t do. After everything he has suffered and endured to lure you and 456 into his trap, he will not allow his plans to crumble over a past he cannot change.

“It’s alright, Young-il-nim. I could tell you were upset. I’m just glad you’re okay.” Your eyes are sad for the first time since he’s met you. “I was worried.”

For a moment – the briefest, most fleeting of seconds – he allows himself the indulgence of your compassion. He may not need it, but it is a balm on the freshly torn open scar of his grief all the same. He covers your hand with both of his in thanks. The words don’t come for a very long time.

“My wife died eight years ago.” And he can still see her face even now, even after everything he’s done. “We met in a gallery, like the one here. She loved art, loved the theatre and music. She was… bright.” Like a streetlamp illuminating the darkened eaves of his heart. “After she died, that painting was the first thing I saw and it–.”

He’s struck by the onslaught of tears poking at his waterline. He shouldn’t be telling you any of this. Yet some ancient corner of his heart that had shriveled up the night he held her death certificate in his hands is crying out, desperate to be heard, and for once, In-ho doesn’t have the strength or will to fight himself.

“It reminded me of what she was to me – a light in an unforgiving world.” He swallows hard as the world swims all around him. He can feel your gaze on his cheek, your fingers curled around his. “I hadn’t expected to see it again and I reacted poorly.”

The swiftness of your reply nearly guts him. You press your body closer to his, from your shoulder down to your knees as you lean in, voice soft and eyes misty. “You didn’t… you didn’t do anything you shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.” You rub your thumb over the back of his hand and all In-ho can do is stare. “I’m sorry you had to relive that. That’s… I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

It isn’t worth much, but the apology is kind and he appreciates it for what it is.

“What was her name? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“Min-jung.” Her face flashes across his memory again – the wide eyes and bright smile he had fallen for so instantaneously, the laughter, the joy. “Kang Min-jung.”

You repeat the name to yourself with a reverence he doesn’t expect, but then, he hadn’t expected any of this. For all the control he tries so desperately to cling to, In-ho is wildly out of his depth. He feels unmoored and listless.

“It’s a beautiful name. I’m sorry you lost her.”

He nods. “As am I.” It’s the truest thing he’s said in years.

“Is there…” Your mouth tilts into a frown as you search for the right words. “Is there anything I can do for you?” The inclination of his head and the exaggerated lifting of his brows encourages you to explain further. “I just feel bad. You wouldn’t have reacted like that if I hadn’t invited you with me.”

There, he realizes. It’s an opening, a crack for him to slip his fingers into and apply some pressure. A glimpse at control. After two weeks of drowning in memories and grief, In-ho relishes the thought.

“You have nothing to apologize for, [___]. But I would like to make it up to you, if I can.”

“You don’t have to–”

He raises his hand with a smile. “I would like to.” And because you are the naïve, optimistic thing that you are, you will say yes. “Allow me to drive you home today.”

The first time he enters your apartment is a bit surreal. It had been a hired hand to install the camera that he studies you through and he’s learned quite a bit that way – your practically non-existent breakfast routine, the things you watch on your TV (you’ve rewatched the same show at least five times in the last month and a half, surely there’s something more fascinating you could be doing with your time?), and sometimes he can even catch a conversation or two between you and Gi-hun. Those occurrences are always so interesting. But actually stepping into your living space provides In-ho with even more context to the knowledge he’s already gathered.

You have a very specific taste in candles, not wholly unpleasant but perhaps a bit of an acquired taste. There is an entire wall of your living room that has been unviewable until now, mostly wall décor of the variety people your age tend to obsess over like pop groups and Western franchises, but there are other things too. A photo album of your time spent in Seoul. A crisp, dried-up plant that might once have been green. Little trinkets you’ve clearly purchased at some hole-in-the-wall tourist trap. And the amount of books you own is surprising. Old textbooks from classes long since passed, well-worn Korean workbooks, even romance novels that would make any sensible person flush with shame.

“It’s just down there,” you say, pointing vaguely to your right as you shrug off your backpack. “The door doesn’t always close fully, so you have to push it a little hard.”

He nods his thanks and starts down the hall. There are two doors: one to your bedroom and one to the toilet, though there’s only one that he actually finds interesting. He manages to sneak a glance into your room as he passes, but the shades are drawn and the door is only slightly cracked, so there isn’t much to see. In-ho thinks that one of his cufflinks may eventually find its way inside.

The bathroom is as uninteresting as he had suspected it would be, though small things still catch his eye. He cannot truly recall the last time he was so thoroughly surrounded by the presence of another person. Your scent lingers in the hair products, body wash, and body spray, your personality sparkling in the bits of jewelry scattered on the counter. Your favorite color is made apparent in the towel, toothbrush cup, and floor rug, and even your underwear preference jumps out at him. You must have left them on the floor after you showered this morning.

In-ho feels a surge of memories flaring at the base of his skull, begging to be released, but he pushes them back. This isn’t domestic. This is business, plain and simple. The comparison is superficial at best and he will not entertain it.

He flushes the toilet to keep up appearances, washes his hands, then quickly undoes one of his cufflinks. It rolls quietly down the edge of the door until it finally stops somewhere inside your room, and he smiles to himself, just for a moment, to revel in his success.

You flash him a smile of your own when he re-enters the sitting room. “All better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

You’ve curled up on the sofa in his absence, scrolling absently through your phone as he meanders toward the front door. “Oh, are you- are you leaving already?” And don’t you sound so distraught at the idea?

“Unfortunately, yes. I have a business meeting in a few hours,” which is a blatant lie, “and I don’t want to take up too much of your time.” He goes to adjust his jacket sleeves one at a time, waiting patiently, patiently for you to rise from your seat and bid him farewell.

“Aw. Well, good luck with your meeting, I guess.” You reach past him to open the door. “Don’t work too hard, now. You might hurt yourself.”

In-ho chuckles. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He fixes his other sleeve, fingers fumbling with the empty space where there ought to be cool metal, and he halts mid-step.

Your eyes drift to the open part of his shirt sleeve where his wrist is exposed. “You okay?”

He schools his face into something more serious. “My cufflink is missing. I… I could’ve sworn I still had it in the car.” As if he actually cares about something so trivial.

Much to his delight, your entire expression crumples. “Oh no! D’you think you lost it somewhere in here, or…?”

You accept the lie so easily, it’s no wonder that 456 was able to approach you. Are you truly so gullible that you cannot see through even the simplest of manipulations?

“I’m not sure,” he hums.

“Can I see?”

True confusion wrinkles in his brow when he looks at you. “What?”

One of your hands lifts to point at his right arm. “The other one. Can I see what it looks like?”

In-ho nods and offers his hand without hesitation, twisting his wrist to allow you a better view, but he finds himself stilling as you draw nearer. Your expressions are always genuine, but often some level of restrained or distanced. You like him, but you try not to show it. Yet now, as you had only an hour before, all that hesitation seems to dissipate in the wake of this small inconvenience.

And then you touch him. It is a brief and unassuming thing, merely the press of your fingertips on his forearm as you tilt his wrist toward you, but for In-ho, you may as well have shot him point blank. Some strange uncertainty passes over him, accompanied by a tightening in his chest and a hesitation in his lungs.

“I’ll take a look around in here,” you say, as casual as you ever are and entirely blind to his current state. “Maybe it fell off when you came inside.”

The collar of his shirt feels too tight when he swallows. “I’ll check the bathroom.”

You aren’t afraid of him. The realization is akin to the detonation of a bomb. Here, in this moment, he is not Oh Young-il. Young-il is a vulnerable dream wrapped in just enough mystery to keep you coming back to him time and time again. In this moment, he is the Front Man, he is a man with decades of police training and cunning drilled into his skull. And you aren’t afraid of him.

He wanders into the bathroom with unseeing eyes, his forearm tingling in the same spot where you’d touched him. Your toothbrush stares back at him, unblinking and undisturbed by the intensity of his glare. How many years has it been since someone looked at him and was visibly unafraid? How long since he has felt the touch of anything beyond the clinical sting of forceps and his brother’s bullet in his flesh?

Hyung…

He squeezes his eyes shut against the sound of Jun-ho’s voice, the frayed nerves around the edges of his bullet wound suddenly twisting in agony.

“I’m going to check outside!” you call from the sitting room. “Be right back!”

This is ridiculous. Even as he shoulders his way from the bathroom to your bedroom, he can feel himself growing more and more agitated. The overhead light flickers on as he swoops down to grab his cufflink. You’re nothing more than a pawn in the grander game. You have no clue how incredibly unremarkable and minuscule you are. His gaze flits over framed photos of your friends and family, the unmade bed, the hamper of folded laundry and the lazy pile of dirtied clothes just beside it. You’re nothing, no one. He could squeeze the life out of you right now and no one but 456 would even miss you.

The tendons in his hands constrict, suddenly curling his fingers into fists. He could do it. You would fall apart so easily in his hands.

He looks to the small, cluttered table beside your bed. A clock, a bodhisattva figurine (likely from any number of the temples across Seoul), a phone charger, a book. You are so painfully mundane. Killing you would be a favor, to himself and anyone unfortunate enough to know you, and it would shatter Seong Gi-hun. That much he can be sure of. So –

In-ho pauses mid-step. His pulse ticks just below his ear. He turns.

The book on your table is brand new, he can still see the price sticker along the spine and the receipt you’ve manufactured into a bookmark, but that isn’t what draws his eye. It’s the painting on the cover, the name of the artist that makes him feel as if he’s just been dragged to the lowest depths of the ocean.

René Magritte – L’Empire des lumières.

He would know it anywhere. He spent five whole years staring at the damn thing from inside the four cramped walls of his shithole apartment. The first painting he saw after…

He rushes for the exit as fast as his legs will carry him.

“Did you find-? Are you okay?” You’re standing just inside the front door, your phone in hand and the flashlight still turned on, peering curiously at him.

