#because hell will that scene break my heart even more than its already broken…
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kelin-is-writing · 3 months ago
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Guess who’s not okay? That’s right… Me! 😃
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snoopyracing · 3 months ago
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champagne coast // ln4
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pairing: lando norris X reader
word count: 19k
warnings: cursing and alcohol use
includes: friends to lovers, summer!lando, clueless reader and lando, pining, fluff, and a little angst
summary: when lando and you spend summer break together you don't expect italy to eventually hold such a special place in your heart... or lando and you go on vacation and everyone keeps thinking you're a couple.
playlist for the fic: spotify | apple music
masterlist
─── ༺❀༻ ───
It was the Monday before the Belgium Grand Prix when Lando asked – what are you doing for summer break?
The sun had started to set over the coast, its golden reflection rippling across the water and onto the balcony of Lando’s Monaco apartment. The same balcony that the two of you currently resided on, choosing to share the wicker couch instead of one of you sitting in one of the empty chairs.
You were sat sideways on the couch with your legs crossed, your view consisting more of Lando than the picturesque sunset over the sea. A cheap bottle of pink moscato, which was your favorite, was sitting on the table where Lando had his feet propped up.
He’d always complain about how sweet it was, but then drink more of it than you. In all reality, he’d actually grown to love it because of you, but he’d never tell you that. He’d only been able to find it at one place in Monaco, so when he knew you were coming to visit he always made sure to have a couple bottles on hand and maybe a bottle for himself when he was missing you.
Your eyes met his as you processed his question. This right now was your summer vacation. He surely knew that, right? “Summer break? I don’t have a summer break like you do, Lando.” It was true, you had barely managed to get this week off from work to be able to go to Belgium, let alone have a month off. “I figured me being here for a couple days then going to Belgium would be my vacation.”
A disapproving sigh escapes past his lips as he speaks. “That is not a vacation.”
“Well it sure as hell beats being stuck at an office in London.”
He downed the remainder of the wine in his glass and fully turned his body towards you. His arm resting across the back of the couch, his fingers nearly touching you. “I think you should come with me on vacation.”
You stifle a groan by taking a drink of your wine. “Lando, you know I don’t do Ibiza. It's not my kind of place, especially this time of year.” It was a beautiful place no doubt, but the big party scene was not your favorite. And the couple times you had gone with Lando and your shared friend group it was so chaotic and you had a hangover that lasted for what seemed like a week. So no– Ibiza and you weren’t the best of friends.
“Who said anything about Ibiza?” He’s got a smirk toying at the corners of his lips, you can tell by the way his upper lip twitches slightly. Not that you stare at his lips that much to be able to notice that kind of thing.
“Lando Norris not going to Ibiza during his summer break? Should I alert the press? Did you hit your head? Are you running a fever?” You lean forward to check his temperature, but he playfully swatted away your hand with a giggle before you could get close enough. “Have you broken the news to Fewt-”
That smirk had fully developed across his face as he cut you off. “Who said anything about Max?”
Now you really thought that he’d bumped his head or was slightly tipsy already. You cocked an eyebrow at him in question. “Where are you going then? Especially without Max?”
Lando leaned back, the wicker creaking beneath him, but his eyes were still trained on you. Golden hour had made them even more blue, resembling the crystal blue water that was just a short walk away. “I’m going wherever you want to go.”
“Lando.”
“Y/N.” He’s the one to cock an eyebrow now.
“I can’t go with you.”
His smirk had turned into a pout and he knew how to work those big blue eyes, especially on you. “Why not? Wherever you want to go– we will go. Not many people get that opportunity Y/N.”
You go to take another drink and realize your glass is empty, but before you can reach for the bottle Lando’s already got it in his hands, reaching over slightly to pour you another glass. “Who all is going then if Max isn’t going?”
He sets the bottle back down on the table, hesitating for a moment before speaking. You two are close, probably the closest friend he has compared to Max, but he worries that you won’t be up for what he’s about to suggest. “It would just be me and you.”
You feel your cheeks get hot at his proposal, but you shake it off, blaming it on the wine.
As much as the idea of Lando and you going on a trip together sounds amazing, you just don’t think you can make it work. You live a normal life and being able to just go on lavish trips at the drop of a hat is not something you get to experience, no matter how much Lando wants you to or you would like to.
“I would love to Lan, but I don't think I could get the time off again.” Your finger nervously circles the rim of the wine glass as you contemplate even bringing your other reason up. Mainly because you know what his answer will be, but against your better judgment you take another swig of the wine as liquid courage before telling him the embarrassing truth. “I also just can’t afford it.”
And without skipping a beat he blurts out. “I’ll pay.” You’re immediately shaking your head no, but before you can verbally deny his offer he’s speaking again “Seriously Y/N. I will pay. It’s not a big deal.”
Except him paying your way for this trip is a big deal. Just how it’s a big deal everytime you come and visit him in Monaco and he insists that you don’t spend a dime while you’re here. It’s bad enough that you stay at his place, let alone have him pay for your dinner every night. Or how he is always offering to fly you out to races on your free weekends. Or insisting that the random gifts he gives you don’t cost that much, like you can’t read the designer labels on the boxes or labels.
It makes you feel bad that you can’t offer the same back to him. The constant worry that he might think you are using him for his money makes your stomach hurt because it’s the last thing you’d ever do. He’s one of the most giving and kindest people you know and to be able to call him your best friend is something you treasure. And you truly hope he knows how much you appreciate everything he does for you, but how could he not when you tell him every chance you get.
“Lando, really I cannot let you pay for me to go on vacation. It’s one thing to let me crash at your apartment and for you to get me passes to races, which I appreciate more than you will ever know. But I draw the line at a whole vacation. I don’t want to seem like a freeloader who is using you, that’s honestly the la-”
“Oh my god will you just let me spoil you!” Lando had enough of your endless rambling. Your need to always try and decline his gifts or offerings until he convinces you that you are worthy of them drives him crazy. To Lando there isn’t a person on Earth who deserves everything and more than you. And the fact that he can afford to give you anything you’d ever want tickles him pink. Hell if it was possible, he’d buy you the whole damn universe, even if you hadn’t asked for it.
“I hate that you think– that I would think you’re using me. Never in a million years would I think that. You mean a lot to me Y/N, truly. You’re one the most important people in my life and you deserve everything and more that I give you. If I thought you were using me, I would not be asking you to go on vacation with me, believe me. I love having you around and with us not seeing each other like we used to, I figured a trip with just the two of us would be nice.”
He pauses for a moment as he scoots a little closer to you on the couch, your legs touching as the glow from the sun envelopes around you two. “Now please don’t try and worm your way out of this trip. I’ve missed you so much and if you don’t end up going I think you’re just gonna have to move in with me.”
You roll your eyes at his dramatics, but try not to let his heartfelt words get to your head. “How would I even get the time off work again? Tell them ‘Oh my famous F1 driver best friend wants to take me on a trip. Can I please have some more time off?’ I don’t think that would work.”
“Well I think it would work. Especially if you add in that I’m super hot.”
The giggles that come from you lets you know that you’ve drank your fair share of wine for the evening. “Oh I don’t think they would ever tell me no If I added that in.”
“If they do say no then just quit and I’ll get you a job somehow with McLaren or Quadrant or something. I just really want to go on this trip with you.”
You aren’t sure if it's the wine in your system or the fact that you want nothing more right now than to spend a week with Lando in some beautiful country, without a care in the world. But you ignore every responsible and logical part of you and tell him what he wants to hear.
“Alright. So where are we going then?”
His eyes light up and the smile that spreads across his face is comparable to that first win smile. “That’s all up to you baby.”
Both of your hearts skip a beat at the term of endearment that came from him. His because he can’t believe he let it slip and yours because you can’t believe he called you that so easily. But you both ignore it and you focus on the one place you’d had on your mind since he mentioned taking a trip.
“Italy?” You suggest with a hopeful smile on your face.
He fills up his glass with the last of the fruit juice like wine and holds it up towards you, your glasses clinking together in a toast. “Italy it is then.”
─── ༺❀༻ ───
Six days later an email notification pops up on your phone as you’re sitting in McLaren’s hospitality, talking with Lando’s Mom. You glance at who it’s from, not wanting to be rude and get on your phone mid conversation, but when you see your boss’s contact you can’t help but open it. “I’m sorry, it’s from work.” Cisca waved you off, the conversation had only consisted of why they couldn’t stock better snacks in hospitality, and she knew if work was emailing you on a Sunday it had to be important.
You had emailed them Monday night requesting the time off and when they hadn’t responded by Friday you figured they were denying it. Or firing you for requesting more time off while currently being on a vacation. So to be getting this email on a Sunday had you worried, but as your eyes scanned the email you couldn’t hold back the excitement. By some higher power unbestowed to you, they had granted you the time off.
“Never seen someone so excited over an email from work.” Cisca teased.
“Yeah. Honestly thought I was getting fired, but they approved my time off for the Italy trip Lando and I are taking.” You leaned back in the chair, relief finally washing over you.
“Just the two of you?” Cisca had her suspicions about her son’s feelings towards you and your feelings towards him. She’d secretly hoped the two of you would end up together the first time she met you years ago. She honestly thought you were his girlfriend that day and was surprised when he introduced you as his friend. Then she thought maybe he was hiding your relationship because she had never known her son to bring around a female friend like he had you.
You had attended family dinners, a couple holidays, races, and so many other things that just didn’t seem normal to bring a friend to. They had become so accustomed to you being around that when he finally said that he was bringing home his girlfriend for everyone to meet and you didn’t walk through the door— everyone was a little shell shocked. The relationship didn’t last long and she had her theories as to why. To Cisca there was just no way the two of you didn’t have feelings for eachother, she could see it plain as day, and it drove her crazy that the two of you didn’t see it.
“Yeah. At first I thought he was asking me to go to Ibiza again with everyone and you know me, it’s not my thing. But then he said we could go anywhere I wanted and that it was just me and him, so I chose Italy.” You gathered your things, eager to tell Lando the good news before race time. “You raised a good man, Cisca. I couldn’t ask for a better person in my life than him.”
There’s a smile on her face as she watches you talk about Lando, how your smile never falters and how that twinkle in your eye seems to get brighter the more you talk about him. “Thank you honey. You had better go tell him, hadn’t you?”
“I’ll be back!”
Thankfully Lando’s not that hard to find, he’s in the garage looking over some data on the monitors with Will when you spot him. You stand back out of the way, waiting until he’s done, but as soon as he turns to walk away you’re racing towards him. Your arms flinging around him from behind and you can feel him tense under you, but when he hears your laughter his muscles relax.
“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Lando asks as he turns around to face you, his hands lingering on your hips.
“Hmmm. It may have something to do with work approving my time off.”
That same smile from the other night finds its way onto his face and he’s pulling you into his arms, the two of you swaying back and forth as he nuzzles his head into your neck. “I knew they would approve it, it was meant to be.” His voice tickles your neck as he speaks causing a giggle to escape past your lips.
“Can’t believe we get to spend a week together in Italy.” You state as he releases you from his grip.
“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
You furrow your eyebrows at him, still not sure that he wouldn’t rather be going to Ibiza with his friends.”You’re sure you’re not gonna miss Ibiza?”
His fingers toy with the hem of your shirt as he speaks– his blue eyes boring into yours. “I’d miss you more if I went.” And there isn’t a single ounce of doubt in his words. If he ended up going to Ibiza without you, he’d be at a club wondering what you were doing. Eventually downing one too many shots to try and numb that annoying ache in his chest that forms when you aren’t around. The one that even with you around this week, he had felt occasionally at the idea of you not being able to go to Italy.
The idea of him spending his summer break back in England had crossed his mind a couple times, especially if that meant he got to spend time with you. Luckily though fate was on his side today and he wouldn’t have to deal with that ache for the foreseeable future.
You can feel the slight blush on your cheeks as you process what Lando had said to you and you pray he doesn’t notice it. Just him simply saying he’d miss you if he went to Ibiza should not have you blushing, but here recently it seemed like that was all he could do was make you blush.
A familiar Australian accent hits your ears and around the corner comes Oscar, his hand clamping down on Lando’s shoulder as he comes up behind him. “Y/N. Haven’t seen you in awhile.” His bunny teeth showing as he flashes you a smile.
Your mouth barely opens to speak before Lando’s speaking for you. “I know. She’s been too busy working back in London to come see her favorite person.”
“I’m really such a horrible friend. I’m so sorry Oscar, I really should make more time to see you. In fact, how’s Australia this time of year? I think I might come visit you.” The playful smirk on your face and Oscar’s laugh does nothing to tell Lando that you’re just joking and like a little kid he’s got his arms crossed across his chest with a slight pout on his face.
“Um. I think I’m your favorite person Y/N. Plus you can’t even go to Australia because we are going to Italy.”
Oscar and you can’t help but laugh at Lando’s dramatics, but Oscar wants to tease Lando even further. He knows how his older teammate feels about you, even if Lando won’t give the idea any time of day when Oscar brings it up. Lando had confided in Oscar about his idea to take you on a trip, but Oscar didn’t think he’d actually go through with it. “Italy? Who’s all going? Maybe Lily and I could tag along?”
Lando’s eyes widen at Oscar’s suggestion, mainly because he knows you’d jump at any opportunity to spend time with Lily and this trip was meant to be just for the two of you. “It’s just gonna be me and Y/N…” He trials off, trying to figure out how to nicely tell Oscar that he can’t come.
“There's a month between Singapore and Austin. We should all plan something for then.” You chime in. As much as you would love to spend time with Oscar and Lily, you really want to have this trip just be Lando and you.
Lando’s surprised at you turning down Oscar’s suggestion, but smiles and nods towards Oscar, agreeing with your idea. “Yeah that sounds like a good idea.” Oscar states, a small smirk on his face as he eyes the two of you, fully knowing that you’ll come back from Italy together. And if you don’t Oscar thinks he may have to knock some sense into his teammate.
The driver’s parade was set to start soon, so you tell Oscar you’ll see him around and give Lando a hug, knowing you won’t see him again until after the race. “I’ll see you later, yeah? Be safe and good luck.”
Lando’s grip on you lingers, not wanting to fully let you go just yet, but when they get the final warning that it’s time to go he reluctantly frees you. A small frown on his face as he heads towards the track and you go back to hospitality.
The two McLaren drivers stood side by side on the flatbed of the moving truck, smiles on their faces as they waved at the fans in the grandstands. “Never seen two friends like you and Y/N go on a trip together– alone.” Oscar’s voice is low, there’s an interview going on to his left, but he’s loud enough that Lando can hear him.
Lando keeps looking straight forward as he speaks. “Don’t know what you mean by that.”
“I think you fully know what I mean.”
Max, who was on the other side of Lando, had been eavesdropping the whole time, and couldn’t help but put his two cents in. “If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about. I just want to say, do us all a favor and finally tell her how you feel.”
Lando shook his head at the two drivers. You two were just very close best friends, there wasn’t anything he needed to admit to you. It was just a trip that two best friends were going on and there was nothing more to it– right?
─── ༺❀༻ ───
A week and a half later your plane touches down in Naples and even though the flight from London is only around three hours you want nothing more than to just get to the hotel and relax.
The Uber ride from the airport to the hotel thankfully doesn’t take long and you have no issue with sitting down in the lobby of the hotel with all the luggage while Lando checks you two in. You do notice that it’s taking quite a long time for Lando to check in and as you glance up from your phone towards the reception desk you see him talking with the worker and showing her something on his phone. Then with a sigh and a shake of his head he turns on his heel back towards you.
“Everything alright?” You ask.
He slips his phone back into his pocket and grabs his suitcase. “I booked us a two bedroom suite and they told me that all they have available is a one bedroom. Even though I showed them the booking on my phone, someone is already in it. So, I’ll just take the couch and you can have the bed.”
This place was fancy, and Lando had undoubtedly paid a pretty penny for the two nights that you were staying here. You would have thought they would have comped the room or something for their mistake. But by the displeased look on his face it didn’t seem they offered him anything but a sorry for the inconvenience.
Even with the hotel screwing up the room, the one you end up with is amazing and as you enter the room your jaw drops slightly at it. You set your bags down and explore the room further, taking in all the beautiful artwork on the walls and the natural light streaming in through the floor to ceiling windows. You enter a door to your left and it’s the bedroom, which is even better than the main room, mainly because of the huge balcony that overlooks the sea.
There’s a gentle breeze in the air as you lean against the railing, taking in the view and the hustle and bustle from the surrounding area.
“Beautiful isn’t it?” Lando’s voice makes you jump, you were so lost in your own little world you didn’t even hear him come out onto the balcony. You nod your head in agreement as he slots himself beside you, mimicking your actions of leaning on the railing. “And it’s not even the best part of our trip.”
“You know you didn’t have to get such a nice room, we are only in Naples for two days.” As much as you try not to feel guilty about him paying for all of this, you do.
“And what did I say a couple weeks ago?”
A groan emits from you as you remember his words to you in Monaco. “You said to let you spoil me.”
“Exactly. I just want you to enjoy yourself and stop worrying about how much everything costs. We are here to relax and have fun, which means figuring out what we want to do tonight.”
You ponder your endless options and all you really want to do is sit on this balcony and enjoy the view, but your stomach growling tells you maybe dinner would be a good idea first. “We are in Italy– how about getting some pizza and then just come back here and relax?” Lando agrees and while you’re freshening up he looks up good pizza places within walking distance.
You two are just about ready to leave when there's a knock on the door, followed by room service!
A confused look is shared between you two, but when Lando looks through the peephole there stands a worker with a room service cart. He opens the door and is greeted with a smile from the employee.
“From the hotel as an apology about the room.” The employee hands Lando an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne nestled in it. “Have a nice rest of your stay.”
Lando looks back at you with an amused look on his face as the guy quickly leaves, the wheels of the cart squeaking as he hurries down the hall. “Well, we have something to drink on the balcony later.” Lando states as he sets the bucket down on the coffee table.
“Champagne and pizza? No thanks.” You see there’s a card attached to the bottle and as you open the envelope and read the words written, your cheeks turn scarlet.
“What does it say?” Lando questions, moving to stand behind you so he can read it too. His eyes scan the letter and he soon finds himself in the same state as you. He clears his throat as he steps back, suddenly feeling too close to you at the moment.
to the happy couple,
we are so deeply sorry about the mix up with rooms and we hope you can accept our apologies. we’ve sent a bottle of the finest champagne that you can get in naples and have comped any room service you may order during your stay. as always if you need anything please don’t hesitate to call the front desk and once again we sincerely apologize for our mistake. we hope you enjoy your stay here and the city of naples.
The letter isn’t spoken about, actually what you two were addressed as isn’t spoken about, but you both agree that their actions were nice. The walk to the pizza place is quiet, the both of you occasionally pointing out things that you think are interesting or pretty, but both of your minds are preoccupied with being mistaken for a couple. Anyone else would have laughed it off, but clearly not the two of you.
By the time you’re back at the hotel and sat on the balcony with the pizza and champagne your conversation had returned to normal. You teasing Lando about not even drinking the glass he had poured for himself and him complaining about you insisting that you get a pizza that has peppers on it.
“You know what would make this evening even better?” The pizza is long gone and the two of you are sat admiring the painting in the sky left behind from the sun.
“Some pink moscato?” There’s a grin on his face as he says it. If there’s one thing he knows you love, it’s a glass of pink moscato on a balcony with a view.
You try to hide the smile on your face as you glance over at him, but he’s caught you. “You know me too well Norris.”
“Should’ve told that employee that we wanted a ten dollar bottle of wine instead of that champagne.” Lando jokes.
“Thought you didn’t like it? That it was too sweet?”
He shuffles slightly in his seat, fully knowing that you’d caught on to his facade. “I may have grown to love it.” He admits quietly.
You’d known for a while, but hearing him say it was much more satisfying. “Yeah. Kinda figured it out last year when you started drinking more of it than me.”
Nighttime draws near and once you start yawning, so does Lando, and after the fourth round of yawning Lando states that it’s time for bed. The subject the two of you hadn’t discussed any further than what was said in the lobby earlier. The guilt started to eat at you as you brushed your teeth, he’d invited you and is paying for everything and he doesn’t even get to sleep in a bed? What kind of friend were you?
Lando was making the couch up as you walked out of the bathroom and for this being a luxury hotel that couch looked stiff and seemed to be more for show than actual comfort. He already had a bad back and it looked like sleeping on that couch was going to have him trying to find a chiropractor tomorrow instead of sightseeing. “Lan. You take the bed and I’ll sleep on the couch.”
He doesn’t even look back at you, still occupied with trying to make the couch somewhat comfortable. “No. I’ll be fine. You take the bed.”
“Lando.”
“Y/N.”
“Lando, look at me.” You knew he wasn’t going to budge with the whole couch thing, so you thought of the next best thing. The two of you sharing the bed. It was plenty big and truly it shouldn’t be that big of a deal if you two shared it. You were grown adults and bestfriends, no one should have to sleep on the couch.
His focus tears away from the couch and over to you, who’s already in bed and under the covers. “Look at how big this bed is.” Your body extends over to the other side trying to show him just how big the bed is. “Just sleep in the bed with me, there is plenty of room.”
Your offer takes him by surprise and he stills for a moment, he’d love nothing more than to climb into that bed right now, but a part of his brain is telling him not to. And he’s about ready to tell you no once again until he makes eye contact with you. Those damn eyes of yours could be used in interrogation rooms across the world, one look into them and he’s crumbling like a poorly built sandcastle. The gentle pat on the empty side of the bed is what flattens the sandcastle and he’s mumbling out an okay before sliding under the sheets next to you.
The two of you don’t know what to do for a moment, both still and flat on your backs under the sheets, like if you moved an inch the gremlin under the bed was going to get you. But eventually Lando turns on his side, mumbling out a goodnight as he pulls the comforter closer to him. You take his actions as a sign for you to roll over too and you figured that falling asleep wouldn’t be an issue after all the yawning earlier, but you were wrong. You tried counting sheep, tried laying on your back, tried anything you could think of to fall asleep and nothing worked. It wasn’t like there was a major time difference between here and London, it was literally only an hour, so unfortunately jet lag could not be to blame.
Lando hadn’t moved the whole time and you figured he fell asleep as soon as he turned over, but you were bored and going a little crazy because even though you were tired, you couldn’t fall asleep. “Lando.” You whispered, but got no response. “Lando. Are you awake?” You whisper a little louder this time, but still no response. So with a defeated sigh you roll back over and shut your eyes, praying that this time you can go to sleep. But within a matter of seconds you feel the bed shift and Lando’s voice echoing through the room.
“I’m awake.”
You roll back over— the two of you now facing each other. “Why didn’t you answer me a minute ago?”
“I was trying to go to sleep myself.”
“Oh sorry. I’ll go out to the other room and watch some TV or something.” You barely move an inch before Lando’s got his fingers wrapped around your forearm, gently pulling you back towards him.
“No, don't leave.”
You can feel your heartbeat quickening as you realize just how close the two of you are. The glow from the moon cascades through the balcony doors allowing you to make out the moles on his face and those pretty long eyelashes of his that make his already breathtaking eyes seem even more beautiful. Sometimes you think he has stars in his eyes from the way that they sparkle. And as the two of you lay here right now, you realize the only reason that the moonlight is flooding into the room is because she’s looking for her lost stars that have found a home in Lando’s eyes.
“You got any ideas on how to fall asleep? I’ve tried just about everything in the book.” For some reason you're whispering and you wonder if it’s from how close you are to Lando’s face or how suddenly nervous you are to be this close to Lando.
He’s silent for a moment, the logical and sane part of him screaming at him to not even suggest what he’s been thinking about ever since climbing under these sheets. The mere idea of it being the thing that had prevented him from being fast asleep by now. But he’s got you at literal fingertips length and he thinks there may not be another opportunity like this again. So– he acts with his heart and not his brain.
“Come here.” He’s moved onto his back with his arm outstretched towards you.
“Huh?” You know exactly what he’s insinuating, but you can’t actually believe that he is.
“You wanted an idea on how to fall asleep and this is my idea. I’ll get you to fall asleep in no time.
“You think us cuddling is gonna get me to fall asleep?” You definitely hadn’t wondered what it would be like to be wrapped up in Lando’s arms before. How it would feel to have his fingertips trance mindless patterns across your skin or have your head on his chest. He was your best friend, which meant those thoughts had never crossed your mind– right?
He shrugs, trying to hide the nervousness in his demeanor, the mere thought of you denying him right now was enough to have him on the next flight back to Monaco in the morning. He should have never put himself in this situation, but god as soon as he climbed into this bed all he wanted to do was have you wrapped up in his arms.
It had consumed his brain, and then consumed it even more because why was he having this desire to have such a tender moment with his best friend? Though his brain stops spiraling when he feels the bed shift and you’re suddenly tucking yourself into his side, arm slung over his torso, and your head laying on his chest. The same chest that his heart is about ready to beat out of and he prays you can’t hear how hard it’s working.
But as you both get settled and Lando’s heartbeat finally mellows out he realizes just how right this feels, like the two of you were matching puzzle pieces. Any other girl he had cuddled with before now seemed to feel wrong because as far as he was concerned, nothing felt better than this. It felt natural and easy and he found himself drawing absent minded patterns on your side where your shirt had bunched up.
He’d spend the rest of his life here in this moment with you if he could. And when he hears your slight snores something short circuits in his brain and he’s pressing a kiss to the top of your head mumbling out goodnight before he’s out like a light too. The moonlight blanketing over the two of you, who right now look more like lovers than best friends.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
The next morning you’re already up and ready for the day by the time Lando wakes up and he tries to hide the disappointment of not waking up next to you, already missing the feeling of having you so close. A feeling though nice, he knew it was one that he probably shouldn’t be feeling. He asks you if you slept well while he’s getting ready and you tell him yes, not going into very much detail, for your own sake and his.
The day is full of sightseeing and lots of walking, which is something that Lando likes to complain about. You visit Pompeii and a handful of other places for you and Lando to nerd out about and truly be tourists. You eat amazing food that Lando says his trainer will hate him for, but he justifies it with the excuse of being on vacation. Hundreds of pictures were taken, your phones already begging for more storage and it was only the first day of the trip. Lando even went as far as bringing an actual camera, stating that lando.jpg would be revived soon.
But in between the sightseeing, eating, and everything else– both of your brains immediately go back to the sleeping arrangements from last night. You both can’t stop thinking about it, but no one brings it up, almost like it’s something you should be ashamed of. No one wants to admit how right it felt to be in eachothers arms last night or how both of you probably had the best sleep of your lives.
You didn’t want to admit that when you woke up this morning to Lando spooning you, your stomach was doing flips over the realization that you had moved in the middle of the night and he had found his way back to you. So many thoughts and emotions running through your brains, yet you both think it’s better to just act like it's not a big deal.
Night falls once again and Lando crawls into bed next to you. You’re both absolutely spent after the eventful day you’ve had and Lando worries that you won’t need him to fall asleep, but his worries soon dissipate because you’re tucking yourself into his side as soon as he’s gotten himself comfortable. You’re like a moth to a flame– the consequences of these actions never even enter your mind as slowly feel yourself drifting off to sleep.
And when morning comes you don’t run away when you feel Lando’s arms around you, even with the butterflies making an appearance again. You enjoy your moment alone, the sun shining in through the windows, the sound of the city already alive, and the way Lando looks as he sleeps. It's truly a beautiful morning.
He wakes up not too long after you and there’s a funny feeling in his chest when he realizes that he’s gotten to wake up with you still in his arms. That you were the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes. It all just feels so natural and right, that once again no words are spoken about this very non-platonic thing that is happening between you two.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
“We’ve got a little bit a drive ahead of us today.” Lando states as he comes out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel. Water droplets are scattered across his tan skin, his damp curls falling slightly onto his forehead. You’re trying not to stare, but good lord how could anyone not.
“It’s only like an hour.” You're still sitting in bed, propped up against the headboard as you now watch him rummage through his suitcase.
He holds up a shirt and shorts, silently asking for your opinion. You give him a nod of approval and he heads back to the bathroom to get dressed, but he leaves the door slightly cracked so he can still talk to you. “Yeah it was an hour. I’ve canceled the driver and made some new plans for today.”
“New plans?” You raise your voice slightly so he can hear you.
“It’s a surprise.” He peeks his head around the slightly open door— a mischievous smile painted across his face, before disappearing behind it once more. “So you had better start getting ready.” He commands as the door fully opens, revealing a fully dressed Lando.
A few short moments later a domestic scene plays out in the bathroom mirror. The double sinks both occupied, various hair products, makeup, and other random items are scattered across the counter. You’re watching Lando through the mirror as he tries to wrangle the mop of curls on his head, but everytime you look away he’s watching you brush your teeth or do your skincare. And the occasional times your eyes do meet in the mirror you’re both like little kids, eyes immediately darting away with smiles on your faces and little giggles echoing through the bathroom.
“You gonna tell me what the surprise is?” Patience had never been your strong suit and thus knowing about surprises was like a form of torture to you.
“If I told you it wouldn’t be a surprise now would it?” He’s still screwing with his hair, but he’s looking at you through the mirror.
“Oh come on, just tell me. Pretty pretty please?” You’ve come up behind him, your chin resting on his shoulder as you flash your best puppy dog eyes at him through the mirror. And for a split second Lando almost cracks– those puppy dog eyes working on him better than you would have ever thought.
“The faster we pack everything up, the faster you get the surprise.” He’s shocked his words come out smoothly, his brain still foggy from your pretty eyes and close contact.
Ten minutes later you’re walking out of the elevator and into the hotel lobby, where Lando tells you to wait while he goes outside for a moment. You assume the surprise is outside and so you try to peek and see what’s out there, but he’s coming back in before you can get a good look.
“Alright let’s go.”
You don’t see anything that you would consider surprise worthy as you walk out the doors, but then Lando leads you towards the cars parked outside the hotel and stops in front of a vintage yellow Ferrari. Your eyes dart back and forth between Lando and the car, unsure if he was just stopping to admire it or if you were going to be riding in it. He answers your unasked question by opening the passenger side door, motioning for you to get in.
“Is this the surprise? Where did you even get this car from?” Your eyes widening over the car itself and the fact that he’d gone through the trouble of even finding the car.
“It’s part of the surprise-” He’s got a smirk on his face as he speaks “and I have my connections.” He motions once again for you to get into the car and this time you don’t oblige. The leather seat soft under your legs as you sit down, the car was surely close to 60 years old, yet still looked brand new.
Lando puts the luggage in the trunk while you're examining all of the car’s little quirks and details while you wait.
“Ok, you ready?” Lando asks as he gets in the driver's seat.
“Gonna tell me the other part of the surprise?”
He sighs, he wanted you to figure it out on your own, but you were so persistent sometimes. “You know how you’ve always talked about wanting to drive along the coast of Italy?” You nod, a smile already forming on your face as you realize what he’s planned for you. “Well, instead of just taking the straight shot over, we’re gonna take the long way all along the Amalfi coast. And I figured it was only fitting that we do it in a Ferrari, considering we are in Italy after all.”
You can’t wipe the smile off your face as you stare at Lando from the passenger seat. Sometimes you wondered if he was even listening to you when you spoke, but then he pulls stuff like this and you know that he’s always listening– remembering things that you care about or like. “God, I don’t deserve you.”
Thankfully the car is still parked because you’re pulling Lando into a bone crushing hug, your cheek smushed up against the side of his head, a giggle emitting from him as he tries to hug you back.
“When you told me your work approved the time off, I knew for sure that this was one thing that I wanted to make happen. That same night I was online trying to find a car to rent for the day, but then I saw this one for sale…” His words trail off and your jaw drops at the realization, but in all reality you know it’s a very Lando thing to do.
“And now we’re sitting in your newest baby?”
He’s got a sheepish look on his face as he speaks. “As soon as I saw it I knew it was the perfect car for this. Plus it’s the ultimate vacation souvenir!”
“You’re crazy.” He actually couldn’t be more perfect.
“Yeah, but you love me.” He teases as he starts the engine.
“Unfortunately.”
─── ༺❀༻ ───
The long winding road along the coast provided scenery that was beyond your wildest dreams. It was serene and picturesque– like something straight out of a movie. The bright blue water on one side of the road and the white stone mountains on the other. The various tunnels that somehow had even more breathtaking views on the other side of them. The handful of towns that you had to drive through, each of them more charming than the last, you only wished you had enough time to stay a week in all of them.
As simple as this was, you would have been more than content with this trip if you went home tomorrow, not that you wanted to, it was just that sometimes the simple things in life meant more than anything lavish to you. You weren’t hard to please, all you needed was Lando singing along to some song on the radio, beautiful scenery, and the wind blowing in your hair for you to be the happiest girl in the world right now.
The whole trip your attention was divided between the coastal beauty and the beauty in the driver's seat. You couldn’t help but glance over ever so often at Lando, especially when you’d hear him start to sing along to a song. He just looked so ethereal sitting next to you, one hand on the steering wheel– the other resting between you two.
There was a moment where you felt the sudden urge to reach out and intertwine your fingers with his, a moment of insanity you’d thought. It surely had nothing to do with how sunkissed he looked from only being in the sun one day, or how the wind had made his curls the perfect amount of messy, or how you’d catch him looking over at you with a smile on his face.
If only you knew that Lando had been fighting the urge to reach out and grab your hand too. He’d never seen you so ecstatic over something as simple as going for a drive, but he’d drive this car till he ran out of road or gas, whichever came first, just to see that smile of yours. The way your eyes sparkled in the sunlight and how you giggled at his singing was just an added bonus, but all of them made his chest feel funny. He’d been around the world more times than he could count, seen so many breathtaking places, but right now none of those places compared to the beauty that was sitting next to him in this car.
You’re in your own little world so much that you don’t even realize you’ve made it to your destination until Lando’s putting the car in park in front of a very luxurious looking villa. “We’ve arrived.” Lando states in a sing-song voice.
“Is this when you tell me Max and everyone else are actually coming too?” You question, flabbergasted over the size of the house. And you can tell what he’s thinking just by his facial expression. “Lando this place is huge just for the two of us.”
He rolls his eyes before getting out of the car to get luggage. “It’s actually a lot smaller than you think.”
When you step foot into the two story villa it immediately has that Mediterranean coast charm with intricate tile floors, artwork that adorns the walls, and windows with the most gorgeous views– needles to say you’re in love.
Then you take in just how big the place is with it’s one too many bedrooms and bathrooms and various other rooms that you probably won’t even use. Lando’s words echo in your head as you explore the house some more, and there’s nothing small about this place at all. “You’re such a liar Lan.” Your words are playful as you walk through one of the many french doors in the house that leads out to the back.
“Lie? I would nev-”
“Oh my god!” He’s cut off by you realizing that the backyard of this villa is nothing shy of paradise. A massive pergola covered part of the back of the house with vibrant bougainvillea lining the top and hanging down the sides. Various other flowers and plants are scattered strategically around the area. Under the pergola there's an outdoor kitchen and a large glass dining table, clearly meant to host a group of people, not two. Further out there’s a pool with sunbeds lined down one side of it– a poolside bar on the other.
All of these things are great, but the real show stopper is the view that this place has. From the front of the house you can’t really tell just how close you are to the water, but from out back it’s a completely different view. There’s a separate sitting area slightly further out from the pool. It’s got a little pergola of its own with couches and chairs and one of those fancy rock fire pits and that is where you get the best view.
It’s like something out of a nature documentary– it’s so perfect that it almost seems fake. The sea is so close that you can hear the waves crashing against the rocks and it’s just endless bright blue water for days. You thought the view in Naples was pretty, but this was breathtaking.
“Knew you’d love this place.” Lando states as he comes up beside you, acting like he hadn’t been lingering behind you the whole time, admiring the view (you) from afar.
It was true though, Lando knew as soon as he saw this place online that it was the one. It didn’t matter that he paid an astronomical amount for it or that the house was way too big for just the two of you. All it took was for him to see the view to know you’d be the happiest girl in the world here.
He could picture you two sitting out here in the evening, watching the sun set over the coast, undoubtedly with a bottle of pink moscato. You’d end up drinking one too many glasses and your cheeks would get red and you’d get the giggles.
As Lando stood here– eyes never leaving the beautiful scene in front of him. He can’t help but feel that funny feeling in his chest over how radiant and happy you look. And he thinks that if this house was for sale he’d buy it in a heartbeat, if that meant he got to see you like this all the time.
A smile finds its way onto your face as you glance over at the guy you call your best friend. “You weren’t lying when you said you were gonna spoil me, huh?” You gently nudge him with your elbow, your smile growing even bigger at his response.
“Only the best for my favorite person.” His smile is equally as big as you lean your head on his shoulder and in that moment he thinks that maybe the reserve driver could just finish out the season and he could just stay here with you.
That night as you both head to your rooms there’s an obvious tension in the air. You’re both slowly making your ascent up the stairs and lingering in the hall, trying to milk every last second until you inevitably have to go into your separate rooms.
After so long though, you’re the first to cave as your hand reaches for the doorknob. Your door creaks open and you’re mumbling out goodnight lan, i’ll see you in the morning before entering the room. Although you don’t close the door behind you and Lando takes that as an invitation to linger in your doorway. He doesn’t need to speak for you to know he’s there, you can feel his presence, and subconsciously you’ve left that door open for him.
“Goodnight Y/N.” You’ve got your back turned to him as you're digging through your suitcase for pajamas, but you can hear the slight grin he has on his face as he speaks.
The sight of Lando as you turn around has butterflies erupting in your stomach and it makes you feel weird to be feeling those things about your best friend. He’s leaned up against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest and that grin that you’d sensed him having was still on his face as he looked at you. Your eyes scanned over him, focusing on little details like his hair still being wind tousled and how the tops of his cheeks were slightly burnt from the car ride today.
And for someone who claimed to not need a ton of sleep– he looked so sleepy as the two of you locked eyes. Those big blue eyes slowly blinking and drooping ever so slightly as his head now too rested against the door frame. He still donned the hoodie that you teased him about putting on earlier after his claims of it being chilly once the sun set, only adding to the sleepy look he had going on right now.
Someone had never looked so cozy and you wanted nothing more than to be wrapped up in his arms, but that wasn’t going to happen tonight. You will tell him goodnight again and he’ll close the door behind him before shuffling over to his room. Your mind will be preoccupied with him as you get ready for bed, the image of him in your doorway forever burned into your mind as you brush your teeth. As you crawl into bed you won’t think about how cold the sheets feel or how you want to be cuddled up to your best friend. You won’t think about how it’s been two hours that you’ve laid here and sleep has yet to greet you. And you certainly won’t think about how you’d be fast asleep right now if Lando was beside you.
But unfortunately you do think about all those things and you’ve exhausted every resource to try and distract you from it. It was different at the hotel when there was only one bed, but now with multiple bedrooms to choose from there was no reason for the two of you to sleep in the same bed. Lines were already blurring between you two without either of you knowing it and if you chose to go seek solace with Lando then those lines would blur even more.
But you didn’t know that your actions would eventually have consequences and seconds later you’re throwing the covers off of you with only one destination in mind– Lando’s room. The journey though, is short lived because as soon as you open your door you’re met with a wide eyed Lando, his fist frozen in the air like he was getting ready to knock on your door.
The frozen fist moves to rubbing the back of his neck as he speaks to you. “Sorry, was coming to see if you were still awake.”
“I was coming to see if you were up too.” He’s still got that hoodie on from earlier, but you noticed he’d changed out his shorts for boxers. His hair was even more messy and you’d wondered if he had even fallen asleep yet. “Couldn’t sleep either?”
Lando shrugs. “Not really– kept tossing and turning.” He acts like the reason he can’t go to sleep isn’t right in front of him as he rests his head on the familiar door frame.
“Yeah I can tell by your hair.” You tease. He just gives you a half assed smile and when he doesn’t tease you back that’s when you realize just how tired he is. “You want to watch some TV or something? ”
He shakes his head no. The only thing he wants to do is go to sleep, but how can he when you’re not next to him? It was embarrassing to admit that only after two nights of sharing the same bed that he couldn’t sleep on his own, but here he was. His big bed felt too empty and he realized that even if he slept in a twin sized bed it would still feel empty without you next to him.
Not to mention he’d found comfort in you being his personal heater at night. It was no secret that Lando ran cold, often seen sporting a jacket during race weekends while his teammate was in shorts. So with his personal heater gone, he’d resorted to wearing a hoodie to bed, which didn’t come close to holding a candle to you.
When he finally worked up the courage to get up and go to your room he was pleasantly surprised to find you up too and facing the same problem as him. A little sliver of him hoping that it was the exact same problem and that you couldn’t sleep without him.
For a split second you caught his eyes looking past you and towards your bed. He couldn’t have made it any more obvious, but if was actually hinting at what you thought he was hinting at, then you weren’t going to pass up on the opportunity. It wasn’t a coincidence that he had come to your door and that you both had trouble sleeping in separate beds. So, you act on impulse and tell him come on just sleep in here tonight and like a little kid who’s gotten scared of the thunder at night he’s crawling into your bed in an instant.
It’s like you two are magnets– immediately finding your way to each other under the sheets and it doesn’t take long for the both of you to finally fall asleep. And some time in the middle of the night Lando had shed his hoodie, no longer needing it with you pressed against him. When you two wake in the morning with the sun streaming through the windows and sleepy smiles plastered on your faces, there’s an unspoken agreement that even with the plethora of beds in this house, you two would be sleeping in the same one every night.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
Lando and you were best friends, nothing more. Nevermind the sharing a bed every night or the longing glances or the sometimes suggestive thoughts you had about him. So maybe your friendship wasn’t practical or normal, but there was nothing romantic going on between you two. It was something you had drilled into your head for some time now. You’d try to ignore the way your heart would speed up when you’d catch him looking at you or the way he always has to have physical contact with you. And any other crazy thoughts that you’d speculated about had always been pushed aside rather quickly. He was your best friend after all and once again nothing more.
Though over the course of the week you’d found yourself having a hard time in pushing aside those non platonic thoughts about Lando. There were instances you two had found yourselves in that you just couldn’t ignore.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
“What’s the plan for today?” You ask as the two of you are sitting outside the cutest little restaurant, enjoying brunch.
Lando finishes the last little bit of his eggs before answering you. “Well nothing that involves you getting behind a motor vehicle with the way you’ve been downing those bellinis.” You roll your eyes at his dramatics. Yes, you’d had your fair share of bellinis, but they were so damn good and there really wasn’t that much alcohol in them for it to be an issue. “How about we just see where the day takes us?”
“Well I already had the idea of renting jet skis in my head, but I guess we’ll do what you suggested.” You joke.
Now Lando’s the one to roll his eyes at you as he flags down the waiter for the check. He doesn’t even look at it when it’s brought over, he just hands his card over like it’s nothing. It’s something that you still aren’t used to him doing even after knowing him for so long and you’re sure he’s gotten ripped off more times than he could imagine.
He quickly signs for it once the waiter comes back and with his card back in his wallet you’re free to go. Except when you stand up all those bellinis hit you and you’re a little unsteady on your feet, something that Lando clocks immediately. You aren’t drunk, just buzzed, but Lando isn’t going to let you live this down. “You wanted to rent jet skis huh?” He teases as he wraps an arm around your waist to steady you.
“Think we still could to be honest.” You’re confident in your ability to walk on your own, but Lando insists on keeping his hold on you.
“Well I don’t want to waste a day at the hospital, so let’s just look around at the shops.”
You’d passed them on your way to brunch and Lando had promised you’d come back to them. They were cute little stores, each one specializing in certain things. You took your time in each one, feeling the silky material of some of the dresses, admiring the leather detailing on the handbags, and gawking at the dazzling jewelry in the displays. Everything was quite luxurious and your eyes couldn’t help but linger on a certain bag and bracelet, but the price tags were all you had to see to know they weren’t coming home with you.
Lando had been watching you the whole time, fully prepared to be your bag boy and was ready to pull out his wallet whenever he’d see you pick something up. But much to his disappointment, all you did was look and after going through all the stores you left empty handed. “You didn’t see anything you wanted?” Lando asks as you continue down the street.
You simply shrug your shoulders at him. “Nothing that I couldn’t live without.” He doesn’t press the matter anymore, fully knowing that he’d be coming back sometime this week to get you that bag and bracelet that you kept circling back to.
The streets are charming and bright. It’s a place that you can’t help but feel alive in, especially as the summer sun beats down on you, but the light breeze coming in off the sea makes it bearable. Your buzz was long gone, but Lando still insisted that you link your arm with his as you stroll down the streets– just in case. You don’t oblige to his request, enjoying the feeling of holding onto his solid bicep as the sound of him slightly humming the song that was playing at brunch fills your ears.
A sense of peacefulness washes over you and it’s at this moment that you don’t feel like you’re on the arm of the famous Formula 1 driver Lando Norris. He doesn’t have a million cameras on him or people flocking to him for an autograph. It’s just you and your best friend Lando– the boy who was gagging when you teased the idea of ordering fish at dinner last night or who you laid in bed with this morning, watching dumb Tiktoks until you were both in tears laughing. It was nice for once, to just have Lando.
You’re just about ready to circle back to the villa when you hear a woman shouting in Italian from down the street. You’re not anywhere near fluent, but you recognize some basic words and what you’ve heard has you pulling Lando towards the voice.
Fior! Bei Fiori!
At the end of the street there stood the lady, who had a cart of the most vibrant fresh flowers. When she spotted the two of you approaching, a smile painted itself across her face. “I think your pretty girl deserves some flowers, don’t you?”
The corners of your mouth turn upwards and a smile is painted across your face. You can feel your cheeks getting warm at her statement, at the implication that you were Lando’s, but it’s his response that makes them comparable to the roses found on the cart.
Lando feels his chest get tight over the lady assuming the two of you were together. It’s nothing new, for people to assume that he’s with a girl just because he’s seen with one. Though for some reason when someone says it about you, it gets a reaction out of him. He’s grinning as he looks at you and then back to the sweet old lady. “You’re right, my pretty girl does deserve some flowers.”
The butterflies that erupted in your stomach at his words were embarrassing and not the appropriate reaction to be having over your best friend, but his comment wasn’t very platonic either. You’re blushing and grinning, probably very easily comparable to a school girl at the moment. He’s got a smug look on his face as he hands you of course the biggest bouquet the lady had. It’s truly a beautiful bouquet and it smells divine, it had anything you could have gotten at the shops beaten by a mile.
As you head back towards the villa you can’t wipe the smile off your face and you can’t stop thinking about my pretty girl. The words shamelessly repeating over and over again in your head. “So you think I’m pretty huh?” You tease.
Now Lando’s the one to blush and he hopes you just think it’s just from the heat and sun as you look at him. “Of course I do. I’d have to be blind to not think so.” He’s sincere with his words, he truly thinks you’re one of the most breathtaking women he’s ever met– intellectually and physically.
You lean your head on his arm, the same one you’ve still wrapped yourself around. “You sure know how to swoon 'em.”
“You’re my best friend. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
And for the first time, for both of you, it feels weird and almost stings to hear the word best friend said out loud. Because deep down you know you’re way more than that.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
Although you weren’t that much of a party girl you didn’t mind going out every once in a while. So when Lando suggested going out to one of the bars tonight it didn’t seem like a bad idea. You’d done your fair share of relaxing and to you that meant a night out deserved to be had.
With a final spritz of your perfume you’re ready to go and as you looked in the mirror one last time you couldn’t help but think damn, I look good. You found Lando waiting for you in the foyer, his head lifting up from his phone at the sound of your heels clicking down the stairs. “Might want to close your mouth before you attract flies Lan.” He hadn’t even realized he was in that much of a trance until you said something, he could feel his cheeks getting warm at getting caught.
You hook your arm with his as he leads you out the front door. “Sorry, you just look unreal tonight.”
“Well you don’t look too bad yourself.” He’d chosen his tried and true white button up, leaving the first few buttons undone, which revealed even more of his gorgeous tanned skin. How someone could make something as simple as a white button up shirt look so good was beyond you, but it was clearly something he was skilled at.
The bar you end up at is relatively small and you realize it must be the most popular one with how packed it is. It’s on the coast and there’s a gorgeous outdoor area that you are immediately drawn to, mainly because there’s slightly less people out here. It’s still a good time though and the people are somehow even more rowdy out here and you wonder if it’s the fresh air.
You’ve danced, drank, laughed, talked, everything you could think of on a night out. It's been nice, especially doing it all with Lando, who somehow through the course of the night has undone more buttons on his shirt and you think he might as well just undo them all. It’s clearly getting late from how the crowd is slowly starting to thin out, but you two are still having a ball, and you figure you’ll stay till they kick you out.
Lando’s gone inside to get you both another drink, which he easily could have gotten from the bartender out here, but he claimed that the guy didn’t know what he was doing. While you wait you venture off to a far corner of the patio that’s somewhat empty. There’s a couple people sitting in chairs sharing a cigarette, but other than that you’re alone. Even in the dark the view is amazing and as you lean on the railing a nice breeze comes in off the water. It’s relaxing and nice, especially when you’re that sticky kind of sweaty and a little more drunk than you realize.
“Absolutely beautiful.” You jump at the unfamiliar, yet familiar voice. It had been a minute since you’d heard another British accent besides Lando’s. When you turn around to put a face to the voice you aren’t expecting to see such a gorgeous man standing there. He’s really the whole package– stunning blue eyes, pretty smile, fluffy light brown hair, nice facial hair.
“Uh- yeah it is.” You assumed he was talking about the view.
“Can I join you?”
He’s cute and you wouldn’t mind some company, so you tell him yes.
“Where’d your boyfriend run off to?” He asks as he nurses his Corona.
“He’s not my boyfriend, but I’m not wrong in assuming you know who he is, right?” This guy is in his twenties and British, if he didn’t know who Lando was then he had to be living under a rock.
He takes a swig of his beer before responding. “I know who he is.”
You scoff, there was a big possibility that he was using you to get to meet Lando, it was something you’d dealt with many times before. Guys showing interest in you only in hopes of becoming Lando’s friend or even worse girls who would befriend you only to try and get with Lando. You weren’t some step on the ladder that led to Lando, you were your own person with feelings and a life, who deserved to have people like you for you, not who you knew.
Maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s the fact that you’re done being led on by people, but either way you confront the guy about it. “Are you using me to get to him?”
You hear him laugh a little and it lights a fire in you, but his words extinguish it before it gets out of control. “I was brave enough to come over here and willingly flirt with you before I even knew if he was your boyfriend or not. If I was trying to use you to get to him, I don’t think that would be a good plan. Which now that I know you’re not his girlfriend, kinda makes me think he’s an idiot. How could he have a girl like you in his life and not be madly in love with you?”
Your brain is fuzzy as you’re trying to process what he’s said. “Sorry wait- you were flirting with me?”
He’s got a cheeky grin on his face and he lets out a chuckle at your cluelessness. “When I said ‘absolutely beautiful’ I wasn’t talking about the view.”
“Oh.” You’d thought it was kind of weird for him to just randomly say that about the view, but for it to be aimed towards you was the last thing you had thought of. “Well, flirt all you want then.”
Not only did this place have one bartender that was incompetent, it seemed like all of them were. Lando had waited for what seemed like ages for a beer and a vodka cranberry. It wasn’t even that busy at the bar for it to be taking so long and at one point he contemplated just going behind the bar and doing it himself. By the time he finally got them he was surprised you hadn’t come looking for him, but when he made his way out onto the patio he saw exactly why you hadn’t.
Over in the corner Lando sees you doubled over laughing with some guy as he watches from afar. His grip on the glasses gets tighter as he sees you place your hand on the guy's arm. The tightness in his chest increases the longer he stands here and watches. It bothers him more than he cares to admit– to see you with some random guy. To hear that laugh of yours and him not being the source of it is driving him crazy. But what really sends him over the edge is when the guy tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear and without a second thought he’s storming over there.
Lando tries to play it cool as he approaches and he’s glad he’s got these drinks to use as an excuse. Your mid conversation when Lando interrupts, but he doesn’t care one bit. “Here’s your drink.” He says as he pushes the slightly watered down glass towards you.
“Oh thanks Lan.” You flash him a smile, but his face is emotionless and the fun light hearted atmosphere has suddenly turned awkward. For some reason you feel like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t have. “Um, Lando this is-” You remember at that moment that you hadn’t even asked the guy his name, which to you makes this even more awkward.
“Harry.”
“Right. Lando, this is Harry.” You motion between the two men. “Harry, this is Lando.”
Harry extends a hand out to Lando and they very awkwardly shake hands. “Nice to meet you mate.”
Lando only nods his head at him before turning his focus back to you. “I think we should get going, they are gonna close soon.”
You think he’s joking, considering he’d waited all that time to get these drinks, and now he suddenly wants to leave. “I just got my drink, can we at least stay until I finish it?” It also feels rude to just abruptly leave in the middle of the conversation that you were enjoying with Harry. But Lando doesn’t know how to hide his emotions very well and by the look on his face you know he’s being serious.
“Well you can stay, but I’m leaving.” He knows he shouldn’t leave you alone with some guy you just met, but god he doesn’t think he can stand here and watch you flirt with him anymore than he already has. So, without hearing your response he starts making his way towards the exit.
A regretful look washes across your face as you look at Harry. “That was so rude of him, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s up with him, he never acts like that.” You take a big swig of your drink, fully knowing dealing with Lando is gonna be a pain. “It was really nice talking to you, but I better go hunt him down.”
He shrugs, clearly not as upset over this whole situation as Lando or you are. “No biggie, I’m sure we’ll see each other around. It’s a small place.” You bid him goodbye, but you don’t get very far before he’s hollering. “Can I at least get your Instagram?” Which has you coming back and quickly exchanging usernames before you're off again to find Lando.
You run into him in the bar and it looks like he was coming back out towards the patio. A look of relief washes over him when he sees you and he’s leading you away from the loud music and out the front exit before either of you can say anything. Only once the bass of the music is a faint sound in the distance does Lando speak up. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone with that guy. I was coming back in when you found me.”
“I appreciate you looking out for me, but you were kinda rude to him for no reason.”
Guess you were diving in head first with this.
Lando stops walking and turns to face you, a confused look on his face. “I wasn’t being rude.”
“Yes you were. We were having a conversation and you just butted in and demanded we leave. Not to mention you wouldn’t even speak to him. He was nice, you would have liked him if you gave him the time of day.”
“You barely know the guy, you talked to him for what ten-fifteen minutes? I just didn’t have a good feeling about him.”
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his dumb excuse. He shook the guy's hand and didn’t get a good feeling about him? Bullshit. “Well if you didn’t have a good feeling about him then why’d you leave me with him?” He’d started to walk again, but stopped dead in his tracks at your words, spinning on his heel to face you once again.
“I already told you I regretted leaving you. I just had to get out of there for a second.”
“Why?” You were being adamant, your arms crossed across your chest as you waited for his answer.
He knew exactly why, but he couldn’t tell you that, he hadn’t even fully accepted it himself. “I don’t know Y/N.”
You’re getting frustrated with him and these damn heels that you chose to wear are not making your mood any better. “There’s a reason for everything, Lando. How would you like it if I acted like you did tonight with a girl you were talking to? You’d be livid.”
He completely ignores your accusation and turns the conversation in another direction. It had been itching at him to know if you were just being nice or if you were actually interested in the guy, so he plucked up the courage to ask. “So you were flirting with him?”
The look on your face is one of pure confusion, but your tone is nothing but shitty. “I’m not sure how you jumped to that conclusion from what I said or why it’s really any of your concern, but yeah it was just some harmless flirting. I’m sorry for having a little fun!” You were thankful that it was late enough for the street to be relatively empty, the last thing that needed to happen was pictures or a video getting out of you two arguing. You were sure there were already rumors about you two being on vacation together, you could only imagine how this would be misconstrued.
Hearing that his best friend was potentially interested in someone else had his head spinning and he could no longer blame his reactions on the alcohol. He couldn’t lie to himself anymore, ignore the way his heart raced when he looked at you. Or how he loved hearing that old lady call you his girl the other day.
It had been building up– festering almost this whole week and maybe subconsciously he wanted to go on this trip with you to see if there was some truth to what everyone had teased him about. He just didn’t think it would actually be true. Or that at two in the morning on a dimly lit street in Italy, during an argument, he would finally accept that he was in love with you.
But even with him realizing he’s in love with you, that doesn’t stop him from being an absolute idiot. “He was probably just using you to get to me.” Lando immediately regrets what he said as soon as it comes out of his mouth. He knows that's a sore subject for you and the look of hurt on your face makes his stomach churn.
“Now you’re just being mean.” You’re sure it’s a mixture of things that are contributing to the salty tears welling up in your eyes at the moment, but it’s Lando’s comment that actually makes them fall. You’re storming off before he can say anything, wishing you would have just stayed at the bar with Harry.
Lando knows he’s an idiot, but he also knows he’s the one who lit the match, which means he’s gotta be the one to put it out. “Y/N come on. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have said that.” He catches up with you rather quickly, your heels slowing you down.
“Just leave me be Lando.”
“Y/N. Stop walking for just a minute.” He’s grabbing at your arm, trying to halt your movement.
You stop and face him and for what it’s worth he does look sorry, but that doesn’t change how you feel. “What? You want to poke fun at me some more?”
“No I-”
“You know I was just having a little harmless fun with that guy, like you said I talked to him for what? Fifteen minutes? Nothing was going to come out of it. But is it really that far-fetched of an idea for a guy to actually be interested in me just for me? Am I that undesirable and unlovable for it to seem like a reality? Or was he like everyone else who’s used me and threw me away as soon as they got their five minutes of the almighty Lando Norris experience?”
The tears that slide down your cheeks are a mixture of anger and embarrassment and maybe you were being a little dramatic. Perhaps the multiple drinks you’d consumed weren’t helping either, but when the person you care about the most says something like that, something you’d confided in him about, it hurts.
Lando feels his heart break to hear you talk about yourself like that. All he wants to do is to scream out that you’re not undesirable or unlovable. He’s wanted you and loved you for some time now, the moment it started he’s not sure, but he knows it didn’t happen overnight. It’s always been there– he was just too blind to see it.
He’s not entirely sure on how to make this right, he knows he was an ass, but he also knows he can’t take back what’s been said. The worst part is that he knows exactly how you feel and somehow he still thought that was a good thing to throw in your face– all because he was jealous. He could deal with people trying to use him, he’d developed a sixth sense for them and never let it get too far, but you were too kind. Your big heart and trusting of others had gotten you burned one too many times and it hurt Lando even more to know that all that had happened because of him.
“I should have never said that to you. I know first hand how it feels to have people use me and the only reason you’ve had to deal with that is because of me. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Your sniffles fill the night air as you try to calm yourself down. While people used you to get to Lando, at least they didn’t want to be your friend to leech off your fame. Use you for your money and generosity, expecting paddock passes and some lavish lifestyle. People saw Lando as an object rather than a person more times than not. While your feelings were valid and Lando was still an ass for saying that, you realized to be in his shoes was worse. So, you wipe away your tears and accept his apology indirectly. “Think we’ve only got each other at this point.”
His voice is soft as he approaches you, his hand reaching up to brush a stray piece of hair out of your face. “Don’t think I need anyone else but you.”
The tender moment has you turning to putty in his hands– the argument pushed to the back of your mind. His hand moves to cup your face and his tumb brushes gently across your cheek. You feel like time has frozen in this moment and for a split second you swear he looks at your lips, like he’s going to kiss you. The fact that this is your best friend is no concern to you at the moment. Then the moment between you two is ruined just as fast as it began, the sound of a very loud and drunk group of people leaving the bar up the street brings you both back to reality.
You back away from each other slowly, like you weren’t sure exactly what had just almost happened. You’d already resorted to blaming it on both of your emotions still running wild and the alcohol still coursing through your veins. The group of people are getting closer, their obnoxious singing getting louder as each second passes. They might not even know who Lando is, but you aren’t in the mood to wait around and find out, the last thing you want to deal with right now is drunk fans. “We’ve had too much to drink, my head and feet hurt. Let’s go home.” You grumble as you begin the trek home once again, your feet aching more and more with each step.
Lando stops for a moment and kicks off his shoes, he couldn’t let you walk in pain the whole way home. Especially after the pain he had caused moments ago. “Here put these on, your feet are killing you.” He hands you the white sneakers before squatting down in front of you to help you get your heels off.
Your feet already thank you as you slip on the oversized shoes that clomp on the stone street. And like a magnet you find yourself wrapping your arm around his as you walk down the street. You’re sure you two are a sight–you in shoes that are way too big and Lando only in socks as he holds your heels for you.
“You know you’re still an ass.” You tell him as you lean your head on his shoulder.
“I know.”
“You know you aren’t unloveable.” He hopes you know he’s being sincere, your words still replaying in his mind as you walk.
“I know.”
By the time you make it back to the villa you’re both exhausted. The alcohol, the argument, that moment between you two, the walk home– you were sure tomorrow morning would be a rough one. There aren’t many words spoken as you get ready for bed and as you slide under the covers next to Lando you can’t shake something from your mind from tonight, and it wasn’t the argument.
It was the fact that during the whole time you were chatting with Harry, you couldn’t help but compare him to Lando. There wasn’t the same sparkle in his eye like Lando, his smile wasn’t the same, his laugh. It seemed like everything that you noticed about this guy came second best to Lando. Sure you were having fun and he was nice, but not once had the thought of Lando slipped your mind. And even right now, with Lando next to you, you’re still somehow thinking about him.
It didn’t take long for Lando to fall asleep and you were on the verge of it when your phone went off on the nightstand. Usually, you would just ignore it, but something in you told you to see what it was.
harryinsta is now following you
You then see that he had sent you a DM and you’re expecting it to be about meeting up some time, which you were going to politely decline, but it’s quite the opposite.
harryintsa: i must have been mistaken earlier. lando's not an idiot.
yourinsta: huh?
harryinsta: he’s in love with you lol
Your heart nearly beats out of your chest as you read the message over and over again. Lando wasn’t in love with you, was he? Sure you’d heard it from just about everyone in your life that you two were in love with each other, but you always thought it was silly. You guys were just best friends is what you would always say, but to hear it come from a literal stranger was different.
You couldn’t lie that you hadn’t recently had your moments of perhaps thinking that he did, though you’d always talk yourself out of the idea. Although, if he was in love with you that may explain his behavior tonight. Or maybe it was just the alcohol like you’d originally thought. Then the tender moment you two shared entered your mind and suddenly the gears in your head are working overtime.
You locked your phone and sat it back down on the nightstand. Just from a simple DM you’d gone from being dead tired to now being wide awake– staring at the ceiling. You’re not sure how much time had passed as you laid there over analyzing every interaction with Lando. You were struggling enough trying to figure out the things you had recently felt about Lando, let alone the possibility that he was in love with you. All you knew for sure was that things weren’t the same between you two, you’d felt a shift when you were with him in Monaco before the Belgium GP. It had only amplified during this trip and you had a feeling that by the end of it things would be different.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
Two days later you’re sunbathing on a comfy lounger on the beach, while Lando’s out in the water doing god knows what. You’d given up on watching him a while ago, deciding instead to be productive and try to catch up to Lando’s tan level. Which, after laying here for some time now, it seemed impossible. That boy could be in the sun for a day and have a glowing tan– you not so much.
Moments later you think a cloud has passed in front of the sun, but when you feel cool water droplets on your hot skin you peek open one eye to find a wet and grinning Lando standing over you. “Hi.”
“Hi.” You greet him back as you sit up, your smile matching his. “Did you have fun out there?”
“I had a lot of fun and the water felt amazing. You should have got in.”
“I will later.” You notice he’s got one of his hands behind his back like he’s hiding something. “Lan, what have you got?” He tries to play dumb for a moment, trying to wind you up, but he eventually caves and pulls a plastic pail from behind his back. “Please don’t tell me you stole that from a kid.” Your half joking and half being serious, because where the hell did he get that from?
“I did not steal it from a kid– I borrowed it.” The smile on his face never falls as he continues to speak. “They had a bunch of them. I don't think they’ll miss it. Plus I needed something to put your present in.”
You cock an eyebrow at him, curiosity written all over your face. “My present?”
He’s smiling so hard as he sits down at the end of the lounger that you think this must be the best present in the world. Seconds later the pail is turned upside down and out falls the prettiest seashells. Your heart swells when you realize all that time he had spent out in the water he was looking for shells– for you. There’s a light pink one that catches your eye and Lando notices when you reach for it.
“Knew you’d like that one.”
Of course he knew that, sometimes you think he knows you better than you know yourself. “Can’t believe you spent all that time finding them.”
He shrugs like it’s an everyday thing. “I knew it would make you happy, which meant I enjoyed doing it. Really only took me so long because I wanted them all to be perfect for you.”
The sun beating down on you feels cold with how hard you’re blushing. “You’re my favorite person, you know that?”
Lando starts to get shy when you get sappy, like he hadn’t just said the sweetest thing a second ago. He’s smiling, but focuses on carefully putting the shells back into the pail. “You’re my favorite person too.”
A while later you decide to open up the umbrella between the two loungers. You had chosen to give up on the tanning lifestyle and instead dive into a new book. While Lando was fast asleep on the lounger next to you, apparently all that hunting for shells had worn him out.
You’d noticed out of the corner of your eye awhile ago that a little boy kept glancing over in your direction, specifically at Lando. You knew he had to have been a fan or he was the kid Lando stole the pail from. The nervous glances back and forth tell you that thankfully he’s a fan and you think it’s the cutest thing. You’re in the middle of considering waking Lando up so the boy could come over when you hear a groan that is undoubtedly Lando awaking from his slumber.
“What are you looking at?” He asks as he rubs his eyes.
You nod your head in the direction of the boy who’s just seen that Lando is awake and is practically bouncing with glee. “Think you may have a fan.”
A big grin spreads across Lando’s face as he sees the little boy. Lando loved meeting all his fans, but meeting the kids was his favorite. He thinks a big part of the reason he always makes sure to find time for the younger fans was because he was that kid once. Before he was ever F1 driver Lando Norris, he was just a kid who finally got the chance to meet their idol and he knows that picture or an autograph means the world to them
Lando motions for the boy to come over and he’s instantly tugging on his Mom’s shirt to get her to come with him. She gives you guys a questioning look and when Lando motions again they both come over.
The little boy’s Italian accent is the cutest thing ever as he greets you two and you can tell just how much it means to him to be talking to Lando.
“What’s your name?” Lando asks as he signs a beach towel of all things.
“Luca and I’m seven!”
“Seven is a great age. You know I started karting when I was seven!”
Luca’s eyes get as wide as saucers as he glances back at his Mom, who is already shutting down any talk of Luca karting. “I told you possibly next year. You’re still my little baby. I don't want you getting hurt!”
Lando gives the Mom an apologetic look. “How about a picture?” Which easily takes Luca’s attention away from karting, as he’s already at Lando’s side with a big smile on his face before his Mom has her phone out.
They take a couple pictures and high fives are exchanged throughout their interaction. The whole thing is very sweet and you can’t help but look on in adoration, fully knowing that Lando would make a great Father one day.
You see that Luca keeps looking over at you and then back to Lando, but you don’t pay that much mind to it. You figured he was just nervous or something, but what comes out of his mouth next takes you by surprise.
“Your girlfriend is very pretty.”
You feel your heart skip a beat and you glance over at Lando to see what his reaction is. You prepare yourself for the worst, but in true Lando fashion he’s all smiles. In fact he’s sporting that full face smile of his and it makes you feel funny.
“Thank you buddy, I think so too.” He looks over at you with nothing but love in his eyes and you’re immediately looking away like some shy school girl.
Thankfully, the Mom comes to your aid and quickly changes the subject. “Ok Luca, you’ve bothered them enough. We should get back to our spot. Thank them for their time.”
His cute little voice mutters out grazie as he gives you a small wave goodbye.
“It was very nice to meet you, Luca.” Lando bids him farewell and you both wave back at the little boy.
As soon as they’re gone you’re immediately shoving your face back into your book, you don’t even want to talk about what had just happened. It was nothing really to be so worked up over, it was just a little kid who saw two people together and assumed they were together. It happens all the time. But it is a big deal when you find yourself liking being referred to as Lando’s girlfriend. It doesn’t help when neither of you deny it and correct the person. Lando likes to play into it and you love it too much to say anything.
Ever since getting that DM the other night your mind had been in a whirlwind over how Lando felt about you and how you felt about him. Hell you can’t even look at him right now, you’re so in your head that you’ve been staring at the same page for the last five minutes. You just wished the book you were reading could tell you how to come to terms with the fact that you’re in love with your best friend.
It was something you’d realized the other night while you were awake overthinking everything. Those feelings had always been there, but you had just pushed them aside, ignoring every little butterfly or rapid heartbeat. When they actually turned into romantic feelings you have no clue because as far as you knew, you and Lando had always been like this.
You two just dove in head first into the co-dependent friendship that was more like a relationship lifestyle. All those times you’d gone to his parents house for family dinners and holidays, both of you attached at the hip. How he wanted to ask you to move to Monaco with him and then almost didn’t even move because he said he’d miss you too much. The group vacations that always ended up with you two going off and doing your own thing. The texts from him every Wednesday before a race asking if he needed to get you a paddock pass and a flight. This trip in particular– sleeping in the same bed when you don’t have to, the cuddling, the getting mistaken for a couple three times so far, the fact that it was just you two alone on the trip.
It was all there the whole time and you wondered how you could have been so blind to not realize it sooner. You were in love with him. You loved his pretty eyes and curls and the way his real laugh only seemed to come out around you. You loved his big heart and his caring nature and sometimes you thought he was too nice to be a Formula 1 driver.
You loved everything about him and truth be told it made your stomach hurt from how much you loved him. You wanted to actually be his and be able to kiss those pink lips that you sometimes found yourself staring at. When people said you were his girlfriend you wanted it to actually be true and not have it be Lando just playing along. You were so down bad that you prayed that Harry was right and that Lando was actually in love with you too.
While you were freaking out, so was Lando. When you immediately went back to reading your book and not speaking a word, he figured he had weirded you out by basically implying that you were his girlfriend. He just figured it was easier to go along with what the kid thought than explain that you weren’t his girlfriend, but god does he wish you were. He didn’t know what to say to try and test the waters because he knew whatever he would say would come out awkward and he didn’t want to make things worse. So, once again it’s not talked about and you two pretend that it didn’t happen when you finally speak again.
─── ༺❀༻ ───
It’s the last day of the trip and you’re dreading going back to reality and away from this little slice of heaven. The only thing you have to look forward to is the supposed fancy dinner that Lando had planned for tonight, which was what you were currently getting ready for. Music plays through your phone and you softly sing along as you do your makeup. When you look up after digging in your makeup bag you spot Lando in the mirror, leaning against the door frame behind you. Your eyes lower and you see that he’s holding two gift bags.
"Those better be for your Mom.” You state as you put the finishing touches on your makeup.
“I think we both know they aren’t.” He sees you roll your eyes in the mirror and it only makes him want to spoil you more. “It’s our last day, I think you deserve a parting gift.”
You turn to face him as he makes his way over to you. “I haven’t gotten you a single thing this whole time. It makes me feel bad.”
Lando only shakes his head at you. “You being here with me is the best gift you could have ever gotten me. I truly don’t need anything else.” He hands you the bags. “Now open them please.”
A small smile finds its way onto your face as you take the bags from him. You decide to open the bigger bag first and once you pull out the tissue paper you know exactly what it is. It’s still in its dust bag, but you see the branding and your jaw is dropping before you even see the actual thing. “You did not get me this bag Lando!” You exclaim as you remove the dust bag and see that it’s the same bag you were eyeing at the store the other day.
He shrugs like it’s no big deal. “Saw you eyeing it and knew I had to get it for you and before you say anything else open the other present.”
You set the handbag down and grab the smaller gift trying to figure out what else he could have possibly gotten you. When you open it and see the bracelet you were also looking at the other day you’re at a loss for words. “Lando Norris!” You could slap him, hug him, kiss him, and yell at him all at once. He’d dropped probably close to six grand on these two gifts and your head is spinning at the thought of it.
“Don’t even say anything about the price. I know you’re thinking it, but I wouldn’t have bought you them if I couldn’t afford it. I wanted you to have them, you deserve nice things.” You deserved a lot more than a handbag and a bracelet, but what he thought you deserved money couldn’t buy.
You know there's no use in fighting him on it, but you still feel bad that he just spends all this money on you. He takes the bracelet from the box and fastens it around your wrist, the diamonds glittering in the light as you move it around. It’s truly stunning and the handbag will go great with your outfit tonight. As soon as you two make eye contact again you’re pulling him into a bone crushing hug and you two stay like that for probably longer than necessary. “Thank you a million times Lan. I love them both so much.”
It’s time to leave for dinner shortly after that and when you arrive at the restaurant the host guides you back to a secluded corner. It’s a very romantic ambiance and you can’t help but feel like you’re on a date, which wouldn’t be a horrible thing. Moments later a waiter comes over with a bottle of champagne and two glasses. “It’s on the house– for the special couple.”
There it is again and it seems like with each time it happens it makes your heart race even more. Lando shifts in his seat and you focus on the rising bubbles in the glasses as the waiter pours the champagne. Lando tells him thank you and your attention moves to the menu.
“What are you thinking about getting?” You ask, ignoring the obvious.
“Probably the steak.” He grabs the flute of champagne and takes a drink. “What was that? The fourth time now?”
You know exactly what he’s talking about, but you’re surprised he’s decided to talk about it. “Yeah it was.” You set the menu down and grab the other flute. “Think I’ll get the steak too.”
Dinner actually turns out to be an amazing time. The food is decadent and Lando and you have good conversations that don’t revolve around you two being mistaken for a couple or being in love with each other. When the waiter brings the bill you’re quite sad because that just means this trip is that much closer to being over.
You take your time heading back to the villa, trying to savor every last moment you’ve got here. The sun was low in the sky by the time you get back and you tell Lando just how you want to spend your final evening in Italy. You hurry and change into comfier clothes and take off all your makeup before heading to the spot with the best view out back. Lando makes his way out there not too long after you, but he’s got one more surprise for you.
“Don’t think the evening or this trip would be complete without this now would it?” He pulls a bottle of pink moscato from behind his back along with two wine glasses.
He knew you too well, but it was something you loved dearly about him. “You’re a man after my heart Norris.”
He hands you a glass as he sits down next to you, the sun just beginning to set on the horizon. “I try.”
There’s a comfortable silence between you two for a while and the only sound to be heard is from the waves below. It feels like paradise sitting here with this amazing view and the guy you love next to you. It’s probably boring to the majority of people, but this was everything you could ask for and more and the perfect way to end this amazing trip. You lean in closer to Lando, your head resting on his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you. A content sigh escapes past your lips as his thumb starts to draw mindless circles on your arm.
“Thank you again for everything. This trip was amazing and I’m glad we got to go together– just you and me.”
“I’m glad too. It was probably the best summer break trip I’ve had. Don’t think Ibiza will be seeing me for a while.”
You’re not even looking at him, but you can sense the smile on his face and you can’t help but laugh at his lie. “Yeah, and I don’t like pink moscato.”
“Alright so Ibiza will inevitably see me, but not as much as Italy.” He pauses for a moment, glancing down at you still resting on his shoulder, his heart swelling just by looking at you. “I think this may be our place now, just for the two of us.” His voice is soft when he says it, like he’s not sure if he wanted to say it outloud.
You lift your head up and are met with his piercing blue eyes staring back at you. He looked radiant as golden hour cascades over him and it’s like you’re in a trance as you look at him. You take in every last bit of him, all the little details about him that you’ve memorized over the years. The slight stubble on his face from not shaving for a couple days, the little moles, his long and somehow always curled eyelashes, those pink lips of his. He’s everything you could have ever dreamed of and more. You’ve had him at fingertip length for so long now and all you want to do is reach out for him, take what you want and never let go.
Lando feels his breath catch in his throat as you two make eye contact. You’d never looked more beautiful than in this moment and he doesn’t know how much longer he can take without you actually being his. You were the love of his life, his best friend, and everything he’s ever wanted. It may have taken him a long time to realize it, but he’s never felt like this about anyone before. You know each other like the back of your hands and it only makes sense that you’d be the one for him.
And it’s in this moment that it clicks for you two that it’s now or never. You’re never going to have a perfect moment like this again. It feels right, like the universe wants this moment to happen and if you let it go to waste you may never get the chance again. Lando takes his free hand and gently cups your face, his thumb ever so softly rubbing across your cheek. You’re practically putty in his hands and you feel like your heart is gonna beat out of your chest. You want to scream out to him that you love him, that you want to be his, but you can barely get your brain to communicate with your mouth.
“Lan-”
That’s all you can get out before Lando’s leaning in and his lips are on yours. He tastes like the sugary sweet wine and his lips are soft as they move in sync with yours. Kissing him is even better than you’d imagined and as your hand reaches up to his neck you deepen the kiss. It feels like you two had kissed a thousand times before and as he pulls away you’re already left wanting more.
Your foreheads rest against each other, both of you breathless and a little light headed from that singular kiss. When you both actually internalize what’s just happened you’re both grinning, that then turns into laughing and it’s like music to both of your ears to hear each other laugh.
“I think that was a long time coming.” You state as you finally lean back onto the couch.
Lando reaches out for your hand, intertwining his with yours. “When did you realize?”
“That night when we got into that argument, which looking back now, you were totally jealous.”
“I was not jealous!” He tries to be serious, but the knowing look on your face has him cracking. “Ok I was jealous.”
“When did you realize?” You question.
“That same night. I couldn’t understand why you flirting with that guy bothered me so much. Well I guess now we know.”
“Yeah cause you’re in loooveee with me.” You’re laughing as you speak, but he shuts you up with another kiss and leaves you pouting when he pulls away.
“Only kissed you twice and you’re already pouting when I pull away? I think you’re in loooveee with me.”
You lean back in, capturing his lips in yet another kiss and you’re like teenagers who’ve gotten into their first relationship.
Lando sighs when you stop kissing him, he can’t believe he could have had this sooner if he would have just opened his eyes. “You think you could get another week off from work?”
You’d do anything to get another week in a paradise with him, but you know it’s not possible. “Hmm, why don’t you just spend a week in London with me?”
“Well you haven’t even told them that you now have a famous F1 driver boyfriend. Who if they didn’t know already is very needy and needs to see his girlfriend.” He teases.
“Well you forgot to add that you’re my hot and famous F1 driver boyfriend.” You counter back.
You’re both grinning like fools at each other and as you curl up into his side and take in the last sunset you’ll see in the place that now holds such a special place in both of your hearts, you’re glad you let him convince you to come on this trip.
As the sun finally sets over the water you actually say those three little words.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
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smutsonian · 4 years ago
Note
Mafia bucky with size kink, belly bulge, choking with vibration arm, sub space, daddy kink, creampie kink and squirting, breeding kink, maybe exhibitionism with Steve. This could lead to a part 2 as a 3 way with double vaginal penetration, no anal
that smile on her face
bucky barnes x reader
summary: mafia!bucky x reader ft. mafia!boss!steve and it’s basically just p0rn with a little bit of plot i guess.
warnings: smut, (whatevers written in the ask), violence, rumlow, not proofread, idk please tell me if I missed something.
word count: 3.1k
a/n: why was it so hard to write this fic vjhafvu im rusty with writing soz
masterlist
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It was becoming too much for you. The palpable tension between the two brooding men and the looming figures of terrifying men on each side that serves as guards for both sides didn’t bring you any comfort and the fact that your boyfriend is a few feet away from you right now isn’t giving you any reassurance that this situation is under control.
 Steve, your boyfriend’s best friend, stands face to face with an unknown man wearing an eerie smile on his face but his aura is producing anything but a positive vibe while your boyfriend stands beside Steve, glaring at the strange man. You thought you remembered someone calling him Rumlow.
 You know about your boyfriend’s line of work but you never really got to witness his job with your own eyes. Life with Bucky has always been laughs and giggles, passion and love behind closed doors so you never really thought about the dangers that may come with his job. You thought you could continue to live happily and carefree with him until now. 
When you saw Rumlow turning his attention to Bucky’s louring face and smirking at the emotion he’s able to get from your boyfriend made your stomach turn. You saw Rumlow’s hand rise from his side and time seemed to stop for you when you saw a gun pointed in your boyfriend’s direction. You saw your Bucky’s jaw clenching and you couldn’t help the small whimper escaping your lips when Rumlow turns the safety off with a deafening click.
 Bucky’s eyes subtly searched your face but you weren’t looking at him. Your eyes were begging Rumlow to drop his gun and let your boyfriend be but the moment Rumlow turns to look at you, your stomach begins to feel more horrible than it already is. But you would do everything for your Bucky. You had to try.
 “P-Please don’t…” You stutter, glancing at the gun pointing towards your Bucky then looking back up at Rumlow. 
 He mockingly juts his bottom lip out, pouting at you before tilting his head to the side. “No?” He asks.
 You could only nod, ignoring Bucky who was trying his best to get your attention, for sure trying to make you stop talking to Rumlow.
 “This your girl, Barnes?” Rumlow asks, scanning your form but nobody answers him.