He very nearly drops his car keys when he tries to snag them from the table. “I have to go.”

“Is everything alright?”

He doesn’t reply, can’t reply. There aren’t words. But your voice lingers long after you’re gone. Other things linger too, other pieces of the past that haunt him no matter the time or distance spent trying to disconnect himself. He feels flayed apart and exposed. He feels raw. He feels… angry.

He buys himself a bottle of whiskey on his way back to the hotel, the cheapest, shittiest brand with the most bitter taste. He drowns himself in it. He spends the entire night locked inside his hotel room, his insides pulling at his outsides, fingers itching to pull the trigger on a loaded gun. You, Gi-hun, himself, he doesn’t care who dies, so long as the influx of memories and regret and utter fucking loneliness dissipate and he is allowed a moment of peace.

But for a man like Hwang In-ho, for the Frontman, he knows there is no such thing. Peace is a luxury only afforded to a few, usually the rich fucks who fly themselves to the island to bet on lives and bloodlust.

You likely think you have that same peace, bloated as you are with Gi-hun’s money. You hadn’t been so different from him before 456 came into your life – a student with a dream, low on funds but high in hopes – except you had found favor where In-ho had not. There was no rich, pathetic billionaire with a guilty conscience to spare him several hundred thousand won when his wife and child were dying. There was no mercy to be found in the cruel and selfish loan sharks, doctors, or police chiefs. There had only been the Games and their unfaltering equality.

His lip curls into a snarl as he downs the last of the whiskey. Equality. 456 had shattered that illusion, but In-ho knows exactly what to do to piece it back together. After all, there’s only one place in the world where true equality exists.

[deus-and-the-machina]

ffxiv garlemald discourse is so funny because people will go "ugh people just cant stand it when things aren't black and white" and then you look at how the empire are portrayed in stormblood and shadowbringers and its like hm. that seems like a pretty intense and accurate display of violent imperialism to me! Wow I wonder why people in this day and age may find it hard to feel sympathy for them or even hate them on principal. god its such a mystery.

the games like 50/50 to me on how it tackles these themes because I actually like the garlemald arc in EW, I think it has a lot of horrific and powerful scenes depicting how self destructive fascist propaganda and beliefs are, but I also think it doesn't go far enough on some fronts. the garleans' xenophobia is most notably and obstacle to getting them to accept the contingent's help, which is what they're there to do,

but there's never an admission of harm from any garleans on the uuuuuuuuh massive amount of war crimes the nations around them are still suffering from they're just kind of like "we misjudged you...but you actually wanted to help us all along" like yeah thats great now can we get you all some deprogramming because you keep talking about returning to your prime and glory days and I think we need to unpack some stuff you really SHOULDNT return to. im not even really talking about EW proper but the patches where things are a bit more chilled out and people are recovering.

It feels like they wanted to have their critique of imperialism and also have things end with the beauty of human connection and reaching out and these things just don't mesh well because hey a lot of your modern day audience is not gonna like having to treat people yelling xenophobic things at the cast and your character with kid gloves after you showed them hours and hours of the awful things these people's beliefs have done. especially in the present day hoo boy.

[bluevveather]

Wait people eat horse meat for real??

Oh damn I forgot asks are a thing i can receive lol sorry for the probably late answer!

It's a domestic animal with a lot of meat on it that tastes ok, so why not? People tend to react similarly to it as most do with the concept of eating dogs though so it's not super common everywhere for all classes but it definitely does happen. Pretty sure it's relatively common in Finland for example.

Humans have been eating horse meat long before we domesticated them like... very long before. I'd recommend looking up stuff about human horse interaction throughout history. It's very interesting to see how things change over time!

[sl33py-g4m3r]

a bit of thinking before bed~~ just yelling into the void, not about cookie clicker this time~~~

what would've happened if we'd either, started using nuclear energy for power straight away, or never started to deal with it at all?

Is there a safe way to do nuclear energy that doesn't cause environmental disasters if things go awry? or is it going to happen? if it's going to happen anyway if there's a disaster, is the power source even that safe to begin with?

what if we'd never started to use the nuclear energy for bombs and weapons of destruction?

I feel that we outright just shouldn't use nuclear energy for anything at all~~ it seems much too dangerous if things were to fail~~~

just like guns and tools of war, that scares me~~

why would we risk creating power out of something that can cause widespread devastation? why did we first start making it into bombs and weaponry?

is there any turning back? stopping the use of nuclear bombs and energy? or is there no getting off of this train?

can nuclear energy ever be safe? if so, how?

I feel we shouldn't use something like this for power production, or destruction.... there's too much risk to humanity if things were to fail or war breaks out where everyone is firing nuclear missiles at each other..... and who wants that?

[not-the-grave]

the depth of abandonment trauma i'm discovering i have is kind of insane

[alchemiclee]

as a fellow introvert; we are social creatures. introverts who purposefully see no one for months on end are usually just in a cycle where its been so long since they’ve hung out that it’s too intimidating for them to do anymore. i 100% feel tired after hanging out with my friends but i DO also feel happy and refreshed! tl;dr - you’re super normal lol. try to reach out to a couple people just to chat this week <3

thanks for reaching out I really appreciate it❤️ but I have to rant a bit. I allow you to ignore it!

I wish to not be a social creature because going too long without having a friend to talk to or not having someone to talk with almost daily feels bad and it's so hard to have a friend when I need one D:

i've been reaching out to people for the last few weeks or so but they don't reach back. try playing games with people but they play with their other friends or dont feel like playing. invite people to hang out but they say maybe and never give an answer or don't respond.

I don't want to bother my closest friends in our group chat too much in our group chat but the chat is mostly me sending messages with no response and even couple times saying I need a friend when I was having bad days but they didn't want to chat and I dont want to force anyone to entertain my lonely depressed ass. (especially when all I really needed was to talk about the new star rail stuff to distract me but I don't think they've finished it yet so I don't want to spoil) they live together so they always have to socialize and probably make each other tired without needing to add me to it.

so i've also been trying to reach out to new people, like joining twitch chats again for the first time in years. but that never goes well and doesn't satisfy my social needs. too many people talking at once and being the new person no one cares about and all....getting to know a new is very exhausting. but it's so hard to just be able to skip all that getting to know each other stuff jump straight into talking about a thing we both like (in this case it's star rail and cosplay and maybe art) I don't have enough already-known people to reach out to and i'm too tired to do the small talk dance until it's appropriate to jump into special interest territory. being autistic is so exhausting. I with to be one of those rare autistics I sometimes hear about that have 0 interest in social interaction at all

so as you can see, i'm trying. so hard. to the point I'm exhausting myself. it's been too much work for no payoff and makes things feel worse when the outcome isn't what I need and its constant reaching with no one grabbing my hand back. so I keep making annoying tumblr posts about it. i'm so sorry to anyone that reads my nonsense 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 this is a normal thing with me but it's usually kept to my other blog that's reserved for more serious posts like this but I tried posting here as a way to "reach out" and see if it invites any friendly friends or something but I don't think i'm doing it right...

(but I am going to a con tomorrow with someone I haven't talked to in like 2 years. but we don't have anything in common anymore so theres not much to talk about. he's the only person who responded to me after trying to reach out for like a month but I fear it will only exhaust me being around too many people and not help this gross need to have a deeper connecting socialization D:)

[choslut]

˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ BABY MOMMA. featuring k. nanami.

↻ there’s nothing nanami wants more in the world than to make you a mommy, and give you his beautiful kids.

tags : breeding kink, creampie, mommy kink (if you squint), messy sex, pet names, feral nanami, marathon sex, lactation + pregnancy (fantasized), ovulation cycle // wc. 0.9k

author’s note : sorry this one’s a lil late, i’ve been busy with theme changes and real life is throwing a million and one hurdles at me and i just can’t keep up 😞 you can't tell me that nanami wouldn't be a massive family man, so here i have him completely desperate to start a family with you and give you his babies. notes and reblogs are always appreciated, and check out my masterlist for non-event based works <3 !!

this work is NSFW. minors and ageless blogs DO NOT INTERACT.

it’s been hours. hours since nanami even proposed the idea of trying for kids, and now, it’s all he can fucking think about. 

it’s all you can think about too, given the fact that he’s fucked you out of your mind, legs numb from being in missionary for as long as you remember with nanami plunging in and out of you, the tip of his cock nudging your cervix with every single thrust. 

it’s repetitive. it’s addicting. 

“hah- kento, can’t take no more…” your voice is a sheepish babble, nails digging into his back as tears stream down your face. “ ‘s too much, ken, please–“

nanami grunts in your ear, hips never ceasing movement as he ruts into you. “g’na have to, sweetheart. this one’s gotta take.”

he said that about the last one, and the one before that, and the one before that… and fuck, you can’t keep up with how many times he’s said it because he’s been going at it for so long with only one goal in mind. 

he’s gonna give you kids. he’s gonna make you a mommy, and you’re gonna raise his kids with him as his wife. 

it’s all he’s ever wanted. it’s all he’s ever dreamed of, and when he watches you lounge around the house wearing nothing but a bra and his oversized dress shirt and a wedding ring fit snugly on your finger, he really can’t stop himself from imagining what you would look like with a swollen tummy, breasts spilling out of that same bra. 

“g’na give you my kids baby…” he’s rambling half out of his ass, his brain scrambled by pure need. “gonna make my girl a mommy. you’re gonna be a great mommy, aren't you?”

he’s brought up the topic before. it was never anything serious, just asking you what you would prefer and never really thinking of his own volition. you had always agreed with him wholeheartedly, and it would somehow lead to the two of you cooing over baby clothes and strollers but never anything more. 

nanami is fucking sick of it. he’s sick of fawning over the idea and not doing anything about it. sure, you’ve made love a couple of times, but it never held any true intent, focusing on the pure need to give each other pleasure. 

well, now, nanami needs more than pleasure. he needs to see you with that swollen tummy and those massive leaky tits, and there’s only one way to do that; fucking you within an inch of your life and cumming in your cunt until it finally takes. 