 Rumlow chuckles before putting the gun down, giving you a sense of relief before your breath hitches when the gun is suddenly pointed in your direction. 
 “Should I just shoot you then, little girl?” 
 Bucky’s form stiffens, as well as Steve’s and his guards, ready for an order to attack when Rumlow speaks up again.
 “Are you willing to risk your life for this motherfucker?” 
 You didn’t know if it was your nerves making you dizzy but everything went by in a flash but in slow motion at the same time. You saw Bucky side-stepping quickly towards you, his metal arm raising as if to shield you both. A bullet makes contact with his metal arm before bouncing off of it and you stare at his arm in awe before looking at him with crazed eyes. He scans you for a quick second before he rushes you both out of the place, and onto a car before caressing your face with both of his hands. The sounds of guns being fired filling your ears.
 “You shouldn’t have done that, baby girl.” His words are dark and it would’ve scared you if you didn’t know him. If he wasn’t giggling with you about a silly movie yesterday, you would’ve been frightened of him.
 When you don't answer, he tightens his grip on your face, forcing you to focus on him instead of the continuous gunfire.
 “Y-You’re arm… How did you know it would save us?” You stared at his face while your hand absentmindedly wrapped over his metal hand, caressing it gently.
 His eyes flicker to your hand on his metal ones before looking back at you with an earnest look. “I didn’t. I just know that I had to protect you.” He says, chest heaving as he finally let himself show his emotions. Something that he only does with you.
 “Y-you… You could’ve died, Bucky…” 
 “I will do anything to protect you, doll.” He presses a kiss on your forehead before the driver’s door opens and Steve crawls in, breathing heavily.
 “We gotta fucking go,” was the only thing he says before stepping on the gas.
 You did your best to ignore the blood splattered on his face and the white shirt under his black suit.
 You lay your head on Bucky’s shoulder as he hugs you extra close to him, fearing that you might slip away from him and you bask in the closeness and warmth of his body. Your brain starts to fog up, and the only words running inside it are the words your Bucky said. You snuggle closer to him, humming unknowingly in satisfaction.
 ‘I will do anything to protect you, doll.’
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  Bucky Barnes watched you curling closer to him, your cheeks brushing against his arm as your eyes remained close, face finally relaxing as you go deeper into slumber. He smiled at your form, pecking the top of your head before pulling you closer to his body. 
 If someone told him that his heart would be palpitating because of a pretty little thing like you, he would’ve shot them in the head for poking jokes at him but now that you’re beside him…
 “Is she okay?” Steve’s voice cuts Bucky’s thoughts off as Steve looks at him through the rearview mirror, quickly turning back to look at him then towards his girl with worried eyes.
 “She’s resting. Calm for now.” Bucky’s jaw clenches at the thought of you producing tears for the likes of Rumlow. His heart skips a beat at the memory of that gun being pointed at you. His grip on the door handle becomes tighter while he tries his best to keep his other hand calm, the one that he’s holding you with.
 “She’ll be fine. We won’t let anything happen to her. I know you won’t. I sure as hell won’t…” Steve gives Bucky a reassuring smile, mumbling the last words under his breath. 
 The car ride was silent throughout the ride, thoughts eating up on Bucky’s mind as he thinks of Steve’s words as well as what to do with you. How to make things up for you because he’s taking the blame for you being in a very dangerous position. 
 “We’re here,” Steve states, stopping the car and getting out before quickly going over to Bucky’s side, opening the door for Bucky and a groggy you. You’re still in Bucky’s arms, already squirming into consciousness while Bucky tries to coo you back to sleep.
 “Need any help?” 
 “I got it,” Bucky answers Steve before carrying you inside the manor, Steve quietly following behind.
 Once inside, Bucky feels you squirming more and he lets you go, gently putting you down on your feet. He looks down at your face that’s looking back up at him with a blank expression. He takes note of Steve’s form leaning on the doorway.
 “Bucky…” He hears you mumble.
 “What is it, princess?” Bucky notes the way your eyes flutters at the nickname and he fights a smile that wants to force its way onto his face.
 “You almost d-died because of me,” Your sob breaks his heart and he’s suddenly on you. He’s eager to make you wipe the tears away. Eager to bring back the smile that always makes him swoon because this isn’t how he wants to see you cry. 
 “Don’t cry, princess. I’ll do anything for you even if that means getting hurt.” He continues to wipe at your tears but it was no use. You’re a broken dam right now.
 “Daddy’s here, princess. Daddy’s right here.” He whispers, not caring if Steve hears him but he takes note of the way Steve’s form stiffens by the doorway. It wasn’t hard to miss because of his broad shoulders. 
 “You trust Daddy, right, Princess?” He pulls back, caressing your face and that’s when he sees it.
 Your eyes are fogged, face wet with tears but the flow has stopped. You’re just looking at him with those foggy eyes filled with something so much intensity.
 “Yes, daddy. I trust you.” He hears you whisper and he knows you’re deep in your space right now.
 Bucky wipes your face with a cloth that’s conveniently in his pocket before walking back, away from you. You whimper at the loss of his touch but one word from him made you stop.
 “Stay.”
 Bucky feels himself grow proud at your obedience. He flicks a look at Steve before looking back at you.
 “Take your clothes off for Daddy, princess.” 
 “Steve, you fucking stay there.” He doesn’t even glance at Steve but he hears his steps stopping. You didn’t even notice his words towards Steve because you were eagerly obeying his command, stripping out of your clothes with haste.
 “Come here, princess,” Bucky motions you to come over and you do. He instantly wraps his metal hand around your throat, not clenching it at all. He just rests his hand on your throat, careful not to frighten you.
 “You trust me, princess?” He asks one more time.
 “Yes, yes I do, daddy.” You breathe out, nodding against his hold which he tightens. Bucky’s eyes flicker at how your thighs clenched together and hear the tiny moan slipping out of your mouth.
 “You like this, princess? You like my hand around your pretty little throat?” Bucky tightens his hold a little more, eyes gleaming at how his hand is covering your whole neck now. 
 “Your neck is so tiny, I can easily crush it, princess. You’re not afraid of me?” Instead of being afraid, you whine, suddenly thrusting your naked hips towards him and he chuckles at you before letting you go. 
 Bucky glances at Steve who was fixing his pants, no doubt tightening uncomfortably at the scene in front of him.
 Bucky stares at you, eyes begging for him to touch you but he ignores it before walking over to the long sofa and sitting down. He pats his lap as he calls for you which you eagerly obeyed, almost skipping your way towards his lap. You were about to straddle him when he stops you.
 He turns your body with so much ease before pulling you down, earning an “oof” from you when your back hits his hard chest. He guides your legs so they’re resting outside of his legs. He easily spreads your legs with his and he dwells at the shiver your body makes when you’re completely exposed.
 “Sit, Steve.” Bucky motions to the long sofa opposite to where the both of you are sitting and he feels you stiffening against him so he whispers soothing words in your ears. “I got you, princess.”
 Steve walks towards the sofa before awkwardly sitting. Bucky could see how much his best friend was trying to control himself but, in the end, his best friend loses his inner battle for he looks at you and then to your cunt, before looking back at you.
 “Don’t worry about Steve, princess. We can trust him. He did kill that awful man for you…” He chuckles at the way your body shivers, your stiffness has long gone now.
 “H-he did?”
 “Yes. Now let’s give Steve a little show, yeah? Show him just how fucking precious my princess is…” Bucky’s metal finger goes to your breasts, teasing each of them with equal attention. He pulls little whimpers from you here and there and he can see Steve squirming uncomfortably from across the both of you and he chuckles.
 “Don’t be shy, Steve. You can touch yourself.” Bucky’s free hand goes to your core, rubbing his fingers on your clit, making your moans grow louder.
 “But you won’t be able to touch my girl. You can just watch and you can be thankful that I’m letting you.” Bucky takes pride in how he’s able to make his best friend look so powerless when he’s the boss. Right now, Bucky is the boss though.
 “D-daddy!” You’re suddenly shaking against Bucky as you reach your first peak, your juice covering Bucky’s fingers while his other hand continues to play with your hard nipples.
 Bucky hears a groan from Steve, smirking how his friend has his hand down his pants pathetically.
 Bucky continues to play with your body, pulling a few more orgasms from you until you’re crying from all the pleasure he’s giving you. 
 Now that’s how he wants to see you cry. Only in pleasure and nothing else. Only the best for his girl.
 “Daddy, please!” You scream at Bucky, your small hands gripping his flesh hand that was on your cunt.
 “What is it, princess? Tell daddy what you want.” 
 “W-want more, daddy,” you whisper, almost shyly, and Bucky coos at your embarrassed face.
 “You need to be more specific than that, princess. Don’t be shy. You’re so fucking beautiful that you got Steve and me so fucking hard, baby.” He turns your head to the side before pressing a hungry kiss on your lips, tongue lapping every corner of your mouth before pulling away, admiring the string of saliva that connects your lips.
 “Tell daddy what you want, princess. Be more specific this time.” He whispers against your ear before nipping at it and earning another whimper from you.
 “Want your cock in me, daddy,” you finally say, begging with your hips grinding against his hard cock that’s under you. 
 He hums in approval before easily lifting you up and positioning his tip in your entrance. He looks at Steve who was looking hungrily at your slit that’s ready to take his swollen cock.
 A gaudy moan escapes from your mouth as Bucky pulls your body down his cock, your head instantly falling back to his shoulder at the feeling of his cock inside of you.
 “Fuck!” Bucky hisses at the feeling of your warm and very tight walls hugging his thick cock.
 “God, baby… You’re so fucking tight!” Bucky’s eyes shut at the feeling of your walls clenching him and he even whimpers when you start to grind against his lap, asking for more.
 He gives it to you. 
 He stares at Steve’s face as he guides your body on top of his, bouncing you on his lap while thrusting his hips into you to reach deeper inside of you.
 Bucky sees Steve’s hungry eyes staring at a certain spot as he bites his bottom lip. Bucky follows his gaze and he too, grows even more hungry, if that’s even possible, at the sight of your lower abdomen bulging out every time his cock thrusts deep inside your tight cunt.
 “Princess…” Bucky groans, stopping you from bouncing, earning a whine from you which turns into loud cries of pleasure when he starts impelling you with his cock again and again. His flesh hand goes to press on your lower abdomen to feel himself inside of you.
 The three of you groan at the scene and Bucky looks back at Steve, smirking and moaning at the same time. Seeing Steve hungrily looking at you but not being able to touch you gives him a rush. Especially when Steve is choking his own cock while he watches the both of you. Oh, Bucky loves showing people that you’re his girl.
 “D-daddy, I’m gonna—”
 “Fucking cum for me, princess.” 
 And you do. You cum with a loud cry, followed by Bucky’s loud cry as he felt your walls suffocating his cock which only gave him more motivation to pistol into you, riding your orgasm. His vibranium fingers find your clit, ignoring your tiny hands that wrapped around it.
 “Too much, daddy!”
 “Give me one more, baby! I wanna cum inside your pretty cunt,” he whispers into your ear before pressing his lips on your neck, sucking your skin with wet kisses. That seems to make you more compliant. You wanted him to cum inside you and Bucky chuckled at how your walls clenched around him at the thought.
 “Oh, you’d like that, won’t you? Want daddy to give you his cummies? Want daddy to breed you? Get you all nice and round…” 
 “Y-yes daddy!” You let out a squeal when his fingers started buzzing around your clit.
 “Yes! Cum inside of her, Buck…” Steve’s wanton voice catches both of your attention and Bucky feels your walls tighten around him when he sees you watching Steve beat his cock with his own hand, his girth swollen and ready to cum. And it’s all because of you. His girl.
 Bucky doubles his efforts, metal hand vibrating against your clit, flesh hand pressing on the bulge that his cock continues to make on your lower abdomen.
 With a few more thrust, Bucky feels his balls tightening and you must’ve felt his thick cock twitching because your walls tightened again and this time, it’s enough to make him burst his seeds into you so, with a loud grunt, Bucky pulls you down on him as his cock twitches inside you, spurting his seeds into your cunt while the head of his cock remains touching your cervix.
 With his metal fingers still vibrating against your clit, you follow him with cumming as the mixture of the feeling of him filling you up with his cum and the intense vibration of his fingers on your sensitive bud.
 Across from the both of you, Steve watches how Bucky is filling you up with his cum, and the moment Bucky’s excess cum starts slipping out from the sides of your slit, he loses it. With a whimper, Steve’s cum shoots out and his hands get covered with his thick white cum while a few lands on the floor. Steve licks his lips when he sees Bucky pulling out of you and using his metal fingers to push the fallen cum back inside of you.
 Steve, still shaking from his orgasm, watches as Bucky picks you up after covering you up with his suit jacket and walking toward the stairs. 
 He stops to look at him though.
 “Thanks for killing the bastard for her, punk.” And with a smirk, he leaves with you in his arms.
 Bucky places you on the bed before cleaning you up. His hands are gentle as he wipes his cum off your thighs and your swollen cunt before getting in beside you and wrapping you up in a blanket.
 “Thank you, daddy.” You slur before curling up beside him. He chuckles before pulling you closer to him.
 “You don’t have to worry about anything, princess. I’ll do anything for you, okay? Seems like Steve will too,” Bucky laughs but doesn’t earn a reply from you. He looks down at your face, seeing you already fast asleep with a smile on your face.
 Oh, how he loves that smile. 
 And he’ll do anything to keep that smile on his girl’s face.
 --
a/n: i just wish I did this request justice :3
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General: @readermia @unlikelygalaxygiver @xoxabs88xox @anncutamarica @chaoticfiretaconerd @i-love-superhero @caffiend-queen @coconutqueen21 @jtargaryen18 @jennmurawski13 @mushyjellybeans @ninjabucky @buckstaybucky @donutloverxo @rebloggingeverything @adriannajackson @la-cey @awaywithtime @gotnofucks @empath-bunny @belovedcherry @white-wolf1940 @the-soulofdevil @mianorth @scorpiosmalfoy @rottenstyx @littlegasps
Bucky Fics: @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123
Anything Chris: @patzammit @princess-evans-addict @shadowcatsworld @notyourtypicalrose @onetwo3000 @bluemusickid @heyiamthatbitch @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @slytherinandoutasgard @chrisevanisliterallysir
Chris and seb: @harrysthiccthighss
2K notes · View notes
arcadejohn127-9 · 4 years ago
Note
Could you do the Brothers and undatables reacting to MC being poisoned and finding out that Micheal was trying to kill them because he was jealous that MC was close with the brothers. Let me just say your work is great the way you describe the situation before going into the reactions is really interesting. Thank you so much!!!!
I already had this ask half way done but Tumblr decided to delete all my work due to buggy WiFi - I'm currently in pain 😭
I don't know much about poison so bare with me, I just looked at the basic symptoms and went "I'm smart" I've passed out after being ill or just in general quite a few times when younger so I had faith
This also has a bonus Michael part! I've decided to add his response to the boys reactions in its own format or else each one will just have a repeat of the same Michael Response
Warning: angst, implied vomitting, attempted murder, fainting, spoilers of lesson 37 and 16, gore on Michaels part, long
"from Michael...?" You questioned outloud, unsure on how to feel about the parcel you've found.
Your relationship with the angel wasn't a defined one. You didn't hate him but you didn't like him either; there was always something about his presence that made you fearful. You choked it up to be just internalised fear due to hearing the brothers experience of the celestial realm and angels.
You've never met him in person; the first conversation you had of him was when you stabbed yourself with the dagger instead of Lucifer. You saw the light and he spoke to you, surprised and shocked at the love you had for the demons. Even then you never really got to speak to him again, he was a mystery. You've sent a few letters and he's returned some and Simeon is a link between you two. But other than that? You didn't really have a relationship with him.
So why? Why would he send you a gift?
You looked inside to see a packet of apple pieces and herbs inside of a snack shaped teabag. You admired the unique shape and couldn't stop a small smile appearing. It was definitely cute! And you finally got to use the new kettle and cups barbatos got you.
You decided to text Simeon, telling him to thank Michael for your gift. He was surprised by this but agreed, happy you two were connecting.
Whilst your new tea brewed you were trying to figure out a way to repay his kindness. Sure it was simple small gift but he was reaching out - you were giddy! Hopeful this meant he was fully on board to the exchange program.
But you soon would regret drinking that tea. It was so sweet you couldn't stop drinking it; your lips only leaving the cup of a second of breath. It was addicting. The herb covered apples pieces gave it a nice slight bitterness. But it wasn't overbearing but didn't make it taste like sugar in your mouth.
As soon as the last gulp came down; something came up. You hunched over as your stomach churned, a disgusting taste forcing itself up your throat. Your vision growing blurry as you stumbled out of your seat, the light in your room feeling like knives to your eyes. You tried closing them but the effect didn't change. You were barely hunched over on your side releasing everything in your stomach. It stung your throat, your stomach feeling painfully empty.
There was this invisible feeling telling you to go to sleep. You wanted to obey but the light felt too painful. In your dazed state you shakily texted the groupchat a sloppy "help me ASAP, my room" before letting your body go limp, heaving as you just laid there, dragging a nearby jacket over your head and let your vision be consumed by the darkness.
Lucifer:
He's heart broken
How did this happen? You were fine and now you're not moving
Your breathing was faint against his neck as he held you
He saw the parcel and connected the dots, Eden's tea
It was a death sentence for any human, a treat for demons and a punishment for angels
He's started a war once, he can do it again
Whilst he knew he couldn't enter the celestial realm he demanded that Michael show himself
When his demands went unanswered, he was ready to break all rules
"He's gone too far, I don't care for his reasons! I WILL DESTORY THE CELESTIAL REALM IF I HAVE TO! HE WILL ANSWER ME!"
when you received a cure all his angers washed away with relief
Happy to have you awake again even if it was for a few moments
Mammon:
FLASHBACK ARE STRONG
All he can think about his how you looked like in the past; dying in his arms
He immediately went to blame belphie but almost tripped over the parcel
He's an idioit but he knew what this tea was
Becomes feral with rage and overly protective of your unconscious body
He's hunched over by your side at all times just growling at anyone who comes near you
He wanted to hurt Michael but he wanted to stay with you
He'd talk to you and tell you how he was going to get payback
"I should of known he'd do something-! I'll never forgive him- DON'T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!!! I'M DOING THIS FOR THEM!"
As soon as you get the cure he's hugging you and telling you how much he missed you
Levithan:
When he found you, his heart dropped
It only got worse when he found the parcel and realized what Michael has done
he will remind the celestial realm why he is an admiral of hell's navy
He spends time by the sea communicating with any creature he can get; telling them if things go down he'll need them to flood the gates of heaven
When he isn't planning war he's with you, playing games, trying to ignore how dead you looked
He would remind you what buttons to push when your chatacter didn't move
"YOU THINK I'LL JUST LET THIS SLIDE??!! HE'S KILLED MY BEST FRIEND!"
He broke down sobbing when you woke up after getting a cure
He was convinced you were dead but here you were, alive and awake
Satan:
He's a detective nerd so of course he scoped out the scene
When he found the parcel and Michaels name - oh boy
Never met the man and pities him for letting their first meeting be the angels demise
It wasn't long before he had to be detained
Screaming and tearing up anything he could, yelling at his brother's for falling
He blamed his brothers, he blamed Michael and he blamed himself
Hated being locked away from you, would course more of a fuss when he couldn't see you
"I WILL KILL EVERY ONE OF YOU IF YOU DON'T LET ME GET TO THAT DAMN ANGEL!! I HATE YOU!"
He's only calmed down when you are given a cure and he's told you're alive
Is finally allowed to see you and he holds you tight
Asmodeus:
When he found you he was sobbing
It only grew worse when he found out what happened
In Denial
Not of Michael, he believed that but in denial you were dead or were dying
Kept insisting you were just tired and sleeping
Destroyed an entire room when one of them insisted you weren't sleeping
He'd help you get ready and pamper you, telling you it's okay and you can thank him when you feel better
Would be seen wiping your face often in hopes it'll get rid of that death like appearance you have
"They're fine but Michael won't be, when my precious darling wakes up I'll make sure they know I'll make everything better."
When you bad your cure he started crying and laughing, telling everyone he was right
Clinged to you and let you sleep
Beezlebub:
He found the parcel almost immediately
And went into a rage - we all know how his hunger tantrums are
Would've destroyed the whole house if he wasn't restrained
Guilt
So much guilt, his shoulders are always sagging
Sits by your unconscious body so he feels like he's protecting you
Has tried kissing you awake
Hoping you'll wake up like a fairy tale Character and everything will be fine
"I'm going to kill Michael and I won't let any of you stop me....protect (Y/N) For me."
Was so happy and relieved when you got the cure, sticking to your side at all times even when you were awake
Belphegor:
He was quick to help you into bed and on your side
When he found the parcel he was ready to murder
His rage towards Michael massively outweighed his hatred for humanity - even Lucifer!
Beel couldn't keep control of him mostnofnthe time unless he got forceful, belphegor stuck in a headlock screeching bloody murder
Stress sleeping
Like many of the brothers he develops two modes: calm or PLANNING MASS MURDER
Whenever he gets overwhelmed he just forces body to shut down and sleep besides you
"Michael will face me again, I won't let him kill anyone else that I love! He got Lilith killed and he can't do the same for (Y/N)!"
As soon as the cure was found he was by your side
Letting you rest and watched over you
UNDATEABLES↓
Diavolo:
Found out through the brothers
Sees this as an act of war against the peace he's working for
He was normally sweet and forgiving but it seemed Michael wanted to rip to his last nerve
Demanded for every reliable demon to search for a cure
Even had Solomon try to make one
"Barbatos, what is the possibility of Michael coming down to the devildom or the human realm? I want 'discuss' with him what his actions have caused."
As soon he he found out you were alive and safe
He didn't stop his plans but let himself have time with you
Barbatos:
So much guilt
Like holy shit
Is just constantly questioning how he didn't prevent this
Asked permission from the lord to just change the timelines so this didn't happen but the brothers were against it
They demanded they didn't avoid this situation and let Michael face punishment
That he couldn't refuse, he was angered by the angel's actions
More than he would ever show
"humans are so fragile and their time is so limited - that's why I'm never going to let anyone cut theirs short again."
Was part of the cure search party, he led the group
Once you were cured he stayed with you
Acting as your butler and made to check each of your foods and drinks
Solomon:
It wasn't a wise decision to piss off a wizard with stupid amount of pacts
To think an angel would do such a thing
But whilst Everyone lost their temper and searched for a cure
He was wondering - why did it happen
He was ordered asked to make you a cure
He was able to do it but the real cure was also found - giving you extra cure wasn't going to harm you
But he did plan to harm Michael
"you'd think he was smarter than this, he didn't even hide he was the one who did it but all it does is make my job easier."
nursed you until you woke up
Making sure you had mini cures to completely magic it out of your system
Simeon:
When he found out he was stunned
Betrayal - that's all he felt
How could Michael do such a thing?
But he knew Michael was a cruel angel, many having to drink Eden's tea as punishment
It burned their insides and had any poor soul sobbing for mercy after a gulp
"Michael you fool, you can get away with things in your league but you've involved the three realms into this....I pray you do not make your demise harder for yourself."
Was apart of the cure search party
Soothed you when you finally woke up, telling you it'll be okay
Let you rest as much as you wanted
Luke:
They tried to hide it from him but he kept demanding to see you
He wanted to know why everyone was acting strange
When he finally found out he was broken
His mentor
His idol
His everything
The person who always went for permission and knowledge
He thought so highly of him but he's hurt you
He's done more than that! He's tried to kill you!
He's been sobbing for days and locked himself away, he couldn't bare to see you after his once visit
He believed you were dead and they were just keeping your body
"Michael....why....why would you do this.... I thought you loved your brother's....I thought you were kind..!"
When he found out there was a cure he begged to help but they wouldn't let him
He only got to see you when you woke up and he was hugging you, crying
+ bonus Character↓
Michael:
The angel knew they'd be upset
But 9 demons wanting his blood? One wizard ready to cause mayhem and even his own kind wanting his downfall?
That he didn't expect
In his blind jealousy he didn't expect they'd all care for you this much
Thinking apart of them would be relieved you weren't there
But no
"You were my brother's before you were their partner, I'm simply doing what is right! It was their time to meet him and finally stop controlling all of you! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO LOVE ME! I'M YOUR FAMILY! WHY ARE THEY MORE IMPORTANT?!"
He got his answer
His wings torn to shreds, chunks of flesh bitten off him and slashes all over his body
He was left in human world bleeding and barely recognisable
They didn't hold back
He dread to think what the rest of them would do when they find him
799 notes · View notes
makeste · 4 years ago
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BnHA Chapter 310: A Tale of Two Kacchans
Previously on BnHA: Flashback!Deku was all, “hey, you know what sounds like a good decision? Abandoning my studies at the safest place in the country so that the bad guy who wants to find me and kill me has literally nothing standing in his way of doing that.” All Might was all, “I fucking knew you were going to say some bullshit like that so whatever, but I’M COMING WITH YOU and I’m also going to invite the Hawksquad to come with us, mostly so that I can steal Jeanist’s car.” Jeanist was all, “okay fine you can borrow my car, All Might, but only if you wear jeans.” All Might was all, “okay sure” and he wore jeans and also sunglasses and a leather jacket and it was pretty rad. Anyway so now they’re out there fighting crime and hunting down the LoV and stuff, and absolutely none of it is going to end well, I’m just letting you know now. But I guess we’ll let them enjoy it while it lasts.
Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “happy belated Kacchan’s Birthday makeste, here’s the flashback you really wanted at long last,” and proceeds to pull the old vestige flashback out of the kitchen drawer and upend its contents all over my Friday afternoon without the slightest bit of warning. OFA III is all “WHAT’S UP I’M JUST SOME GUY, HELLO,” and okay?? Hello yourself. OFA II, on the other hand, is all, “okay yeah I have different hair and stuff, but I’m like 98% sure I’m either Bakugou or his goddamn twin, I mean look at me.” Which, yeah. I looked, and he really is though you guys. Anyway though, so he and OFA II basically just showed up in the First (who goes by Yoichi now)’s prison cell one day all “HEY THERE, WE’RE HERE TO SAVE YOU, APPARENTLY, ALTHOUGH WE SEEM REAL CONFUSED ABOUT IT TBH BUT HEY.” And so they saved him, and Yoichi was all “hey nice to meet you do you want to join my super-exclusive Saving The World Club”, and so they did, and then the chapter ended lol. I would have said yes too.
oh my sweet lord?? I didn’t realize we were getting a color page this week, but LOOK AT THIS
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this could have been a fucking volume cover. I’m almost mad that it wasn’t, lol but I mean fkldjslklk just look at it??! Horikoshi out here spoiling us and making sure we’re well fed since next week the manga is on break for Golden Week. well this will certainly help to tide me over. hot damn look at those colors
so now it’s raining on some dumb building in the middle of somewhere
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is this where the Hawksquad has set up camp for the night? or are we actually cutting back to the League? that’d be unexpected (but not unwelcome)
ffff nevermind dammit it’s just more random citizens under attack
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feels like this is the third or fourth scene we’ve had of civilians being Under Attack since this arc started. I mean no offense, but I think we get it by this point. it’s the end times, etc. etc. we’re well aware that things have gone to shit
so apparently these two guys are facing off against a girl with a mutant quirk. and she’s telling them that she’s not a monster and she was just scared, oh shit. I believe her btw, you can see it in her face
but these assholes don’t believe her at all and they’re pointing what looks to be some type of support item gun at her
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you know what’s interesting, is that this kind of random quirk discrimination is the exact kind of thing PLF and the like were swearing up and down they’d put a stop to with their glorious revolution. it’s almost like those guys were completely full of shit. huh
so yeah, fortunately for this woman someone is stepping in and intervening before she can be blasted to bits by this trigger-happy asshole for absolutely no fucking reason
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looks like a hero actually stepped in and saved her?? but no that can’t be, heroes are the ones that ruin everything and make everything worse, or so I understand. lol where did all of this sarcasm come from out of nowhere dlkdsjlk I’m sorry guys I just suddenly got swept up in the hypocrisy of certain people’s philosophies out of the blue idek
anyway so it is of course Deku saving her, and now he’s trying to talk thess jerks down all diplomatically instead of just kicking their asses, which is certainly a choice
MOTHERFUCKER I’M
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fucking impossible to miss the real world parallels here. shit. this woman nearly died for her crime of Walking While Having A Mutant Quirk huh. and meanwhile Deku is just letting this guy scurry away and even letting him keep that fucking bazooka of his, like, ????
fucking hell she’s crying!!
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lmao this chapter is actively trying to make me mad now huh. that’s some genuine righteous anger I’m feeling on behalf of this fictional ferret lady whom I only met two minutes ago. girl you are not the one who needs to explain herself here!! you didn’t do anything wrong holy fuck. everything about this situation sucks so much
fkKJKLMMMHFGH
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“I’m sorry I made you upset, please enjoy this panel of tiny!floating!Deku hefting this lady’s massive beach umbrella up for her like the fucking gentleman he is” well okay then thank you sir
and JUST LIKE THAT the tension is broken and I’m entirely incapable of taking the rest of this conversation seriously because Deku’s trying to be all calming and authoritative, but now the illusion has been broken because I know he only comes up to like her knees
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“well thanks again for saving me young man. I’ll leave you to it, I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do like protecting your Lucky Charms cereal from all those greedy children”
oh hey All Might
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you wouldn’t have just let that guy with the bazooka just walk away to commit more attempted murders would you?? man
OH MY GOD DEKU IS IMMEDIATELY DITCHING HIM AGAIN
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I ~CANNOT STAY HERE~ oh, well, sorry to keep you detained I know you’re busy
dfslkjlk oh my god
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fucking told you Deku didn’t pack any food lol. it’s literally all notebooks in that bag you guys. he couldn’t just leave them all in his dorm room when he left, because what if someone tried to read them and came across one of the pages where he absentmindedly doodled Kacchan’s name surrounded by little tiny hearts oh gosh
AWWWWW
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I needed this Horikoshi. thank you for this wholesome soul-cleansing interaction after all of that bullshit earlier
so now Deku’s climbing up this tall building to eat his lunchbox more dramatically. Tokoyami would be proud
and Banjou is saying that society right now is just like in The Good Old Days (read: bad old days) when quirk society was even more of a mess than it is now
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which is exactly how AFO likes it, no doubt
so now Deku’s having a whole conversation with Banjou seemingly out loud lol, weird. and he’s basically saying that they don’t have any clues as to where TomurAFO and the League are hiding right now, and none of the Tartarus escapees they’ve found knew anything either
mmmmmfmhm, marge simpson noises
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but you think you can?? you, alone, by yourself?? you think you stand a chance?? I just need you to think this all through a bit more kid
Deku it is NOT JUST YOUR RESPONSIBILITY ALONE, PLEASE REALIZE THIS ALREADY. YOU MAY BE THE CHOSEN ONE, BUT EVEN THE CHOSEN ONE NEEDS HIS FRIENDS BY HIS SIDE GODDAMMIT
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and of course my pleading is all in vain, because he’s a fictional character who can’t fucking hear me, and also because I’m pretty sure there’s only one character who is going to actually be able to get him to hear reason here. I’ve been saying it, and I’ll keep saying it lol. so until then I guess I’ll just have to be patient
anyway so it appears we’re segueing into another flashback??? HORIKOSHI PLEASE GIVE ME SOME BAKUCRUMBS BEFORE THE TWO WEEK BREAK, I BEG YOU
dlKSDJLFKWJELKGHSLGKLEKJLFKHLGK
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YES, THANK YOU, I KNOW WHERE THIS FUCKING IS LOL, IT’S NOT LIKE I’VE BEEN OBSESSED WITH FINDING OUT WHAT HAPPENS IN THE REST OF THIS SCENE OR ANYTHING LMAO. BUT ANYWAYS DON’T MIND ME, YOU WERE SAYING??
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oh my god oh my god I’m not readyyyyy, but also FUCK YEAH I AM SO FUCKING READY LOL LET’S DO THIS
YOU GUYS
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I’M ABOUT TO STEP IN THAT ROOM AND YEET ONE OF THOSE FUCKING CHAIRS AT YOU ALL
NOOOOO
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I’M ABOUT TO GRAB BANJOU’S GOGGLES AND STRETCH THEM OUT AND SNAP THEM BACK SO THEY SMACK THE SHIT OUT OF HIS FOREHEAD!!! IT’S WHAT HE DESERVES!!! I’M ABOUT TO MOVE TO JAPAN AND GET A JOB WITH DOORDASH AND FIND OUT WHAT HORIKOSHI LIKES TO ORDER FOR LUNCH SO I CAN BE THE ONE TO DELIVER IT SO THAT WHEN HE OPENS THE DOOR I CAN FINALLY ASK HIM “HEY WHAT THE FUCK” IN PERSON
AHHH NO EVERYBODY SHHHHH STOP TALKING!!!!
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SOMEONE PLEASE TELL THAT PERSON SCREAMING AT THE TOP OF THEIR LUNGS IN THE BACKGROUND TO SHUT THE FUCK UP, OH WAIT, THAT’S ME
(」゜ロ゜)」 щ(゜ロ゜щ)
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LOL THIS FUCKING ASSHOLE!!! LOOK AT YOU!!! YOU’RE NOT KIRISHIMA OR SHINSOU OR IIDA IN A WIG OR ANYBODY LOL. YOU’RE JUST A DUDE. BROOOOO ABOUT FUCKING TIME, WHAT’S GOOD
I CAN’T SCROLL DOWN AHHHH BUT I HAVE TO BUT IT’S TOO INTENSE AHHHHHHH
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I CAN SEE THE TOP OF HIS SPIKY HEAD, IT’S FINALLY THAT TIME AHHHHHHHH OKAY I’M GONNA DO IT HERE GOES
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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IT’S HIM. IT FUCKING REALLY FUCKIGN IS HIM OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. WHY AM I SO SHOCKED LMAO I’M THE ONE WHO’S BEEN SAYING THIS THE WHOLE DAMN TIME LMAO. OH GOD. O H MY FUCKING GOD
well okay then sir. so are you an ~ancestor~ or a Kacchan from another timeline or so what’s your deal then
YOICHI WHO IS YOICHI
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YOICHI ALWAYS KNOWS WHAT’S UP. LMAO WHO IS YOICHI
(ETA: I’m going to punch myself in the face lmao. he’s Yoichi. he, the First. that’s his name. name reveal at long last what what!!)
MORE IMPORTANTLY SHOULD I BE IMAGINING NOBU’S VOICE RIGHT NOW BECAUSE LMAO I AM ANYWAY BUT YEAH
(ETA: I actually think he’s going to end up being voiced by Nobuhiko whether he ends up being Kacchan or not, just because it fits right in with the general “identical in almost every way” aesthetic he’s got going on.)
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TUMBLR HOW WE LIKING OUR ANGSTY ALTERNATE UNIVERSE KACCHAN?? EVERYONE HATED YOU SO MUCH BEFORE THEY EVEN MET YOU, BUT THEY FORGOT TO CONSIDER THE POSSIBILITY THAT YOU MIGHT BE HOT LMAO WHAT A TWIST
“some bright-eyed brat” oh come on. IT’S GOTTA BE HIM LOL
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oh my god you all are probably TIRED AS FUCK of all my screaming but I’M SORRY IMMA HAVE TO DO IT ONE LAST TIME BECAUSE...
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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that face. that expression!! THE FACT THAT HE’S OUT HERE OPENING DOORS WITH HIS FEET, LIKE HOLY SHIT!! JUST ADMIT THE JIG IS UP ALREADY
and so they really are the ones who busted First out of his jail cell huh
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so how did they know you were in the room?? why did they come and break you out?? and how, pray tell, did they know to get you to transfer OFA to them?? hmmmMMMMMMMM
oh MY GOD
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you guys. oh my god. it’s too much. every last bit of it lines up exactly with the Bakuverse theory sdkjfj I’m short-circuiting. it’s really fucking happening oh my lord
HELLO SEXY ALTERNATE UNIVERSE KACCHAN WITH HIS SEXY FUCKING SCAR, FUCK YEAH WE REALLY ARE EATING GOOD THIS CHAPTER
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HELL YEAH WE’RE GOING. WE’RE GOING FULL SPEED YOU GUYS. LMAO I’M SO FUCKING HYPED RIGHT NOW I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MYSELF WEFKJLDKFFFF
SO, EVERYONE, LET’S RECAP. -- ACTUALLY NO, I STARTED TO WRITE UP A LIST, BUT I IMMEDIATELY REALIZED IT REALLY JUST NEEDS TO GO IN ITS OWN THREAD. SO I MADE IT AND POSTED IT, AND NOW I’M FINISHING UP THIS HOT MESS OF A RECAP POST. SO NOW WE’RE BACK TO THIS ONE FINAL PANEL OF DEKU EATING HIS KATSU ALL SERIOUS
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YES SIR. YES SIR, WE GOING, FULL SPEED AHEAD, WHATEVER, IDK WTF IS HAPPENING BUT YES!!
lol, anyways so as I said in my other post, mysterious sexy guys with tragic pasts are what bring us together as a fandom, so whatever your thoughts are on the rest of it, let’s just rejoice in that. it’s what we deserve
271 notes · View notes
pradaksj · 4 years ago
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Safety Net || part two (final). (m.)
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all rights reserved © pradaksj
↳do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.
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❧ summary ⟶ on new year’s eve, you and jungkook reflect on each other’s entire year together.
❧ pairing⟶ jungkook/reader
❧ genre⟶  enemies to friends, friends to lovers, fluff, angst, pining, smut, boxer!jungkook. two-part series.
❧ word count ⟶ 16,000+
❧ warnings ⟶ descriptions of an anxiety/panic attack, character death (non-major), smut which includes ... passionate to rough sex, oral (female receiving), penetration, fingering, unprotected sex (please have sex responsibly lol). 
❧ music⟶ safety net, selfish, stuck on you, exile, +more
❧ a/n ⟶ I am still fairly new to writing smut so sorry if it doesn’t meet your expectations 😭 also to all my people who don’t like smut “*” signals where you can stop reading as the smut is really just a bonus scene at the end. and remember dark purple = entering/still in the past, light purple = present
01 | 02 (final) 
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“God were we dramatic,” you laugh, glad that the recollection of your big fight with Jungkook was something that could by now be laughed at rather than seen as something you’d dearly regret, “Don’t you think?” you ask Jungkook, concern immediately washing over you once you see the sad look on his face, “Jungkook?”
Jungkook stares blankly at the lake in front of him, surprised at the resurgence of the same heavy feeling in chest he had felt several months before, “Did I—Did I say something wrong?” you worry that you’ve hurt his feelings, that being one of, if not the, last thing you wanted to do tonight.
Quietly he nods his head no, “I just—” he struggles to voice his thoughts, “I was—” he shakes his head and you grab his hand in comfort, giving him a small smile.
“Hey,” you giggle, “what happened is in the past,” you reassure.
“I know but—” he sighs, pushing his hair back with his other hand, “I just still feel bad, you know? I mean we went a whole month without talking…. practically hating one another…”
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August 2019. 
It had been about a month since your explosive argument with Jungkook, and despite living together... the two of you had never been so far apart. Not only were you not on speaking terms, but it was as if neither of you existed in each other's proper world, completely avoiding each other at all costs.
One would think that because you two lived with one another, you’d be bound to have some kind of awkward bump ins from time to time, but somehow the two of you managed to steer clear of each other. From eating breakfast and dinner at separate times, to talking to Hobi at your own respective times, and of course the first thing Jungkook did the next day after your fight was move his things out of your restroom and into Hobi’s. You weren’t going to lie, it did sting just a little , but you were quick to get over it. The part that made Hobi roll his eyes even further back than they already did, was how quickly you two scrambled around each other whenever you did happen to coincidentally be in the same place such as the kitchen.
Originally Hobi tried any and every method possible to get you two to make up, knocking on doors and trying to trick you two into talking, faking handwriting, stealing personal belongings, and of course begging. Hell, he even tried confronting you two in one of the rare times you guys were in the kitchen at the same time, but all you two did was remain silent and go back into your respective rooms. Not bothering to even spare a glance at one another.
He had given up about two weeks in of trying, deciding that it was up to you two to figure out how you guys would make up. But it wasn’t until this Friday morning when he saw a certain letter stick out of the mail that he found himself loudly sighing.
“Oh Jungkook…” he whispers to himself, shaking his head as he read the letter in front of him. What was he going to do now?
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It didn’t take long for Jungkook to get used to being the lone wolf in the apartment again, in fact it was easy for him to completely ignore your existence. It was easy to watch you struggle opening a jar full of kimchi. It was easy to catch a glimpse of you and Hobi watching One Piece on the couch whenever he was making his way out of the apartment to go and party. It was easy to hear you sing along to some new girl group song and not join along whenever he passed by your room. And it was very easy to hate you. Very easy indeed.