“kento–“ you seemingly haven’t gotten bored of it yet, despite having been at it for over two hours. your back still arches with every bump to your cervix, nails still raking down his back as his sweaty chest squashes your own. “this one’s gonna take, promise.”

“i can’t be sure of that,” he states matter-of-factly. “although your tracker says you’re ovulating, we can’t just trust that once or twice will be enough.” is he sure of this fact? no, but he is sure that you feel too damn good to stop, even though he’s already finished inside of you enough times to guarantee your pregnancy ten times over. 

you just look so beautiful beneath him. you wear the radiance of sex extremely well, eyes fogged over and mouth hanging open as your steamy pants echo in his ear. you’re borderline intoxicating, and that’s why nanami can’t stop, even though he knows you need him to before you pass out. 

“look at me, angel. i wanna see you.” you weakly turn your cheek away from the pillow and look up at him, lips stained a gorgeous red and swollen from his kisses. “you’re gonna be such a pretty momma.”

your eyelids flutter and your back arches weakly as you cum again for the final time, garbled moans of nanami’s name flooding from your throat. despite the longevity of your session, your cunt still manages to squeeze around him impossibly, and nanami groans deeply, arms sliding around your hips as you pulls you forward to meet his thrusts. 

“kentooo…”

“i know, baby, i know.” the sheets are soiled with your sweat and his, and the tight clampdown of your walls propels him to cum one final time, hips flush against your twitching clit as he pumps you full. 

you both stay like that for a beat, nanami folded over your twitching body before he finally pulls out slowly, and when he does, the sight he’s met with is so incredibly dirty that he can barely believe he was the one to reduce you to such a mess. “oh, angel…”

copious amounts of his release flood from your cunt, leaving a translucent pool on your sheets. whilst he absolutely loves the sight and wishes to brand it on the forefront of his brain, nanami’s goal is still clear as day. 

he leans down and kisses your overstimulated clit, fingers dancing around your twitchy hole and gathering up his release before pushing it back inside with a curl of his fingers that makes you want to scream. 

“can’t waste any, my dear, or it might not take, remember?” when he looks up at you from in between your trembling thighs, the look on his face is nothing short of depraved, blonde strands of hair sticking to his forehead and cheeks stained red with excitement. 

“can’t wait to see my girl become a mommy.”

PREVIOUS : THE COLOUR RED ft. yae miko NEXT : BLACKOUT ft. tartaglia

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© choslut 2024 — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission.

[chlopieno]

This friday sucks super bad so far.

[paarksunghoon]

can you write something with soft dom bestfriend!jake eating out inexperienced!shy!reader after he finds out she’s never done stuff like that before (with lots of praise plz) tyyy

I shied away from the suuuper innocent/shy trope but kept some elements in there

***

“No one’s ever eaten you out before?”

“Jake!”

He throws his hands up like he’s asking an innocent questions. “Hey, I’m not judging you for it! It’s just that…you’ve hooked you with a few people, haven’t you?” Jake watches you hug one of your plushies against your chest.

“Once.” Your cheeks feel warm and you resist the urge to hide your face behind the soft object. “I don’t do it often. You know that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with not hooking up. What happened?”

You can’t meet your best friend’s eye. “He just…finished too soon and didn’t do anything else.”

“That’s deplorable.”

“Tell me about it.”

“He didn’t want to taste you?”

You sigh and lie back down on your mattress, shutting your eyes while keeping the plushie between your arms and pinned against your chest. Jake looks at you and sees your feet planted on the bed as you keep your knees bent. The sleep shorts you’re wearing aren’t nothing new. He’s seen you wear it plenty of times but tonight, it feels a little bit different.

You, on the other hand, don’t feel Jake’s wandering eyes. You’re too mortified talking about this kind of stuff because your best friend is far more experienced with sex than you are. He’s athletic, attractive, and someone who jumped at the chance to sleep around once he started university. You wouldn’t consider yourself someone people naturally gravitate towards and despite knowing Jake since the beginning of middle school, sex is the one topic you struggle to talk about with him.

But Jake, the ever persistent best friend who just wants the best for you, won’t let it go. He rarely pries into your sex life and if you’re talking to anybody because he’s typically the one who’s preoccupied with hookups or casual flings.

It’s currently the peak of spring and it’s starting to get warmer outside. One of your windows is cracked open and amidst your inner turmoil, you hear the crickets chirping outside. You don’t see Jake’s eyes glance over your bare legs and how he gulps when his gaze reaches the shirt you’re wearing that’s riding up to show a small portion of your stomach.

“Not all of us have a lot of experience, okay?!”

“Hey! There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I didn’t say there was anything wrong with me.”

“No,” Jake says, pulling the plushy from your arms and throwing it beside him, “but I know you better than you know yourself. I know you compare how many people you’ve slept with to me.”

You evert his eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with sleeping around.” Your best friend laughs.

“I know. It doesn’t make me happy anymore but there’s nothing wrong with wanting to have sex, Y/N.”

You huff and pull yourself up on your elbows to look at Jake. His annoyingly boyish charms and freshly dyed, dark brown hair make him look like a supermodel underneath your ambient lighting. The room is dimly lit with hues of pink and yellow, and you don’t know if Jake’s looking extra delectable because of the light or because you’ve started to look at him differently.

“Easy for you to say. People want to have sex with you.”

Jake bites back a retort. “I bet people want to have sex with you too.” You roll your eyes.

“If I were a guy, I’ll bet I could stare at a girl and know I’d be getting some.” You hear him laugh but that does nothing to quell your embarrassment. Jake sits up and scoots closer until he’s looking down at you.

“What is it that you really want?”

“Jaeyun.”

“I dunno, maybe if you say it then you’ll manifest it, or some shit.” Jake doesn’t know why but he likes that you can’t make eye contact with him.

“I…”

You finally look at him. He tilts his head and nods once. “Go on.”

“I just…I want someone to make me feel good, okay?”

“That can’t be all you want. There’s gotta be something more.”

“I want a guy to eat me out. Happy?” It’s embarrassing to say out loud. Jake grins.

“Very. Now you’re manifesting this into reality.”

“You’re really weird, Jake.” He laughs.

“So you tell me.” He brings his finger up to your bare knee and traces a random pattern that makes you feel tingly. It’s a new feeling around your best friend and you look at him curiously.

“More guys should eat girls out,” he says, cutting the silence abruptly. “Guys say they’re good at fucking but they never get anyone off.”

You groan. “Everybody sucks. It seems like no guy likes to go down on a girl, or whatever.”

“Some do.”

“You mean to tell me there are some guys who actually like eating a girl out?”

“Yes.” Jake looks down at you and holds your eye. He doesn’t move and you watch as his fingers start to grip the comforter. You speak after a long pause. He doesn’t break eye contact.

“A-Are you saying you like to do that?”

He doesn’t let up the eye contact. “I love it. Could do it forever.”

You gulp. “R-Really?”

Jake nods. “Yeah.”

“What do you like about it?” Your voice, ever so timid and testing the waters, makes him excited.

He licks his lips. “I like the taste the most. Always so nice and wet. Sweet, almost. I like the way it feels too. Makes me think I’m about to die.”

“Isn’t that a bad thing?”

“No. I’d be happy if eating pussy was the last thing I did.”

The look he gives you is unlike anything you’ve ever seen from him before. His mouth twitches while he sits in front of you and you’re beside yourself when you rub your legs together. Jake doesn’t make a move to touch you but his steady gaze makes you squirm.

“Are you…offering?”

Jake chuckles. “Would it be bad if I was?” Not really.

“Honestly? Not really…”

“Let me take your shorts off, mkay?”

Jake hooks his fingers around your flimsy sleep shorts and pulls them down slowly as you feel the fabric glide against your inner thighs. The cool air provides an electric shock to your mound and you realize then just how wet you’ve become.

Your best friend opens up your legs to little resistance and finds you too cute when you bunch up your pillows to rest your back against it. He toys with you for a moment, using his thumb to gently brush over your slit while grunting at how wet your panties have become. Jake pulls them aside and is met by the place you need him the most.

“Do you want me to eat your pussy, baby?”

“Yes,” you moan, feeling his warm breath over your wet folds.

Jake doesn’t answer you. Instead, he pushes his head down and spreads his tongue all over you and moans at the first taste. You’re so warm and tense underneath his touch and his hands come to your thighs to keep them pried open but at the same time, Jake rubs his palm all over your skin to soothe your rigidness.

His hands support your legs too, forcing them open when you start to close in. It feels like he’s spreading you apart across the board and looking down at him makes your heart beat even faster. Jake looks so lost in his own pleasure while making you feel good too. His eyes are closed and his lashes kiss his cheeks in a way that makes him look heaven sent.

His tongue feels amazing and this sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. The wet slurping and constant pressure feels like you’re about to burst into a million pieces at any moment and you’re sure you’d become addicted to this if every guy made you feel the way your best friend does.

It should feel weird to have him touching you like this. You’ve only thought about him in the bedroom a handful of times before shaming away these feelings towards your best friend but looking down at him with his eyes closed and tongue pressed so deep inside of you makes your legs shake and toes curl.

You come without a warning and Jake encourages your loud string of moans when he licks you clean, lapping your wetness up like a dog drinking water. Jake’s face is so messy and so wet with your sheen and his spit before he wipes himself with the back of his hand.

He looks up at you before you can get a word out. “Let me do that again.”

[luvth0t]

RIDICULOUS ━ L.N

in which lando can longer cope with you laughing at the mere idea of being with him, and you realise it wouldn’t be that ridiculous. but it may be all too late.

warnings; nswf, smut, unprotected sex, friends to lovers, lando in the friend zone, implied that reader is a year or two older than lando, little bit of angst, choking, soft dom!lando, silly reader, overstimulation i guess, lotta praise, oral, fluff at the end if you squint

lando was infatuated the moment he met you.

it took a while to realise how strongly he felt, considering he met you at arguably the most chaotic time of his life.

his first year in f1, carlos his teammate; meaning you were around every race from the start, to this day.

he wanted his own photographer after a mere few interactions with you, but quickly realised he only cared about photos because you were the one occasionally taking them.

carlos signing for ferrari meant lando was losing two people; his teammate and you. his friend.

he’d jokingly asked you to jump ship, work for him instead. if only you knew how serious he was being.

you never looked at lando the way he looked at you. he was like a friends annoying little brother, one you couldn’t help but pity and adore.

he made you laugh, was fun to be around. a change from the personality’s you would come across in the paddock. it was no shock to you that carlos built a bond with him ━ as did you.

since joining ferarri you didn’t see the brit as much as you’d like, not that carlos’ new teammate was a let down. charles was lovely. you didn’t feel invasive taking shots of the pair of them.

but you still kept it touch. occasional group outings, dinners and celebrations. you weren’t oblivious to the way he always made time for you. but you were naive to the deeper meanings.

his flirtations were nothing of concern, to you it was a running joke. amongst many of you; you didn’t think lando actually wanted anything from you beyond platonic.

he could handle rejection. but being laughed at? he could only cope for so long.

“he begged me to invite you tonight,” carlos’ words were teasing, directed towards you yet his eyes rested on lando; out for dinner with a few other team members from mclaren carlos hadn’t caught up with in a while.

melbourne was one of your favourite races for this very reason, having to get here so early meant you had time to catch up with those in the paddock away from the craziness.

lando’s eyes lifted from the menu he was reading; scoffing immediately, already prepared to jump on the defence ━ not giving you a chance to speak.

“i was making sure you hadn’t forgotten anyone, y/n included.” lando corrected, flashing you a grin in the midst of his explanation, one you mirrored.

“i’d like to think my presence would be a given,” you huffed back at carlos; and lando felt a fool for allowing his heart to jump at the prospect of you also defending him.

“of course it is. just saying, lando was set on making sure you’d be here.” carlos smirked; eyes now on his own menu, pretending as if he wasn’t attempting to stir the pot.

“he misses you,” an engineer spoke up from besides lando, nudging the british driver who could only roll his eyes; not at all unfamiliar with being targeted with such banter. he copped it a lot worse when you were all on the same team.

“mhm, misses me. not carlos.” you grinned; practically bragged ━ nudging carlos this time; you’d grown a talent it seemed for redirecting the topic of conversation. trying too at least, and the way lando smirked made it clear he appreciated your efforts.

he’d nodded as well, confirming your words. in no way ashamed to admit he missed you more than the spaniard, while it didn’t seem like there was any truth to his words with the playful smile on his face; the assumption couldn’t be any closer to the truth.

“if you miss her so much you should go out for dinner just the pair of you,” carlos challenged quickly; earning an eye roll from yourself and a small giggle at the idea ━ oh the shit show that would be, you and lando out for dinner. you could read the headlines now.

lando caught the way you laughed, you however missed the way his eyes snapped to you in the moment. the way his smile faltered, merely from watching you completely dismiss and laugh at the idea of spending just a single dinner with him alone. what’s so funny about that? could it really be the most absurd idea? no matter how many times you reacted in such a way it always stung.

he recovered almost instantly however, like he always does.

“wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings, know you don’t like to be left out.” lando mused; earning another laugh from you ━ one that was music to his ears, hearing you laugh at his jokes was always enough to have him holding his chin a little higher.

“oh i’d be more than happy to see you finally get out of the friend zone.” carlos regretted his words the moment they left his mouth, catching the way lando’s smile fell and jaw tensed ━ quickly realising his teasing may have gone too far.

your lack of reaction killed lando more than carlos’ words did, the way you barely battered an eyelash ━ completely unbothered while he sat here trying to not pop a blood vessel. he wanted to defend the relationship or friendship you had, but there wasn’t much to defend.

because carlos was right, he was painfully stuck in the friend zone.

“how much longer till you realise these jokes got old two years ago?” you sounded awfully unbothered as your gaze remained on your menu, only looking up when another engineer spoke up.

“it’s just a joke?” he’d asked in full seriousness, eyes flickering between yourself and lando. he wasn’t on carlos’ side of the garage, always working on lando’s side. he barely interacted with you; only heard things through the grapevine.

“obviously.” you spoke as if it was…obvious, and the laugh you let out would’ve softened the blow of your words had lando not already heard this a thousand times.

“ah, ah, ah. don’t forget about silverstone.” carlos simply couldn’t keep his mouth shut; bringing up the night where everyone was convinced you and lando spent the night together.

which would be valid if you actually had, but you hadn’t. you went home together purely because you both were tired. he dropped you at your hotel room, didn’t even come inside. somehow no one believed either of you when you squashed their suspicions that ‘lando’s wish had finally come true.’

“don’t be ridiculous.” you scoffed, shaking your head ever so slightly. lando’s silence would’ve been deafening if others weren’t jumping in to speak, and maybe you would’ve noticed his lack of input if you spared him a glance.

he was managing to muster a fake smile, it was almost painful. any amusement he was clinging too had vanished, wanting the conversation to be over with.

“it’s not ridiculous.” carlos huffed; and lando almost wanted to nod in agreement. thank him even. because it wasn’t ridiculous, he didn’t think so at least. it made sense to him. you made so much sense to him.

“it is.” the nail in the coffin, lando couldn’t keep smiling anymore. you sounded oh so certain, all the while the smile hadn’t left your face. “come on now,” you added in exaggeration at carlos’ unconvinced face.

lando wasn’t sure what you said next, he didn’t want to hear it. he couldn’t figure out why hearing all of this was suddenly unbearable, but before he knew it he was not so subtlety excusing himself ━ something about getting another drink, before standing up and bee lining to the bar.

the abrupt departure didn’t halt anyone else’s movements, conversations continuing and carlos joining in a debate with his cousin and his old mclaren press officer; while your attention got stuck on lando’s full glass ahead of you.

he didn’t need another drink.

you watched as he weaved through the crowds, the way he failed to smile at anyone he passed by; the tension clear in his jaw; it almost appeared as if he was scowling.

it was funny, because your first thought was if you offended him. but you couldn’t figure out what possibly could have; it was laughable how unaware you were of his feelings.

“i’ll be back,” you excused yourself, standing up and following in lando’s directions without any hesitance; a slight frown on your face as you dodged people left and right to get to the bar.

you weren’t sure why the prospect of upsetting him upset you so much, but the sudden urgency to check on him was too powerful to ignore.

“rude to not offer a girl a drink you know?”

lando’s eyes only shifted towards you for a mere couple of seconds when you made your presence known. he could count on one hand the amount of times he wished to be alone when you were near, but this was one of them.

he was drained, unable to fake any more smiles or shrug off any more comments. blame it on the jet lag.

“apologises,” he hummed; not offering you another glance which had your suspicions confirmed, your furrowed brow showing concern not that he could see. his blue eyes were focused ahead on the busy bartender.

“you good?” you internally cringed as the words left your lips, unable to figure out a way to address the sudden mood without sounding overbearing or overstepping.

you watched as his shoulders tensed; as his eyes strategically continued to avoid you, only making the pit in your stomach feel deeper, as if it could swallow you whole.

“peachy.” his sarcasm was clear, and while it would usually be a relief it wasn’t laced with the usual humour. it was blunt, dismissive ━ and if you had any doubts left about being the reason for him running off, they were now squashed.

“did i say something━ did carlos say something?” the questions stumbled out of your lips in concern, biting down on the inside of your cheek. “i’ve tried to tell him to lay off with the jokes, it’s stupid i know.” you began to ramble.

lando finally let his gaze land on you, and the sight of your sympathetic eyes and worried frown had him feeling guilty. which was ridiculous, but suddenly he felt an urge to reassure you he was fine. that you hadn’t said anything.

but you had.

“it’s not the jokes,” lando cut you off; hands running over his head, even letting out a laugh at how pathetic he sounded. he was going to continue, explain it further; but he stopped himself.

he couldn’t. it was a can of worms that must remain shut.

you stood in silence for a moment, under the impression he’d keep speaking. but he didn’t. leaving you with no explanation; just further confusion.

“no?” you hummed; eyebrows raising. “because i totally get if it is. it’s ridiculous how they keep going on━” you were rambling again, trying to make the situation better. attempting to ensure he felt heard, that he could speak to you about what was bothering him.

so oblivious to the fact you were just digging yourself a deeper hole.

there was that word again; ridiculous.

“is it? is it really that ridiculous?” lando couldn’t stop the question from flying out of his mouth; only now turning to properly face you; in time to catch the dumbfounded look on your face from his question.

it took a few moments to try understand what he meant, coming up short as you stared at him clueless, lips parting to try come up with something to say but falling short.

“is what?” you mumbled, suddenly all confidence was gone. almost scared to hear the answer; purely because you recognised the doubt and regret illustrating his face.

but lando had nothing else to lose, you’ve rejected him in front of everyone else without realising. what’s once more?

“us. dinner us two, having gone home together in silverstone. this?” lando sighed out like it was obvious, hands waving between the pair of you.

because to him it was so obvious. the amount of times he’s almost asked you to join him for a meal, just the pair of you.

maybe if he had you’d see what he saw.

silverstone meant so much to him, having expected nothing from you but he thought about the taxi ride back to the hotel more than he’d like to admit. he could’ve sworn you’d been flirting with him that night.

he even thought it would’ve been the start of something.

optimism was a curse however, because stupidly lando thought perhaps after finally expressing his feelings that maybe you’d reveal your hidden reciprocation. that maybe you were scared like him.

but instead all he could see was shock. and confusion. and fuck, was that sympathy?

“what?” it was a weak response, but all you could muster. you were attempting to find any other explanation for his words, to figure out what he could be implying.

lando had to laugh, shaking his head as he faced the bar again; hands running over his face as you quickly realised he was being fully serious.