Gosh, who was he kidding? It was the hardest freaking thing in the world to do. Especially because he didn’t hate you at all. Pretending to? Yes. Actually? Fuck no.
If he was being honest, any hatred he had felt in the moment of the big argument had been rapidly washed away the moment he slammed his door shut. Instead it had been quickly replaced by the feeling of hurt and sadness. He even found himself sneaking into the kitchen that night to grab an extra pint of ice cream from the freezer and watch some stupid K-drama from his laptop back in his room. Even shedding a small tear when the male and female lead had to break up due to unforeseen circumstances. But of course if you asked him if it was true, he’d deny it in a heartbeat.
He’d often find himself zoning out and replaying the fight in his head. God, was he an idiot. What was he thinking destroying your painting like that? Did he really think you weren’t going to react the way you did? Sadly, the answer was a mixture of both yes and no. Yes, he wanted you to feel as hurt as he did, but he didn’t expect you to go fully ballistic on him. Did he blame you for it? No, of course not. You had every right to be mad at him as he had acted out in completely blind rage. Not bothering to stop for one moment and ask himself, am I okay with the possible outcome of what I’m about to do? Had he known it was going to be this, and well … he would’ve never done it.
It just happened so quick. One moment he was staring at the floor covered with broken pieces of glass and the next he had his fist going through the canvas of your painting, destroying the very thing he convinced you to work on. No wonder you hated him…
You hated him and you had every right to. He just wasn’t sure how long he was going to be able to take it anymore. Having to only catch glimpses of you from time to time and not being able to say anything because he was too ashamed to even look at you was truly killing him. And he could only imagine how you felt having to see him every day and night. Knowing the person you hated most was living under the same roof as you. Hell, if the roles were reversed he probably wouldn’t want you around at all.
Which is why as Jungkook currently stares aimlessly at the ceiling of his room, he knows he’s made the right decision.
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The night of the fight between you and Jungkook, you had felt a range of emotions that honestly were quite overwhelming. Whenever you’d stare off into space you’d find yourself feeling very sad and reflective, but whenever you even caught a glimpse of your then destroyed painting on the floor you’d feel the rush of anger return all at once. It was like that the whole night, not even an episode of One Piece could cheer you up. If anything it made you feel even more confused because you were on the episode where (spoiler alert) *** dies, and well not only were you mad at how it happened, but sad because it was happening. Hell, that was probably the best way to describe how you felt about the whole argument.
The first couple of days had been hard to say the least, the dynamic between all three of you drastically changing in the matter of a couple days. No longer were there grocery shopping trips together, nor were there laundry days where you and Jungkook would compete to see who could fold the fastest, and of course there were no longer Netflix movie nights where Hobi would complain because you and Jungkook kept cracking too many jokes during the most intense scenes. Your laughs always echoing across the living room walls thus ruining the buildup of the scene.
You were good at pretending you didn’t care, in fact you were great at it. Maybe because a part of you actually didn’t care. You had long been fed up with Jungkook’s moody antics, and him destroying that painting was the final straw. Yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have gone into his room after he specifically told you not to, but you only did because you were worried about him and actually cared about him. Couldn’t he have seen that before he went full on rampage mode and destroyed your painting? He was wrong for what he did, and at the end of the day he had no right to hate you. Right?
These days you found yourself doubting it. It wasn’t like you were in the entire right, you mean you had invaded his privacy … you shake your head, begrudgingly getting out of bed before dwelling on your thoughts for any longer. The re-do of your painting, which currently sat on its easel, serving as reminder that you weren’t planning on talking to him anytime soon.
“Good Morning to you,” Hobi greets, watching you stomp your way into the kitchen, clearly running on an empty stomach. Jungkook was currently out, either working out or …. Hobi sighs recalling what he saw in the letter this morning.
“Good morning,” you mumble, the grouchy mood that Hobi found himself a little too used to making its morning return. In all the years he’s known you, to see you always this …. down …. was very unlike of you to say the least.
Whether you liked it or not, your fight with Jungkook had definitely changed some aspects of your personality, even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself yet. Because no matter how good you were good at faking it, and trust him you were good (a professional indeed), behind that tough wall you had put up in the last month was a person who was hurt. A person who had their heart crushed right in front of them.
Grabbing two slices of bread, you place them in the toaster, preparing to make yourself some avocado toast. You sigh when you hear Hobi’s footsteps getting closer, not wanting to hear the whole “You need to talk to Jungkook” speech this early on a Saturday morning.
Turning around to face him, you’re prepared to protest against his usual lecture, “Hobi I don’t—” the sound of an envelope hitting the counter catching you off guard, stopping you from continuing any further. Furrowing your brows, your eyes glint with confusion. Hobi stares at you with a stoic expression, waiting for you to grab the letter from the island’s counter.
Slowly you grab the white envelope, extremely confused as to what this had to do with. The name on the recipient line reads, “Jeon Jungkook” and for a small second you feel your heart stop, but you’re quick to shake it off.
“This isn’t mine, if you can’t tell,” you scoff, preparing to hand the envelope back to Hobi.
Pushing your hand away, he says, “Read it,” his tone telling you that it wasn’t exactly an option.
Rolling your eyes, you pull out the single piece of paper that’s inside, unfolding the tri-folded letter. Your eyes quickly gaze over the subject line which reads, “Application Approval,” catching your attention. From there you continue to read…
Dear Jeon Jungkook,
We are pleased to notify you that we have received and accepted your application for the lease property of **** Jangsin-Ro, Apartment 32. Your lease will begin on September 28, 2019 and your rent amount is ₩****  for every 1st of the month. Any cancellations will result in a ₩*** fee. I want to thank you for your application and anticipate that you will have an enjoyable living experience in your new home.
If you have any questions, please feel free to contact me.
Sincerely,
Bang Si-Hyuk.
Wait what? Your eyes reread the letter that’s in front of you because clearly you were reading something wrong. Your eyes must’ve been deceiving you because there was just no way…. Looking up at Hobi, you hope this was another of his attempts to get you to talk to Jungkook, but there he stood, straight faced as ever.
“He’s—” your voice whimpers like a little kid, “He’s moving out?”  
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“Ow!” Jungkook squirms, the feeling of your fingers pinching his arm hurting him, “What was that for?!” he yelps.
“For trying to move out without telling us! And don’t you dare ever pull something like that again,” you scold him, tempted to pinch him again.
Garnering a laugh out of him, you cross your arms like a kid and huff a loud breath of air, “Ah I won’t, I won’t,” he giggles, “Maybe…” he mumbles, but he’s quick to raise his arms in defense once he sees you ready to pinch him once again, “I’m just kidding,” he sings and you roll your eyes.
“Serves you right,” you mutter, letting out the hurt you felt that day to him because honestly, you had never gotten the opportunity to do so…
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September 2019.
“Jungkook is moving out. Jungkook is moving out. Jungkook is moving out,” you think to yourself, having to come to terms with the fact that in exactly 48 hours from now Jungkook was officially going to be out of your life … for good.  
You were shocked to say the least, when you saw the application letter, not exactly sure about what you felt. You mean, yeah you were definitely mad at Jungkook, but enough to the point where you wanted him officially out of your life? Hell no.
So then where the hell did he even get the idea to move out? It wasn’t like you two were being mean to each other, nor was there blatant hatred being shown on your part. All you two were doing were ignoring each other like two little kids. That should not be cause for someone to move out. Not at all!
A knock on the door catches your attention, “You ready?” Hobi asks, dressed in business like attire. His all black suit made him seem almost intimidating, that was until your eyes landed on his newly dyed cherry-red hair only causing you to stifle a small laugh.
Nodding your head, you look at yourself in the mirror one last time. Tonight was the night of the art exhibition, and you were very very nervous. You had turned in your piece a couple of days prior, but to have to later unveil it in front of everyone along with giving a small speech was nerve wracking. Especially considering you hadn’t involved yourself in the world of the arts for several years now, if anything you were used to constantly talking about accounting numbers and different business statistics.
“It’s either now or never,” you whisper to yourself, not knowing what awaited you.
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“I just don’t get it Hobi,” you rant in the car, on your way to the galleria’s location, “he didn’t see me trying to move out when he was being nothing but a complete dick to me those first couple of months!” you pout, still not having accepted that Jungkook was moving out, despite constantly reminding yourself that he was.
Hobi sighs, feeling as if he’s heard you rant about this since you’ve found out … oh wait … you have! “Y/N—” he begins.
“No listen to me Hobi!” you interrupt, “Can he really not stand the sight of me that he feels the need to move out?? Was me going into his room really that big of an issue,” your voice wavers a bit, but you continue nonetheless, “And the fact that he hasn’t even bothered to tell you! So what? He was just planning on disappearing this coming Monday! Thinking no questions were going to be raised? I mean imagine you hadn’t seen that letter, he would’ve left thinking I hate him!” And to that Hobi lets out a scoff.
“What do you mean?” he scrunches his face, “He still is!” Hobi raises his finger before you could talk, “My turn,” he firmly states, only causing you to drop your defensive shoulders and roll your eyes.
“You two have not talked at all since your stupid little argument where clearly both of you were in the wrong!” he rants, repeating what he’s been saying for the last two months, the topic becoming tiresome, “And now one of you is leaving because neither of you can get over yourselves and just initiate some kind of freaking conversation! Just one conversation and I am one hundred percent sure everything will get cleared up and we can all go back to our daily lives, but nooooo both of you think we’re in some freaking K-drama, actually no, even K-dramas make up faster than the two of you!” he ends his rant on an insult, and you’re left there momentarily speechless.
“You are so—”
“I’m what?” Hobi glares at you, and you only narrow your eyes at him in return.
“You are so wrong,” you state, refusing to now look at him, instead looking out the window.
“I’m right and you know it,” you mumble something under your breath in response, “You invaded his privacy after he repeatedly told you not to, but for some reason you just felt the impulsive need to go into his room and find out what he was hiding. You know, I’m sorry Y/N but if Jungkook’s the biggest dickhead in existence then you my friend are the pushiest one,” he complains, finding his grip on the steering wheel becoming tighter. God, did the two of you get his blood pressure boiling up.
“You don’t get it, I had to go into his room,” you mutter, not exactly happy with the fact that Hobi is reading you for filth.
“No you didn't,” the two of you begin to go back and forth, voice raising with every sentence.
“Yes, I did.”
“No you did not.”
“Um yes—”
“Um n—”
“Yes, how else was I going to be able to find out what was hurting him?” you interrupt, turning to face Hobi, feeling the migraine in your head about to pop.
“And why would you need to know that?”
“Because I lo—” you quickly catch yourself before you could complete the sentence, crossing your arms and pouting. Like hell you’d confess in front of Hobi.
Hobi looks at you knowingly, “Because you what,” he taunts, knowing exactly what you were going to say,
“Just drive,” you mumble, your attention back to the window beside you, focusing on the view of the city streets.
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“Ah Y/N, there you are!” Jimin greets you and Hobi, having barely walked in from your argumentative car ride, “You’re on in like ten minutes,” he nervously chuckles, worrying only minutes ago that you were going to be a no-show.
“That quick?” you ask in complete shock, barely having taken off your dress-coat. The churns in your stomach begin to make you feel physically sick and there’s now a certain dryness to your throat that you could only accredit to the tension you were now feeling. Your palms were even beginning to get a little sweaty. Why were you doing this again? Oh yeah … Jungkook.
“Come on let’s go and get you set up,” Jimin tugs at your hand, pulling you to follow him. With your other hand, you attempt to look for your flash cards, wanting to remind yourself of the specific points you needed to cover.
“What the—” your heart drops, unable to feel the flimsy piece of paper anywhere near the coat that hung against your arm, “Oh no,” you murmur to yourself, not wanting to panic Jimin, “No, no, no,” you repeat to yourself.
“Okay here we are,” he stops you two in front of your draped-covered painting, pulling out a lapel mic from his pocket, clipping it onto the collar of your outfit. Now that you weren’t moving, you were now barely taking note of just how many people filled the galleria, and it was a lot. There had to be at least 200 people, minimum. Each and every one of them slowly looking around at the already unveiled art pieces, their eyes doing the judging for them.
“Jimin I don’t know—”
“Hey, you’re gonna do just fine, it’s just a bit of stage fright I’m sure,” he reassures, and though you appreciate the gesture, coming from him it just didn’t mean much. You see, Jimin has always been what's called an optimistic person, similar to you in a way. Always trying to find the good in the bad. But in order for his words to really have some effect, it would’ve been better if he was a pessimist, someone who always saw the negative in everything because then to hear that you would do just fine would come more as a shock rather than as something expected, someone like—
You shake your head,“I’m just,” your outfit suddenly begins to feel as if it's squeezing the life out of you, “I’m really nervous,” you whisper to him out of breath, watching as people begin to crowd around your area. Were the walls closing in or was it just you?
He begins to test the mic, “Jimin—” you repeat his name, a cry for help, “I can’t—” but it’s too late.
“Hello everyone,” he speaks into his own microphone, and you scan the audience to see if you can spot Hobi. When you do, you notice the look of panic he has on his own face, probably aware of your distressed state, knowing that there was nothing he could do about it, “This artist I’m introducing to you, has been a personal friend of mine for years. I’ve known her since my first year in college, and I can vouch for just how talented she is,” Jimin glances at you, unaware of just how truly panicked you were, “So without further ado, y/n take it away,” he steps away, leaving you under the sole spotlight.
Remaining silent for a moment, you stare at the several pairs of eyes that had their gaze solely focused on you. “H-Hello,” you stutter into the mic, glad that it wasn’t a handheld one as you were sure that you would’ve been a jittering mess, “Um my name is y/n l/n,” you nervously smile, trying to find something to focus your attention on. Originally you planned on staring at Hobi the whole time, only to find out it made you even more of a stuttering mess. God, was it getting hot in here.
“So um I think we should um reveal the painting first,” you sputter out, signalling to Jimin that it was time. Slowly he removes the drape, the sound of clapping providing you a bit of a soothing effect. People liked it. People freaking liked it. It felt as if a brick or two had been dropped from your shoulders.
You gulp continuing with your speech, “So I um—” breathe y/n, “I call this piece safety net,” you turn sideways towards the painting, ready to explain, “I call it that because as y-you can see in the painting,” you mindlessly point to it as if the audience couldn’t see it themselves, “There’s the um the figure falling into what I call a safety net of flowers and—” you stare at the painting along with them, finding yourself getting lost in your own work, “well I painted this after—” you pause, the room completely silent, “after finding myself wanting to be someone’s safety net,” you mumble to yourself, a certain person coming to mind.
There’s an awkwardness to the room, the kind of stiffness you only find in tense moments. You weren’t sure if it was because the audience was trying to be respectful or you were just making a complete mess out of yourself, but either way Jimin awkwardly coughs, “So um we will now take questions from the audience,” Jimin hesitantly says, by now noticing the extremely panicked state you were in, but unsure of what to do.
A woman raises her hand, a volunteer for the galleria handing her a mic, “Hello,” she politely greets, giving you a warm smile, “So I was curious as to why you chose two colors that don’t conventionally go well together, I was wondering if you did that on purpose or…” and though you know her question means no harm, the voice in your head was convincing you that this was some kind of an attack.
“I um—” your breathing becomes heavier, “I—” Just speak, you keep telling yourself. Tell her that you chose two colors because they represented two different personalities. Say something you freaking idiot. “I um c-chose—” you begin to hear the sound of people murmuring all around you, their voices echoing loudly through your head. What were they saying? Did they hate your painting? Did they think it made absolutely no sense? Was it really that bad? What were you thinking when agreeing to do all this? How could you have been convinced to do this? You didn’t paint anymore for this exact reason.
With every thought that races through your mind, the sudden sense of impending doom only becomes stronger and your rapid breathing becomes louder. You had to be sweating because God did it feel like a fucking sauna in here. The tightness in your throat wasn’t helping at all as well only making the feeling of nausea further overwhelming. You needed to get out of here. Now.  
And so without thinking… you run.
You yank out the mic and begin to run to God knows where, ignoring the shouts of your name along with the small number of gasps that could be heard.You needed to breathe again, and you desperately needed this feeling of danger to be gone.
Trying not to bump into too many people walking the dark city streets of Seoul, focusing on the sound of your heels clicking against the pavement, tuning out everything around you. “Just run,” you tell yourself, “Run until no one can find you.”
Soon the sound of your heels clacking against the pavement becoming the sound of your heels crunching against leaves. The pitch blackness of your surroundings causes tears to begin to well up, the trembling of your fingers along with the chills running down your spine making you feel as if you were running in an endless loop. Stop. Stop. Stop.
You come to sudden halt, pushing your arm against a nearby tree, desperately trying to catch your breath. You were alone now, isn’t this what you wanted? So then why did you still feel as if the world was crashing down on you. Why couldn’t you breathe? Why were hot tears spilling from your eyes? What the hell was wrong with you?
By now your sobs are in full force, your heaving chest only adding to its force. Because of your crying, you fail to hear a voice, “There you are!” Jungkook catches his breath, surprised at how fast you could run in heels. For a small second he thought he had lost you in the chase, with the way you maneuvered around everyone, he was thankful he hadn’t.
“Y/N,” he calls out, expecting you to turn, but he’s met with silence. You were having a panic attack, a bad one at that. Making his way closer to you, he’s careful in how he approaches you, grabbing your hand before you could run any further, “Y/N,” he repeats, this time turning you to face him, but you continue to cry in hysteria, your vision blurred by just how fast tears were falling from your eyes.
“Hey, hey, hey, look at me y/n,” he cups your face with his hands, a worrisome but firm look on his face, “I need you to breathe with me, okay?” your chest continues to heave, the rapid breaths of air coming from your mouth at an alarming rate, “Y/N!” he shouts, causing you to go silent, “Y/N…” he softly repeats, knowing he’s gotten your attention. You stare at him in silence, “One,” he inhales a big breath of air, “Two,” he exhales out, “Inhale,” he repeats his actions again, “Exhale,” he breathes out.
Slowly you begin to follow. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
In no time, your heartbeat begins to slow down, your mind focused enough on the task at hand that you begin to forget why you were ever panicked to begin with. “Hey,” Jungkook whispers, caressing your cheek with his hand, “You’re doing great,” he reassures you, providing you the words of comfort you so desperately needed to hear right now.
It had been so long since you’d gone through having a panic attack, almost forgetting just how bad they could sometimes get. But for now staring into Jungkook’s eyes and practicing some breathing exercises was enough to remember that no matter how bad they got, you’d get through them.
His fingers gently graze your cheeks, continuing to mumble small phrases of reassurance while you were getting control of yourself.  “Has anyone ever told you,” you place a finger to the corner of his eye, quietly breathing your words out, “you have very round eyes,” you say and Jungkook lets a huffed laugh out in response.
He scrunches his nose and smiles, “Yeah, a lot of people have actually,” he laughs, a toothy grin spreading across his face while he uncups your cheeks, feeling a sense of tranquility wash over him as he knew you were going to be just fine, “I’ve been told they look like a doe’s eyes,” you quietly nod your head yes, agreeing with his statement, a warm smile on your face.
“Come on,” he intertwines your fingers, gently pulling you to follow him and leading you to a park bench that was near. But the thing was, it wasn’t just any park bench, it was the park bench from the night Jungkook was drunk and the two of you had gotten into the fight with that drunk man. What were the odds? You hadn’t even noticed that you ran this far till now...  
He exhales a large breath of air once you two sit, allowing a neither comfortable nor awkward silence fill the air. Despite the heartwarming moment that happened only minutes ago, there were still things that needed to be talked about. Things that simply couldn’t be forgotten. It was the sole reason he had gone to the art exhibition because he wanted, no, he needed to talk to you.
He just hadn’t expected to see you running out in complete panic right as he walked in. The tears that were slowly rolling down from your eyes, causing him to feel a sudden sense of heartbreak. For the only reason you’d ever cry would be if your hard work were to be destroyed, whether physically or emotionally. It was the same despaired look you had given him that fateful day he decided to throw everything good that was becoming of his life out the window.
And so to see the scene in front of him play out had definitely caused both a mix of anger and sadness to boil within him. His urge to defend and protect you, almost overcoming his need to go out and make sure you were okay. That was until he found himself running out the door, signalling to Hobi that he’d handle it.
And so now here the two of you were, quietly sitting on a park bench with your hands being the only things physically touching, a comfort of its own for the both of you. It didn’t feel weird nor did it feel wrong because if anything it just felt right.
A part of you thinks and hopes it could remain like this forever, scared that if it didn't, you’d have to return back to the world where you and Jungkook were nothing more than strangers who were once friends. The world where acting as if one or the other didn’t exist was completely normal. The one where you’d find your heart selfishly longing for him despite stubbornly not wanting to. And so whether it be for a small second, a minute, or an hour, for now at least you just wanted to savor the moment because who knew what would possibly happen if he decided to leave and never come back.
“Y/N…” he begins.
“Shh,” you whisper, your puffy eyes softly gazing at the view of the trees in front of you, the silhouettes of trees as well sound of the wind softly pushing against the branches, a view you were once so scared of, not so scary anymore, “Just one more second,” you close your eyes, taking in one final breath of air. Jungkook feels his heart swell at the sight, remembering the scene from only months ago where it had been you doing all the staring. You pull his hand when you’re ready, your soft gaze now directed towards him.
“I just—” he begins to stutter, “I wanted to—” he feels his eyes get watery, the rush of emotion he was beginning to feel almost overwhelming him, “I wanted to say I’m sorry,” his voice slightly cracks, “for everything,” he whispers, allowing a tear to fall from his eye, feeling the weight he had been holding onto his shoulders now falling. The small leaks of vulnerability that you had occasionally seen now completely flooding through his walls of defense, that single tear becoming several, until soon you hear a sob emit from his mouth, but by then you have him wrapped in a hug, the sound of his sobs being muffled by your shoulder. Slowly you caress his hair, gently stroking and twirling the locks of his wavy hair in between your fingers, deciding that this time around silence was the best way to go.
“I’m so sorry,” he hysterically cries, holding onto you tighter, as if you’d go anywhere. He begins to shake his head, struggling to find the words that’d best describe how he felt at this current moment, “I’m—”
“Hey, hey, hey,” it’s your turn to say the words, gently pushing him off you so he could meet your gaze, “I know,” you reassure, “and I forgive you. The same way I’m sure you’ve forgiven me for snooping around your room like that,” you jokingly assume, and he smiles despite having red bloodshot eyes, “We were angry, and we said and did things that we shouldn't had but that doesn’t mean we have to hold them over our own heads for the rest of our lives,” you grip his hand tighter, “you made a mistake, and I made one as well. And rather than explode on one another and ignore each other, we should’ve talked about where we went wrong, and yeah,” you repeat your words from months ago, “maybe we didn’t get to do this as early as we hoped, in fact we’re quite late,” you giggle, “but we’re here nonetheless. And so let’s talk,” you say, ready to listen to the boy you had fallen in love with.  
Jungkook stares at you in silence, a million thoughts racing through his mind, wondering how you always knew exactly what to say at the exact moment, “I,” he hesitates before continuing, “I need to start from the beginning,” he says, wiping any residue from the tears in his eyes, ready to open up the book he had kept closed for so long.
You nod to him, signalling that you were listening, “When I was a kid, I um,” he gulps, “I guess you could say I had a knack for boxing. Originally, my dad had taught me as a way to protect myself if I ever came across a situation that’d require me to defend myself,” his fingers begin to fidget within yours, a sign that he was nervous. Quick to soothe him, you rub small circles on the palms of his hands, his gaze occasionally avoiding eye contact.
“But I also think it was because my dad, who once wanted to be a boxer himself, saw me a way to vicariously live out his dream. Because soon he noticed that the knack I had for it was more of a talent,” a small smile appears on his lips, “and well by then he had begun to seriously train me… I remember always coming back after school and dulging right into practice, waking up on weekends and running laps at the park with my dad in order to gain stamina, and just,” he exhales a breath, “and just thinking to myself how proud I wanted to make him,” uncontrollably a tear falls from his face once again, and he tries to gain his composure before continuing, not wanting to begin the sob fest too early, “Once he thought I was ready, my dad had begun to sign me up for amatuer competitions, and well I did amazing,” Jungkook laughs.
“And soon boxing would become the sport I’d find myself building my life upon, but one day—“ he sighs, knowing the conclusion to his own story and well this was only the beginning, “one day during high school we had this um career day I guess you could call it, and well long story short after going around and listening to how passionate some of spokespersons were of their careers, I remember thinking, is boxing something I was doing for myself or for my father?”
A sad smile appears on his face, “I think the most confusing part for me was that I wasn't exactly passionate about anything else but I also just knew deep down in my heart that boxing wasn’t for me, you know? To this day I don’t know what exactly it is I'm passionate for,” he laughs, “and I certainly don’t see myself making coffee and flipping pancakes for the rest of my life,” he jokes around, an attempt the make the atmosphere a little lighter, “but I think with the help of someone I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s okay to be a bit of a late bloomer,” he winks at you, “one day I’ll wake up and just know…”
You give him a small reassuring smile, happy to know that he’s learned his own lessons along the way, even if it required a bit of pushing.
”But back to my story,” he awkwardly laughs, the small feign of happiness gone, “Though I had realized it already… maybe it was because I was scared, or maybe it was just—” he shakes his head, unable to find the words, “I just,” he sighs, “I just couldn’t tell my dad because for me telling my dad would feel as if I was telling him that all the years of hard work were going down the drain. That the endless nights of working out and exhausting ourselves to sleep were all for nothing. And so when my dad told me that managed to get me a spot at some training camp in the states, I took it. I mean it wasn’t like I had anything going for me here in Korea, and well I needed to guarantee my own future,” he shifts uncomfortably, remembering everything a little too vividly.
“I did pretty well for a couple years, slowly began climbing the ranks, and the natural talent I had for the sport was beginning to really shape itself, even catching the attention of prominent sport reporters. Long story short, I’d find myself surrounded with nothing but yes men and leeches who wanted nothing more than a piece of my so called success,” he gazes off to the distance, ashamed of the ego that had been built as a result of such people, “and well when you get told that you’re the best, that no one can stop you, that you’re untouchable, you truly begin to believe it,” he lets out a chuckle, “so when Brandon Star, a man who was nearly out of my weight class, began to provoke me for a fight on television after winning some match and I kept hearing from my so called friends that it’d be an easy match or that it was a guaranteed win, how could I say no? Of course at the time I didn’t know that they would be betting against me… so I said yes.”
A momentary silence fills the air as Jungkook had never told this whole story to anyone, the revealing of everything somewhat freeing for him, “A part of me knew I was way in over my head, it was like a gut feeling, you know? But I needed someone, anyone, to tell me the truth and to confirm what I was thinking. I needed someone who was going to criticize me instead of nodding their head yes and pretending that everything was going to be just fine. I think that’s why when I first met you, you reminded me so much of the people who were around me in the states, faking a smile in order to spare my feelings.” Sadness clouds his features, ashamed of how he took everything out on you when all you were doing was simply being the person you always were... kind. For that, he was truly sorry.
“Anyways,” he continues, “that night of the fight, the feeling I had in my stomach was overwhelming. I told my dad, who was helping prep me backstage like he always did, that I felt nervous. That I was scared,” his voice cracks and he closes his eyes, remembering the scene as if it was yesterday, “and my dad well...he’s always struggled with separating being a father and being a trainer,” Jungkook tries to contain the sob that’s begging to come out, “but at that moment I just needed my dad. I needed him to tell me that win or lose everything was going to be fine. That he’d be proud of me no matter what,” he finally cries, and as you’re about to pull him into another hug, he vigorously shakes his head, stopping you from doing so.
“No, I need to finish thi—”
“Jungkook,” you softly interrupt because it wasn’t that you didn’t want to hear anymore, you just weren’t sure if you could hear anymore without at some point sobbing yourself,  “you don’t need to, especially if you’re not ready,” you stare at him with a sad look on your face.
“No, you deserve to know,” he firmly states, “you deserve to know,” he quietly repeats to himself. You nod your head in understanding, waiting for him to continue as he wipes away his tears with the sleeve of his shirt, composing himself.
“He told me that I’d do just fine, that the son he’s trained so long for wouldn’t fail him now,” he mumbles, the words of his father still echoing in his mind, “When you go and box, you’re supposed to enter that ring with no concerns of the real world, you’re supposed to put any negative or anxious thoughts you had outside the ring to rest. Because the moment you let just one of those thoughts seep through, you might as well hang up your gloves right then and there,” his expression hardens, “I went into that ring knowing I was going to lose…”
“From there I don’t remember too much,” he bitterly lets out a laugh, “I just remember being on a gurney and feeling the heaviness of Star’s punches beginning to weigh down on my chest, clearly having done some damage to my ribs,” he sighs, “but the moment I remember so clearly is my parents trying to make their way to me, doing their best to push their way in an effort to see me. I don’t know if it was because I was just so mad at myself,” his voice shakes, “or because I confused the look of sadness on my dad’s face with disappointment, but at the time—“ his voice falters again, “At the time I thought how ashamed he must’ve been of me,” he fights through his tears, trudging through the story, “And so as I was being lifted into the truck, I kept yelling how this was his fault, that it weren’t for him I wouldn’t be in this position,” Jungkook lifts his head up, combing a hand through his hair.
“When I got to the hospital, I refused to let my parents see me, I was just too—“ God, did he sometimes wish he could go back in time and change everything, “I was too stubborn, too ashamed with myself to even look at them. So I ran,” he says, catching you by surprise, “I needed time alone so I ran,” he repeats, “I ran before they could find me, I just got up and ran,” there’s a haunting emptiness that lingers in his voice, one that brings chills down your spine.
“I called Hobi, and I told him that I needed to redeem a favor,” your mind flashes back to the night Hobi told you what he knew, “And I thought this is what I needed. That I’d be okay with starting anew, and that if I could firmly plant my feet in Seoul then I could visit my parents in Busan, and tell them how sorry I was without them having to worry too much about what the future would hold for me… and explain to them what happened, what I felt, and why I ran. That was my plan,” his voice cracks, “I was reaching a point in my life where I felt so content, so happy. I’d wake up to see you and Hobi making breakfast while imitating some random girl group dance and think to myself how things had managed to turn out so well for me despite my failure in the states. Or when we binged on One Piece episodes that whole night while stuffing our faces in tubed ice cream and I just felt like a little kid again without a worry in the world. But then …”  
Jungkook feels the heavy feeling in his chest grow, “He passed away,” and just like that Jungkook feels as if the air has come out of his lungs, the same way it did the night he found out.
You feel your heart break at his words, recognition dawning over your face as everything was beginning to make sense. “My mom had managed to find my number in order to tell me there’d been an accident, and I just couldn’t believe it at first,” he attempts to hide his grief by stifling a sob, “I didn’t want to get up from bed at first because getting up would mean facing reality, it’d mean accepting that it wasn’t some kind of twisted fucked up nightmare but that it was real. That the last sight my dad saw of me was on some gurney,” his face twists, “that the last words I ever said to him were so—“ he breaks down, sobbing once again and this time you feel your own hot salty tears fall from your eyes, wrapping in such a tight hug that you weren’t sure if it was for his or your own sake.
He cries a sound so raw that it was almost as if the wound was still freshly cut, his hand clasping tightly onto your clothing for support. Any last defensive wall he had up was washed away by his salty tears, finally facing the final waves of grief, loss, and devastation in the arms of the person he had taken everything out on. The person he didn’t deserve at all, but had stayed nonetheless. You whisper sweet comforting words to his ear, wanting more than his grief to subside so that you could see the smile you loved so much appear on his face again.
“I just wish there was something I could’ve done differently,” he shakes his head, “so that he could know just how much his son loved and appreciated him,” he lifts his head up from your shoulder, wiping his tears away, and practicing his breathing as his chest had been heaving so bad because of his sobs, “And so that was why I completely changed that June and became cold. That was why I got so mad when I saw you in my room with the broken trophy I had gotten when I was a kid because I was just so reminded of everything,” he frowns, “and it had hit me like a freaking truck. To see my current world and the past one collide was just—“ he pauses, “overwhelming to say the least,” he concludes everything and you’re left there completely speechless.
You could’ve never in your wildest dreams even guessed that this was why Jungkook had come back to Seoul and why he had acted so cold for so long. His grievances had happened in such a short period of time, that all it took was one wrong move to set him completely off. No wonder he had kept himself so isolated … he knew he was ticking time bomb waiting to finally explode at any given moment.
The two of you stare at each other in silence, his words processing in both of your minds. You want to say the words that are currently repeating themselves in your mind, I love you. Three simple words that could make him forget his past, even if it was for a small moment in time. “Jungkook—” he looks up at you, “I—” you stutter, the words clinging onto the tip of your tongue, “I um,” you feel your chest become heavy as he stares at you in curiosity, “I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” you force out instead. He furrows his eyebrows, ready to protest against your apology, but you’re quick to interrupt before he gets the chance to.
“Since you’re being so honest with me, I feel like it’s only right I’m honest with you,” you bite your lip, disappointed with your cowardice, “So that like that we get a better understanding of one another,” you feign a smile.
“There’s a reason why I got so um…” you pause, “anxious before and during the galleria,” you narrow your eyes, it was now your turn to open a book that’d long been left incomplete. “I told you right? That I was an art student at Busan’s Art college but that I ended up transferring after an incident occurred…” He quietly nods, allowing you to continue, “and well I think I’m ready to talk about it,” you let out a breathy chuckle.
He stares at you in silence, ready to listen as well. “Growing up, I really liked painting,” you laugh, recalling the memory of you painting on the walls as a kid, “for some reason it was something I found myself falling further in love with every calendar year, but my parents, well they were on the more skeptical side of making a career out of it. I mean I don’t really blame them,” you sound unsure, “I mean I know that it’s hard these days to find success in the world of arts, or at least the level of success most people want to obtain but originally for me it didn’t matter,” you chuckle, remembering how naive you had been.
“Before entering college, I’d sell my little paintings and merchandise on those small-business centric websites like Etsy and stuff,” you say for example, “and you’re right, when you get told that you’re good at something, you really begin to believe it…”
Jungkook wants to interrupt and tell you that whatever your situation was, was much more different than his. That you were actually good at what you did, no, you were amazing at it. He wasn’t sure if he could listen to you talk down on yourself, but nonetheless he continues to listen.
“My first year of college I met people like Jimin who were so passionate about what they do that it really cemented the idea I had in wanting to turn my water painting into a career,” you sigh, “but in the back of my mind I always did have tiny doubts that lingered, and I always made sure not to feed them too much, but when you’re surrounded by people who are just as talented or even better than you, it gets hard not to.”
Jungkook completely understands where you’re coming from, having been in a similar position himself before. “And it didn’t help that my parents were constantly breathing down my neck about finding a different career to focus on,” you shrug “anyways,” you continue, shaking your head, “In Busan’s Art College, like many other colleges there are departments, like STEM and Business for example, but in this case things are separated by like dance, art, film, et cetera. And well if you can’t tell I’m a bit of a … pushy … person,” you laugh and Jungkook softly smiles, neither agreeing or disagreeing, “I think it’s due to me always feeling a need to overcompensate my insecurities, I guess. Like when you first moved in, in order to reassure myself that you didn’t hate me, the pushy side of me came out,” you explain, and the same way you began to understand Jungkook as he was explaining his story, Jungkook was beginning to understand you as a person.
“Well back to the focal point, I was a part of a committee club for painters within the art department, thinking that if I took charge of something, it’d increase my chances in succeeding in my career once I graduated. But the thing is, is when you join those committees I guess you could say there’s like a hierarchy of some sort, a cliché come to life,” you try your best to keep the conversation as lighthearted as you can, wanting the energy in the air to become one that was positive, a reflection of just how much you two had grown, “and well during my second year we were all assigned a project for some city poster in which we’d present to the committee’s leader, Nari, and where she and a couple of others would then choose which one was going to be used. And let me tell you, this was a career making project. The people who were going to be at the unveiling were names like Ji Hye Yeom, Haegue Yang, and more,” you sigh knowing you were coming to the rough part of the story.
“Nari had specifically told us that we were to only use materials she had chosen for us, and limited us to certain color schemes that in my opinion were the ugliest schemes I’d ever seen,” you scoff, “So me being the pushy person I am, I went ahead and continued with my original plan, which was making a watercolor painting because at the end of the day if my painting did happen to get chosen, I wanted it to be a genuine work of mine, not something that was limited by someone who was no more superior than me all because of some flimsy title,” you softly shake your head, “And so I poured my heart into it, working on it every chance I got during that school year in order to make sure that the committee would be so amazed , they’d have no choice but to choose it even if it didn’t exactly follow Nari’s regulations.”
A feigned smile graces onto your lips, refusing to cry at a situation from years ago, “I was so nervous that day to present it, but I was also so excited. Excited because I knew I created a piece that was so beautiful I—,” for a quick second your voice falters, but you’re quick to catch yourself, “I was just so sure they’d choose it,” you whisper, voice sounding frail and defeated.
“That day I presented it, I thought the silence that filled the room was because they were amazed,” you close your eyes for a moment, trying your best to push back any tears that wanted to make their way out, “God I still remember the extra specks of white and gold I added to it the night before, thinking those extra touches were really going to tip the scale in my favor,” you mumble, the embarrassment you felt that day coming back.
Jungkook feels his jaw harden, at this point an automatic response to the thought of your feelings being hurt. He didn’t know why, but to see someone as kind as you act out of character whether it be because you were mad or sad, always caused a heavy feeling in his chest. The only thing you deserved to feel was happiness and comfort, and though he wasn’t sure it was something, he, himself, could guarantee you … he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try.
“After what felt like 20 minutes, of complete silence she slowly got up in front of everyone,” you blankly stare at the trees in front of you, “I remember my heart beating out of my freaking chest for some reason, and the sweat beginning to form at my palms. And the moment she started speaking, I just went blank—” you turn to face Jungkook, who had a worrisome look on his face, “She started to berate me in front of everyone, insulting my hard work and telling me that even despite me breaking her guidelines, the painting still wasn’t any good,” you gulp, “But in fact, her words didn’t bother me at all,” you pause, “it was the comments from my supposed peers that really twisted the knife for me,” you scoff, “and then she did the unthinkable...”
Jungkook feels the heavy weight in his chest drop because he knows what you’re about to say. He knows what that woman did. And he knows why you were so hurt when he destroyed your painting, “She grabbed the canvas from the display board, and she ripped it,” you say, managing to muster up the smallest of smiles, but Jungkook knows that it's nothing more than a facade. An illusion so that he could think that you were no longer hurt by the actions of that woman.
“Once she did that, it just triggered everything else that followed after,” you furrow your brows, refusing to look at Jungkook, “I was being laughed at while having a panic attack,” you scoff, “I felt like I was in a scene from a high school movie,” you attempt to mask your hurt by making a joke.
“I ended up running out of the building, feeling as if my heart was going to explode from how fast it was pounding, and the compression in my throat was almost unbearable,” your voice cracks, “in just 20 minutes she took away any confidence I had in my artistic abilities, In just 20 minutes she made me question everything I knew about myself,” a tear finally falls from your eye, speaking the words you’d never said out loud before into the world.
“I attempted to stay at the school for a couple more weeks after that, but every time I picked up a paint brush, I just kept hearing her words along with the rest of my peers’ as well, second guessing every stroke I made on canvas. I had lost my spark,” you stifle a sob, “After that, I decided to transfer out and follow the plans’ my parents had always set out for me… and well, you know the rest,” you laugh in between your tears, wondering just how pitiful you must’ve looked. But soon enough you feel Jungkook's arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you into a hug so tight, you never wanted him to let go.
“Don’t leave,” you mumble into his chest.
Jungkook reassures you by cooing a small, “I won’t”, but gently you pull away once he does, holding onto his hand instead. A look of confusion washes over his face.
“No—” you shake your head, realizing he’s misunderstood, “I mean don’t leave our apartment,” you sniffle, giving him a small warm smile, leftover tears still brimming the corners of your eyes. His mouth gapes slightly open, taken back by your statement. He had completely forgotten that he was supposed to be moving out by Monday.
“We—” you shake your head, deciding that “we” wasn’t the right word in this case, “I need you,” you state, nothing but sincerity behind your words. Jungkook feels his heart skip a beat, the close-eyed soft smile that covers your face only making him smile in return.
He doesn’t need to say anything because you know … you know that he needs you just as much as you need him. You know that he’ll never leave your side from this day on because tonight was the start of a new chapter in your lives, one that included each other. Gently he pulls you into another hug, the warm fuzzy feeling in his chest being a feeling he could get used to.