“it’s not━ we’ve never━ i mean it would be weird.” word vomit, you didn’t know what you were saying; usually so careful with your words you knew the moment lando looked at you in shock and offence you’d be haunted by that very sentence. “not weird━ but,” you attempted to fix your mistake, eyes screwing shut.

another laugh from him beat you to it however.

“ridiculous. i got it,” lando spoke through a breath, sounding incredibly defeated which had your stomach dropping.

you struggled to find words to assure him, still attempting to process what he’d just told you. you hadn’t ever looked at him in that way. he was always just… lando.

“lando…” you trailed off with a frown, only now starting to realise the position you both were now in.

the awkward tension was growing quickly and you’d never despised something so quickly. you refused to let this be the bitter end to your friendship.

“it’s fine. just drop it.” lando huffed, standing up straight; eyes finding yours once more. he didn’t want you to feel bad, he’d accepted long ago that his chances of you feeling the same were slim.

you can’t apologise for how you feel.

“no we should talk about it,” you disagreed, so much concern and care in your eyes it almost made him sick. he didn’t need that from you. and the last thing he wanted to do was talk about how he’d spent years pining over you.

he’d kept it secret for a reason, to avoid this.

“i’ll pass,” lando hummed; the half smile he mustered up did little to comfort you as he licked his bottom lip and glanced around the room. “i’m gonna head up,” he cleared his throat.

you’d gone to express your dismay with such thing, but he was walking off before you could get another word out; left alone at the bar dumbfounded and suddenly in need of a drink.

it would be quite sad to admit that one revelation could change your whole weekend. but it did.

you’ve never had trouble sleeping, in fact the jet lag usually knocked you out. yet you’d spent the best of your time in melbourne thinking through every word lando said. looking back on every damn interaction the two of you shared.

you felt like an idiot. because suddenly it made a lot of sense, what you failed to realise in the moment fell together piece by piece.

an insight into his intentions for the effort he’d put into the friendship over the last couple years was eye opening, and while you were unsure as to how you hadn’t assumed such thing sooner, you found yourself asking the question how it made you feel.

you’d be lying if you didn’t have a few moments of giddiness as you recounted certain times. how he drove you home from pre-season testing one time because you didn’t feel well. how he always got you flowers for your birthday.

suddenly your mind was consumed with the thought of lando every waking second. from the moment you entered the paddock on thursday you were looking for him. which didn’t make sense considering you had plans to avoid him.

you didn’t want to make things worse than they were. but for some reason he was the only thing on your mind, to the point it was becoming an issue as you tried to go about your work.

not once in your career had you been pulled up on anything, so when carlos questioned if you were okay friday afternoon ━ claiming you had been slacking, you knew you were fucked.

there’s no way you felt the same. surely not.

you had to stand by what you said. it’d be weird?

he was lando. annoying lando who couldn’t grow a speck of facial hair and flinched at the sight of fish.

except saturday, when you finally laid eyes on the driver again, it was cruel slap in the face of reality when you realised that was almost 5 years ago. you’d both changed. lando had changed.

you almost spiralled when you found yourself admiring the driver. had his mclaren top always been so tight around his biceps? had his skin always been so sun kissed? not to mention the way his curls sat atop his head.

you suddenly felt insane. you’d never looked at him in that light, never thought what if. but his confession had you a mess of thoughts, one’s you had to run away from. causing you to spend the rest of the weekend hidden away in ferrari’s hospitality.

you could only hide for so long, carlos had won ━ which was enough to get your mind off of the british driver for a whole 4 minutes until they were up on the podium together.

work was your priority however, but you couldn’t help but notice just how nicely lando photographs. you only ever focused on carlos, considering he paid your wage. but as you took shots and shots of the pair interacting before and after the podium from afar you couldn’t help but note how lando was practically glowing.

your head was a mess, and as you now stood in a random club in melbourne, you had no idea what your next move was.

you couldn’t exactly deny going out to celebrate when carlos had won. so your next wish was that lando simply wouldn’t be in attendance.

but he was, and your eyes hadn’t left him all night.

still having not spoken for days, you couldn’t shake the urge to congratulate him. yet for some reason you were scared, you didn’t trust yourself. fearing you’d say something you’d regret. which was a foreign feeling. lando was usually the easiest person for you to talk too.

however you could only stand in the corner with a drink as your only company for so long. a sudden wave of confidence washing over you, or more so desperation to stop being so childish, causing you to down your drink before setting off towards the british driver.

it was when you were only a few metres from him that you realised you should probably have a game plan, and if he hadn’t locked eyes with you there was a high chance you would’ve backed out. turned around and walked away.

instead you were left to improvise.

“good job today,” you smiled widely when you got into ear shot; unable to shake the tightness in your chest, feeling suddenly out of breath as if you had sprinted over here.

lando appeared much more relaxed than he had last time you spoke. which made sense. he’d put it on the podium, why wouldn’t he be in a good mood?

“thank you,” the driver grinned, unable to be stumped when he was still running high off adrenaline. plus, he figured you would pretend the other evening never happened. which he would happily take.

your script ended there however. you had no idea what to say. or where to look, since when was eye contact with lando hard?

“impressive from carlos,” lando managed to fill the silence, and you could feel the relief at the fact he’d saved you from creating an awkward silence.

“yeah, yeah i know. very proud of him. i’ll never complain about pain again.” you spoke through a dry laugh; one he mirrored, your lips pursing as you attempted to think of something, anything, to fix the mess you found you guys in.

to apologise for your rudeness? to explain your mindset? to just talk. you needed to talk to him, for your own sanity.

“look i just wanted━” you finally built the courage up to speak, but were interrupted as a blonde woman slid next to lando’s side, handing him a drink while doing so.

it shouldn’t have shut you up so quickly, but it did ━ eyebrows raising as you attempted to figure out how to respond to the image in front of you. one you’d never seen before actually.

“line was long,” the girl hummed in explanation, and you only just caught lando’s sorry eyes as his attention turned to the girl next to him.

he would be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate the lifeline that was the blonde he’d just met 20 minutes ago. he did not need to hear your reasonings as to why you should just remain friends, not tonight.

“i’ll um, i’ll talk to you later.” there was no way you’d try get your words out again, not when you barely spoke up the first time. yet for some reason, you’d hoped lando had insisted you could speak now.

instead left to watch as he nodded and offered you a small smile; practically sending you off on your way.

embarrassment was the one word to describe how you felt as you made your way to the nearest booth, attempting to hide away and let the darkness swallow you whole.

apart of you felt you should be grateful, maybe being interrupted was a saving grace. god knows what you were about to say, you definitely didn’t. but right now you found yourself in the same position as you were 5 minutes ago.

it felt selfish. lando had practically admitted to having feelings for you, that’s what you gathered at least, and you’d been unaware for years.

you’d been slightly uncertain in your feelings for five days and you felt as if you were losing your mind. you had no right for an explanation really, but you needed something. attempting to decipher everything to do with the main man of mclaren was giving you a headache.

although your vision became a bit clearer as you sat and watched him interact with the girl who’d placed the drink in his hands.

it suddenly made sense why you hadn’t seen him like this before. his attention was always on you, his efforts and time focused towards you if you were in arms reach.

which you couldn’t help but feel grateful for as you sat and watched your new personal hell.

you didn’t want to label it as jealousy. because that would be ridiculous, but it was beginning to be hard to watch the way lando whispered in her ear and grinned widely as he earned a laugh or two from the girl.

were you mad at the sight or mad at your own reaction? you weren’t sure. it felt wrong, to feel so strongly when only a few days ago you’d laughed in his face about the prospect of being with him.

what was it they said about you only want what you can’t have?

“it should be illegal for you to be sitting here moping after i’ve won.” carlos’ voice snapped you from your thoughts, being met with the driver who slid into the booth opposite you, a sheepish smile forming on your features.

“i’m not moping.” you huffed, leaning back in your seat ━ attempting to look and feel relaxed, allow your tense shoulders to loosen, glancing back to lando once more before your attention was on the driver ahead of you.

“you have been all week.” carlos disagreed, eyebrow raising as you frowned; not having a reply because he was right. and suddenly you felt horrible.

“i’m sorry━ that’s the last thing you need with the couple weeks you’ve had,” you sighed, head falling into your hands. it was as if you suddenly couldn’t do anything right.

you missed the way carlos smiled, having looked at the direct reason of your problems moments prior.

“don’t apologise.” carlos dismissed, assuring you it was fine; and when you peaked up through your hands, the smile he was flashing you was enough to put your mind at ease. “i’m assuming lando said something.”

there it was. lando. again. back in your head. as if you ever got him out.

you only sighed, head falling back this time as you now stared at the ceiling. of course carlos knew.

“you knew?” you huffed out, it clear you already knew the answer.

“everyone does.” carlos chuckled, and you wish you too could take amusement from the situation. how comforting, this whole time you’ve either appeared as an idiot or the biggest bitch.

“why wouldn’t you tell me?” you practically whined, looking back at the driver once more; watching as he put his hands up in defence and innocence.

“i thought you knew.” carlos claimed, sounding so honest you couldn’t question him ━ nor blame him. you shouldn’t have needed someone to spell it out for you. plus, you’re not sure what you would’ve done if you did know.

because it wasn’t like you were handling the current situation very well.

you had no answer, just left him to watch as you sat wallowing in self pity. you should’ve never chased him to the bar.

“he’ll be fine. look at him, moving on already,” carlos attempt to comfort you was more like a punch to the stomach ━ because you had to stop yourself from glaring at him. had to stop yourself from spitting out how that wasn’t what you wanted.

you didn’t want that at all, and that thought was suffocating. you were in no place to come to terms with your feelings, but right now they seemed to be demanding to make themselves known.