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“How did you even know where the venue was, or what the time the whole thing was?” you ask Jungkook, questions that hadn’t crossed your mind that day now forming.
“Hobi sent me a text that same night, very um … straightforward?” Jungkook chuckles, “It read, Art Exhibition. **** Namgang-Ro. 7:30 PM. Formal attire. You either go or you don’t. Up to you. Just don’t go crying later on that you regret not going. And well I had debated for several hours, originally chickening out and deciding to use me not having any formal suits as an excuse. That was until I walked into my room to find that Hobi had ironed one of his own for me to use,” Jungkook explains, “And well luckily I grew some balls and went and well now we’re here,” he smiles at you.
“Hey, hey, hey, don’t cut off too much of the story. We still have to remember all the good that came afterward,” you giggle, and he only flashes you an even bigger smile.
“Ah you’re right, you’re right. How could I forget?”
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October 2019. 
“Happy Halloween!” you and Jungkook wave to the kid dressed as Iron Man, glancing at the clock which currently read 10:00PM. Mm you’d give it one more hour before permanently closing your doors and calling it a day even if Jungkook protested for more time.
“Happy Halloween!” you and Jungkook wave to the kid dressed as Iron Man, glancing at the clock which currently read 10:00PM. Mm you’d give it one more hour before permanently closing your doors and calling it a day even if Jungkook protested for more time.
You see, tonight was Halloween, and for the first time since you and Hobi moved to your guys’  apartment, you were giving out candy to the little kids of your apartment complex who usually went floor to floor trick or treating and it was all thanks to Jungkook. You were surprised really, you would’ve never taken Jungkook as being someone who was such a kid at heart.
After weeks of begging, he’d finally managed to convince you and Hobi to not only dress, but distribute candy. Usually you and Hobi would turn off all the lights and ignore the knocks you’d receive on the door, choosing to have a movie night than to participate in Halloween festivities.
Realistically speaking, you sorta expected Jungkook to go out and party tonight which is why when he notified you weeks prior that all of you were going to be participating in giving out candy, you couldn’t find it in you to say no. Hobi on the other hand required a lot of convincing and though he wasn’t exactly helping with the distribution of candy, watching him dressed as Batman while lazily sitting on the couch with a glass of wine in his hand was a gift in its own.
Jungkook, who desperately wanted to be a male version of Harley Quinn, had made you help him with cinching his crop top, exposing his toned lower abdomen every time he even stretched the slightest bit. It was…. quite a site … even causing several moms with their kids to “accidentally” stumble on your apartment floor again after only being there 10 minutes prior, your own little green monster finally making its appearance ….
But besides that, your favorite part of his whole costume was definitely the face/eye makeup he had done. The smoky blue and red along with the fake tatted heart under his left eye truly acting as the selling point of his costume. It just made him look very hot, more than usual. Hobi had even caught you staring at the boy on several occasions, teasingly nudging you whenever he did.
With Hobi dressed as Batman and Jungkook dressed as Harley Quinn, that of course only left you, who was currently dressed as none other than a female version of the Joker from Suicide Squad because despite how shitty the movie was, the style in which they made the Joker was still indeed very cool. Jungkook had even lent you his own natural artistic abilities to draw the tattoos where your dominant hand couldn’t firmly paint, laughing at the “twinsies” jokes you made in reference to his own tattoos. It had even given you the opportunity to ask him what each one of his own real tattoos meant to him.
Most of his tattoos, he explained, were done out of impulse. A majority of them being done in the states on a complete whim, but a couple of them held significant meaning to him. For example, his tattoo of a bandaged hand clearly represented his history with boxing. He explained that rather than get the overused boxing gloves as a tattoo, he’d get a simple bandaged hand done, deciding that it looked cooler and that you agreed with. Another example was the tattoo that translated to “Life Goes On” which was pretty self-explanatory, but meaningful nonetheless. Jungkook explained that it was one his favorite mottos growing up, and well recently it seemed to weave perfectly into his life.
But your favorite tattoo? The small One Piece manga strip he had across his left forearm. The story behind it almost caused you to shed a tear, had it not been for your white powdered makeup, you probably would've cried. You see, when Jungkook was a young boy he’d always watch One Piece as a distraction from boxing, falling in love with the story and its characters.
His dad, who’d always scold him whenever he caught him late at night watching the anime, never understood why Jungkook liked the show so much. It wasn’t until one night he somehow managed to convince his dad to watch the episode he was on, and despite not knowing anything about what was going on nor the characters’ names, his dad ended up loving the show just as much as him. The show had acted as a new bond between the two, from buying the latest manga volumes to staying up late at night to watch the newest episode. And well the strip on Jungkook’s arm was from the exact episode he had managed to convince his dad to watch with him that night. The tattoo serves as a representation of a memory he holds dearest to him, a memory of his dad.
“Ah I think that’s the last of it,” Jungkook looks into the last bag of candy he had bought, absolutely nothing left inside, “Wasn’t this fu—”
“Let’s go get a tattoo,” you interrupt, the idea coming to you out of nowhere. Jungkook tilts his head in confusion, eyebrows furrowing. A tattoo? You? Ms. I do not even have a dot of ink on my skin?
“A tattoo!?” Hobi turns from the TV, now having got his attention.
Both men stare at you in silence, thinking this was all some big joke until you begin to nod, reaffirming your choice, “Yes! All three of us! Matching roommate tattoos,” you smile, not exactly sure what had gotten into you, but surprisingly... completely okay with it.
Jungkook, noticing just how serious you were about this, begins to feel a smile form on his face. It wasn’t like he minded, he just wanted to make sure you weren’t going to regret it the next morning, “Y/N, you sure you one? I mean … you’re not someone I picture getting a tattoo, I mean think of your job,” he chuckles.
“Yeah, think of your job!” Hobi butts in, clearly not in favor of getting a tattoo.
Vigorously, you nod your head, “I’m one hundred percent sure,” you laugh, “I promise you, I won’t regret it,” you stick out your pinky finger, and Jungkook is quick to hug it with his own.
“W-What the?” Hobi stutters, unsure if it was the alcohol or shock in his system causing it. Probably both.
You turn to Hobi, “If you really don’t want it, then you don’t have to get it,” you shrug, “But at least come with us,” you smile, hoping that once you were there at the parlor shop you’d be able to convince him.
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Sitting on the leather stool with your forearm displayed, the tattooist begins to prep your skin placing rubbing alcohol on the area in which you had chosen to get your tattoo. Now that you are here, you couldn’t lie, you were a bit nervous. But mostly because you were skeptical of the pain the needle would give you. 
Jungkook had described it as “a cat repeatedly scratching a sunburn”... as if you were supposed to know what that means. He also said that depending on your pain tolerance you’d either like the feeling, get used to it, or absolutely hate it. It just varied from person to person as well as the placement where you were choosing to get it.
Supposedly the inner wrist didn’t hurt, but with the sudden stinging sensation you were feeling, you were a bit unsure of that now.
“So is that your boyfriend out there?” the woman tattooing you suddenly asks, catching you completely by surprise. If she didn’t have a pricking needle against your skin , you probably would’ve jumped at the accusation.
Trying your best to keep your cool, you respond, “Oh um—” you shake your head, “No,” you awkwardly laugh, “I wish”, you think to yourself.
“Hmm,” she hums, the same smirk Jimin once gave you appearing on her face, “Sorta seemed like it out there, I mean I’m sure if he had the option he would’ve chosen to sit here right next to you and hold your hand,” she teases, and a blush appears on your cheeks.
“Oh that’s just how he is with everyone,” you reason, not wanting to feed into the delusions that Jungkook could possibly return any feelings for you, “He’s a very protective person, sometimes a little too much, but it has its benefits,” you joke around.
She shrugs, continuing to work on the small tattoo, “”Mm I don’t know, I mean the way with the way he looks at youuuu,” she sings, “because you clearly like him,” she laughs.
“No I don’t!” you pout, “We’re just close friends, that’s all….”
“Close friends don’t look at each other like that, and they’re certainly not as touchy as you two are,” she says, only causing you to scoff.
“You don’t know what you’re ta—”
“All done!” she smiles, wiping over the fresh new ink on your skin one last time, “Look how easy it was for me to get you to stop wincing so much,” she winks at you, and suddenly everything begins to make sense. She was trying to get you to relax. Was the topic she chose really the best one? No. But it worked didn’t it?
She places the plastic wrap over it, “So what do you think?” you stare at the new permanent piece of work on your skin, a small smile gracing your lips.
“Ah I—”
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“Love it so much!” you flash Jungkook the two-month old ink on your skin, the digital numbers “00:00” acting as a permanent reminder of the day all three of you officially became roommates. It was small, yes, but to you it meant so much.
Jungkook pulls his own sleeve, showing you his own matching ink, “Zero o’ clock,” he hums, recalling a song he heard not too long ago on the radio.
“Ah too bad we couldn’t convince Hobi to get one,” you sigh, remembering how firm he was that night, “but we’ll get him next time,” you laugh.
Jungkook quirks his brow, “Next time?”
You nod your head, “I can see why people get addicted to these things,” you joke, “they’re like their own pieces of art,” you smile.
“Design mine next time,” he suddenly says, his statement coming off more as a command than a question. Turning to face him, you look for any small sign that he was joking.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope,” he pops the ‘p’, “I think a watercolor style painting would look amazing rightttt,” he points to the side of his ribcage, “here.”
Eyes widening in shock, you’re in complete disbelief, “You—you’re crazy!” you laugh, refusing to take him seriously.
“Ah I’m being serious Y/N,” he pouts, “Come on you know you want toooo,” he sings, softly nudging you.
You stare at him for a moment, “Are you sure?” you ask, skeptical about his seriousness.
He nods, “As sure as you were about getting that tattoo that night,” he teases, and you only roll your eyes in return.
“Mmm,” you hum, “I’ll think about it.”
“Think?! I’m your roommate!” he dramatically complains, throwing his head against your shoulder, suddenly in a clingy mood. Maybe the tattooist was right… maybe you two were a little too touchy….
You mean, just last month during friendsgiving, Hobi just had to complain in front of everyone claiming, “If you two don’t get your own room—”
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“Then I think at some point this turkey is going to come back alive just to tell you two himself,” he slurs his words, wine glass in hand.
Drunk Yoongi tags in, “How do you know it’s a he?” he squints his eyes, gearing up for a debate.
Hobi rolls his eyes and makes a dismissive motion with his hand, “Not now Yoongi,” he says, causing everyone sitting at the table to laugh, and he turns his attention back to you and Jungkook, currently sitting next to each other, “Are you two going to continue playing footsies or are you finally going to—”
Seokjin interrupts by awkwardly coughing and tapping his champagne glass with his fork, getting up from his seat in the process, “I think it’s the perfect time to do our annual “What am I thankful for” toast, so I’ll begin,” he laughs, all eyes on him, “So um this year I am thankful for all of my friends who continuously stick by side throughout the years, and for the wonderful woman I’ve grown to love more and more every day,” he warmly smiles at his girlfriend, the two already seeming like a married couple despite having only met this year. Seokjin turns his attention to Yoongi, signalling that it was his turn.
He groans before getting up, peeved as to why Seokjin always insisted on doing these things, “Okay okay—”
“This is gonna take a while,” you whisper to Jungkook, Yoongi’s speech now fading into the background.
Jungkook quietly chuckles in response, “You think? How long do you think it’ll take before he starts with his  “back in my day” speech?” he jokes around.
Suddenly Yoongi’s voice becomes more audible, “Back in my day we didn’t use—”
You and Jungkook snortle a laugh, “Not long,” you respond, the two of you trying your best to keep your snickering at a low.
“So … got anything prepared?” he asks, this being his first year and all doing this kind of thing, he was a bit nervous as to what to say.
You shake your head, “Mm no, you just sorta say what’s on your mind? I guess?” you awkwardly laugh, “Trust me, as long as they have their bottles of soju next to them, whatever you say will go in one ear and out the other,” you reassure, remembering the first year you did this and gave a heartwarming speech, just for it to be ignored because Namjoon could’ve sworn he’d seen the “turkey move”. From there it led to an hour debate on whether a dead freaking turkey could still possibly be alive after having it in the oven for several hours.
He nods his head, noting what you’ve said.
After going around it was now the last toast of the night,“Ah and lastly onto our newest member in this friend group,” Namjoon, who had just finished his own speech, turns to Jungkook and pats his shoulder, “take it away,” he gives him a dimpled smile before sitting back in his seat.  
Jungkook awkwardly blinks at him for a moment, not getting up until you nudge him to do so. “Oh yeah…” he forces a laugh, “Um so where do I begin,” you almost feel second hand embarrassment, if you thought you weren’t any good under pressure, Jungkook might take the crown.
“So… The first thing I want to say I’m thankful for are the new friends I’ve made since coming to Seoul,” he spares a glance to the boys, “um..” he bites his lip, “The second thing or person may I say, that I want to thank is Hobi…” he smiles at the drunk man, “well for giving me a second chance per say,” he chuckles, “I know I don’t say it often, but I’m truly grateful for you picking up my call that night,” Hobi gives a small warm smile, “And well the last person I want really want to mention that I’m thankful for is … you,” Jungkook suddenly turns his attention down to you, catching you by surprise.
Raising your eyebrows, you wonder where this is coming from, “I um—” he feighs a small laugh, “I know I wasn’t exactly the nicest person when I first moved in, but—” he exhales a breath, “But you gave continuously gave me a chance to prove otherwise every single time until I finally got it right,” he smiles, “and well last year I had a pretty rough year,” he jokes around, “and honestly I thought coming in 2019 it’d be just bad, but you single handedly proved me wrong and made sure this was going to be a year for me to remember and well for that I’m forever grateful,” you silently blink away any tears, not wanting to get teased at for crying after this his speech was done. He breaks away the gaze he held on you in order to finish his speech off, “So with that I say … cheers everyone!”
Everyone raises their glasses of whatever it was they chose to drink, clinking it all in the middle and repeating “Cheers!” before gulping down whatever was left of their drinks. The rest of the night is filled with nothing but laughs and joy, as well as the remainder of the month, every single day creating a new memory for the three of you, until you were left with nothing but...
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“The present day,” you whisper to yourself, unable to believe that the year had gone by so fast.
“What a year it’s been huh…” Jungkook softly smiles, glancing at the time on his phone which reads 11:50. 10 more minutes until the new year. 10 more minutes until zero’o clock.
“Yeah…” a comfortable silence fills the air around you, how had the hour gone by in the blink of an eye? You wonder if it’s the effect Jungkook just naturally has on people because never did you find time going by so fast unless you were with him.
“I—”
“So—”
Your cheeks become a tinge of pink , “Oh you go first—” he shakes his head.
“No, no, go ahead,” he laughs, insisting that you go instead.
This was the perfect chance, the chance to tell him about the feelings you’d grown to have for him in the past year. You just needed to grow the courage to say those three letter words that were itching to be said. It was either now or never.  
“I um, I just wanted to say thank you,” you chicken out once again, “I didn’t get the chance to say it on friendsgiving, but,” you gulp, “your speech it um meant a lot to me, and well I’m just as grateful for you,” you chuckle, “I think maybe even more.”
Had you noticed, you would’ve seen the slightly disappointed look on Jungkook’s face, “Oh..” he says, a small pout appearing on his face.
“What were you going to say?” you ask, faking the pep in your voice, ready to eternally scold yourself for being a chicken once you got back to the cabin.
He sighs, “It’s nothing really,” he shrugs, but you nudge his shoulder before he could divert the conversation elsewhere.
“Come on, just say it,” you tease, “because you either speak now or forever hold your piece,” you look at the time, “5 minutes till midnight.”
He stays silent for a moment, contemplating whether or not he should say what had been on his mind for quite some time, “I um—” fuck it, it was either now or never, “You know how I told you that I couldn’t sleep right? That it’s why I came out here…” you innocently nod your head as he continues, “well it’s cause I had already sorta been thinking about everything that’s happened this year…” he lets out a small chuckle.
“I mean isn’t it crazy?” he pushes his hair back with his hand, “Someone who was nothing more than a stranger before the clock hit twelve that night is now someone I can’t picture not being in my life,” you feel your heart flutter at his words, “And I mean to think we didn’t get along at first,” he lets out a breath of disbelief, “All because I was a person who was—” he pauses, unsure of how to describe himself from that time, “angry,” he decides to say, “I was an angry person who mad at the world,” he bites his lip in retribution for his attitude back then.
“No,” you laugh, shaking your head, “you were just someone who was… hurt. That’s all it was,” you say.
“You think?” you nod your head yes, “I never really thought about it like that,” he mumbles, “Would you do it all over again?” he suddenly asks, and you find yourself quirking your brow at his question, “Like if you had the chance would you do it all over again…” he further explains.
Without a second thought you say, “Yeah I would,” you giggle, “And you?”
He remains silent for a moment, pondering on his own question before nodding his head as well, “I wouldn’t mind doing it all over again because then I’d get to relive the process of falling in love with you all over again,” he finally says, “I’d get to pinpoint the exact moment this year that I fell in love with you.”
“In ten, nine, eight…” the families around you begin to shout the countdown, and all you can do is stare at Jungkook in disbelief of what you just heard come out of his mouth.
“Y-You love me?” you manage to stutter out, a smile now forming on your lips.
“Seven, six, five…..”
Silently, he nods his head, a loving smile on his face as he leans towards you, the flutter in your stomach only intensifying.
“Four, three, two, one….”
And as if time had stopped, his lips finally meet yours and the only thing you could feel were the placement of warm lips against yours, giving you a New Year’s kiss that would be remembered for years to come.
“Happy New Year!” the sound of fireworks popping are echoed in the background because the only thing you could focus on were the soft lips that were moving with yours. His fingers curl around yours, creating such an intimacy that you were sure you had to be dreaming. It wasn’t until you found yourself kissing him back that the reality of everything finally set in. Jungkook loved you.
Slowly he pulls away, savoring the kiss till its very last moment, “Happy New Years Y/N,” he whispers, a grin plastered on his face.
Laughing in return, you smile, “Happy New Years Jungkook.”
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**
Once you and Jungkook returned to the cabin, you were met with several complaints from Hobi, “Finally! We’ve been freezing all night!” Hobi exclaimed the moment you two walked in, harshly grabbing the firewood from Jungkook’s hands. It wasn’t until he peeped your linked arms that everything began to make sense, “Ahhh,” he gives you two a toothy grin, “You guys, look who’ve finally confessed to one another,” he yells, catching the attention of everyone in the living room.
Suddenly the room is filled with several “finally’s” causing both of your mouths to slightly agape open. “What do you mean “finally” ?” you furrow your eyebrows, looking at Hobi for an explanation.
He scoffs, “Don’t act dense you two!” he laughs, “It was so obvious you two liked one another, you two were just too blind to see it yourselves,” he scolds both you and Jungkook by flicking your foreheads, “You just didn’t have to go confessing while all of us were freezing in here!”
Both you and Jungkook awkwardly laugh, a guilty look on one another’s face. “Well choo you two before I make you two clean everything up and babysit our friends!” Hobi makes a motion with his hands, and the two of you are quick to make your way upstairs into Jungkook’s room. Thankful that he didn’t punish the two of you.
Jungkook is quick to take off his puffy jacket, plopping himself onto the bed like a little kid, a loud breathy sigh following after. You stare at him for a moment, unsure of what to do, that is until you see him open his arms wide with a pout appearing on his face, “Come onnn,” he sings, “Let’s cuddle,” he shoots you a smile.
Playfully you roll your eyes before taking off your own jacket, plopping onto the spot next to him. Small feverish giggles escape your lips once he begins to give you tiny kisses all over, enveloping you in a hug so tight, it would’ve been impossible to ever doubt his feelings for you.
“Jungkook stop,” you laugh, the tickles he was now giving you making the sides of your stomach hurt, “Jung—” you attempt to push his hand away, face becoming red at just how much you were laughing, his own high-pitched laugh echoing across the walls of the room with you. From there he does a mixture of both tickling and kissing you, the two of you truly in your own world.
Soon though, your little game of tickles becomes a full on makeout session, not that you were complaining. Currently you lay under him with Jungkook leaning against you, using his arm that rested on the bed as support.
Slowly he slips his tongue into your mouth, gentle but demanding, nothing less than pure love behind the kiss. “Jungkooook,” you quietly whine once he begins to move onto your neck, every suckle lasting a little longer than the last. His hand interlocks with yours as he continues, you’re hand subconsciously playing with his hair from behind, making small twirls with the brown wavy locks of hair.
“I love youuu,” he cooes, a certain gleam to his eyes. Soon enough, his fingers were teasingly playing with the waistband of your leggings. And God, were you dripping. “Can I?” he innocently looks at you, licking his lips in the process. You’d be crazy to say no.
Nodding your head yes, he nudges your legs apart and begins to pull off the cotton fabric from your legs. You help him along the way, desperate to receive your own pleasure.
Teasingly, he swipes his index finger over the fabric of your underwear, continuing to pepper you with warm kisses on the underside of your jaw. The grip you had on his hair became tighter with every swipe, “Aren’t you wet?” he slyly chuckles, rubbing small circles with his placed finger.
“Stop teasing,” you whine, only causing him to muffle a laugh against your shoulder.
“I just wanna take my timeeeee,” he hums, placing a kiss to your cheek, “Can I take my time?” he pouts, only causing you to roll your eyes, agreeing nonetheless, “That’s my girl,” he whispers, pecking you on the lips before continuing, cupping your cheek with his … unoccupied … hand.
“God you’re beautiful,” he says staring at your pleasured expression, a result of the friction between his finger and your underwear becoming more intense.
“Jungkook,” your voice shakes, wanting needing him to do something before the muscles in your leg spasm any more.
“Shh shh not too loud,” he softly mumbles, because considering how drunk the boys’ were, any loud noise and you’d have someone idiotically stumbling into the room in order to find out whatever the noise was. Not wanting you to complain any more, he slips his finger under your underwear, pressing both his middle and index finger to the centerfold of your sex, “Look how wet you are,” he smirks, coaxing another moan from your lips.
Jungkook couldn’t lie, he’d envisioned this moment a couple of times before, but to have it becoming a reality was completely different than what he imagined. It was indeed better.
“I bet you’d love for me to take these off,” he teasingly pretends to pull down your panties, knowing exactly what he was doing.
“Please Jungkook,” you cry, how was it possible to already be on the verge of releasing when he hadn’t even done anything explicit yet? He begins to move his fingers up and down your clit, coating his fingers with your wetness, preparing to insert his fingers in your aching hole, “Please—” you attempt to whimper his name again, but his lips passionately kiss you before you get the chance to. It’s once he does that, that the energy in the room shifts, becoming one of playful teasingness to one of passion and love. It’s while he kisses you that he finally sinks his single finger into your pussy, your wetness helping him in gradually picking up the pace until soon enough he’s able to slip in another. Your moan being suppressed by the pressing of his lips against yours, softly nibbling on your lower lip.  
“So fucking tight,” he mutters, the squelching sounds coming from your pussy bringing him a sense of pleasure, “Can’t wait to make love to you,” he whispers watching as your eyes lazily roll back, the sight being one he’d remember for a very long time.
“J—Just like that Jungkook,” you manage to stutter out, your arousal dripping in and out of your pussy as he continues with his motions. By now you feel his hardened member kneading against panties, his self-restraint holding on by a string. God, did he wanna fuck your brains out already. Had you been some kind of one night stand and he probably would already be doing so, but you, well you were different. You were his. And he was going to make sure you knew it to.
With his other hand he begins to slide his way under your shirt, caressing your breasts while fingering you, “Take off the shirt,” he mumbles while planting kisses on your neck, and you’re quick to obey, pulling the shirt over your head and uncaringly throwing it onto the floor.
By now you were dressed in only your underwear and bra, which to you seemed a bit unfair and so purposely you begin to play with the hem of his shirt, in hopes that he’d get the message. When he doesn’t, you momentarily stop him from kissing you any further, mumbling a tiny, “Mm take off your shirt,” causing him to let out a breathy laugh. He does as told, exposing the toned torso you’d find yourself frequently gawking over for in the past year. Because truly, his body proportions were insane.
Gently pulling him from his hair, you deepen the kiss by running your other hand across his bare back, the warm skin to skin touch providing another level of intimacy. “Let me eat you out,” he murmurs against your lips, waiting for a simple three letter word so that he can finally pull off your panties.
Instead you give him a small “MmHm,” with a small nod which in this case would suffice as he was sure you were too lost in your own world of pleasure to properly respond. Delicately he removes your underwear, parting your legs in between before lowering his head.
Without saying a word, he runs his finger against your slit, licking and sucking on the fluid that dripped from his finger. What. A. Fucking. Tease. “Jungkooook,” you whine like a brat, the heat you felt below almost unbearable at this point.
“What a pretty pussy,” he rasps, gives your clit a gentle kiss before suckling against it, his saliva mixing with your fluids. Immediately you feel a wave of pure bliss, your fingers slightly trembling at just how good the sudden sensation felt.
“Oh God Jungkook,” you needily whisper once he slips his finger back inside, pushing it deep into your core all while eating you out. Your breathy moans along with the sound of your wet pussy being toyed around with, fill the room. With your eyes half-open, you manage to look down at the sight of Jungkook licking through your folds, his messy hair covering most of his face until you use your hand to push it back, wanting to savor the view in front of you.
“Just look at you,” he groans, admiring the view of your back arched along with your thighs which slightly quivered at the flicks of his tongue, “All fucking mine, you got that?” he asks.
When you don’t respond, he inserts a second finger, catching your attention.
“Yes!” you cry at the sudden jolt of pleasure, his fingers scissoring inside of you, “I’m all yours,” you answer and to that he smirks, curling his fingers inside you. His ego at a level unthinkable. From there he continues to suck and slurp any remnants of your wetness, ignoring your warnings that you were about to orgasm.
It isn’t until he feels a quick rougher than usual tug to the hair followed with a gentle release that he knows you’ve came. Only then does he stop, quickly making his way to sweetly kiss you as you ride through your orgasm. You barely manage to kiss him back, too overwhelmed by orgasm he just brought down on you.
He cups your face once again, making out with you once again even if you were lazily kissing him back, “Jungkook,” you croak out, “Make love to me,” you dazedly whisper, recalling his words from earlier, and without a single word he begins to kiss you again, this time even more passionately (if that was possible) your words triggering a certain fire within him. And despite being in a post-orgasm state, you kiss him with just as much passion as he is doing to you.
By now the two of your hands’ were entangled with each others’ hair, Jungkook roughly pressing his clothed erection against the barity of your pussy. Releasing one of his hands from his hair, he smoothly travels down your back, removing the clasp of your bra with his hand. Deciding not to question his skills, you help further remove it until you’re only left completely nude. Your tits now on full display for him.  
He soon begins to tenderly suck on your hardened nipples, one hand caressing the opposing tit whenever he was sucking on one, providing equal attention to both. You begin to play with the button of his black pants, desperately ready to have Jungkook completely inside you. Jungkook notices your lack of patience, deciding that just this time he’d give you what you want.
Pushing himself off you, he begins to unbutton his pants, your heart now beating out of excitement once you see the band of his black boxers. This was really happening. And though you’d seen Jungkook’s cock before, specifically with a woman having it wrapped inside her mouth, to see it this time around was definitely much more shocking than the first…. Was he always this big? The veins that run along his fair-colored cock only add to it’s intimidating appearance.
Pushing himself back on you, he sloppily kisses you all over, from your mouth to the side of your neck, slowly making his way downard. His cock teases the slit of your entrance, coaxing along the delicate folds of your pussy. Intertwining his hand with yours, he looks at you one last time, “You ready?” he breathes out.
Biting your lip, you slowly nod your head yes, his head then slowly pushing into your tight entrance, a groan coming from both of your lips, “God I fucking love you,” he breathily moans beside your ear.
“I love you too,” you whisper in return, his gaze never leaving yours as his cock tortuously enters you inch by inch, the grip you have on his hand tightening with every passing second, “Oh my god,” you whimper, his pre-cum along with your prior wetness making the push inside more bearable.  
It isn’t until you’re completely filled up by his cock that he slowly begins to move. Each and every deep thrust garnerning both whines and mewls from you, “Fuck,” he moans, his voice raspy from pleasurable sensation he was feeling. Somehow he manages to continue to plaster kisses all over you, his hands tightly wrapped around your waist as he continues to grind his hips against yours, making nothing but love to you.
Your hot walls now take him with ease, the small pressure you had originally felt having slowly faded away. He keeps his thrusts at a moderate pace, wanting to savor the moment.
“J—Jungkook,” you cry out, feeling your second orgasm coming as you wrap your legs around his waist. He begins to pick up his pace, “Faster,” you moan, remembering that he was definitely okay with having rough sex, considering how many times you’d have to hear other woman moan just how harder they wanted back in the beginning of last year. Who said he couldn’t do the same for you?
“Faster?” he questions, a certain spark now in his eye, “You sure?” eagerly you nod your head yes, too lost in the idea of your possible orgasm to think of the repercussions of your answer. Because soon you find yourself getting completely fucked out, the pace of his thrust becoming almost uncomparable to the pace he was going before, this time not caring at all for rhythm. By now you're sure that your different number of cries and moans could be heard from downstairs, but honestly you could give less of a fuck.
The sound of your skin slapping with his echo against the wooden walls, your eyes screwing shut as you felt your high come. His rapid thrust continuing as he fucks you into oblivion, “Just look at you, creaming on my fucking cock,” he groans, by now sweat was forming on the creases of his forehead, “and to think I get to have you like this all to myself, every single day,” he chuckles, the tight feeling in his abdomen signalling to him that his own release was coming.
“Cum in me Jungkook,” you whine, and with that he does, his white milky cum coating your walls from the inside and out. He admires the view in front of him, the sight of you completely fucked out with his cum dripping from the entrance of your pussy, wondering how he got so lucky.
Out of breath, the two of you cuddle with one another, your eyes half closed, ready to knock out at any moment. But before you do, Jungkook peppers one last kiss onto your cheek, mumbling a final “I love you,” ready for the new memories this year would bring for the two of you.
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a/n : ahhhhhh! finally finished with my finals so i was able to finally get this done! for some reason i sorta got attached to this couple, i think it’s because we got to see literally every month of their forming relationship so i just ended up really loving the dynamic between the two lmao. butttt all stories must come to an end :( and i’m very happy with how this story came out, but who knows maybe we’ll this couple again in the future. anywayssss like, reblog, comment, message me an anon or even directly! anything is appreciated (I swear im not a mean person) and ill see yall next time! 💞 
mini taglist: @ggukkieland​ @unicornbabylover​ 
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smoochkooks · 4 years ago
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—chapter four: white lies
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this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.
pairing: jeon jungkook/reader
genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, future smut
word count: 1.5k
summary: it came easy to you to lie. but with every untold truth, you were hurting more on the inside.
previous || next
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one year and 6 months ago
April was exceptionally moody that year.  
Every day you woke up to either heavy rainfall or a beautiful, cloudless sky. Alternatively, it could also snow for a couple of hours just to have it all vanish once the sun reappeared. As much as you loved Spring, you hated the capricious weather with passion.  
It was a normal, peaceful, Saturday afternoon. Saturday meant no classes to attend, no work to do on the side. It was just you in your small, cozy apartment, tucked underneath the blanket and binge-watching Attack On Titan.  
You were never an anime enthusiast per se, but you happened to befriend a doe-eyed weeb all those years ago. Your current occupation was just a part of the aftermath. It wasn’t like Jungkook was obsessed, not at all. He was actually far from it. Now, at the tender age of twenty-three, his old hobby was like a relapse. His love for anime was coming in waves every once in a while, gradually transforming into a two-months-long hyperfixation and then, it was nothing. And the cicle continued.
He was currently in the stage of re-watching Attack On Titan, hence why you had been forced to finally give the damned anime a try as well. Hell, he was even coming over tonight to have a marathon with you.
(He’d said that season three, his favourite, you had to watch alongside him.)
You: eren's annoying little shit  
Jungkook: told you so
You: but levi? damn I’d sell my soul for him  
Jungkook: for a 5’2 emotionally unavailable man?  
You: yep. that’s my type
It was far from truth. As much as you liked Captain Levi, he wasn’t Jungkook. You are my type, you wanted to write instead. There hadn’t been a man in my life who managed to even come close to you. But, as always, you kept those confessions to yourself.  
Right when you were about to play another episode, your phone buzzed again.  
Jungkook: I have a weird question  
You: I’m used to that  
You: shoot your shot.  
Jungkook: what’s your finger size?  
Confused, you read his last message once again. That was indeed a weird fucking question to ask, you thought. You had never really been a fan of rings. You only owed one - a gift from your grandmother she gave you for your sixteenth birthday. Rummaging thorough your drawer, you found it in a separate, black case.  
It still fit just right, so you took a ruler, measured the size and googled the results.  
You: it’s 7.5 I guess
You: why do you ask tho?  
Jungkook: I need you to go somewhere with me before our marathon if that’s okay
You: you didn’t answer my question  
You: but okay. what time?
Jungkook: ill pick you up at 5pm  
Jungkook: you’ll see  
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Maybe it was for the better he hadn’t told you where he was taking you. If you had know, you would have backed away last minute. Come up with so lame excuse, blame it all on a headache or period cramps.
If you had known Jungkook was taking you to pick up an engagement ring for Soojin, you would have never come with him.  
When you parked in front of one of the most high-ranking jewellery stores dowtown, the solemnity of the situation hit you like a whiplash. You took a deep, shuddering breath. Jungkook was thinking about marrying Soojin. Jungkook was going to propose to her, soon. He was ready to spent the rest of his life with her. 
Jeon Jungkook, the love of your life, was about to slip out of your reach for good. 
You couldn’t cry. Not in front of him. You clenched your fists so tight the knuckles turned white.  
“I figured out you could help me,” Jungkook said, breaking the silence and unbuckled his seatbelt. “I checked Soojin's finger size once when she was showering and then I found out that your’s the same and well, you’re a girl so you obviously know more about jewellery than me and–”
“Jungkook,” you cut him off with a dry chuckle. You didn’t want him to speak. You didn’t want to see him. You wanted to jumped off his car and ran away from that place as far as possible. “You don’t have to explain yourself. I get it.”  
You smiled at him with reassurance. It was actually hilarious, how you mastered the art of feigning your real feelings when you were with him. It came easy to you to lie but with every untold truth, you were hurting more on the inside.  
“I’m here, so you don’t have to worry about chosing something horrible.”  
He grinned and you noticed a dust of pink covering the apples his cheeks. It was hard, so fucking hard seeing him happy because that was all you ever wanted and yet it pained you not to be the main source of it. Jungkook was twenty-three and already so in love he wanted to get married. You were going to see him in a black tux, a prince charming waiting in front of the altar for his princess.  
It ached. Why did it ache to see him happy?
The lady who worked at the jewellery store greeted you politely with a bow. “What can I do for you?” she asked.  
“We are looking for engagement rings.” Jungkook answered.
You could tell she was a bit astounded but her professional smile never faltered when she responded with, “Oh, that’s still quite unusual to see the couple chosing an engagement ring together.”  
You were about to protest but then, Jungkook did something you would never expect him to do.  
He grasped your hand.
(It was warm. His touch was soothing. Comforting. Then why did it hurt so bad?)  
“My girlfriend wants to chose the ring herself but she doesn’t know when she will get it.”  
To make matters worse, he sent you a wink. The store’s clerk cooed at the scene and clasped a hand over her chest. For her it was yet another day at work, yet another pair of adults who had decided to get marry.  
“You make a really beautiful couple.” she said. 
Even Jungkook’s hand squeezing yours couldn’t ease the sting you felt hearing her speak those words to you. You smiled lightly for good measure. She then pointed at the display and gave you some time and space too look at the options.
Your whole face felt hot. Jungkook was still holding your hand, still playing the role of a perfect boyfriend. He didn’t seem to notice what kind of effect it had on you. He didn’t know how fast your heart was beating, how warm his touch felt on your skin. It was all just a silly joke to him.
He leaned closer to you, so the store's clerk couldn’t hear him. His breath tickled your skin. “You’re blushing.” he whispered.  
“Shut up.”  
He chuckled and let go of your hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”  
(No matter how much it hurt you on the inside, you already missed his touch.)
“It’s okay. Let’s chose my damned ring, shall we?” you proposed, mustering a nonchalant tone.  
Dodging uneasiness with humor always worked out, it seemed.
You felt odd and out of place standing next to him and staring at all those glimmering jewels. In the corner of the eye you saw the lady who worked there glancing at you from time to time and that was when you remembered you were supposed to act like a soon-to-be fiancée. 
“They’re all pretty.” you said to Jungkook. 
“Which one you like the most then?”  
You didn’t have to think long about the answer. The ring with an emerald stone caught your eye from the beginning. It was different than the others, definitely not a standard choice for engagement but something about its peculiarity made you want it to have it shinning on your finger one day.  
Except, you weren’t here for yourself. Jungkook wasn’t your boyfriend. You were helping him chose a ring for Soojin. And you knew exactly what she would like.  
So you pointed at the number thirty-two. A sparkling, white-gold ring with an oval-shaped diamond.  
Jungkook let out a hum. “It’s really pretty, yeah. Excuse me,” he called. “My girlfriend would like to try out this one.”  
You ignored the phantom pain you felt as you put the ring on. You flexed your fingers and just for a moment, you pretended it wasn’t a farce your best friend came up with. The diamond shone brightly just like the glimmers of happiness in Jungkook's eyes. He didn’t have to worry about Soojin's answer. He knew it would be thousand times yes.
You were good at pretending. After all, you had been practicing the art of it almost your entire life.  
So you drove with Jungkook to your apartment and listened to him babbling about his newest project at work. You made snacks, sat in front of your TV and spent the next couple of hours watching Attack On Titan. You cursed him for spoiling you a few bits of the show and Jungkook, like the petty Virgo he was, reminded you how you accidentally revealed him Little Women's ending because you had read the book years before.
As you laughed and bickered with him, you still remembered about the crimson box tucked in the pocket of his leather jacket, but you didn’t allow yourself to break. Not yet.  
It was only when Jungkook fell asleep around 1am that you stepped into the shower and let the tears flow.  
And a week later, when the dreaded became real–
Jungkook: she said yes!!!
A white lie was told to avoid hurting someone’s feelings.
You: I’m so happy for you, Jungkook!  
After all, the best you could do was give up your happiness for the sake of his own.
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racheloveyunho · 3 years ago
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Till Death do us part - 1
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Y/N grew up in a wealthy family, she always was seen as a beautiful and smart kid and was most likely to take her father’s place as the CEO of one of the most important companies in South Korea. However, after the death of her mother, Y/N’s family slowly started to break apart. Her father was always working to forget his uncalled pain while his kids were left alone at home.
She was 17 years old when her life took a sudden turn when she met him in a dark alley. He was a bloody mess, bruises everywhere but behind blood and dirt, she could see his beautiful features and his addictive gaze. Maybe she should have walked away, maybe she shouldn’t have helped him, but the moment his gaze locked with hers, she was already his.
Choi San was his name.
Genre: Mafia AU, angst, fluff, stranger to lovers
Words: 2486
 TW: Y/N is described as an OC. Please be aware that this story will contain a lot of triggering content such as smut, blood, death, murder, drug, kidnapping, etc. Do not read if you are under a legal age!
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Chapter 1
 I still wonder what would have happened if I didn’t meet him during this gloomy night? We were young and I was way too brave for my own good. Maybe it was my faith or maybe it was a sheer coincidence but now, I know that I will love him till death do us part.
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 5 years ago.
 "Hey Y/N, wake up sleepyhead! It’s time to go to school and I will surely not wait for the princess to wake up" my brother yelled loudly from the first floor, waking me up in the process.
I groaned and shifted uncomfortably in my bed; it was too much noise at such an early time of the day. My long-browned hair was messy from the last night, as always. I was the type of girl to move a lot during my sleep and my morning head was always a funny one, swollen, with small eyes and with some of my lightly curled hair stuck in my mouth. After five minutes of rethinking my life decisions, I found enough motivation to get out of my bed and walked down the stairs.
"Why the hell did I agree to help other students during holidays, huh?” I asked my brother as I lazily rubbed my tummy.
“Maybe because you are too dumb to say no to your teachers?” he answered, his mouth full of food.
“Do you mind keeping your mouth shut while you are eating? It’s disgusting.” I shook my head disapprovingly.
I headed toward the kitchen to get a cup of fresh milk. Jin, my brother, childishly opened his mouth wide to show me the content of it. I let out a long “Ew!” before smashing his arm playfully.