“i need air.” you huffed as you stood up, thankful that you had taken notice of the smokers exit not too far from you.

the crisp air felt like a soothing blanket, hitting your skin the moment you got outside. the balcony was empty and finally you felt as if you could breathe; allowing your arms to rest against the railing as the music became muffled and the sound of melbourne’s night life filled your ears.

it felt stupid, staring across the city skyline as if it would answer your questions. maybe the stars could align and write out a solution for you, tell you what to do.

but with every passing second you didn’t find any clarity or idea on what to do, how to feel. you shouldn’t want him. you haven’t wanted him before. it isn’t fair to suddenly feel so drawn to him after unknowingly rejecting him for so long.

but it was the reality. you’d been exposed to the idea of lando wanting you; and with every passing moment it became clear to you it wasn’t weird. it sounded fucking incredible.

the music suddenly filled your ears again, moments later becoming muffled as you became aware someone had joined you outside. it wasn’t till they spoke that you tensed up.

“it’s cold out here,” his voice was instantly recognisable, you didn’t need to look at him to know it was him.

“too hot in there.” you hummed simply in reply, feeling his presence next to you as he joined you in observing the city skyline; although you could feel his eyes burning into the side of your head.

falling into a comfortable silence was the last thing you expected, both too scared to speak up and face the inevitable. if you could stay like this forever you would. it was the first few moments of peace you’d known all week.

“we can pretend the other night never happened. i don’t want things to be weird.” lando spoke, words so soft as if you’d break. as if he needed to be careful with you.

his whole demeanour had you frowning, turning to face him. he shouldn’t be fixing this mess, nor prioritising your feelings over his. not when both of you had neglected his for so long.

you parted your lips to disagree, to tell him that was the last thing you wanted. you wanted to talk about it. it’s all you needed to do.

but quickly you realised that was contradicting your initial thoughts.

“if that’s what you want,” you spoke through a breath; unable to understand how you still couldn’t find the right thing to say when this very conversation has been the only thing on your mind all week.

it was lando’s turn to stay quiet, you watched as he thought through what to say; practically seeing his mind tick.

“i just want to know why it’s so ridiculous to you.” lando practically blurted the question out, as if he was almost afraid he wouldn’t say it ever if he didn’t now. it’d been weighing on his mind, it killed him that he had no explanation as to why you were so against the idea of him in anyway that branched further than platonic.

and while you wanted to give him an answer, you didn’t have one.

“i don’t know.” you answered truthfully. “i never looked at you that way lando i…” you trailed off, eyes getting lost in his when you realised just how close he was. your admiration these past couple days from afar was one thing; but up close was a whole new ball park. “you were like this little kid, i don’t know,” you struggled to articulate your thoughts.

“yeah five years ago,” lando’s response was quick and blunt; even with the chuckle that escaped under his breath, it didn’t lessen the intensity in his eyes that were now pouring into yours. it was as if he’d been wanting to say such thing for years. he was challenging you.

you’d gulped at his words, because he was right and you’d only come to terms with such thing these past few days.

“yeah.” you mumbled in agreement, suddenly feeling small under his gaze; it was all so new. you’d been in this position with lando countless of times, why did you suddenly feel as if every nerve inside of you was being set alight? why did you feel as if you couldn’t dare look away from his eyes.

you could spot the moment lando realised the change in your behaviour, the way his eyes flickered across your face; his lips parting ever so slightly as he took a breath.

he recognised the look on your face, purely because it’s how he would always look at you.

“it fucking sucked you know? having to sit there while you laugh at the idea of spending the night with me. even just going on a date with me.” lando hummed, voice barely above the whisper because with the minimal distance he didn’t need to speak any louder. although if he spoke any quieter you’d be worried you wouldn’t hear him over the sound of your rapid heartbeat.

you didn’t know what to say, head tilting aside ever so slightly as you watched him take a step closer; dangerously close now yet for some reason you found yourself leaning further towards his frame ━ and the moment you let your eyes flicker to his lips you knew you were done for.

“m’ sorry,” you mumbled; eyes pouring into his once more as if that would ensure he knew you meant it, but he didn’t want nor need an apology. but god would he love an opportunity to change your mind.

it was as if you could act without thinking again the moment his hand cupped your cheek, lips pressed onto yours in a rush that had your hand moving to find a grip in his shirt.

you didn’t know how to describe it, but suddenly everything made sense as your lips moved together in perfect sync.

the moment almost came crumbling down however when lando pulled away only a few moments later, heavy breaths as his hand remained on your cheek; eyes looking down at you as if you were gods greatest gift to earth.

but as much as this felt like heaven, lando knew he couldn’t risk this just being a one time thing. he refused to get a taste of you just to be starved again.

“if you don’t━” lando barely got his words out, you had him read; could see the doubt beginning to creep in. as much as he hated being vulnerable it was almost self perseveration.

thankfully however you didn’t give him much time to worry, shaking your head before tugging him closer to you ━ reconnecting your lips with such certainty lando had no room to fear or doubt you.

it was all he needed, the lid was off and he finally could act on his wants ━ hands moving to grip your waist as he trapped you between himself and the railing, lips moving against yours without a care in the world that anyone could walk out and see.

it was as if the kiss was the answer to all your questions, suddenly it all made sense. lando made sense; you felt stupid, how had you denied yourself of such thing for so long?

your hands were tangled in his hair, his were clutching your sides for dear life ━ large hands pawing at your waist then your hips, having to stop himself from getting too greedy and travelling any further.

so caught up in him you quickly realised you needed to breathe, pulling away momentarily; yet you had no time to recover as lando only busied himself with peppering kisses on your jaw.

naturally you tilted your head back, a sigh of content escaping you as you invited him to explore more of you. and lando was not going to ignore such thing, soft kisses now pressed to the skin of your neck.

suddenly you were incredibly aware of the closeness, the way his body was pressed against yours; the cold railing behind you doing little to cool your hot skin; his knee pressing between your thighs having your eyes fluttering shut.

heaven was the only way to describe it.

but really you were on the smokers balcony of a crowded melbourne club, a reality that hit the pair of you as the door swung open and laughter and chatter was suddenly heard.

your eyes flickered to the group who appeared, lando regrettably lifting his head and glancing over his shoulder. the group was unbothered by your presence, you weren’t sure the pair of you were even noticed.

lando’s grip had tightened on your waist ever so slightly, as if you could slip away from him like the moment had.

“we should get out of here,” you spoke through heavy breaths as your eyes met his, watching as his lit up with both relief and eagerness. he only nodded, taking a step backwards as his hands ran over his now crinkled shirt.

the pair of you may had gotten yourselves together in those few seconds, but as you worked your way through the crowded club towards the exit, it was quite clear what had occurred.

the elevator ride only caused swollen lips and messy hair, and you struggled to keep your hands off of him once in the back of a taxi ━ kissing him was addictive, that’s the only thing you could think of right now.

the silence wasn’t awkward as you stumbled into his hotel room; only the sounds of quiet laughter as he struggled to find his room key. small curses escaping his mouth as he failed to move in the urgency he was currently feeling.

it was messy the way you both discarded your shoes and belongings, a few words and mumbles exchanged before he was tugging you into his chest again ━ lips once more reconnected.

the space allowed you to wrap your arms around his neck this time, body practically melting into his hold. you wanted to apologise again, explain your thoughts over the last few days, how your change of heart had occurred.

you weren’t even sure it was a change of heart; more so just now thinking about new possibilities.

but lando seemed to be the thing that could put those thoughts at bay, finally your mind was silent ━ all senses consumed with the man in front of you.

you weren’t sure which wall he’d backed you against but you didn’t care; welcoming the familiar feeling of his lips on your neck once more ━ taking the few seconds of your brain not being foggy to tug on the end of his shirt before trying to push it up his body.

he got the memo, ridding himself of his shirt and you could feel your breath get caught in your throat at the sight of his toned torso.

“what do you want?” lando’s question was matched with an intensity that almost had you squirming, his knee pushing between your thighs once more as you peered up at him.

you were suddenly lost for words, unsure how to vocalise what you wanted.

him. just him. anything he had to offer.

the feeling of his finger running up the side of your leg gave you plenty of ideas; but you were too flustered to articulate such thing.

the sight of you dumbfounded had him letting out a breathy chuckle, eyebrows raising in expectance ━ yet somehow it just had you squeezing your legs together.

“anything.” you mumbled, cheeks a tint of pink as he only smirked at your answer; you hadn’t realised how desperate you sounded. you weren’t sure you’ve ever sounded so needy.

“gotta be more specific pretty,” his grin told you he was revelling in your flustered state. how could he not? his mind was running wild with plans to have you a needy mess all for him.

the term of endearment was new, a boundary that had never been crossed in your friendship; yet it sounded so natural. what wasn’t natural was the way your heart seemed to flutter at the compliment.

“want me to touch you?” lando was almost mocking you as his hand moved to push your hair back out of your face, cupping the side of your head while doing so to ensure your eyes stayed trained on him ━ and the mere act had you falling further into submission.

it was pathetic, you were somehow able to identify such thing ━ standing here with parted lips and wide eyes, having nodded at his words almost too eagerly. you needed to control yourself, at least for now; he’d barely touched you yet.

“what do you want?” your words were no where near as confident as his, but you weren’t complaining; the confidence suited him, it only had you wanting him more.

you watched as his shoulders lifted in a slight shrug, attempting to keep your mind off his finger that was dangerously close to the hem of your skirt.

“want to ruin you so you’ll only ever think of me if another man touches you.” lando was honest with his answer, you hadn’t expected such words to escape his mouth. such bluntness, what sounded like a promise had your knees feeling weak ━ the idea sounding perfect to you.

but he wasn’t finished.

“want you to cum on my fingers.” he added quietly, your legs spreading ever so slightly as his hand finally ventured under your skirt. “then my tongue,” he practically chimed; head ducking down to your neck now, his hot breath fanning your skin.

thinking was only getting harder, his words were turning your mind into a puddle, much like the state of your undergarments.