“No, but seriously Y/N. There’s no use to be brilliant at school if that means you have to help your classmates with their studies during holidays” Jin said after taking a sip of his coffee.
“Yeah, but the teacher who asked me this favor told me that he will write a recommendation for me if I agreed to help him” I answered.
“You don’t even need a recommendation, we’re from a rich family” Jin mumbled to himself but it was loud enough for me to hear it.
 He wasn’t totally wrong and I knew it. We were born with a silver spoon in our mouth. We were “cake eater” as the other kids used to call us when we were younger, we never knew what it felt like to run out of money and everyone at school was jealous of me because of that.
But they didn’t know. No one knew how hard it actually was for me and my brother.
My mother passed away 2 years ago, and since then, my father didn’t stay at home with us longer than a week straight. He was always working, working, and working again, his job had literally become his life. He was one of the richest men in Korea and still, he was always eager for more and worked every day and night for it.
He wasn’t a good father for me and Jin. He never made any compliments to us, all he was able to do was to pressure us to be as perfect as possible or at least perfect enough to not ashamed him and his reputation. Unlike my brother, I wanted to hear my father say that he was proud of me, just for once. That’s why I was trying hard to be the perfect daughter, with good grades, good manners, and good appearance but even if I tried my best, it wasn’t enough for him.
 “Do you know why I’m working so hard, Jin?” I asked him, voice as soft as a whisper, almost not daring to tell the truth.
“Why?” Jin put a hand on the top of mine, a sign of comfort since he already knew my upcoming answer.
“I don’t want to follow his rules forever. I’m still a minor so I had to stick at them but when I’ll turn 20, I will leave this house and will never come back” I sadly stated, “I want to marry a man I’m in love with, I want to do a job I like and most of all, I don’t want our father to commend my life.”
 Jin tightened his grip on my hand. He understood me, he understood me too well. We were indeed rich but we were far from being happy. Jin was 6 years older than me which means he was already an adult. He wanted to leave this house as much as me but couldn’t bring himself to do so and leave me behind.
Unlike me, Jin has never been a good student, he always has been considered a failure to our father, and even if he finally was able to run away from here, he stayed there for me. I was really lucky to have a brother like him and I was well aware of that.
 I took my breakfast and came back to my room to take a quick shower and get ready for this day I knew would be exhausting.
My brother was already waiting in his car. Jin took me to school as often as he could. He was working on a supermarket he owned and even if he was pretty busy, he wanted to spend his mornings with his “sweet baby sister” as he liked to call me.
I am indeed lucky to have a brother like him.
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 8 pm, it was already late when I heard the bell ring for the last time today. I was the last one to leave the class as I helped my teacher with the preparation of some material for the next day. It didn’t bother me too much, I wasn’t in a hurry to get home since I knew my dad was finally coming back home from his work.
In all honesty, I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t miss him at all, even after all this time. I wandered here and there even though the street was already pitch black.
 “Oh! It’s been a while since I last went to the haunted alley!” I happily exclaimed to myself.
I knew every nook and cranny of Seoul, I grew up there after all. My favorite place was the haunted alley. As its name suggests and according to some beliefs, that path would be haunted.
It was an old story I heard with my friends when I was less than 10 years old. A grandma from our neighborhood scolded us and told us not to stay there because there was a woman who had been murdered in the walkway and that since then, one could hear her cry every night.
A simple way to scare naïve kids you may think, and you are more than right. However, this story is known by everyone, not just by kids. That’s the reason why I love this place, thanks to all of these rumors, no one uses this path except me. It was like my secret place.
 I walked around the alley with heavy steps, thinking about my father and his upcoming lecture about how to be a good girl. My thoughts were suddenly stopped by the voice of two men who seemed to be fighting each other. I stayed still for a moment, trying to figure out where the noises were coming from.
“You piece of shit! And you claim yourself as the Boss” son?” One voice laughed.
I hid in the dark and saw what could have been mistaken with a scene from a horror movie. Between two old houses, a tall man was beating up a boy who seemed to be around my age.
I felt shivers down my spine but before I could even think straight, my body started to move with its own will.
“Hey! Let him go!” I shouted, my voice betraying me by showing how scared I really was.
 I moved closer to the two men, I could now see them more clearly.
The young boy was sitting on the ground, badly bleeding, whereas the tall man was standing in front of him, blood on his hand and his nose broken.
They were watching me. The silence was heavy, the only thing I could hear was the beating of my racing heart and the shake of my knees that were begging me to run away from this place. The silence was soon replaced by an ominous laugh.
“Wow. What a beauty! Is she your girlfriend? Huh?” The tall man laughed and hit the youngest on his stomach before coming closer to me.
He came closer, until he was in front of me. I had a better view of his poor state. He wasn’t less bleeding than the other man, his blood was actually covering his whole face.
I don’t know what had taken into me at this exact moment, the adrenaline was rushing in my veins and even though my feet were stuck on the ground, unable to move, my hand reached the pepper spray I always carried in my bag. Before the man could react, I used my weapon against him.
When the chemical product had reached his eyes, he screamed and placed his hands on his face, trying desperately to soothe the pain. I took advantage of the situation and kicked him as hard as I could on his crotch before he fell loudly on the ground.
I quickly grabbed the boy by his arm and helped him stand up. He was badly injured but followed me without any complaint.
 I was panting when I reached a lighted street. We stopped there, trying to catch our breath.  I turned around to face the man I was still holding and my breath hitched in my throat, not from the run I previously had but because of how beautiful this man looked.
“Are you okay? What is your name?” I asked him but he simply stayed silent, staring at me with his piercing eyes.
I took a better look at his features, he was really handsome with a well-defined face. He wasn't older than me but he hadn't the body of a teenager either. His broad shoulders and his arms muscles could be seen without any effort from him. His dark hair was harmonizing with the dark of his eyes and his dimples were visible as the border of his lips turned upright in an inviting smirk.
How can someone like him be involved in such a fight?
“The sight is at your taste?” he giggled, his smile spreading wider.
I finally took notice of my staring when I heard him laugh. I must say it was the most beautiful laugh I ever heard, slightly high-pitched but almost bewitching.
“I wasn’t staring!” I shouted from embarrassment. Fortunately, the darkness of the night was covering the redness on my cheeks.
“Sure, you weren’t” He added, amused by my reaction “I’m San. Choi San. I didn’t need your help earlier but thank you, I’m glad you rescued me”
He came closer to me and gave me a sincere smile, showing even more his dimples.
My heart was going crazy in my chest. This boy seemed small earlier compared to the other man but he was way taller than me, maybe 7 inches taller.
“You’re welcome”
I was a bit intimidated by him but I dared not to look away. He had something special, an aura that seemed as dangerous as comforting. His gaze was intense and deep, it was like he was looking through me, memorizing every detail of my face.
He didn’t move and didn’t talk for at least 2 minutes and even if I was feeling uncomfortable, I did my best not to let him know.
“Where is your house?” he finally asked after what felt like an eternity.
He startled me with his sudden question, I didn’t expect him to talk this soon. Why did he want to know where I lived? He probably wanted to walk me home and I would have gladly let this handsome guy walk me home if I hadn’t met him in an odd situation.
‘But he is really handsome…’  I thought, sighing softly, making San arch an eyebrow.
“It’s okay, I live near here, no need to walk me home. You can go ahead…” I said “Go ahead to…the hospital, your house or…go murdering someone…whichever comes first” I added, lowering my voice at the end of my sentence.
His face changed into a surprised expression “I wasn’t going to walk you home, don’t worry”
I sighed in relief even if I felt a bit disappointed, maybe he wasn't that bad after all.
“I want to stalk you” he stared at me with his beautiful smile as if it was the most natural thing to say.
‘What the fuck?’
“Sure, stalking me haha, it was obvious, silly me!” I gently hit my head and laughed awkwardly, taking a step back from him.
He laughed sweetly and took my chin between his thumb and his index to lift my face up. His mouth came closer to my ear and he whispered a small “Just joking” before turning his heels back and leaving me, alone, in the dark street.
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  I was finally back home. Fortunately for me, my dad hadn’t noticed me since he was already sleeping on the couch.
I quickly went upstairs to my room and collapsed on my bed, my mind still processing what had happened earlier. It was scary to say the least but fascinating at the same time. I was still confused even after showering. This San had a deep effect on me, not only mentally but physically too.
“Choi San…” I muttered before closing my eyes and drifting into a deep sleep.
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This is my first story, it’s bad but I’ll try to improve myself!
This series will be uploaded slowly since I don't have a lot of time.
Thank you for reading!
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bunnirs · 4 years ago
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Yandere! Gon and Killua with a S/O who tries to leave
Requested by: Anon!
“I don’t know if you do any yandere stuff but if you do I was wondering how would yandere killua and gon react to thier s/o trying to leave them for Accidentally Cheating. Thx love your blog”
First Gon and Killua request!! I’m so excited! For the sake of all things holy, ALL CHARACTERS WILL BE AGED UP A BIT. especially with the cheating thing 👉👈 UMM ALSO THIS IS MY FIRST EVER YANDERE TYPE THING SO IM SORRY 😭
Gon:
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Alright this dude doesn’t see anything wrong with the fact that he cheated
HE THINKS ITS NORMAL??
And to think you’d get so upset over him ‘cheating’ on you??
He would never! He was just being ‘nice’ to one of tourists of Whale Island
A little to nice.
He’s the type of Yandere that thinks what he does is completely fine! He thinks he’s doing the right thing!
So that’s where you had enough.
Gon was a lunatic and you had to get away
Maybe you’d call Leorio or Kurapika, they’d help you
That’s all you had to do
Get to a pay phone and dial Leorio or Kurapika
So while Gon had left to do God knows what..
You packed your shit and walked out the door
Surprisingly.. you got to the pay phone rather easily
Your paranoia had shot up with the risk of getting caught
Like 📈📈📈📈📈
You made the decision to call Kurapika. He was more serious with this stuff.
You waited for Kurapika until it was dark out
But he came all the same
But you hadn’t expected to see Gon right behind him
That’s right. Gon had said something about visiting Kurapika. Shit.
You were an idiot not to pay closer attention
Fuck fuck fuck he looks mad
His eyes were avoid of anything,,,
His soulless hues stared into your own, and you felt like you could throw up
Kurapika seemed rather worried, asking what happened while Gon was gone
You couldn’t tell him about Gon being a psycho
He wouldn’t believe you.. right?
You made the choice in saying that someone had tried to hurt you, and with Gon away, you didn’t know what to do
Kurapika sighed and said he’d get a hotel and would scout the island for any suspicious behavior,,,
But he didn’t know that Gon WAS the culprit.
Soon after that, you went home with Gon.
“....You lied to him, Y/N.” There was a pregnant pause before your name, almost like it was hard for him to pronounce. “You never lie.”
“...Gon....” You said quietly, not prepared for whatever the hell he was going to say.
“Is this about the woman?” Gon narrowed his eyes at his feet, which moved as the both of you took the road to his house.
“No I just-“ you went quiet, not knowing what to say. Make something up. Fast. “I just wanted to.. get away from the island a bit.”
“Get away?” Gon’s dark expression changed into one of confusion. “Do you not like it here?”
“No! I like it here!” You said abruptly, your eyes widening. “It’s just, I was thinking of visiting my parents! See what they’re up too!” You nervously laughed, praying he didn’t notice your smile faulter.
“...Oh well...that’s easy.” Gon smiled at you, and for a second, you thought you did something good. “They’re up to nothing.” His eyes darkened, his smile widening a bit.
“Nothing?” You questioned, confused.
“They’re dead.” Gon hummed. “They kept trying to get in my way.. so I put them out of their misery. They missed you a lot.. and kept saying I kidnapped you! Which isn’t true right?”
You didn’t say anything. Nothing at all. The only thing that escaped your mouth were the harsh sobs, which seemed to shake your whole body. You fell to the ground, the rough asphalt slicing your knees, the stinging couldn’t compare to the state your heart was in.
“...Oh..” His voice lowered, the slight evidence of worry laced his tone. “.....Can you not speak..?” He grabbed your hand, kneeling before you.
You smacked his hand away, falling onto your back. “G-get the hell away from me!” You screamed, your hands slipping on the bloodied gravel below you. You kept trying to stand up, but it seemed that gravity pushed against you even harder than before. “Go away! For gods sake just leave me alone!”
He stared at his hand for about a minute, his mouth wide and agape. “Leave.. you alone? While your upset?” He seemed hurt, his eyes swelling up, tears appearing. “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I left you like this! You’re hurting!”
“Because of you! I’m HURTING BECAUSE OF YOU!” You screamed in his face, somehow gaining the strength to sit up.
“.......I didn’t hurt you! I would never hurt you!” His voice gained in volume, almost like he was panicking. “I just did what was best for both of us!”
“You did what was best for you!” You shoved your finger into his chest, your nail almost bending due to the pressure. “You never think about me! You force me to stay with you! I never wanted something like this! I-“
“Shut up.” Gon said suddenly, shadow overcasting his facial features. “Everything I do is for you... don’t you dare say it isn’t!” His hand quickly grabbed your wrist, the sickening sound of bone being crushed seemed to echo in your ears.
“Y-you’re hurting me... right now... you’re hurting me..” you whispered, trying your best not to cry even more. Your head already hurt from the screaming, the pain adding to your desire to pass out.
“You don’t know real pain.” He said coldly. “But you’ll find out soon.”
That’s all you heard before you eyes seemed to close, your body falling forward into someone’s warm embrace, the air being knocked out of you.
“But everything I do... is for you.. Y/N.”
Killua:
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Thing is I don’t see him cheating :(
He’s so closed off as is, so it’s surprising he’s in love with you anyway!!
He’s definetly the Yandere who thinks that you need him
Like you’d be in danger without him
He’s definitely convinced himself that you’d die if you weren’t with him
And that makes him so friggin sad
He wants you to be happy
But he wants you to be safe first.
So, if you try to escape, that’ll make him even more broken inside
He’s a tragic yandere tbh
Wants to give you happiness and love, but he can’t let you out of his sight 😭
So you probably try to leave when he kills someone that was close to you
Probably a guy friend of yours
He felt like he was dangerous, and couldn’t have him taking you away
So he murdered him on the spot with a quick hand through the heart, his nails bloodied.
That was the last straw. You were living with a murderer.
How you would get out? You had no idea
You were in the Zoldyck Mansion. Locked away.
If anything, you could try talking to Canary. She liked you. A lot.
So that’s what you did. You told Canary everything.
She believed you almost immediately. She knew the Zoldycks were cruel... Killua included, no matter how much she liked him.
She’d try to smuggle you outside the gate
Hopefully the security guard would understand
That’s what got you here, standing from right inside the testing gate, Killua before you.
Canary was long gone. She had to stop the butlers from following you.. so you were alone.
“....What are you doing so far from home...?” He questioned, his eyes widened at the sight of you with bags in your hands. “It’s dangerous out here.”
“Killua, we’re inside the gate. You know it’s plenty safe out here.” You narrowed your eyes, nails digging into the leather holsters of your bag. You couldn’t back down now. “Besides, I can protect myself if need be.”
“.....Of course you can. I don’t doubt your abilities.” Killua rolled his eyes, his attitude returning to normal. “I wouldn’t date someone who can’t protect themselves.”
“....Then why don’t you act like that?” You felt a pang in your chest. He made it seems like you were weak.... He made it seem like you were helpless. Why would he do that?
“Act like what? Protective? I can’t do that?” He questioned, his defensive tone making itself clear.
“That is not what this is.” You countered, stepping back a bit. “You know this isn’t you being protective! You act like I’m fragile! Some glass vase that’ll break if someone pushes me to hard! I’m not! I’m a professional hunter just like you!”
“...You don’t act like it.” He pouted, shoving his hands in his pockets.
“How can you be so childish right now!? This is why I need to leave!” You stepped forward, your voice gaining in volume.
“...Leaving is a need? Are you sure you just don’t want it?” He stepped towards you, his voice getting low. He was definitely getting pissed off now.
“I haven’t been outside the gate in years Killua! You know how ridiculous that sounds?! Last time I interacted with someone from outside this gate, you fucking murdered them! He was my friend!”
“He was trying to hurt you!” Killua responded, his eyes darkening. “He was inviting you outside the gate! And by yourself no less! He could’ve hurt you!”
“Going out the gate isn’t a death sentence! I need fresh air Killua! I need to see people!” You continued to yell, throwing your hands up in the air dramatically, the bag in your hand almost being flung off to the side.
“You see my family everyday! They’re people!” Killua scoffed. “barely...” he muttered to himself, getting lost in thought.
“What if I don’t want to see your family anymore?! What if I don’t want to see you?!” You gasped right after the words left your mouth, hands covered your lips, almost in disbelief of what you had just said.
As your thoughts consumed you, you felt a slight pain in your abdomen, your body falling to the ground. Your bags cluttered around you, creating what ironically looked like a crime scene. He had just pushed you. That’s never happened before.
Killua stood above you, his eyes pulsating with dark intent, his aura covering for what seemed like miles. “....Don’t you ever say that!” He yelled out, tears almost appearing in his empty voids. “I might believe it one day! That you don’t need me anymore!” He grabbed the collar of your shirt, so his eyes could look into yours. “I can’t lose you like everyone else! Don’t leave me behind! I used to think you needed me but now I think it’s the other way around!” He cried out, tears threatening to spill. “I have to protect you with everything I have! I’ll continue to kill the people who try to take you away! So please don’t make this hard! I know you want to leave! I understand! But that can’t happen!”
You were quiet, your body feeling limp as he had hit a sensitive point on your body. “O-okay...” you muttered out, tears brimming the corners of your eyes. “I’ll stay.... I-“
Before you can finish, Killua hugged you tighter than ever before, knocking the air out of you. You felt like you could pass out, that feeling soon coming to reality as black dots filled your vision. He had somehow managed to manipulated you again. His worry getting the best of you.
Curse you for being so damn sympathetic.
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ktheist · 4 years ago
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heartbreaker of mine
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muses. jungkook x reader
synopsis. ah, here we are again. the overtold, cliche as hell story about two best friends who might or might not be in love with each other. except you can’t - wouldn’t dare to dream about being with jungkook.
alternatively, wherein you fell for the one who could break your heart.
words. 7.5k
universe. university / slice of life
warnings. mentions of physical insecurities; appearance, commitment issues
x
you should have known that in the absence of two of your best friends, nothing ever goes right when you decide to hang out. it isn’t the fact that you’ve known each other since diapers and basically know anything and everything about the other, that at some point you feel like your friendship is stale and need new additions - that’s where park jimin and kim taehyung comes in; a year older but several younger at heart, you couldn’t have imagined going through uni life with someone but them - but it’s the fact that realization hits you at the end of your final year that makes you drift apart. 
the fact of the matter is, you prefer the solitude of your room, the library of that one spot in the cafe that you’ve claimed as yours. and jeon jungkook prefers the blare of music, strobe lights and bodies grinding against him.
by your final year, as you receive a job offer at the company you interned in on your second year, taehyung is already working part time at the company he interned in, jimin thinking about that modeling offer he just got scouted for and jeon jungkook is getting daddies of the girls he’s having a thing with to get him to work at their office just so their daughter can see their favorite boy more - yours and jungkook’s friendship has dwindled down to mere silences as you wait for the other two to knock on the door and fill the place up with their endless bickering about whether dumplings are better than mochi.
 “shouldn’t you like, give me advice?” are the words jungkook said to you while you type away on your laptop, trying to do some light reading for tomorrow’s class before your mac gets confiscated for ‘pooping the party’ as taehyung likes to call it.
and you know what he’s talking about without even having preambles of the topic make its way into the conversation.
yet you still take off your glasses and set it down in your lap and ask, ���what could jeon jungkook possibly have not known and needed advice on?”
he scrunches his nose, not appreciating your sarcasm but humors it anyway, “you know,” he shrugs, as though shrunk into the sofa from either shyness or embarrassment - you don’t know, “on like, how to start being serious about life - and settling down.”
the silence that stretches is a stale one, filled with your blank stare and jungkook’s peering eyes - even at the age of 22, the stars still glimmer like they’ve been freshly plucked from the skies.
“you want me to help pick, out of the many job offers you got from your girlfriends’ rich parents, for you to do?” is your conclusion - though if you were 2 years younger and had a little bit more faith for the boy you basically called your twin, it would have been a good natured jest. but you’re older and jungkook isn’t exactly portraying characteristics of an upstanding citizen either.
“no,” his hair brushes against his brows as he shakes his head almost too eagerly - as though he saw that coming but still got upset and wanted to prove you wrong, “like how to start taking things seriously like settling down with someone and no, not with out of my many girlfriends - can we not call them that? it makes me sound like an ass.”
it takes you less than five seconds to digest his words, eyes drifting to the white screen of your mac for the sole reason you can’t bear to hold his intense gaze while you conjure up a response, “well for one, you are but there’s honestly nothing i can tell you that you don’t know already and there’s nothing i can possibly say to make you want to change - it has to come from you. or like, a professional that could help and if you think you need one, i’ll be with you all step-“
the brief scoff is what puts a rest to your racing thoughts while the smile on his lips put your heart at ease, “i’m not addicted to sex.”
“oh, okay.” is all you say, not seeing where the conversation is going as you watch the boy scratch the back of his ear, lips pulled into a pout - one way you know he’s trying to strum words into existence. and when he does, confused is an understatement to describe what your face is portraying.
“okay,  i’m saying if and if you’re looking for a husband, no, scratch that, would you even introduce someone like me to your parents?” but that’s the thing, you’re not confused because you don’t know where this is going but you’re confused because you don’t pretend to be oblivious.
but you’re also not a master at the art of heart-to-hearts and the gargantuan elephant that it brings. so you settle with a, “uh, i don’t know, you already know my parents, don’t know how i can reverse that and reintroduce you-“
“that’s not the point,” he blinks, the sight almost endearing as he freezes in his spot for a split second in contemplation of how to approach the matter and explain it to you who seem like you’re way off, “the point is-“
“i get it.”  you nod, arms crossing over your chest as jungkook’s wide eyes peers into you like a mixture of relief anticipation.
“you do?”
“you’re worried if your future partner will be insecure about the bodies you’ve seen before them,” there’s a knock on the door just as you’ve finished speaking.
as you get up to get up to answer it, knowing already who’s there from the obnoxious chatters - more like argument - you’re not sure if your brain is playing tricks on you or if jungkook’s shoulder line really falls as well as his face.
but the, “uh, yeah, i guess,” is what makes you push the image of dimmed stars and downturned pink lips to the back of your mind as you unlock the door, welcoming the two halfway-into-a-deep-quarreling men and their two bags of take-away roasted chicken, chips, mashed potatoes and whatever else they thought necessary to fill the game night with.
“thanks, shortcake,” taehyung smiles at you after you take a plastic bags off his and jimin’s hands and proceed to place it on the coffee table.
“tae, you’re literally taller than everyone,” throwing him a side glance, you shrug as you begin taking out the packed chicken wings and placing it in front of jungkook while taehyung helps with unpacking the add-ons from another bag, “calling me short isn’t exactly an insult.”
“i’m just saying we should demolish mint chocolate chips all at once,” jimin plops down on the couch adjacent to jungkook, “and no, we can’t let these savages go eating them - we need to educate-“
somewhere in the middle of jimin’s colonial-esque speech, you turn to the boy who’s never said a word since the two came in. not that those too needed an additional converse partner with how taehyung is advocating for leaving mint chocolate chip eaters alone and jimin staying with his stance that these people haven’t had a taste of all flavors in the world yet.
the way he seems to look at something past your shoulders tells you enough - he’s still deep in his thoughts about settling down, or changing or whatever. you don’t know why exactly he wants to change his heartbreaker ways but- “there’s nothing wrong with two adults having a - or multiple - consensual sexual relationship prior to finding their significant other. and if they have a problem with that then that’s something they need to work on, not you so no, i don’t think you should change anything unless you want to.”
x
it’s some days later that taehyung brings up the remnant of the conversation he overheard before the four of you began arguing about what movie to watch and ended up putting the fate of humanity in rock paper scissors. and so you tell him, without ever thinking of the one thing that spurred his ridiculous thought and the hesitance of pouring it onto you.
“don’t look at me, i’m not snitching.” jimin’s round, disbelieved eyes stares back at taehyung as though surprised the latter would ever think he’d do such a thing.
“okay but someone’s gotta tell her.” taehyung lowly mumbles, upper body turned to jimin, gracing you with his beautiful side profile - whoever gets to date him will forever be the lucky one.
“guys, i’m literally right here.” the sound of your voice warrants a turn of heads and a wide-eyed stare as though they’re seeing your ghost rather than your physical form that entered and picked a spot together with them.
it takes a moment for the elephant to settle somewhere in the corner and crush you with its invisible weight before taehyung turns to you, hand behind his mouth as he fake coughs into it. then, another moment for you to register taehyung’s words as you watch his mouth move and his gaze trained on you like a father teaching his daughter a life-lesson before he lets her out into the world. once his mouth stops moving and a second passes for you to take in the information, only two words leave your lips.
“you trippin’,” with a half-manic smile and brows knitted together, you look almost like you’re made for the asylum- but understandably, your admittance is overdue.
as your heart palpitate inside the confines of your rib cages and the scene from that night replays at the back of your eyes like a broken record - jungkook’s hesitant glance, the windows to his soul shutting tight with hesitance and the teeth that traps his lower lips as though his body is forbidding him to say whatever his heart and mind wanted - as much as it pains you to admit it, the signs were all there.
you just didn’t want to admit it.
that’s what pining over a best friend you’ve known for over a decade does.
the denial that comes after realizing you don’t want anyone else to touch jungkook when im nayoung stood on her tippy toes and pecked jungkook’s lips before running off with a flustered expression - you were both in elementary and jungkook was more into sleepovers with the abundance of plushies you had than hanging with ‘other kids’.
then comes the ugly head of self-loathing and guilt as you fixed park jihyo a smile as jungkook introduced you two. one, as his girlfriend and the other, his best friend.
both, in love with him.
it’s ugly and disgusting, jealousy that is. but you’re uglier for smiling and laughing with jihyo over the things you would with a best friend who’s a girl - there were things you couldn’t share with jungkook as a girl. but you’d let your eyes linger a second too on them as they shared a peck when he’d meet you too in front of the school gate after his extra class was over - you lost count of the times you wished you were her.
you carried the pathetic little mask of a smile to uni. by then, jungkook had broken up with jihyo. there was a lot of tears and consoling and empty words of assurance.
“hey, if you guys are meant to be, you’ll meet again someway somehow.” you’d fixed her an encouraging smile as your heart bloomed with hope for when you’ll get jungkook’s attention all to yourself once you start uni.
getting into the same one had been pure luck.
it didn’t bring you far though. jungkook started gaining attention for his friendly nature and bunny smile that attracted both males and females. it wasn’t long until he’s bringing you to parties where he’d keep you by his side because he knew you didn’t know most of these people. tried to get you involved in the conversation but there was nothing interesting about the dude who drank himself silly and woke up in front of an old lady’s door butt naked or about that girl who woke up a five minutes before class in a city an hour away from where her dorm is.
well, at least, none of them seemed like jungkook’s type. he never had a girlfriend throughout his years in uni though he had plenty of other experiences that makes you wonder what in the world he hasn’t tried yet.
being in a relationship, is probably the only thing he hasn’t done.
jungkook liked kind people. ones that didn’t point at a random person and say an offhanded comment and collectively laugh about it. someone that laughs and smiles a lot because and didn’t have a single bad bone in their body.
liked.
because you don’t know what kind of person jungkook likes now. but you never thought him asking a hypothetical question from what seems like another person's perspective about his lifestyle would be, as taehyung calls it-
“i’m telling you,” he slams a hand on the table, a loud pap! resonating in the air but he doesn’t seem bothered by the pain - if there is any - as his eyes bore into you, “that was jungkook shooting his shot!”
“i don’t know,” you take a sip from the metal straw of your matte black tumbler for the sake of doing something, “it doesn’t feel real but i can kind of see it?”
“take it for what it is, love,” the pull of his eyebrows together couldn’t have been more frustrating, “jungkook has every reason to have the fattest crush on you - i mean look at you, you’re funny, adorable and nicer than all his friends combined.”
jungkook has multiple friend groups he hangs out with. funny how you started out as duos and merged into a quadruplet and ended up being that friend group that jeon jungkook doesn’t really look like he fits in but he’s probably hanging out with you guys from time to time because you’d known each other the longest. or so word has it.
“that’s basically everyone who’s not his friends.” with an eye roll, you wrap your mouth around the straw. this time, for the sake of hiding the smile that threatens to bloom on your face as it is in your heart.
x
and that’s how you find yourself in more than one ‘don’t you dare’ moments. jimin has begun randomly pointing out something about your hair accessory to your clothes to your fucking strawberry printed socks. 
to prove a point, he said.
“hey beautiful,” oh, and he’s resorted to calling you all the adjectives in the world - but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t work in making jungkook’s face scrunch in displeasure for the briefest moment as he glances at jimin as though he’s an adjective away from beating the man into a bloody pulp, “nice shirt.”
despite knowing the comment is every bit staged - and probably doesn’t mean that your minnie and mickey mouse shirt is anywhere compliment-worthy, you still look down at the two mice, one kissing the other on the cheek.
the “uh, thanks,” couldn’t have been more dubious and skeptic.
and so begins jimin’s not-so-secret mission to bring jungkook’s attention to you.
“isn’t the stickers on ___’s mac cute, jungkook?” 
jungkook skims at the grizzly, panda and ice bears scattered across your mac before breaking into a smug smirk, “of course they are, i bought them for ___.”
you can almost hear jimin and taehyung high-fiving on the row behind you just as the professor walks in.
while jungkook seems to oblivious to it all, eyes trained to the display on the on the front, you allow yourself to indulge in the heat that seeps through your pores and warms your heart.
it’s not like jungkook stopped going to parties.
but finals season is almost upon you and he’s been hanging out with you more. sitting next to you in class while jimin and taehyung dozes off at the back. 
“they sleep in class just to spend hours on end studying at the library,” jungkook huffs, eyebrows knitting together adorably as he stresses over your two friends’ stamina for sitting in one place for six hours straight and only needing a bottle of water at their disposal, “i mean, why can’t they just focus in class so they don’t have to study a whole semester’s worth of syllabus in the last minute and drag us into it?”
the six hour mark ended and they’re out getting some snacks for you to secretly munch on until the library closes.
“i mean,” you begin, eyebrows jolting upwards at the more-than-obvious fact he’s supposed to already know, “you technically came here with your own free will, you’re free to leave whenever you want.”
another sigh hits the air as the boy slams his onto the book he has open in front of him, “yeah, but i need to study to pass and i needed you guys to push me,” he laments.
ever since then, there’d been far too many moments of where you’re stuck with jungkook to wait for the two non-time-abiding asses. at first, excuses like ‘sorry we’re late, we were getting mcdonald’s’ or some other poor fast food restaurants’ name that became the patsy, but they started dwindling to ‘oh hey, sorry, we didn’t notice the time’ and eventually a ‘hey, jimin’s got a meeting with a professor and he’s my ride so you guys go first’.
and before you know it, finals pass and you’re visiting your hometown while jungkook stuck around for a part-time job with taehyung whilst jimin drops off the face of the earth after having mentioned that he’s going on a family vacation at some private island with apparently the worst wifi connection ‘like ever.’
the two now-co-workers keep spamming the group chat with pictures of them in their uniforms, holding different drinks which they personally every time. when you’re staying over with your grandmother, it’s your turn to spam pictures of her great black cat who seem to only like sitting in her lap and glaring at you in every picture you take of the two watching tv together. almost as if he had a sixth sense when it comes to cameras.
“when are you coming back?” jungkook grumbles from the other end of line.
you’ve just got a shower and he’s just got home from a night shift. he’s probably haven’t even taken off his jacket yet when he proposed calling you like the sporadic times you both did throughout the break.
“i don’t know. i don’t feel like going back maybe even until the ceremony,” you confess, half-meaning it. the gardening, and saying hello’s to everyone you see while buying groceries because everyone knows everyone here, and the best-tasting cookies your grandma make, and waking up to her cat suffocating you in your sleep, isn’t so bad.
“i’m dying here,” he sighs, sounding more relaxed and probably lying on his bed now, “if i have to insist that i can’t ‘reheat’ coffee and can only make a new one and end up having to hide in the kitchen for five seconds to pretend like there’s a secret microwave only for coffees,” he says all in one breath before letting a suspenseful silence hang in the air and then finally revealing the next big thing he’ll do, “i’m seriously going to spit in their coffee while in the kitchen pretending to reheat it with an invisible microwave.”
the laughter that tumbles out of your mouth is probably ugly and you probably snorted a couple times but jungkook doesn’t seem to notice. or care as he keeps insisting ‘i’m really gonna do it’ whilst you end up laughing until your stomach hurts and tears begin to prick your eyes.
“is this the same regular that like, wants their coffee like super hot?” you finally manage to ask, traces of laughter still threatening to spill from your lips.
“yeah,” his sounds impressed, “how’d you know?”
“tae told me,” you make an incredulous face and shrug even though he can’t see, “you do realize you work at the same place, right?”
“yeah but i never see him talk about it in the group but i probably missed it-”
“oh no,” your hand goes up in a dismissive wave, “we talk on the phone and he told me about it.”
“you guys talk on the phone too?” there’s a strain in his voice, possibly out of surprise.
“yeah, like every day.” you say, tongue subconsciously lapping over your bottom lip.
“oh,” is all he says for the longest moment before chirping out the billion dollar question, “why aren’t we talking every day?”
“i don’t know,” your shoulder line rises, almost swallowing your neck as a war breaks out within yourself, “we did try at the beginning of break but you always had a party to go to so...”
“oh,” this ‘oh’ is a little bit dejected and perhaps hits a little different before he continues, “i don’t go to those anymore.”
this time, it’s your jaw that falls. your voice is small, almost as though cautiously teetering on tightrope as you ask, “...why not?”
“i just didn’t see the point of going anymore you know? once we graduate, i won’t even talk to these people anymore - but i wanna continue being friends with you guys.”
the ‘you guys’ meaning you, taehyung and jimin. the bros. the homies. it’s no secret that he probably sees you all as the same gender, not a guy nor a girl but just friends.
well. it’s not the first time jungkook’s friendzoned you.
“that’s great,” you can’t help but nod even though you know he can’t see you, “i wanna keep being friends with you too, jungkook.”
ever since then, you talk almost everyday. sometimes in three’s and when taehyung had a shift and jungkook got off his, it’d just be the two of you. and for the first time, in ages, it feels as though the ‘best’ in your friendship has somewhat reintroduced itself once more. jimin somewhat manages to get a connection somewhere along the way and the first thing he did was complain about the three digit number in a red bubble in the corner of the message app and then managing to get one picture of him in flowery trunks, and a baby monkey eating a banana perched on his shoulder with the beach in the background before disappearing for the rest of the month until two weeks before the graduation ceremony.
“so like, do you have anyone to pick you up?” jungkook asks from he other end of the line. he sounds more free since it’s the last day of his job.
“yeah,” you announce, attentiveness laced in your tone for your next words might be indicative enough, “my sister.”
“what.” he drags out the word in a disbelieving tone and it’s no secret why he’s doing that- “i haven’t seen you in ages! and you’re going to your sister’s? wait - this isn’t like a permanent thing right? we’ll get to hang out before the ceremony, right?”
it takes you a moment to register the series of questions he bombarded you with and before you know it, the silence has already turned your voice into a small and guilt-ridden, “um, yes and no?”
a groan.
“i haven’t seen seulgi in forever too and she kept nagging me to visit her during break but i never did so now she has like a whole week’s worth of itinerary planned out for us to do before the ceremony,” the excuse trickles out of your mouth hurriedly, “jungkook, i have to do this, or the next time we’ll meet it’s at my funeral and you’ll be talking to my dead carcass before they bury me.”
it takes a moment of anticipating silence before he grumbles out a “fine. but after that, you’re staying over at my place.”
“okay but i mean if we’re having stay over’s wouldn’t tae’s place be better since he has a whole ass apartment for himself?” you’re at that point where you’re discussing stay over arrangements before actually consulting the owner of the place.
“i guess,” his voice is a little lower and smaller but it revives at the mention of the new pizza place that just opened before you decided to invite the other two in the call to make plans to visit there.
when the day finally comes for you to don the royal blue robe and cap, you do so with barely enough grace and composure for someone who’s about to receive her blood sweat and tears on a stage all because you and your sister are - this must be karma for shading taehyung and jimin for being - a bunch of non-time-abiding asses.
the double doors are almost closed as you struggle with not tripping on your high heels whilst trying to keep your hair out of your face.
“where have you been?” you almost didn’t recognize the golden man who tapped you on your shoulder from behind.
“jimin! you made it!” is the first thing you say.
“rich coming from someone who barely got to her seat in time,” he gives you a once over and you’re not quite sure what he sees because your back which he’ll be looking most at is clad is oversized blue robe. but despite that, you reach out to give his hand a squeeze and he takes it with just as a tight, ‘we made it’ kind of squeeze before you turn to the chancellor that’s beginning his speech.
you’re not sure which row jungkook is at or if he even sees you and you read taehyung’s ‘i feel like a proud momma’ text because his major adds another year to his studies than you, jimin and jungkook.
the ceremony goes on without a hitch and you’d like to believe your picture is as perfect as your make up which your sister claims to be ‘out of this world!’ - only because it’s her that did it.
“so you guys talk everyday?” jimin pulls you into him, a smile gracing his beautifully tanned skin as he steals a glance at something behind your shoulders - possibly jungkook whom you saw was being swarmed by his friends to take pictures with.
“yeah, i guess,” you casually say with a shrug.
“it’s true, i was there,” taehyung comes up next to you, replacing jimin’s arms with his in a side hug.
“man, i really wish i witness it all,” jimin grumbles, “but the connection on that island was shitty.”
“i’m sure you connected in different ways,” the taller man adds, a strain in his voice which the shorter doesn’t seem to notice as he try to wave off the belatedly relayed fact that his family is a different kind of family.
like the kind that invites sex workers and other business colleagues alike to enjoy themselves for as long as they wanted, as long as the park family was there.
“okay but how long is he going to take?” jimin quizzes, eyebrows soaring whilst you and taehyung follow his gaze to the growing size of people a few feet away who clearly look like they’re here for a photoshoot than a simple graduation ceremony, “my parents kinda skipped work to see me go on stage and get a piece of paper they paid a lot for so i kinda want to get the family pic done before i go to my second family...”
time doesn’t seem to stop like they do in the movies. it happens all too fast, in fact - jimin’s voice fading into the background, the countdown of the person taking the picture of the group of graduates jungkook’s in starting from three, two, one! and a girl with the prettiest curls that seem to bounce as she turns around and stick her tongue into jungkook’s mouth.
it must have been your uncanny silence that draws the attention of the two boys and a ‘oh shit...’ from one of them - you’re not sure who even though taehyung and jimin has two distinctly sounding voice.
all you’re sure of is the involuntary movements of your feet as they carry you away from the scene. your eyes are dry but that’s probably only because your brain hasn’t registered what exactly happened though deep down, you’re perfectly aware of the fact that those daily calls, the spams of good mornings and randomly sending each other selfies were nothing more than exchanges between two people who were onlu ever connected through a childhood bond that got translated into best friendship just because there was no other name for knowing someone for so long even though you probably stopped being friends first year of college.
“___! wait!” someone calls for you and you wish it so badly to be jungkook but you know better than to expect for the impossible. a modern day fairy tale.
“hey, don’t cry. jungkook’s a fucking dick,” the tall stature that finally caught up to you and trapped you in his arms, whispers. gentle, understanding and pitiful.
it’s not just the comforting warmth, it’s also the hand that’s rubbing your back that you know is probably jimin’s that makes you break out into your first sob. whilst the day isn’t exactly free of tears, those who did shed them did it out of gratitude and a sort of ‘i did it’ kind of relief but not you.
today, your cheeks are marred by the excruciating pain of a heartbreak. you might as well tear your chest open, take out the beating organ and hand it over to jungkook so he could crush them with his own two hands.
maybe it’d hurt less.
somewhere amidst your fit, you choke on your laughter as you catch the two bickering.
“that’s not how you comfort a crying lady, taehyung, what the fuck?” jimin doesn’t hold back with his colorful words.
“what? what did i do?” the taller man sounds all the more confused but still pass you on to the shorter one like a gift basket when a hand pulls you into another pair of arms.
a hand patting your head as jimin murmurs, “there, there, you’re going to be okay, sweetie,” he hugs you just a tad bit tighter as though to say i promise, “you’re young, you’re beautiful and you just graduated with honors. in five years you won’t even remember your little crush for jungcockhead.”
you would have laughed if not for the shadow in your periphery stopping dead in its trek just a few feet away from you and close enough to hear every word jimin uttered in his attempt to placate your rising desire to flee the scene.
“what?” even a simple syllable is enough to tell you who the voice belongs to. perhaps it’s because you’ve heard it in real life and on the phone countless times and countless more during the span where he worked sporadic shifts and you were gardening and getting scratched by your grandmother’s cat that you tried relentlessly to befriend.
“nothing, jungkook.” you wish it was you who said it but it’s jimin who’s hugging you tighter like a mother comforting their heartbroken child, “why don’t you go back to your girlfriend and stick your face where it’s actually wanted?”
almost as though physically slapped in the face.
with a brick.
jungkook’s shoulder line jolts as he flinches, brows knitting together as you can almost see the rewind of the moment your heart gets split in two. she has the prettiest, softest tanned complexion, luscious curls and body that fits the definition of a glowed-up.
he takes one step forward but stops when you shrink into jimin’s arms, almost as though seeking protection. but it takes everything in you not to run to him and make up an excuse about feeling hot and stuffy and that being the reason you left, when the crestfallen expression mars his otherwise ever-smiling features. 
“that wasn’t what you thought it was-” you could almost swear he chokes at the end of his words but the pause is too short to tell, “i left her as soon as i saw you running off.”
“oh my god, cut the bullshit! this isn’t the first time and this won’t be the last. don’t talk to ___, don’t even look at her, douchebag,” the rumble of jimin’s voice vibrates against you as he pokes taehyung in the rib, making the boy cry out in pain.
the assaulted man has half a mind to ask for further instructions when he turns to you and jimin but decides against it, squaring up his shoulders and placing a warning hand, “just leave, man. ___ clearly doesn’t wanna talk to you right now.”
“ever.” jimin half-shouts.
those deep brown eyes search for yours as though holding on the last strand of what you call best friendship - hoping, wishing that it isn’t true. but as soon as they find your puffy eyes, you throw your gaze to the ground, finding the crack in the asphalt in a better state than your heart.
you can only imagine jungkook’s face falling at your refusal to affirm the strength of years’ worth of friendship. because the fact of the matter is, you’re not so sure if you want to keep pretending to be oblivious as he wraps his arms around another person and kiss them like he means it.
x
“___,” the bed dips as you feel the weight of the blanket get yanked off you. seulgi’s sweet peaches perfume filling your senses, “get up, it’s been days since you had an actual meal.”
“i’m not hungry,” you grumble against the pillow just as your stomach starts making the most monstrous sound ever existed in history of mankind.
“yeah right,” she scoffs but her hand on your arm is warm and soothing, “come on, please eat something - i’m saying ‘please’ here and you know i never say ‘please’. people say ‘please’ to me.” 
you can’t help but laugh at that. seulgi’s never truly begged anyone for anything in her entire life. she would have asked once and left you be until you were done moping around over jungkook getting with jihyo. it was after you did get over your first heartbreak, did she get you ice cream and you’d spent the night in her room with fairy lights and forts, watching the notebook.
“don’t let a boy hurt you like that again, ___, promise me.” she held up a pinky, and yours felt like a ton of weight just dropped over you.
in the end, you hooked your pink with hers and made a promise of sisterhood.
but she hadn’t been there when you needed your off days in college when rumors started spreading about jungkook and a different girl every week.
the wounds to your ever bleeding heart don’t heal. but you got used to picking yourself up and you got better at that with that one class you failed, that one presentation you blew, the humiliating mistake you made in front of your supervisor and every time after that. seulgi had her own ways to deal with problems and you had yours - or maybe patching yourself up after a fuck up was more of your forte.
who knows?
“what’s for dinner?”
“really?” at your inquiry, the face you thought would light up like a christmas tree - doesn’t. if anything, she bites her bottom lip just like you just caught her red-handed for doing something you probably won’t like.
“what?” you ask plainly, at this point, you won’t even be surprised if she said the sky is falling.
it’s not.
but her next words are far more foreboding than the end of the world, “look, jungkook came over like he always did everyday since that day and today i wanted him to stop coming for good so i told him if you at least have the energy to get some food, i’d let him see you,” her eyes glimmer with a sort of remorse that you can’t even hold her against.
“then can’t you tell him i still don’t wanna eat?” is what you say, completely unperturbed or rather not registering the fact that your best friend whom you’ve been in love with for as long as you can remember is in your sister’s living room because he probably heard about your hunger strike. 
but the only problem is, he’s not in the living room-
“he’s right outside the room. i told him he can stand there and see for himself how bad he fucked you over so he’ll feel bad enough to leave you alone.” she says in a hurried whisper, eyes glancing to the half-agape door every second.
a spark lights up inside you, like smolders blown by wind and flares into flames, “seriously? you couldn’t talk to me first about it?”
her eyebrows furrow as her mouth opens and closes for a moment before she confesses, “...i didn’t think you’d say yes to lunch.”
“whatever just-” you tear your gaze away from your sister’s involuntary puppy eyes just so you wouldn’t end up clawing them out yourself, “...just go, seulgi.”
for the longest yet briefest moment, the only thing you can hear in the room is your steady breathing. the flame still burns but it doesn’t flare into a raging fireball. and you know full well it probably isn’t easy for jungkook to pass to through the door after having heard how you reacted when you found out he’s just outside.
when he does, he doesn’t even hide the way his doe eyes shine with something you can’t pinpoint as he takes you in. all of you. with your mused, oily hair and three day’s worth of hoodie and puffed eyes.
“hey,” he murmurs ever so softly, the bed dipping where seulgi sat.
you echo the same greeting back but with a hoarser voice compared to his velvet one.
“so, what do you want for dinner?” he begins, cautious eyes finding yours.
“i don’t want it anymore,” is all you say as you shrug casually.
“oh.” he sounds fragile. nothing at all like the self-assured jeon jungkook you’ve come to know.
silence fills the room like a big, blue elephant. seconds stretch on into minutes and you find yourself leaning against the headboard, drawing invisible patterns over the sheets while jungkook-
you don’t know what he’s doing. he could be fiddling with his fingers like how 10-year-old him would whenever you met at your favorite spot after a fight. but you’re both no where near 10 and if there’s any traces of the boy you once called your best friend, it’s probably only his appearance that’s never really changed.
either way, you don’t dare to even steal a glance his way.
“i like you too.”
the words hit the air like a drop of water that vaporized faster than what science dictates it too. you almost thought you were hearing things if not for the way he looks at you. as though waiting for something. anything.
“i...” you trail off before shaking your head, almost as though coming to your senses, “i can’t do this.”
jungkook laughs awkwardly, hand scratching the back of his head, “yeah, i understand - i’m sorry i- i just wanted to make sure you’re fine and then i got carried away- i should leave.”
but before he takes a step towards the door, you call for him, “jungkook, wait.”
“i’m leaving for japan in two days,” you finally let the cat out of the bag.
“what?” comes out a second later - you don’t dare to look up from your hands to see what kind of emotion he’s making.
but he at least deserves an explanation, “for the longest time, i feel fucked up because i get so jealous of the girls that dated you...” taking a deep breath, you continue, “but i know it’s because i think i’m not enough-”
“you are - you’re more than enough,” the interjection is what makes you look up involuntarily, if not to confirm it yourself - the knitted eyebrows and heartbroken gaze proves it and then the sinking realization settles in, “but you don’t believe me.”
you shake your head, a bitter smile on your lips, “i’m not enough for me and that’s something i have to work with.”
“by running away?” his voice rises to the ceiling, confusion and frustration pooling in his eyes.
“by finding myself,” you correct, “you know like how people go to a different country and come back a different person except i’m hoping to find that person.”
“in japan,” he sounds like he’s a word away from hooking you up with a specialist - not that you haven’t thought of one but-
you laugh and he looks at you like he’s stuck in the middle of a never ending maze, “my mom’s planning to visit my aunt in japan and since i’m officially unemployed i guess, i’m tagging along.”
“oh,” his shoulder line sags as he sighs in relief, “so like a vacation.”
it tenses back up when you say, “i might look for a job there.”
“you’re permanently moving to japan?” jungkook’s body seems to be here but his conscience seems to have flown out - probably to japan.
you want to laugh but it doesn’t seem like a proper setting for it. especially when you’re confessing to your crush that you like him but also subtly admitting that he’s partly the reason you’re leaving the life you know for a new one. and you might not even do it willingly.
“i might find a job with a branch company in korea - work there for a year and then transfer here,” you shrug, “i don’t know.”
“i-is this because-” he starts but you shake your head.
“yes and no?” you say, “none of this is your fault but i’m projecting my frustrations onto you and this isn’t healthy... i need- i need to go away for awhile and figure myself out.”
and that’s how jeon jungkook finally comes to the realization that nothing’s been the same. you haven’t been the best friend you prided yourself to be for a long time and that best friend completely disappeared in second year of college after he started spending nights at parties and only lunches with you. until eventually, you’re stuck in a habit - a cycle that you can’t break from until something dramatic or life changing happens.
and so it goes, he sees you off at the airport with taehyung and jimin. unsure of whether they were still friends after they’d deliberately stopped him from running after you on your graduation day, they were the first to approach him. they understood that it’d only be worse if he chased after you but they didn’t hate him - dislike him at times when - as they called it - he was so damn clueless, yes but they didn’t hate him. and that was a relief.
nothing major changed. he moved in with taehyung and jimin and even got a job at the same company as jimin. you went off radar but still kept in contact every once in awhile - it was like that time jimin went to that private island except you had all the reception you needed, just not the time to text as much as you used to.
job hunting was tough and he understood the competition. when you got a job, you were plagued with a newbie’s role, having to do overtimes to finish up work that was piling before they gave you that position.
then one year turned to two and two years turned to three. jungkook became a manager while jimin took up the position as a secretary in their rival company - it’s funny because everyone at the office would shit-talk him and they would make fun of those people as they drink into the night.
jungkook lost contact with most of his party friends - they were great with hooking him up with a potential client but besides that, he was basically living the workaholic life with his two apartment mates as his only source of social interaction outside of work.
from meetings to gatherings to meetings and then private dinners with clients. the cycle goes on until that one evening where arrives at an invites-only event.
“jungkook, come here,” the director gestures him over and because there’s a server blocking his view, he only notices the girl standing in front of his superior, when he’s finally by his side.
“...a hardworker - every project he’s ever handled hits the internet like a boom!” the director was saying.
“ah jungkook,” the man taps him on his shoulder but he can barely feel it when his eyes are trained on you, stunning in that deep toned dress and new hairstyle, “meet ___, you guys will be working on the twin tower project together.”
x
“so you’re back for good?” he asks when you’re finally alone, lingering at the balcony and away from your superior’s eyes.
“not quite - i still have to fly to japan every week,” you shrug casually.
“oh,” he nods.
“you look great by the way,” he adds a moment later, scuffing his foot against the floor.
you can’t help but giggle at how boyish he is, even at the age of 25, he still acts like a child, “thanks - you don’t look half bad yourself.”
he echoes a “thanks” as well before throwing his gaze over the magnificient view of the cityscape. artificial lights from the buildings appear like stagnant fireflies. it’s sad that they’re the reason you can’t see stars anymore.
but fate is too cruel.
because hoseok, your partner is calling you over - a couple of middle aged people standing next to him, smiling that mechanical smile that isn’t any different from your business smile.
“i gotta go,” you sigh but shoot him one last melancholy smile, “i’ll see you this monday?”
“yeah, see you this monday.” jungkook smiles a smile that says he’s not so sure where you stand. colleagues. ex-best friends. acquaintances?
with a wave goodbye, he watches as you strut to the couple, transforming into a woman so sure of every gesture, even a smile and a throw of your head back as you laugh. everything you do, every movement you make is mesmerizing. 
and he knows he’s not the only one who thinks so as he watches your partner gaze at you with eyes that doesn’t seem to see anyone else but you. laughs at something you say as if he’s completely enchanted.
jungkook turns around, hand propped on the railing as he takes a sip of the wine he’s been holding. without realizing it, a smile slips onto his face, he makes a mental note to check your company’s dating policy.
most forbid office romances anyway.
x
note. i’ve had this in the draft for forever! and thought i was never gonna finish this but i somehow got a burst of inspiration yesterday and here we are! hope yall enjoyed!
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razrbladekiss · 3 years ago
Text
Tyrants | Chapter Five - Consolation
WORD COUNT: 5.8k
WARNINGS: Mentions of murder, grief, the aftermath of that death...all that Jazz! Plus a lil moment I’ve been fucking itching to include.
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Chibs's breath was stuck in the middle of his throat, jutting thickly the more he thought about Opie cradling Donna's sallow cheeks as she bled out onto the gravel.
It'd cut deep, this one.
So many bodies he had bared witness to over the years. So many lives lost and souls snatched and whatever else right before his undaunted eyes--but nothing really hurt as much as that.
Because he knew what it was like. How it maimed a man. How it felt like his world was hurtling toward the chasms of hell during the moments after arriving at the scene and seeing his wife there. Dead.
Cold and dead and lonely. And completely gone.
Guilt resided, too. It was true tangible remorse for the simple proficiency of; that should've been me.
It happened with Diane--it happened to Chibs's wife, the mother of his kid, and the one true light in his life right after Isla. And it should've been him.
It was brutal, the way it happened tonight. It was fierce and heartless and Chibs knew in a flash that those bullets struck the wrong skull.
He couldn't bear the reverberation anymore, the gutturals from Piney's son who'd just lost his wife for no good reason during a drive-by in their quaint little town. The town that'd swelled wickedly with corruption these last few weeks.
Stahl was at the scene before he left. Looking pensive, actually. She looked guilty.
Chibs's basic instinct had landed the blame at her door--put the blood on her hands--but he kept his mouth shut for fear of what'd happen next. He didn't think that SAMCRO could handle this.
Because this wasn't a product of Mayan or Niner rivalry. He wasn't stupid--he knew that his President had something to do with this.
This was cultivated from the seeds sown by June Stahl, the pips planted so very deeply into the mind of Clay Morrow which forced him to believe that Opie Winston was a rat.
And he wasn't. He'd never sell his club out--no matter the damage, the pain inflicted upon him--and he'd never dream of pinning the fault on his brothers.
But he had to look a little bit closer to home if he wanted those answers. If he wanted to know just who sniped Donna--a completely innocent woman caught in the most ferocious of crossfires--he had to turn to someone that he knew was culpable of such activity.
Chibs's heart ached. It impaired him so very deeply that the only thing he could visualize on the ride back to Jax's house was her face.
Her face that dripped blood. Saturated crimson plagued his thoughts and forced his stomach to churn vociferously. He felt sick now.
He felt sick because Opie had lost his wife, Piney had lost a crucial member of his small family, and her kids had lost their mother. The woman that had worked so tirelessly to provide a life for them, to love and care for them unconditionally no matter what.
Opie was strong, he knew that--but he didn't know if he was strong enough to handle this. This crippling weight, this hurt and the idea of what could've been done differently.
Because so much could've happened to prevent this.
His tongue had become inoculated with bile, acrimonious ire for whoever the fuck was to blame for such unnecessary brutality--and, really, Chibs knew that he didn't have to look much further than Isla's favorite blue-eyed heathen this time.
And that broke his heart because of the pedestal she held that man upon. The pedestal she'd always held him atop, so fucking highly, too.
She knew that he was bad--an inherently bad human being--but he was just Tig. Her buddy. Clay's right hand that, really, he'd always count on. No matter what. And he'd always deliver the king's request, too.
Tig was the one that Isla called when her car broke down on the freeway and she needed to get home in time for Gemma's dinner.
The one she turned to for cheering up because he always knew how to crack a smile and get through to her.
The one that she strangely respected the most. Nobody really recognized what it was about that man that had Isla overjoyed when in his presence, she just was. And that was part of his charm.
But her father was anxious, now. Worried that she would take this news--if it came to light--badly. Because it was going to break her heart, regardless.
It was how she would handle it, which was the true hardship.
"Christ." Chibs's voice struggled to materialize, gesturing to his daughter passed out on Jax's couch. "How long's she been sleepin'?"
Mascara and eyeliner and whatever the fuck else she'd painted onto her face had started to melt away, trails of black and grey faintly running her cheeks.
"'Bout an hour." Gemma responded, sniffling back the putrid emotion she'd so obviously let flood the moments leading up to their arrival.
Jax's stomach was doing backflips at the thought of Isla crying herself to sleep in his living room--after everything that he'd put her through, too.
He feared that this was going to be the tip of the iceberg. That this was going to pulverize her sanity and compromise everything she had sought to fight off these last few days.
And he couldn't help but harbor those same suspicions as her father, either. Jax wanted to keep his mouth shut until he was certain that this was an inside job, but he was teetering toward that conclusion regardless.
It was the only viable explanation.
He, too, worried about what this would do to her. That finding out Tig was the potential culprit and reason why Opie's children were officially motherless.
"How's Ope?" She continued, already knowing the answer but asking anyway. Jax's head shook. "Oh."
"Not good, ma. But he's home now."
"And you're sure of that?"
"Yeah--I followed him back to make sure he got there in one piece. He wanted to leave the second the fuckin' ATF stormed in."
"Oh." Gem repeated herself, running her fingers through Isla's hair as she rested in her lap. "What about Clay? Where'd he get to?"
Chibs took a seat at one of the wooden chairs that'd been positioned around the coffee table, and Jax sank into the couch opposite the girls.
It was pitiful. Darkness enveloped them as Isla slept, innocently resting as the world shattered around her.
She wasn't oblivious to the happenings. She hadn't slept through it all, but she was done. Isla had been distant for days, had been fretting over the unimaginable and Gemma was worried that she was going to make herself sick if she continued the way that she was.
So she twisted her fingers and nails through the flowing waves of golden blonde, and soothed her the same way that she always did.
The same way that she found comfort as a kid.
He sighed. Exhausted. "Dunno. Last I saw he was with Tig."
"Aye." The Scot agreed with a nod, too. Hating the thought of Trager being responsible for something like this.
But it was merely a suspicion that Chibs hoped and prayed would get debunked sooner or later.
"Did he say anything?"
"Nah. He talked a little to Unser--seems to think it was a hit on Ope gone wrong--so, I guess they're gonna be lookin' into the Niners."
"Aye." Chibs spoke again, gesturing to Isla. "Did she say much when we left?"
"Not really--she just busied herself and cleaned up with Wendy. Seems like they're getting along now."
Jax smiled a bit, happy that his best friend and the mother of his child were starting to accept the presence of one another in Abel's life.
Truly, that's all he really wanted. That and his mother finally being able to turn the other cheek, and quit castigating his kid's mom.
"Did Clay leave before you?" Gemma asked, antsy. She was itching to get home, itching to see and comfort her husband because she knew that he was going to be fretting over this.
"I told you, the last I saw, he was with Tig. Dunno if he left after us, or if he's still there."
She looked away, smoothing her thumb over Isla's cheek.
"He'll be home soon--I should take off."
"Not on your own." Jax upheld, simply terrified of what could've happened to his mother had she left alone.
As far as Jax wanted her to know, this was bad blood between clubs. This was a hit put out on an innocent bystander because they knew it'd jolt SAMCRO--and it did.
It shook them to the very fucking core, jutting them repeatedly--mere moments away from crumbling and completely disintegrating into Harley Davidson dust.
And he really didn't want to admit that this was the work of his step-father and Alexander Trager. But he feared that was the only viable explanation.
"I'll--eh--I'll take her back." Chibs offered, getting up to ghost a hand over Isla's blushed cheek. "I was gonna take her home with me tonight, but I think she's better off stayin' put."
Jax agreed with a nod, smiling weakly at his mother. Though, she knew it was a coverup. A not-so-brilliant facade and attempt at showing that he was okay during this barbarous time.
"I don't wanna wake her." She mused, pushing strands of hair from her face. "She looks so damn peaceful."
Gemma hadn't a cozy moment with Isla for a while--not since she was recovering from a broken heart four summers ago.
The last time that she turned to Gemma--the same way she would as a child--for that motherly comfort.
"I know." The older man crouched to the ground, tracing faintly along her arm. Isla grumbled, slowly rousing. "C'mon petal, it's gettin' late."
He kept a hand against her, running this thumb over the freckled skin softly. Diane's crucifix caught his eye as she shifted, impairing him that little bit more tonight.
"What time is it?" She asked roughly, feeling a sting in her throat. Isla lifted herself off of Gemma's lap, rubbing at her eyes. "Is it late?"
"It's about one o'clock."
"Shit." Her hiss was sharp, galled that she'd been allowed to rest for so long whilst there was a literal wildfire sweeping its way through the club. "Ope--oh my god--Opie. Is he okay?"
Isla knew the answer. She knew what Jax was about to say before he even opened his mouth, and so tears ensued. Crystalline hues weeped and watered, and he was unsettled.
Unsettled because she was so strong in the face of such tragedy, rarely shedding any tears before an audience.
Unsettled because, up until the Kohn incident, Jax hadn't seen her cry since she was shot in the knee after three Mayans decidedly stormed the T M lot and strived to gun down each and every person on the premises.
He never forgave himself for that, actually. Because those bullets--though completely un-fatal and leaving a simple mark that, really, Isla referred to as her battle scars--should've been for him.
"He went home. To be with the kids." Jax cleared his throat, kneeling in front of her when Chibs got to his feet and gestured for Gemma. "He's--uh--he's in a bad way."
"Understandably." She mumbled. "Any ideas on who did this?"
Your favorite son.
"No. Clay thinks it might've been the Niners--shits been off since they decided to pull their fucking guns on us after the warehouse was raided."
"That was their rationale?"
"I guess so." He added. "It'd make sense. We lost their guns, so we lost a life--"
"But Donna." Isla argued, sitting upright. "Donna was innocent."
"We know that, love, but Laroy was probably under the impression that Ope was the one behind the wheel." Her father spoke over Jax, heeding his uncertainty. "It wasn't meant to be her."
Chibs had to blow his theory out of the water, firstly.
"A life is a life. To them, so long as they've got one of ours--someone close to us--they've succeeded with somethin'--"
"All they've succeeded with is leaving two kids without a fucking mother." Isla spat, throwing away the small blanket that Gemma had draped over her as she stood up. "And you've gotta stop being so fucking insensitive."
Jax stumbled backwards, watching her storm out of the room in her pretty little summer dress. He couldn't surmise whether following behind or leaving the woman to simmer alone, was the best idea.
It was a touchy subject, the loss of a parent. It was prickly and raw and it never ceased to strike Isla's heart. Because she understood.
She understood how much it hurt. The uncertainty of it all. Not knowing what to do next. How life changes more than what anyone ever prepares you for and, really, how nothing is ever the same again.
Isla knew it all too well. She'd been there, done that, and refused to go back. But with Chibs's life, his line of work, she was never granted that security.
And it wasn't particularly the security that she wanted, more so the knowledge of what--god forbid anything--would happen to her father. Because that's what bothered her the most about Diane.
She never knew anything about her mother's passing.
Jax got a pretty tight grip on the concept, too. But it was different with Isla--it was something she never quite grasped.
"A life is a life," Gemma mocked the insensitivity from the baffled Scotsman, shaking her head. "That wasn't just any life, Chibs. That was Opie's woman, the mother of his children, and one of Isla's oldest friends--she was family. She wasn't just a life."
His lips twitched before he exhaled sharply, knowing that she was right.
Knowing that his response was much too unsympathetic and heartless and, really, he was an idiot to forget how upset she got whenever something that pertained to the death of her mother was brought up.
"Your kid is grieving. She's grieving for Ope, for Piney, for Kenny and Ellie--for herself because this--" she gestured to nothing in particular, but he understood, "--is something she knows all too well, ain't it? Diane?"
"I know." Tersely, he responded. He pulled a hand through his hair. "I fuckin' know how she feels, but I didn't think she'd storm out when I said it!"
"Well, she's always been unpredictable."
"I know." His riposte was braided with anger, pure fury.
"Then why'd you say it?" Gemma jabbed. "Isla has been about six thousand miles away from us these last few days, and you thought that saying such a stupid thing wouldn't tip her over the edge?"
She was defensive of the blonde--always had been.
And Jax was sick of it.
Sick of the back-and-forth between the two. Sick of that holier than thou bullshit from Gemma--pretending that she wasn't thinking the same fucking thing--and sick of the way Chibs cared more to argue than to go after his daughter.
"Make sure Wendy stays if you two leave--I'm going."
"Where?" Chibs demanded.
But Jax just glared at him, stuffed his hands in both pockets, and walked straight out of the house.
It was cooler, now. The breeze had hit him square in the face the second he stepped over the threshold, and it was nice. To feel a little breeze that'd inevitably take the edge off of the lament sizzling away inside of him, was nice.
It was short lived, though. The second he realized that he couldn't see Isla--that she was completely out of sight--dragged him straight back down to earth, and the panic had set in.
He trusted her, of course he knew that she wasn't going to do anything stupid because she valued her life too much, and she wanted to do great things. So many great things.
But Jax also knew her too well. Well enough to know that the first place she would've thought about storming toward was the Clubhouse--the place that she'd find Tig.
And under any other circumstances, he wouldn't have rushed to get to her before she had a chance to get to T M. But the possibility of walking in and discerning Trager's inconsolable fury--his resentment and self-loathing--was much too great a risk for Jax to take.
He had to intercept.
He had to save her before she got the chance to set foot onto the property.
But, realistically, Jax was more than aware that Isla was probably already halfway there by now, and weaving through the unusual bustle of traffic in his small town just wasn't worth it.
"Shit." He growled, hopping onto his bike regardless. Saving a sliver of hope that he'd find her tonight.
He wasn't exactly optimistic, though. Because she'd already stormed four blocks.
Isla wrapped her cardigan tightly around her body--feeling the cold a bit more than what Jax had earlier--and hastily made her way downtown.
Surprisingly enough, she didn't fear the short walk toward the garage, but it was chilling. The thought of Donna's killer roaming freely, parading around that neighborhood, was daunting.
But she wasn't scared.
Or, at least, Isla wasn't scared until she heeded the red and blue flashing lights right in the middle of the intersection. The apparent murder scene.
Her heart sank, actually. The organ dropped to her stomach, pulsating slowly--barely--at the sight of Charming PD, CSI, and her. The group scattered, conversing, and speculating.
It was horrible. Sick.
She'd seen this before. She'd seen deaths and murders, and whatever came during the moments following. But she hasn't felt this way before.
The incapacitating throb. The discomfort and grief for such a horrendous--albeit freak--accident. And she wasn't stupid. She was as cognizant as her father and as empathetic as Jax, and she knew just as well as those two that this was not a purposeful attack.
Whether it was a consequence of Mayan or Niner misconduct, it was a wrongful onslaught that was about to cull an entire family. An entire charter.
If it hadn't already, that was.
She choked around the swell in her throat, padding along the sidewalk. She took her time, but she wasn't slow by any means. She had a place to be, and a specific person that she had to see--to talk to because she didn't know how to cope with this.
And it wasn't exactly her place to mourn for Donna. She hadn't been involved with her for some five years and she felt bad about the pair unable to rekindle their friendship. She felt bad about grieving the loss of Opie's wife--about taking the focus away from him.
But it hurt. It hurt so much--it sliced deeply, through flesh and tendon and bone--and she knew that Tig wouldn't judge her for this inveterate sorrow. He wouldn't see her as selfish or stupid for wanting to project her sincerities, her emotions.
Her heels clicked across the yard and she smiled a little bit when she passed Juice and Tig's bikes beside one another, letting her know that she wasn't going to be alone in there.
She was scared now, though. Because she hadn't talked about this yet. Hadn't talked about how she felt and how she was going to approach Opie the next time she saw him.
"Juice?" Isla squeaked from the doorway, waiting for him to turn around and run to her, or something. But he didn't move, didn't lift his head.
It was dreary inside. The lights had been dimmed, the men surrounding the tables and bar were downtrodden, and Isla felt as though she'd just walked through the gates of hell.
The vibrancy and boisterous nature of SAMCRO had come to a complete standstill, and she was actually yearning for the sleaze that usually enveloped the space.
Her sigh was defeated, forlorn. She sniffed as her nose ran, making her way to the bathroom to go and clean herself up--because she knew that she looked dreadful, and didn't want anybody to really see her that way.
"Is anyone in here?" She asked softly against the locked door, knowing that the answer was yes and that Tig was the occupant--but she persisted, anyway.
The mellifluous rhythm bled through the oak, jolting him still as blood poured from the gash in his head, and shattered glass surrounded his frame and the sink.
He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, glaring monotonously at himself in front of the mirror. Glaring at the fucking monster that was about to welcome Isla into open arms, comforting her because he knew that she'd need it.
"Yeah," He opened up, smiling down at her. "But I'm done, if you wanna--"
"What happened to you?" She put a hand against his chest, pushing him back into the room. Her brow furrowed when he didn't respond. "Tiggy?"
His entire body winced at Isla's soft touch. At the way her pink nails traced over the patch of skin on his chest, uncovered by his shirt--the shirt he was going to burn after tonight.
She gently gripped at his chin, turning his face to the right to get a better look at the incision on his left. Her eyes filled again, lips turned downward.
"Let me clean you up."
"You don't gotta--"
"I do." Isla cut him off, blinking away her tears. "If it doesn't get treated, it might get infected."
Like father, like daughter--always the first person to tend to an injury. She was so loving, so benevolent. Nothing like him, he thought.
Tig watched her maneuver around the tiny bathroom, admiring her desire to patch him up. To care for him and help make him feel better.
Not much would've helped at that moment, but she was trying her best.
"How'd you get over here?" He asked, leaning against the sink.
"I walked--"
"You walked?" Pissed, Tig spat. "Jesus fuck, Isla, you can't walk these parts alone, anymore."
She looked up at him from the spot she was crouched at, sifting through a small first-aid kit in the cabinet. "Who said I was alone?"
"Were you?" His eyes narrowed. She got to her feet, putting the small plastic box beside him, looking his face over a few times.
Her head shook. "Nope. Never alone with these thoughts."
Tig couldn't not chuckle at her response, but he was still worried about her. He didn't worry often--he was too selfish for that--but anything to do with his favorite blonde saw him panic like a madman.
"And the voices, too." She mused, breaking out into a genuine smile the first time all evening. "They always keep me real good company."
"Yeah?" Isla's head bobbed, cupping his chin again. "Me too--me 'n you don't seem to be too different after all, baby."
"Never said that we weren't." She poked her tongue out a little bit, surveying the damage. "Never said that we were the same, either."
"We're not the same." He confirmed, curling his hand around her wrist as she held an alcohol pad above his cut. "We are not the same, Isla."
Her head tilted, trying to discern what he meant. But she couldn't, and it caused an uncomfortable shiver to flicker down her spine.
"This might hurt." She whispered in an attempt to dissipate the small tension, gently running her thumb over his chin.
The other was--alongside her pointer finger--tapping the small antiseptic against the wound. She frowned the more he winced, though Tig's smile and hold on her wrist was still present.
"I like the pain."
"I know you do, Tiger." Isla joked. But she couldn't help wondering how the fuck he managed to do this to himself tonight.
Why he would do this to himself tonight.
"I don't wanna have to stitch your pretty face up," she pursed her lips and got him to hold the cotton in place.
"You think I got a pretty face?"
"The prettiest." Her retort was instantaneous, missing that usual glint of something resembling a joke.
She was serious--she wasn't engaging in that usual banter with him today. She was too run down for it, actually.
"Gonna have to give you a couple of butterfly stitches, if that's okay?" Isla looked up at him, holding out the small bandages with a smile. "It won't hurt. And they'll probably dissolve in, like, a week or so."
"Go for it. I love when you play nurse."
She lightly whacked at his chest, laughing as she got him to sit on the closed toilet lid to get a better reach. He wasn't tall, but neither was she. Isla needed him to lower his height if she wanted to successfully repair him.
The comfort, the aid and assistance had him forgetting about tonight--had her forgetting the real reason for her impromptu arrival to the clubhouse--but not forgetting about the newfound misery that encircled SAMCRO.
"You alright?" He asked when she hadn't made a movement, when her eyes seemed to focus on the shelves above the tank of the toilet. "I can do it myself, if you don't wanna--"
"I wanna." The smile she produced was fake--uncomfortable as tears rolled down perfectly blushed cheeks.
It broke his heart. Everything she was doing and saying--and even feeling because her pain was palpable--was breaking his heart and Tig felt like hell for doing this.
"I'm sorry," she stuck the first stitch to his forehead carefully, getting him to rip off the back of the second because her fingers were too shaky to get a solid grip.
"Don't be." He handed it to her. "It's been a tough night."
Her laugh was humorless, dull. "You can say that again, Tiggy."
"You wanna talk about it?"
"Not really." She sent him an apologetic look, but he got it.
Isla trusted him with her life--for some reason--but she found it hard to open up sometimes. In regards to something this serious, she struggled to get a solid handle on her emotions and how to express them.
He understood her, though. Understood her well enough, her mannerisms and thought processes, and he just wondered if she felt like divulging her pain tonight.
She didn't, though. And Tig didn't particularly mind that. He didn't want to feel that twisted pang of regret, the vehement churn of his stomach whenever she said Donna's name--which she was yet to do, and she probably wouldn't at this point, either.
"I just wanna cry." She stated plainly, not even reluctantly anymore.
Like Gemma, he hadn't seen her cry for a long time. And it wasn't a nice visual, actually.
But he was supportive, and just wanted her to do anything that'd make her feel somewhat better--so he encouraged it.
Isla put everything down, gave his face the once over for the last time, and set herself on the tile with her back to the door.
"You wanna cry? Do it, baby. If it'll help, just do it." He assured, getting to the ground beside her. "I know you don't like doin' it in front of me, but I won't tell anyone, if that's what you want."
"You make me seem like a battle ax." Isla quipped, sniffling. "I don't care if anyone sees me cry--everyone knows that I do. It's just..."
"Showing vulnerability ain't a nice thought. I know."
God. She hated how well he understood her. How he knew what she was going to fucking say. All the time.
Tig wound an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Instinctively, she rested her head against his shoulder.
"I get it." He stated mindlessly, pushing tousled blonde strands from her forehead. "But y'know you can always trust me, kid. I'll never tell anyone that you feel emotions--"
"I'm literally the most emotional person you all know." Isla protested weakly, hoping he didn't mind the feeling of her tears bleeding through his shirt.
He didn't.
"I just don't really like crying. It's not a true testament to my character--I'm supposed to be the happy one around these parts. The sickeningly optimistic Irish girl--"
"You can still be a crier, too."
"I know." She finally wrapped her arms around his middle as they sat together. "But people just don't take girls seriously when they cry. And I don't want my position here to be compromised, I guess. I don't want my dad, or Gemma, or Clay to think I can't handle being around the club anymore--because I can. And I always will."
"They wouldn't think different of you for that." He promised, rubbing circles over her shoulder the more he felt the navy cotton dampen. "This is a real tough thing, Isla, nobody is gonna chastise you for shedding a tear. They'd probably think different of you if you didn't cry."
"You think?"
He nodded.
"Crying shows that you got empathy and a heart. We all know your heart is bigger than..." Thick eyebrows crumpled together before he let out a little chuckle. "Bigger than Clay's ego. It's huge, your heart."
"Well, it's gotta be. If I wanna love all of you--warts 'n all--my heart has gotta be huge."
"Exactly," he drew out his response, earning a laugh and something reminiscent of an optimistic smile from her.
Trager never saw himself as the kind of man to make a girl smile or laugh after a little pep talk--after or before incredible sex, perhaps, but never as a result of his unusually comforting nature.
But he just had that effect on Isla--something she wasn't able to extrapolate verbally. Something she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to comprehend, either.
"You've just gotta try not to make yourself too vulnerable, that's all, 'cuz people will get used to coddling you. And I know that's now what you want."
"That's what I mean." She frowned, pulling herself away a bit. "I don't wanna be seen as inferior for being able to cry about the things that you, or Gem, or dad, are able to keep a poker face over. I'm just...I'm just thin-skinned sometimes, and I'm yet to be desensitized to this stuff, I guess."
"You're not thin-skinned for crying tonight." He scolded, knowing that she didn't want to elucidate her thoughts about the happening, but he just couldn't help himself.
"Desensitization don't mean shit when you've lost someone you care about--it's always gonna hurt, sweetheart. Always. And there ain't nothing you can do to stop that."
He was the one with misty eyes, now. He was the one trying to bite back tears, trying to conceal the spread of his sadness--the uncomfortable soreness in his chest. In his heart that wasn't anywhere near as big and full as hers.
"You're never gonna grow immune to grief--I promise you'll always feel that. Whether you show it--how you show it--is another thing, though."
"You feel it?"
"Tonight?"
"In general."
She couldn't seem to recall the last time that she saw him cry--if she'd ever seen it, actually. Aside from this moment, of course.
Tears fell to the apples of his cheeks and she, without any reluctance, used the pad of her thumb to brush them away.
And he got it, now. The idea of showing vulnerability being a fucking liability. Because the pity washing over her soft, beautiful features made him feel fragile.
"All the time. All the fuckin' time."
"It really never goes away?"
"No." Tig sniffed harshly, forcing a smile. "But you learn to cope. You learn that it ain't the end of the world and that life just goes on after death."
"Profound." She chuckled once again. "That's some deep, deep shit, Tigger. Almost made me forget about how much I wanna hysterically break down."
"Do it. That'll make me feel better about my injury."
"Your self-inflicted injury." Isla stated knowingly, but she didn't clarify just what she meant.
Because it could've been an array of things, but he liked to think that she was just referring to his little forehead aperture.
"I like it. It makes you look badass." Isla held a hand out to Tig when he pulled himself upward, and she wanted to follow suit.
"Does it make me look hot, too?"
"Absolutely." Again, it wasn't laced in a tease. It was honest, and the small smile she produced was sincere. "Be careful with it, though. Try not to get it wet or anything, because it'll dissolve too soon--"
"I've had them before, y'know?"
"Why is that so hard to believe?" Isla rolled her eyes. "You're a super scary, malicious, calculating guy when you've gotta be. But I know that you're accident prone."
He curled his eyebrow upward. "Scary?"
"Totally. I've seen you hold a gun to a guy's head." A chill impaired her, frightening her. "Shits terrifying, Tig. Remind me to never get on your bad side."
"You couldn't even if you tried."
"You think?" Her qualm was unexpected, almost challenging him as she unlocked the bathroom door and stepped into the hallway. "I think I could."
What's she playing at? She was sobbing two minutes ago.
Oh, I get it. This is her facade--actin' all care free, and shit.
Tig followed behind--every step--as she clicked along the wooden floor of the clubhouse.
"You couldn't. Trust me." He stated lowly, reaching for her hand when she stuttered a little.
Isla noticed her father next time Juice, drinking at the bar with their backs to the duo. She didn't want to see him, right now.
Talking to Chibs would've ignited whatever fucking fire inside of her that'd started to blaze out of control earlier tonight, and she'd worked hard to contain this inferno.
"What you can do, though, is turn your pretty little ass back around, and go get some rest in the dorm. It's been a long night."
She didn't refute, she didn't try to get out of it because she didn't want to. Isla couldn't bear the thought of waltzing past her father, talking to him about her tiny outburst, and resuming as normal.
Because she couldn't do that. Not tonight, anyway.
"Tig?"
"Uh huh." He responded, his eyes glued to the back of Juice's cut as he slammed yet another shot back.
Probably wondering what the fuck had gone down tonight.
"Can you stay with me?" Her retort forced his focus to land on her, and the defenselessness--sheer exposure--in her attitude.
It wasn't the simple fact of wanting to be alone.
She couldn't be alone. Not anymore.
Ringed fingers squeezed her hand reassuringly, guiding her into the back room, holding her close. Because that's what she really, truly wanted.
"'Course I can. Anything for you, Isla."
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winterscaptain · 4 years ago
Text
fear itself.
Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader
a/n: part two of the 100 arc! this installment covers the events of faceless, nameless. i am living for the feedback! please keep it coming. i can’t wait to hear what you think as we go through this (very emotionally wrought) section.
an ajf fic arc that happily stands on its own! one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine | ten | eleven
words: 4.5k warnings: canon-typical violence, language, hospital setting
summary: four hours of sleep and aaron’s missing. what else could go wrong?
masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!
4:02am “Just got home, so I’m calling like you asked. Shoot me a text when you get back to the apartment, if you aren’t already asleep. Call me when you’re up and we can work on that Nebraska consult, maybe in the early afternoon? Goodnight. Sleep well.”