“then my cock.” he concluded before paying extra attention to the skin on your neck, kissing intently as you let out a shaky breath.

attempting to process such words from him was difficult, but you were quick to figure out it sounded incredible to you.

“hm?” his hum was a taunt, head lifting to look at you once more, watching as you nodded quickly.

“please,” you practically whimpered, god you’d get on your knees and beg. lando almost groaned from the word leaving your lips alone, the way you were looking up at him with doe eyes had a grin forming on his face, one you mirrored for a brief moment.

the man couldn’t believe his eyes, a sight he’d dream of too many times was in front of him in the flesh and he wanted nothing more but to make sure you too would never forget these moments.

his lips returning to yours almost had you failing to notice the way his hand slipped under your skirt, finding your soaked panties with ease. he groaned into your mouth as he realised how wet you were, your only reply a slight tug on his curls.

light and teasing touches were only tolerable for so long, you could deal with his fingers dancing around your clothed folds while his lips stayed on yours ━ but when he pulled away your breaths became irregular, clinging to every ounce of patience you had.

you were about to whine when his hand pushed your panties to the side, slipping a digit inside of you without warning was enough to have you choking out a moan ━ hand flying to grip his bicep to ensure your legs wouldn’t give out on you.

lando was watching you as if you were gods gift to the earth, thumb settling on your clit naturally that within seconds of him getting to work your eyes were fluttering shut ━ head falling back against the wall.

“you’re soaked baby,” his words were barely audible; too in awe of you, but you still managed to catch them as you nodded ever so slightly.

“for you,” you breathed out ━ not that it needed clarifying, but the reassurance had the driver smirking proudly, even rewarding you as suddenly a second finger slipped inside of you.

for him. lando would never had thought that would ever be possible. if he wasn’t so focused on getting you off he’d be replaying those words in his mind again, and again.

suddenly it was becoming hard to keep quiet, strings of moans and whimpers escaping you in succession, causing lando’s pants to feel incredibly tight. but that was the last thing on his mind, holding you against the wall with the only goal of having you come undone in his grasp.

his name sounded heavenly as you moaned it, so much so lando thought no one else should ever speak it again ━ nothing would compare to that.

“look at me.” lando’s demand was so calm you almost missed it, eyes still fluttered shut as your thighs squeezed around his hand. despite hearing him you couldn’t act, control of your body slipping away ever so quickly with the way his thumb was circling your sensitive bud.

lando’s breathy laugh wasn’t enough to capture your attention either, his touch was all your mind could focus on. so it was when his free large hand trailed up your body to wrap around your neck that your eyes fluttered open.

his eyes were inquisitive, clearly attempting to gage a reaction to the action which had your lips parting despite having no pressure applied. however it was the way you clenched around his fingers that told him enough.

the slight squeeze of your neck was enough to draw a moan out of you, and lando could only hum in content. you were fucking perfect.

it was quickly becoming overwhelming, pleasure suddenly building so quickly ━ eyes pouring into his as you struggled to form words.

“close,” was all you managed out; lando’s nod was in sync with his curled fingers ━ your nails digging into his skin as he brushed the spot that had your legs almost giving out.

you were holding onto him for dear life, moans growing louder and whinier as your vision started to become starry despite having your eyes open.

“let go baby,” his words were enough to push you over the edge, releasing onto his fingers as you practically panted his name like it was a prayer.

lando had concluded a long time ago that he couldn’t fall for you more than he already had; but as he watched you come undone, he realised he’d been wrong. your beauty truly knew no ends ━ and he was only now more eager to watch your face contort in pleasure again and again.

admiration filled your own eyes as they opened once more to peer up at him, flushed cheeks and a sheepish smile spreading on your face as you attempted to catch your breath.

“you’re incredible,” lando couldn’t stop the praise from escaping him, and watching the way your smile grew had him feeling no regret either; no shame like he usually would when a compliment perhaps too sentimental slipped passed his guard.

however this time it was reciprocated, you could see the meaning behind it ━ not dismissing it as a friendly comment, instead it had your already flushed cheeks reddening further.

“you are.” you spoke like it was obvious, even letting out a small giggle ━ sounding somewhat out of breath but such thing was granted. your arms moved to wrap around his neck again, both to ensure he stayed close and because your only strength was in your arms.

your legs already felt like jelly.

he’d read the situation with ease, because suddenly his hands were hooked under your thighs ━ halting you up as your legs instinctively wrapped around his torso.

your skirt was bunched at your hips, ruined panties almost shameful. your hands spread out against his toned back, unable to help yourself from feeling as much of his flexed muscles as possible.

messy kisses were exchanged as he moved you through the hotel room, lips lazily moving against each other before your back was hitting his plush mattress.

the sight above you rendered you speechless, no shame in your eyes raking over his frame as he stood at the foot of the bed ━ you quickly felt overdressed.

your own hands found the hem of your shirt, peeling it off your body, no bra meaning your upper body was exposed to the brit.

you could visibly see him gulp, his eyes dancing over your half naked frame as he took a few deep breaths; tongue flicking over his bottom lip. the man even shook his head in disbelief, unable to help himself when you invitingly leant back on your elbows.

he was on top of you within moments, situating between your spread legs as his head found the exposed skin of your chest, open mouth kisses pressed to your neck, slowly making their way to your breasts.

“you’re fucking beautiful.” he’d practically grumbled, your fingers finding his curls once more you could only whimper as his teeth tugged on your skin momentarily.

“want to make you feel good,” you whispered, unable to ignore his hard on pressing into your hip ━ the feeling had you squirming, keen to feel more of him.

he’d shushed you however, not being derailed as his kisses moved to your stomach now, your head hitting the pillow as you tried to control your breathing ━ left to stare up at the ceiling momentarily.

“i feel amazing,” lando spoke matter of factly, his hands spreading over your thighs as he parted them to his liking ━ your eyes flickering down, not expecting to meet his blue ones.

he looked like he was ready to devour you, it made your core practically ache ━ offered no relief as your legs could only squeeze against his hold.

he was quick in removing your skirt, and your panties ━ having you bare for him before he was hooking your legs over his shoulders. but his urgency seemed to still there, kisses pressed to your inner thighs instead of your glistening cunt.

“lando,” you’d whined, using all your strength to ensure you could keep your eyes on him, a pretty sight that was rendering you impatient. “please,” the plea left you in desperation.

you could still feel his breath on your thighs, not where you needed him, and when you heard him chuckle lowly your eyes had to press shut to keep your composure.

“oh baby,” he dragged out; cooing so sweetly your eyes narrowed when they met his again. “needy little thing,” he commented; quirking an eyebrow your way and you couldn’t argue, only pout.

he wasn’t wrong, much to your surprise. you’d never found yourself in such position, needing and craving someone so badly. depending on someone else for pleasure was practically foreign.

“not gonna make you beg,” lando ended your torture, if you could even call it that, mouth connecting with your cunt and your jaw dropped as his tongue quickly found your clit.

you were already sensitive, back arching immediately as you moaned out softly ━ hands flying to find his curls again.

pure ecstasy was the only way to describe the feeling, his tongue working so perfectly that you were fighting to not press your thighs against his head ━ body moving with every action, his hand moving to press down on your hips and keep you in place.

your eyes caught his own for a mere few moments, seeing him look up at you however had your own eyes rolling back; too sensitive to stay cool with the onslaught of pleasure.

he was everywhere, consuming every one of your senses ━ tugging on his curls your only outlet as you moaned and shook.

you weren’t ever sure you’d be able to cum from head alone, but you were about to find out ━ pathetically close already, stomach tightening having barely recovered from your first orgasm.

you forced yourself to gaze down at him again, wanting to see his head between your thighs ━ watch the way his arms flexed as he held you in place with ease.

his tongue was flicking between your folds, then paying attention to your clit; never missing a beat, it flood over you suddenly.

you could no longer hear the sounds you were making as you came again, back arching off the bed once more ━ seeing stars, lando sure to catch the sight as you came undone for him again.

it was a blur the next few moments, not present as lando shifted your legs off of his shoulders and back onto his knees, but once you realised the sight in front of you it didn’t take long for you to push yourself up the bed so you were sitting up.

“you good?” lando’s voice was soft now, ensuring you were okay; not oblivious to your tired body. you nodded however, a lazy smile spreading on your lips in reassurance, hooded eyes taking him all in. you just wanted to feel all of him.

“perfect,” you breathed, leaning forward to connect your lips without another word. it was greedy, a few moments of no contact and you were drawn to him again. you just wanted more and more, and the way lando’s hands flied to your waist showed it was truly reciprocated.

you pushed him slightly to sit down, switching positions so he was resting against the headboard now ━ it didn’t take much force, he was letting you guide him, hands delicately roaming your fatigued frame.

climbing into his lap your hands made quick work of his pants, unzipping them and moving all material out of the way to finally free his hardened cock.

lando moaned into your mouth the moment your hand wrapped around his length, pumping a few times was the relief he’d been ignoring since you entered the hotel room.

he struggled to kiss back for a mere moment, causing your eyes to flutter open, lips curving upwards at the sight of his face contorted in pleasure.

fuck you could get used to that image.

“come on baby,” lando rasped out as his hands found a home on your hips ━ guiding them upwards ever so slightly. “fuck yourself on my cock yeah?” there was a slight smugness in his tone; the type that had you falling into submission once more, despite him vocalising your plans.

your arms moved to hold onto his shoulders, enough to help steady you as you guided your hips on top of his, lowering yourself down onto his cock.

the pair of you gasped in sync, your forehead resting against his as you took him all in at once, jaw going slack from the stretch.

you stilled, needing time to adjust to his size ━ and lando had no complaints, the feeling of you wrapped around him having him content.

“you feel fucking incredible,” the driver rasped, lips brushing against yours as he spoke; and you could only whimper at first, a few deep breaths escaping you.

“so big,” you mumbled; having to swallow intently before mustering the energy to begin moving ━ eyes pouring into his as you began to ride him.

the closeness and intimacy would usually scare you; heck, it would normally terrify him. yet somehow it felt right, as if this wasn’t the first time between the pair of you.

your nails dug into his skin once more as you shifted up and down, lando’s hands only on your skin to ensure he had a hold on you ━ letting you set the pace as he watched, jaw tense and eyes adoring.

“fuck lando,” you whined when he’d bottom out once more, hitting a spot so deep inside of you that your toes were curling ━ the sound of his own grunts and moans only adding to the pleasure.

“doing so good for me gorgeous,” his praise only encouraged you, words so delicate. you sped up as much as you could, not too fast but with more urgency than before; as much as your sore body would allow.

it wasn’t long before you started to tire, your moans grew whinier but you didn’t need to say anything ━ a choked moan escaping your throat when his hips suddenly thrusted up to meet your movements.

you hadn’t thought you could feel more full but you were wrong, and lando didn’t relent as he started fucking up into you.

you were like a doll in his hands, as he started to practically move you up and down his cock; his own hips continuing to thrust up you couldn’t keep up, eyes screwing shut as your mouth fell agape.

“fuck lando fuck,” you were practically chanting; a string of curses and his name; it all felt too good. fucking perfect, you couldn’t comprehend any of it.

“take it baby.” he grunted, and you nodded so quickly as if you’d ever disappoint him, fingers reaching to his back and nails dragging across the skin ━ his thrusts harsh, not slow but not too quick that you wouldn’t have time to feel every inch of him.

your head was thrown back, exposing your bare chest further to him ━ which lando made the most of for the time being, lips ducking down and attaching to one of your nipples for a few moments.

but as your sounds got louder he needed to be able to see your face clearly, hand moving up your back and tangling in your hair to force you to look at him.

“open your eyes princess,” he practically demanded, and at this point you’d do anything he said without question; eyes fluttering open to look at him.

his stamina was impressive, not surprising, still bouncing you on his cock as if it was nothing ━ but the way his breaths got shaky and his hooded eyes revealed he was feeling the pleasure like you were.

“who’s making you feel this good?” lando’s question escaped him without much thought; he just needed to hear you say it. wanted to revel in the fact he had you in such a state. your praise and reassurance held such a high value to him.

“you, lando, you,” you whined out in response ━ and you felt his hand move back to your hip, needing to use your own strength now to keep your head upright. “feels so good,” you told him ━ squeezing him as you did so.

he’d groaned at the feeling, almost having cum on the spot; thankfully he didn’t, because he needed to see you fall apart one more time.

“want to cum again yeah? that you want?” his mouth seemed to know no ends, the taunting only making your stomach grow tighter as you nodded to the best of your ability.

his breaths were heavy now, hands travelling to your ass as he used that as his grip of your body instead.

“wanna hear you say it,” lando grumbled ━ head ducking into the exposed skin of your neck, more kisses pressed onto your skin and the thought of marks being there from the amount of attention he’d paid to it was the last thing on either of your minds.

you were struggling now, too fucked out to process his words as quickly as he’d like ━ so much so a harsher thrust upwards had you aware you needed to answer him, yet you already forgot what he said.

“too fucked out to form words baby?” lando teased now that he knew he had your attention; and he chuckled once more when you shook your head quickly. “want to hear you say it.” he repeated, eyes piercing yours.

“wanna’ cum again,” your words were laced with desperation, needing to take a breath between sentences as his cock spread you open. “please let me cum,”

the british driver’s hum of satisfaction turned into a moan of pleasure at your plea, sounding and looking so pretty for him, it was clear you’d done enough as you felt his hand snake down between your bodies to your clit.

your vision went white practically immediately, almost yelping from how sensitive you were; thrown over the edge with little warm as you came on his dick ━ practically screaming his name as you did so.

lando came inside you merely a few seconds later, jaw slack from the sight of you and the way your walls squeezed him once more ━ only now was his thrusts sloppy as you both rode out your highs.

you were practically limp in his lap, forehead pressed against his shoulder as his own head rested against the headboard; heavy and irregular breaths filling the silence.

his hand moved to your head, fingers running through the strands of your hair comfortingly, the action causing you to hum in appreciation.

both of you were content with the silence, purely because neither of you knew exactly what to say. what to do. this was unexpected, to say the least.

you sat up straight after a couple minutes however, eyes meeting his ones; noticing the lack of intensity and confidence they held prior.

he was studying you as well, attempting to not spiral into a ‘what now.’

this meant a lot to him, he wouldn’t put that on you ━ that wouldn’t be fair. but you already had a good idea.

“i was wrong.” you finally managed to say what had been on the tip of your tongue, offering a small smile as his eyebrows raised in question.

he didn’t fully understand.

“about this. us. not making sense. being ridiculous.” you clarified, and the realisation washed over his features. you could feel him tense up slightly beneath you ━ shaking his head quickly.

“we don’t have to talk about it right now,” he assured in certainty. he didn’t want you to feel obligated to protect his feelings because you slept together.

which you appreciated, it was cute. he was thoughtful ━ which shouldn’t be a surprise.

“i’m not promising anything,” you clarified, dismissing him this time; you didn’t feel obligated at all. you weren’t saying you’d be his girlfriend and expected flowers when you woke up, but you needed him to know you no longer stood by what you said. you were also relieved to be able to articulate your thoughts. “but i was wrong.” you hummed.

a lazy smile spread on his features at that, acting like a catalyst for your own. a mumble of an okay and laughter was exchanged, before his lips were on yours again; a gentle kiss this time.

one you could certainly get used too.

━━

a/n: 615 days later and i’ve finally finished another fic. hope y’all r still there 😀😀

incredibly sorry for my inactivity and special shout out to everyone who has continued to support me despite the radio silence??? i love u

anyways i don’t love this but the fact i had the motivation to see it through was enough. hoping it’ll ease me back into writing and getting back up to standard, so apologises that it’s a little rusty 🫶🏼🫶🏼

what hasn’t changed is that it’s currently unedited and the ending is rushed hehe

as always feedback is always very much appreciated love u all mwahhh xoxo

[fluffylino]

a funny no nut november with hyunjin 🥟

hyunjin and you have high expectations about eachother's self control...FAILED!

-contains mature themes (hyunjin is crack)

"oh my god its november!" you exclaim, realising its november even though you're halfway through the month.

hyunjin furrows his eyebrows. clearly not understanding your point.

"its november as in, y'know..."

tilting your head to egg him on. all you are met back with is an even more confused expression.

"no nut november...?" you mumble, and begin laughing at his even more perplexed expression.

he brings his hands up in a questioning gesture.

"is it like...not eating any nuts or something? like almonds or walnuts?" and you now wonder the accuracy of him being the leader of paboracha.

"no! HYUNJ-"

"OH! is it because you don't eat any nuts in november so that in december, you can eat as many chocolates you want cause its christmas and every single person eats like a pig during holiday season! is that it?!"

"what-"

pausing to process what he just rambled on about. it actually made sense...

"NO! NO! even though you kind of made sense...no nut november has nothing to do with eating actual nuts like walnuts or whatever!"

"HUH? then what is it?" hyunjin sits straight. already perched closer to you. if his ears could grow, they would be like the baby elephant from the film 'dumbo'.

"no nut november is a whole month of no sex" you say in a straighforward manner.

"...why?" his eyes losing their spark. lips jutting out in a small pout.

"its a challenge! like to see if we can hold out . no cumming or you lose. do you want to try it out?"

"i mean, we haven't done anything since the last week of october cause i was on schedule..." hyunjin mumbles. craning his neck behind you to see the calendar.

"its the 17th of november already, that means we have about 13 days left..." he calculates, sitting silently in deep thought.

"no touching too?" he asks, blinking sweetly at you.

"touching and all is fine. just no cumming..."

"OKAY! GAME ON, BABY!"

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two days pass and you start to find it harder. maybe because now that you knew it was november, it made you more anxious to stick to the rules. hyunjin seemed to be doing well. not even bringing up the topic but not doing anything.

"don't look at me like that" you shriek, dramatically running away from him.

"like what?" he chuckles.

his hands covered in paint and hair messily sitting on his head. it nearly 1 am and he's about to wash up while you wait for him to join you in bed.

"like...that. DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!" pointing a finger at him. he inches closer and smirks devilishly when you jump back further.

"are you finding me incredibly irresistable right now, my love?" hyunjin whispers breathily. your body practically begging for him on the inside.

"yes! so stay back" you exclaim, putting your palm against his face.

smushing his lips away from yours. gasping as his hands quietly sneak around your waist.

"no self control when it comes to me?" pushing himself onto you. till the both of you fall back on the sheets.

core throbbing against his bulge. and you know he feels it, his lips turning up into a cheeky smile.

"missing me that much, baby?" prying your palm away from his face. pinning your hand down beside your head.

unconciously you spread your legs wider. his mouth opening in a small 'o'.

"have you seen yourself? you're sexier than you think" you mumble, eyes widening when his hand slides down your stomach. going over your waistband and patting over your covered mound.

"you want me, baby?" he whispers, fingers tapping against your aching cunt. looking down at you with a smirk. your panties are wet. sticking uncomfortably to your wetness.

a grunt escaping his mouth when you buck your hips up. smiling triumphantly at his hardness.

"10 more days." he whispers, sighing heavily.

"thats too long, isn't it..."

"we can do it, baby" hyunjin tries to encourage. his hips mindlessly rocking into you. for some reason, you can't stop yourself from meeting his sinful movements.

"yeah, we can...do it" squeezing your eyes shut. his hands hastily pulling his pants down. he goes silent for a few seconds, snorting in annoyance.

"no nut november is useless!" he says, dick slipping between your folds. rubbing himself eagerly.

"might as well just not eat almonds, walnuts and-" he blabbers on while simultaneously pushing his length past your entrance.

"HYUNJIN-"

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hyunjin paboooo