8:13am “Hey, it’s me. I know I’m not supposed to be worried about you, but we were called in a half hour ago and you’re still not here...so...give me a call when you get this. Bye.”
8:48am “Hey, it’s me, checking in again. You’re probably still asleep, but I’ve never known you to sleep more than seven hours...so if I don’t hear from you by eleven I’ll drag you out of bed myself.”
9:51am “We’re headed to the crime scene. Garcia’s sent you the address. I know JJ’s been calling you too, so just...I dunno? Call us back? Bye.”
10:20am “If you’re getting these and ignoring me, I hope you know you’re taking years off my life right now.”
11:08am “Um...Call me back. I’m starting to worry. Well...not starting. I’ve been worried. But I’m getting...really worried.” 
11:37am “Aaron please call me and let me know you’re alright. You’re scaring me.”
+++
Needless to say, it’s been a weird day. Why you expected anything else after that wretched Canada case and four hours of sleep, you have no idea. 
You had a horrible dream last night, on top of everything else. The image of Aaron broken and bleeding beside you hadn’t left your mind since it first appeared in Foyet’s kitchen. You tried to shake it off every time, but it was persistent. 
We’ll worry about that later. 
You check the time again, trying to ignore the weird feeling in your gut. 
Where is he? 
Your phone rings and your heart leaps. Guilt (and a little bit of embarrassment) pricks at you when you’re disappointed to see Emily’s name on your phone. You answer. 
“You have to get down here.” Her voice isn’t frantic, per se, but the urgency is undeniable. 
“What’s going on?” 
She takes a breath. “I just got off the phone with Garcia - I have crime scene techs and SWAT on the way to Hotch’s apartment, and I need you here.” 
All the blood in your body seems to rush into your head, and you lean heavily on the nearest object - the dining room table. “What?”
“I - I don’t know. All his stuff is here and there's -” She stutters for a second. “There’s blood on the carpet, broken glass, and a bullet hole in the wall by the kitchen. No Hotch.” 
An eerie kind of calm washes over you, and you straighten, making eye contact with Derek. “Okay. Let me just -”
Derek gets a call, but keeps his eyes on you. “What’s goin’ on, Baby Girl?...What do you mean ‘Emily just called SWAT to Hotch’s apartment’ what -“
You break his gaze as he nods at you and turns to the rest of the team. “Emily, I’ll be right there. Don’t go anywhere.” 
+++
You make it to the hospital with Emily. You flash your credentials and it gets you exactly where you want to go. 
When you see him, your breath catches. He looks awful - drawn and small and wrapped in what seems like miles of gauze. Emily grabs your arm, but you’re not sure if it's for her benefit or yours. 
This is, after all, your worst nightmare come to life. A little chill crawls up your spine. This whole thing has you feeling six different kinds of scared. 
The nurse lets you into his room, telling you he’ll be out for another hour, at least. “He needs the rest.”
Emily leaves you to retrieve coffee. You take the opportunity to sit beside him and slide your hand under his, careful not to disturb the IV. Your hand shakes - whether from anxiety, fear, fury, or all of the above, you’re not sure. 
“If you die, Aaron Hotchner, I’ll kill you.”
You hear a little laugh from the doorway and you pull your hand from him. Emily shakes her head, two cups of coffee in her hands. “You’re fine. I'm not going to tattle.”
You squint. “Tattle?”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re so clueless it’s almost cute, but he’s worse.” She throws her head toward Hotch with a fond smile, handing you your cup of coffee.
+++
The rest of the team arrives in a flurry a little while later, and the nurse has to warn them off as Aaron starts to wake. 
They quiet down, surrounding his bedside. You haven’t moved, making it your mission to keep your eyes on him at all times. 
His eyes flutter before closing again. “Where am I?”
“You’re in the hospital,” you say, keeping your voice quiet and steady despite the tightness in your chest. 
“How did I get here?”
Derek gets that one. “Foyet drove you.” 
Aaron takes a breath. It’s shaky, and you imagine he’s in a lot of pain. Emily leans forward, looking for his eyes. “Can you remember what happened?”
He tells you, slowly, about how Foyet broke into the apartment, waited until he was home with his guard down, fired a shot, and then...He trails off. A heavy breath leaves him. “What did he take?”
You have an answer. “There was a page missing from your day planner, the Bs from the address section.” 
He closes his eyes and his breath grows faster, his heart rate increasing. After a moment, he collects himself and asks Emily, “What did he leave?”
“I don’t know.” 
“He also leaves something with his victims.”
Emily shakes her head. “I looked through your entire apartment. Nothing felt out of place.”
“Where are my clothes?”
“Right here.” You reach over, grabbing the bag and removing his bloody shirt with only the barest moment of hesitation. He reaches for the envelope of his personal effects and you press it into his hand, saving him the effort. 
Tears prick at your eyes as you watch his hands shake, opening his wallet. He’s eerily quiet, and you catch a glimpse of a photo, tucked into the fold. 
Haley and Jack. There’s blood on it. You recognize it from the desk in his home office space. 
No. 
Aaron’s come to the same conclusion, falling back on the pillows with a look you can only describe as defeated. It scares you. You swallow, pushing your tears back. 
That’s the last thing he needs right now. 
“Haley’s maiden name is Brooks. I always listed her in the Bs in my personal information in case it fell into the wrong hands.” Your hand, like JJ’s, has fallen over your mouth. 
Oh. 
Of course. 
Of course, he keeps her under Brooks. All he wants to do is keep her safe. 
You hope, one day, that someone will love you that much, will want to protect you with the same ferocity, will think of you before anything else. 
You could only be so lucky. 
He swallows and continues. “He knows where they live.”
Derek makes assignments. You’re to stay right where you are, while the rest focus on locating Haley and Jack. 
When it’s just the two of you, he closes his eyes again. “I don’t know what I’m going to do if -”
“They’ll find her. They’ll find Jack. They’ll be safe.”
You have to believe it, too. They’re too important to you, to central to your life, now 
He shakes his head, his eyes cracking open. “Why didn’t I just take the deal?” Clearing his throat, he continues, his voice a little stronger, but still rough. “He told me I should have. I never thought -” He cuts himself off.
You hand him a cup of water, and he takes it gratefully. Idly, you note he hasn’t looked you in the eye yet. 
“Do you want an answer to your question?”
He doesn’t answer you, looking across the room. 
You lean into his eye line. “You didn’t take the deal because you have the most integrity of anyone I’ve ever known. Anything he does is on him. It’s not on you.” 
“But,” his voice breaks and the smallest of tears falls out of his eye. It tracks down his temple until you gently wipe it away with your thumb. “But I could have stopped all of this.” 
“No,” you whisper. Your hand lingers on the side of his face. “No. He’ll be this way wherever he goes. The only way you change that is by catching him, Hotch.” 
He finally looks at you, his brown eyes exhausted, hurting, and bloodshot. You card your fingers through the hair at his temple, putting the oxygen cannula back over his ear. Soon, he closes his eyes again, his vitals evening out as he falls asleep. 
“We’ll get him, Aaron.”
A few tense minutes later, your phone buzzes in your pocket. When you see the caller ID, a shot of adrenaline zings around your body. “Haley?”
Your name is a sigh of relief in her mouth. “SWAT scared the hell out of me and I just - I don’t know.”
“Oh, Haley I’m so sorry. I should have gone over there with the team but -“ Derek knew my stress wouldn’t be useful. 
“No, no. It’s fine. They’re getting Jack from a friend’s house, but they told me what’s going on. I’ll see you when I get to the hospital. I just -“ She laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “I just freaked out.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll see you soon.”
“I’ll see you soon. I love you.”
Your heart pulls. “I love you, too.” 
She hangs up, and you stuff your phone back in your pocket. 
Aaron wakes again when you pull a case file from your bag, but you’re not sure it’s your doing.
Shit. 
He looks around a little frantically for a moment, still disoriented. You rise and cross the room, finding one of his hands. 
“Hotch, it’s okay. You’re still in the hospital.” 
“Haley?”
You nod. “They got her. She’s safe and she’s on her way with Jack.” 
He finally relaxes, sinking back down into the pillows. “Thank you.”
You nod and resume your place on the other side of the room, patting the back of his hand as you let him go. He’s quiet, if not a little fidgety. You look at him for a minute. He takes a talking breath. 
“After the first one, it kind of goes blank.” His breath is still a little unsteady, and you take your chair next to his bed again. “There were nine, apparently.” 
Your breath catches. It’s not new information, but it’s still raw, sharp-edged. 
Awful.
He swallows. “He taunted me.” His eyes beg you to understand, to keep him from flying off the rails. 
“He’s a bastard, Aaron.”
He levels you with a withering stare. No shit. 
“I know you know that, but it’s worth repeating.”
“I don’t want -“
You interrupt him, knowing exactly where he’s going. “You’re not going to become a victim. You aren’t a victim.”
“I don’t want Haley to -“ 
You press a hand to his arm, mindful of his bandages. “One day at a time. They’re safe today.”
His lip quivers and his voice leaves him in a whisper. “That’s not good enough.”
+++
Eventually, Haley arrives looking a little worse for wear. 
Her haircut’s really cute. 
The thought almost makes you laugh. 
Of all the things to notice...
You startle a little as you remember where you are and rise, ready to give them space. She waves you off, giving you permission to stay. 
“How do you feel?” She asks. 
Aaron sits up a little more, not without effort, and says, “I’m gonna be okay.” 
That’s not what she asked, stupid. 
He continues. “Did they explain to you what’s happening?”
She nods. “They said the marshal's service is taking us straight from here and putting us into protective custody.” Her eyes meet yours, and you dip your chin. She’s right. 
Aaron apologizes to Haley for the first of what you imagine will be many times. 
Her lower lip disappears between her teeth. “Do you know where they’re gonna take us?”
“No,” you answer. “We don’t. And that’s the point.” 
“I can’t know where you’re going,” Aaron adds. “If you have any contact with anyone, he can track you.”
That shocks her a little, and you can see she’s getting upset. “Jack has school. He has friends. I have a job now. I have -” She cuts herself off. 
“I know.” He levels a steady, solemn gaze upon her. “And I’m sorry. We will catch him and you’ll come back.”
She looks at you again. “Are you sure we’re in danger?” 
You nod, almost imperceptibly, and Hotch answers. “Yes.” 
“And what about you? Are you gonna be safe?”
There it is. 
She does love him. 
You knew that, of course. Seeing them together during visits at home or out to dinner or otherwise in the presence of that other, that was never in question.
Your heart tugs. 
Twenty-five years... 
“He wants to see me suffer. Knowing that my son is out there and that I can’t see him is better than killing me.”
Haley wets her lips and swallows. 
That’s her tell. 
You figure she’ll burst into tears pretty soon. It was only a matter of time, and you don’t blame her in the least. You’ve had tears threatening you all afternoon, and this wasn’t even happening to you. 
“Jack wants to see you.”
Aaron’s jaw gets a little tight. “I want to see him, too. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.” 
You hear what he can’t say, too. I don’t want to scare him. I don’t want him to see me like this. 
“Look,” she says, exasperated. “I know you’re trying to protect him, but you both need this. Please.”
He nods, resigned. “Okay.”
Haley looks over and offers you a shaky smile, trying to break the tension. “He also asked me if you’d be here. He’ll be thrilled.” 
That almost does you in. “So will I,” you tell her, meaning every syllable. 
With another brisk nod and wipe of her face, she leaves the room to retrieve Jack. Aaron sits up a little straighter and you help him. He tries to suppress his wince, but fails. 
“Do you need another round?” 
He shakes his head. “I’ll be fine.”
“Just let me know.” You settle back into the corner, the case file in your lap. 
Haley and Jack return, and she brings him to Aaron’s side, lifting him up onto the bed. 
Aaron meets his eyes and tells him that he’s okay, giving him a little preparing for what’s about to happen. “But, what do I tell you whenever I go away?”
“That you love me.” 
You hide your face, looking out the window as tears finally fall from your eyes. Haley’s eyes are on you and you know it. You wipe at your face and take a quiet breath before turning back, pretending to pay attention to the case in your lap. 
In your periphery, you can see Aaron looking over Jack’s face as if to memorize it, as if he doesn’t already know every plane, every curve, every angle of his son’s face. “More than anything in the world.” 
They exchange a few more words before he brings him close and kisses his forehead. You glance up, and they look so alike in their profiles it almost makes you smile. Haley’s crying, too, and she meets your eyes. 
Something passes between you, but you don’t have a name for it. 
You don’t need one. 
Haley takes a breath and tucks her hair behind her ears. She redirects Jack’s attention to you, and his eyes light up. She helps him scramble off the bed and he books it around the bed to you. 
You close the case file and open your arms to him. “Hi, bud.” It’s hard not to scare him with the feverish way you hold him close, your fingers wound in his hair. 
There’s a failed attempt to avoid thinking about the uncertainty of the future, when you’ll see him again. 
If ever.
Stop. 
The pair of you lean back for a minute, and you brush his hair away from his forehead. 
“Are you going away, too?” He asks. 
You shake your head. “I’m gonna stay here with your dad.” 
“Are you going to keep my dad safe? I’m going to keep Mom safe.”
It’s Aaron who looks away this time. 
“Of course, my love.” You offer him something you hope looks like a smile. “We always keep each other safe. We’re a team, like you and your momma. I’m so proud of you.” You check in with Haley, who’s looking away, the back of her hand swiping at her cheek. When she turns back to you, you tilt your head a little. 
Want a minute? 
She nods. 
You stand, Jack still tucked against your chest. “I think,” you say, as he sits back in your arms, “Miss Emily and Miss JJ are back and might have something fun for you over there.” You tip your head toward the waiting room. “Wanna go see?”
He nods, leaning back into you and playing with your collar. You pat Aaron’s knee and squeeze Haley’s shoulder with your free hand as you pass. 
Aaron watches you go, your low murmuring comforts to Jack lost in the ambient hospital noise. When you find JJ and look back, giving him a small (if not a little watery) smile, he looks over at Haley, guilt closing up his throat. 
“I’m so sorry, Haley. I promise, when this is all over, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.” 
She gives him a half-smile and sits on the edge of his bed. She reaches for him, and he takes both of her hands in his. There’s silence for a moment as they sit together. She studies him. 
While it doesn’t bother him (she has been looking at him for nearly twenty-five years, after all), he does feel more exposed under her gaze than he’s used to. 
“You should do something about that, one of these days,” she says, looking over her shoulder. You’re still visible in the window, talking to JJ while Jack is still glued to you. His little arms are tight around your neck, his head tucked under your chin.
Aaron’s brow furrows, but the EKG picks up the increase in his heart rate, much to his embarrassment. “What are you talking about?”
Haley laughs, a light, watery, delicate thing, and turns back to him. It almost brings a smile to his face. “Do you think I don’t know what you look like when you’re head over heels, Aaron Hotchner? After eighteen years of marriage and twenty-five years knowing you? Give me a break.”
His jaw grows tight, but he holds her gaze. 
“You used to look at me like that, you know.” A little smile plays at her lips and she looks down, almost shy. “Still do, sometimes.” 
“I love you, Haley.” 
She squeezes his hand. “I know you do.” A sigh leaves her and she looks over her shoulder again, just catching a glimpse of you and JJ out in the hall with Jack as you go scavenging for something sweet. There’s a little smile at the corner of her mouth when she turns back to him. “You are so loved, Aaron.” 
“I don't…” He huffs, frustrated. “I don’t feel -”
“I’m not saying you have to do anything, but it might do you some good to just…” She sighs, throwing a hand up in a kind of searching gesture. “I don’t know, be honest with yourself. Think for a minute.” 
His teeth worry the inside of his lower lip as he thinks about it. He does care about you. But love? 
He thinks of the way his chest feels too small whenever you laugh, the way he always goes above and beyond to make sure you’re safe in the field, how he looks for you when you’re out of the room, how he looks for you when you’re in the room. 
The way you are with Jack brings him to his knees every time. The sound of his son’s laughter under your tickling fingers never fails to bring a smile to his face. 
You’ve helped him heal what seemed like an insurmountable chasm between him and Haley, and though it’s not perfect, it’s better than it would ever be without you. 
You always take a second to straighten his tie and ensure his suit jacket lays flat across his shoulders before leaving the plane, just like he always takes time to count the rounds in your magazines or tuck your tag back into your shirt collar. 
He always feels so warm under your fond and attentive touch. With a little bit of alarm, he hopes you feel the same under his. Safe. Cared-for. 
Loved. 
Oh. 
Oh no.
He knows the realization is clear on his face when Haley laughs again, surprising them both. She swipes at her eyes again, clearing any remaining tears. “You know, I can’t say I’m surprised you didn’t know, but it’s still funny, even with all this.” She shakes her head. “You haven’t changed much, have you?”
His face breaks out into a little smile as he looks back at her. “Oh, quit.” 
“I’ll never quit giving you hell, as long as we live.” Haley reaches out, pushing gently against his shoulder. He takes the shove like a champ, even through the ache in his chest and abdomen, thankful she’s not treating him like he’s made of glass. 
“Don’t I know it.” 
They look at each other for a minute before Aaron sobers, the mirth evaporating between them. He already misses her. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for all of this. I’m hoping it’ll be...temporary.” 
“I do have a life, Aaron. And Jack…” She sighs and her eyes fill with tears again. 
“I know. I’m sorry. I wish there was another way to keep you safe, but -” He cuts himself off, knowing there’s nothing he can say. 
She swallows again. She already misses him. “How am I supposed to keep him safe when there’s nobody I know to help me?”
He sighs, but speaks with conviction. “Haley, you’re strong. You lived with me in this job and you’ve practically raised Jack all by yourself. You’re a great mother.” 
Haley’s actively crying now, trying to stem the tears with her fingers. It’s not working. After a moment, she collects herself. “Can you catch this man?”
“I will catch this man.”
+++
When she leaves Aaron’s room, you bring Jack to her. You take a moment to lightly fuss over them both. 
Her blue eyes find yours. “Take care of him, please?”
You nod. “I will.” 
“He needs you.” 
She says it with a simple kind of conviction that makes your chest pull. You put a hand on her shoulder, trying to communicate everything you can’t say into your touch. “He needs you more.” 
“No, he doesn’t.” Her lips twist in an odd sort of smile and she wraps you in a hug and kisses your cheek. “I’ll see you soon.” 
You hold her tight, Jack trapped (and whining a little) between you. “See you soon, Hales.” You pull back, looking deeply into her eyes. “We’ll get him.” 
The U.S. Marshals arrive, and you have to let go of each other. You press a kiss to Jack’s forehead and tell him you love him one more time, and wait until they’re in the car and out of sight before you break down. 
You don’t know where he came from, but Derek wraps around you, catching you before your knees hit the ground. You don't know what you’re crying about, really. 
It could be the overwhelming task of catching Foyet.
It could be Hotch in the room down the hall with nine stab wounds to his chest and abdomen. 
It could be the indefinite absence of your dear friend and her son - a boy you love more than anyone except maybe -
Nope. Don’t go there. Not now. 
Sobs wrack your chest, and your head hurts and your throat is sore by the time your body lets you breathe. 
Derek’s there the whole time, rubbing your back and keeping your face hidden in the crook of his neck and shoulder. “It’s gonna be okay, kiddo. It’ll be okay. He’s okay. We’re gonna catch this son of a bitch.” 
“It’s just so much, Derek.” 
He sighs. “I know. I know.”
+++
“Did you hear what happened this morning?”
You’re woken by Dave’s voice, coming from the doorway. Cramped and crunched into the corner of an uncomfortable chair, you stretch and what feels like every joint in your body cracks. 
“No.”
When did Aaron wake up? 
You look over at him and he glances at you before returning to Dave, who’s leaning on the door frame. 
“We had a situation. Unsub had already killed two people. Said he was gonna keep killing unless a man used his son as bait.”
“What happened?”
Good question. 
Belatedly, you realize you’ve neglected your case duties all day in favor of holding vigil over Aaron’s bedside. The weirdest part about it? The rest of the team let you. 
Why? 
“We kept the boy safe. Worked the profile. It was a happy ending.” 
That’s good, at least. One fucking happy ending today. 
It’s like Dave’s reading your mind as he asks Aaron, “Do you know why I’m telling you this?”
“Yes.” Aaron’s gaze is impassive, but there are universes behind his eyes. 
“No other group in the world could have pulled off what yours did in a matter of hours.” Dave checks in with you, and the corner of your mouth lifts. 
Sorry. 
He shakes his head just a little. No sweat, kid. You did your job.
“I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Dave, but -”
Dave cuts him off. “We’ll get Foyet.”
“I promised Haley I would get him. But the truth is, if he stops killing we have no way of tracking him. He stopped killing for ten years just for the pleasure of watching Shaunessy’s life fall apart.” 
He’s crying again, and your heart breaks. You’re surprised Dave can’t hear it crack all the way across the room. 
“What’s Jack going to remember about me in ten years?”
No. 
“Hotch, look at me.” You rise from your chair and sit on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb his position. He turns his head just so, his brown eyes locking onto yours. “We’ll get him. We will get him.”
We have to. 
+++
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ot7always · 4 years ago
Text
Risk and Reward
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Word Count: 6.6k
Pairing: Hoseok x Reader
Genre: Best friends to lovers AU, fluff, light light light angst, smut
Warnings: dom!Hoseok, sub!Reader, alcohol consumption and mild intoxication, club setting, grinding, thigh-riding, choking, a tiny bit of spanking, degradation, praise, dirty talk, hair pulling, fingering, oral (m&f receiving), face-fucking, power dynamics, crying, overstimulation, unprotected sex, rough sex, overuse of pet names, sweet aftercare
Rating: 18+
Summary:  Perhaps the two of you have been dancing around each other for long enough. By this point, it’s only a matter of who breaks first, isn’t it?
A/N: I had actually started this fic in February before school started up again and I completely forgot about it. I’m glad I picked it up again a few days ago, because I’m fairly happy with how it turned out. This is actually my first smut piece and well... go big or go home, I guess?
Masterlist
--
“Hobi. Hoseok. Hey hey hey hey heyheyhey-”
“If this is what I’m gonna have to put up with for the rest of the night, I’m leaving.”
You and Hoseok, your best friend despite his rude words, were getting ready to go for a night of clubbing. More accurately, you were scrambling to get your face on after losing track of time and having Hoseok show up at your door only moments after submitting an assignment. He, of course, was already looking fine as hell. How dare he show up looking like that when you probably smelled like sweat and the tacos you ate for lunch?
“Pick me an outfit? Pretty please?”
There were only so many people in this universe you might have trusted with such a task, but luckily one such person was standing in your bedroom. Albeit, giving you a glance that had disappointment written all over it, but standing there nonetheless. Standing there in a navy blue Henley and black jeans so tight you weren’t sure how he squeezed them on. Yes, he was definitely the best person for the task of dressing you. Though, looking at him, his shirt tight across his chest, his dark brown hair slicked back, his legs, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he undressed-
“Hello? Y/N?” He was staring at you as if he had already been doing so for several moments while you so obviously ogled him. “I know I look good, but I just asked you -  skirt or pants?”
You took a deep breath. The two of you had always seemed to toe the line between best friends and… not… but recently you had been feeling it a lot more. Lingering touches, cuddling close to watch a movie, literally every textbook move that could take two people from “just friends” to “dating.” You’d been thinking about it a lot – how could you not, with him looking like that – but tonight, you just wanted to have fun and look good doing it.
“Let’s go with a dress, don’t you think?”
He gave you a look of annoyance, before tossing a short skirt and cropped sweater onto your bed.
“Why am I here picking for you if you already know what you want?” he scolded, though you could tell his heart wasn’t in it. Having just finished perfecting your eyeliner, you walked over to where he was now sitting on your bed looking suspiciously close to pouting.
“Ahhh I’m sorry, you know I love you!” you exclaimed, plopping yourself unceremoniously onto his lap, squeezing him tightly to you despite his squirming. You tucked your face into his neck, noting the intoxicating smell of his cologne. God, was there anything about this man that wasn’t attractive?
You pulled your face back to beam at him, only to find him looking intensely at you. He wasn’t smiling. Eyes sweeping over you, hand tightening itself on your waist, you felt immensely small in his hold. Those eyes held emotions neither of you had yet cared to address but loved to toy with. You hoped that he couldn’t feel your heartbeat right now, because surely your heart was about to leap out of your throat. He inhaled as if he would start to speak, and you glanced down at his lips, already hanging onto the unspoken words.
“You should get dressed,” he seemed to struggle to get out, voice rough. It was at this moment you remembered that while your hair and makeup were done, you were still sitting in Hoseok’s lap in nothing more than tiny shorts and a t-shirt you suspected once belonged to him, though no longer. Despite his words, he remained staring into you, thumb gently moving back and forth near the waistband of your shorts. However innocent the motion may have been, your body felt like it was on fire from the touch. At this rate you wouldn’t even make it to the club.
You flung yourself off his lap, seemingly surprising both Hoseok and yourself as you nearly stumbled from your apparent enthusiasm. Eager to get out of the house and whatever situation this was, you quickly moved to rid yourself of your t-shirt and put on the clothes your friend had so helpfully laid out for you.
You heard a faint choking sound as you did so, but you didn’t think so much of changing in front of Hoseok anymore anyway. He had seen you half naked more than his fair share of times. Though, perhaps you should have made your stripping sexier?
After pulling your sweater on, you chanced a glance at Hoseok, only to find him turned around and looking at his phone. A shame. Is it so bad to hope that you could tease him at least a fraction of the amount he liked to tease you? Regardless, you finished pulling on your outfit, complete with black heels, before grabbing your purse.
“Let’s go?” you inquired, looking back at him on your bed. Rather than making eye contact with you, you found him to be tracing his eyes up and down your body. A part of you hoped that he was picturing what he caught a glimpse of only moments before. Finally, he gave you a smirk and a little whistle.
“Wow, look at you. Though, perhaps you should be thanking me for this?” he chuckled, catching your hand that was swatting at him as he met you at the door. But he didn’t let go, instead grabbing your waist and turning you toward the floor-length mirror nearby. His front was almost moulded to your back, and would it be weird if you maybe backed up just a bit more to feel more of him?
“Looks like I’ll be scaring a lot of creeps off tonight,” he murmured breathily as he leaned into your ear, without a doubt feeling your shaky inhale that followed. Your eyes met his in the mirror. His eyes looked predatory in a way you hadn’t seen before, but in a way your lower half seemed to greatly enjoy.
“You could just stay with me and nobody would even bother me,” you whispered. While a part of you might curse you for killing your chances of bringing a guy back with you to let loose, a larger part of you didn’t care. A part of you that only cared for Hoseok’s company, whatever that might mean for the two of you. You couldn’t help it when he was looking at you like that.
He gave you a grin and a quick laugh, releasing you as if it had never happened.
“I would never ask you to do that. But if you can’t keep away,” he raised his brows teasingly at you, “feel free!”
Tension seemingly broken, you both left your apartment, prepared to spend the night in a whirlwind of alcohol and dancing. Perhaps you would leave your not-so-innocent thoughts of your best friend behind in your apartment too.
--
Despite his words, Hoseok seemed to be taking your earlier request quite literally, remaining beside you at the bar as you both drank. Despite telling yourself you’d come to dance and have a good time, dancing was perhaps… not your forte. To put it bluntly, you were awful. There was no way you were going to make a fool of yourself next to your friend’s perfect rhythm without a drink or four in you.
Despite downing two tequila shots and nursing a jack and coke, you hadn’t reached the point where you were tipsy enough to put yourself out there. Unlike you, however, Hoseok was eyeing the sea of bodies on the dancefloor as though if he stared hard enough he would teleport there.
“You don’t have to wait for me, you know,” you said, leaning into his side so that you could be heard over the music. “I’ll join you soon, go have fun!” you grinned at him, nudging him lightly. Clearly, that was the only push he needed, the look of excitement on his face making you feel something less-than-platonic. The fact that he was almost definitely waiting for your affirmation that you were okay alone had your stomach fluttering.
“I’ll be back soon!” he bounded off, making it about halfway there before he turned around and yelled might have been “watch my drink,” not that you could hear anything. You gave him a grin and a thumbs up before downing the rest of the gin and tonic he left behind. That counts, right?
While a club wasn’t typically your type of scene, it worked well as a distraction. After all, it wasn’t as if you could focus on much else when music was thrumming in your ears and alcohol was slowly making its way through your veins. Despite the noise, there was something peaceful about drinking in a place where everyone around you seemed to only have the same goals as you. Sometimes you end up taking someone home and letting the distraction extend through the whole night, depending on your mood.
Speak of the devil, you thought, hearing someone pull out the chair next to you. You painted a smile on your face and looked over, ready to toss your hair. Unfortunately for you, this guy seemed to be a little too gone for your liking. He was looking at you, but his eyes barely seemed to focus on yours.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he somehow managed to slur out despite his appearance. You gave him a polite smile and a light “hello” before turning to look at your phone. You hoped that was the end of that. Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case, as you felt a hand on your shoulder.
“What are you doing here alone, beautiful?” he said, leaning closer to you. Was this guy serious? Did he study how to hit on a girl at the bar using only porn?
As you were shrugging his hand off, you thankfully spotted Hoseok making his way over to you alone. Once he was within arms’ reach, you quickly reached for his hand, lacing your fingers together.
“I’m not alone,” you boasted, pulling Hoseok as close as possible. You prayed he got the memo and didn’t question what you were doing. But of course, as expected from your best friend, he only wrapped his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your hair from behind.
“Come dance, princess,” he requested, loudly enough for your newfound “companion” to hear. Your smile faltered upon hearing the nickname, face suddenly feeling hot. It wasn’t as though he’d never called you that before, but it had always been just to tease you. Despite the shock of embarrassment, the term of endearment left you giddy. Or perhaps that was finally the alcohol catching up to you.
Hopping off of the barstool and slapping down enough bills to cover the drinks you both had, you turned to face Hoseok, his hands never having left you. Your eyes met, the warmth in his gaze making you feel instantly at ease again. It was at that moment you became incredibly aware of his hands on your bare waist, fingers rubbing lightly at the small of your back.
You’re sure it was meant to be a comforting touch. A friend’s touch. And perhaps when you were slightly less tipsy you would have accepted it as such. But at the moment, his soft and caring hands were sending shivers up your spine, and you sincerely hoped he didn’t feel the way you subconsciously arched into his touch.
The effect he had on you really wasn’t fair. Well, two can play at that game, you thought, disregarding the fact that he probably wasn’t doing anything on purpose. Or maybe he was – he’s proven himself to be quite the devil, after all.
You took the opportunity to shamelessly drag your hands up his abdomen and across his chest, revelling in the firmness you felt beneath the shirt. Your eyes followed your hands, staring intensely as if with enough willpower, you would be able to see through it. As your arms finally made their way around his neck, your eyes met and what you saw there had you freezing for a moment.
You’ve only seen such intensity in his eyes on few occasions. When you’ve seen him in intense conversations over the phone, giving advice to his juniors, or urging you to open up about your problems. But never in this context. He looked, quite frankly, as though he wanted to devour you.
Despite your initial shock, the desire on his face gave you a rush of both lust and confidence.
“Let’s dance, then,” you stated, giving him a look that you hoped was as sultry as you thought it was. Either you succeeded or men are just simple creatures, but he followed you toward the dance floor with an enthusiasm that was unusual even for him.
Passing through the mess of sweaty bodies, you found a spot where the two of you had enough room to dance freely. Rather, Hoseok was dancing freely while you had your fingers laced behind your neck, swaying awkwardly. As confident as you had been, that didn’t mean you had suddenly gained skills in dancing.
“Relax. Nobody is judging you,” he assured you, hands on your hips, “just match what I’m doing,” he beamed at you, trying to make you more comfortable. Despite your hesitance, you were unwilling to end this little game between you and Hoseok just because of your dance skills. Or lack thereof.
You inched yourself even closer to his warm body, until your chests were pressed together, your face pressed into the curve of his neck. You closed your eyes, allowing Hoseok to guide your body along with his. It made it easier not having to look at him. Your brief reprieve didn’t last for long, though.
Just as you were getting comfortable, you felt Hoseok’s nails dragging lightly up your back, starting near the waistband of your skirt and continuing up, under your sweater. You jumped, not expecting the sudden sensation, but he only continued. You shivered, pushing yourself even closer to his body, breasts squished against his chest. Damn Jung Hoseok and his magical hands.
If he was going to touch you like that, the least you could do is return the favour, right?
You reached your hands up to entangle them in his hair, your mouth moving to brush against the spot right above his collarbone. You felt, rather than heard his response, his chest rumbling. A moan? Groan? Growl? You didn’t know, and you didn’t care much if you were being honest.
Since he wasn’t pulling away nor was he pausing the actions of his hands, you decided to throw all caution to the wind. Your mouth pressed against the delicate skin of his neck, sucking lightly before running your teeth along the area. His response was immediate. Head thrown back, he dug his nails into your back hard enough for you to hiss. But that didn’t stop you from holding his head in place, mouthing further up towards his ear, becoming braver and braver with each passing moment.
You had your fun for a few seconds before you were spun around, back pressed to Hoseok’s front.
“Y/N,” he leaned down and growling in your ear, his hands splayed across your abdomen dangerously close to your breasts, “I know you know what you’re doing.”
Feeling his hot breath in your ear had any reply you could have made caught in your throat. Rather than verbalize a response, you only pressed your ass further into him, feeling the unmistakeable bulge in his jeans, confirmed by his groan in your ear.
“If you’re going to tell me off, now’s the time,” he warned. You almost laughed. Tell him off? It was about time the tension between you two went somewhere, and you were eager to see what else he could do with those hands of his.
Not trusting yourself not to be snarky, you instead reached back to tangle your hands back into his locks, eyes fluttering shut and breasts thrust forward as if offering yourself to him and whatever he wanted to do to you.
“I’m going to fucking ruin you, princess,” he whispered lowly to you, hand rising to cup your breast. His words coupled with finally having his hands somewhere besides your middle instantly had your body heating up, heart pounding.
As he dragged a hand up your thigh, it was as if nothing else existed but the two of you and the trail of fire he seemed to be carving along your body. It was embarrassing how he didn’t even touch you properly yet, but you were already bending to his every whim, panties sticking uncomfortably to your heat.
“Tell me,” he began, tonguing lightly at your earlobe, “if I were to touch you right now, would you be ready for me already?” His nails dragged lightly along the soft skin of your inner thigh, the sensation quickening your breath. You wanted nothing more than for that hand to continue its path, subtly widening your stance in invitation.
Clearly not subtle enough, however, as the next thing you heard was a chuckle in your ear. “Open your eyes, sweetheart,” he growled, “Do you want everyone here to see you spread out nicely just for me?”
It was as if an ice bucket had been thrown over your head. Your enrapturement with your best friend honestly had you forgetting you were in public, surrounded by people bumping and grinding. Luckily, despite his words, it didn’t appear that anyone was looking at you.
Sheer embarrassment ran through you as you begun pulling away from Hoseok. Sure, on your lonely nights the shameless part of your brain told you to “risk it all” despite your friendship, but getting it on in public at the club was definitely not what you meant.
Sensing your discomfort and shame, he reached for your shoulders, inviting you to look him in the eye. What you saw there was not teasing or lustful, but sweet and compassionate.
“Come home with me?” he asked simply. Despite the lack of blatant suggestion, you understood the implication. While you two didn’t go to places like these often, at the end of the night you always went your separate ways. Whether it be that one of you found someone else to take home, or you were just too tired to continue hanging out until 4 am.
No, this wasn’t an invitation to go to his apartment and watch a movie. This was an invitation to continue what you’d started here. And despite your self-consciousness after nearly allowing Hoseok to stick his entire hand into your panties in public, you didn’t want him any less.
“Okay,” you replied, damn the consequences.
--
Despite your adamance earlier, upon arriving at Hoseok’s apartment you couldn’t help the sense of dread that washed over you. You had no doubt that Hoseok loved you, and you had no doubt that you wanted this. You knew he wanted you, you weren’t that oblivious. But you hadn’t talked properly about this. You’d have sex – and then what? You pretend it never happened? You continue having sex? You date? He regrets it and never speaks to you again? You at least had to believe he wouldn’t do the last one.
“Y/N,” his voice snapped you out of your thoughts, “I know exactly what you’re thinking. You don’t want to ruin everything, right?” he inquired softly, hands cupping your face, preventing you from hiding. You’d never tried to conceal any emotion from him; he was too perceptive for his own good.
“You know I love you, right?” he prodded, only continuing when you nodded your head. “I want to try this with you, okay? Not just tonight, but everyday after that too. I want to take you out properly, I want to make you happy. But only if you want that too,” he said, sincerity shining in his eyes. Trust Hoseok to know exactly what to say to put you at ease.
“You’re too good at this,” you smiled bashfully, looking down at your feet. But your emotion was unmistakeable – this was probably going down as one of the happiest moments in your life. You reached for his hands, lacing both of your fingers together before tilting your head up.
“Kiss me,” you breathed, the last of your diffidence having evaporated upon seeing the care in Hoseok’s eyes and hearing the honesty in his words.
You didn’t need to tell him twice. Within seconds his mouth was on yours, hands pushing up your sweater to feel more of you. His touch was demanding, and you weren’t one to deny him. He kissed with an intensity that left you only able to follow his wishes, not giving you one second to catch your bearings.
“Off,” he demanded harshly, already tugging your sweater up over your breasts, only waiting for you to lift your arms. When you did, his mouth instantly travelled down your body, stopping to press heated kisses over your bra. He simultaneously slotted a thigh between your legs, pulling you forward to feel the first proper contact to your heat that you’d been waiting for all night. You ground against it instinctively, moaning at the feeling of the hard muscle beneath his pants rubbing against your clit.
You started pulling your skirt up, wanting desperately to feel Hoseok’s body against your own with as little material between you as possible. When he seemed to notice what you were doing, he groaned from his place over your other breast.
“Look at you, so needy and impatient for me,” he chuckled, hands reaching down to hold the globes of your ass, taking control of the motion of your hips. His mouth making his way back up to your throat, he coupled a harsh bite with an upward thrust of his thigh, having you cry out. You knew you were dripping for him and he hadn’t even touched you properly yet.
If Hoseok wasn’t there to hold your entire body up against his, you were certain you would’ve been a limp noodle on the floor by now. All you could do was hold onto his slim waist for dear life, taking every ounce of pleasure he bestowed upon you.
That was, until he delivered a sharp smack to your ass and suddenly stopped all motion. You whimpered at the loss, trying to move your hips on your own once again only to have strong hands gripping your thighs, preventing you from moving. You looked up at Hoseok, desperation clear on your face.
He sunk a fist into your hair, gripping tightly at the root and pulling your head back. You whined at the pain, but couldn’t deny the rush of wetness you felt at the harsh action.
“You’re so naughty, princess,” he sneered, all trace of the sweet and understanding best friend gone from his face, “So desperate for me already. Do you think I can’t feel how wet my leg is because of you?” he questioned, pulling further to put your entire neck on display. Your eyes fluttered closed, overwhelmed by how much you enjoyed being under his control.
“You’re such a filthy little whore for me, taking whatever I give you,” he went on, nose making its way up your neck to your ear until all you could hear was his heavy breathing. “If you’re good for me, I’ll give you everything, okay?” he demanded. You let out a low moan, nodding as much as the hand gripping your hair allowed.
Clearly, that wasn’t the response he wanted. His other hand reached out to cover your throat, fingers pressing lightly at the sides. You let out a sound suspiciously close to a squeak.
“Words from now on, okay princess?” he reprimanded, actions disparate from the caring tone encapsulating his words.
“Okay,” you managed to get out somehow, despite your brain floating somewhere in the clouds while your body was subject to the manhandling that was driving you crazy. If you were being honest, one part of you was ready to worship the ground he walked on while the other part still couldn’t believe this was happening.
He released his tight grip on you. “Go to my room. I want you naked by the time you’re there,” he ordered, giving you a light push from behind. A moment’s hesitation was broken by the sound of a throat clearing, your hands reaching behind you to unhook your bra as you made your way to Hoseok’s bedroom.
You made sure to sway your hips lightly as you walked, rewarded by an almost inaudible groan. You pushed your skirt and panties off in one go, opting to bend over at the waist rather than crouch down as you removed them. Completely bare and bent over nearing the doorway to Hoseok’s room, you were sure your glistening folds were in full view from behind.
You ached for him to touch you, eagerly making your way into the bedroom before stopping beside the bed.
“Come here,” he commanded gruffly, pushing you down in front of him, his right hand returning to grip at your roots. It was at that moment, on your knees in front of him completely naked while he was fully dressed, you became fully aware of how powerless you were here. You wanted to please him so badly, you would do whatever he wanted and thank him for it.
You reached out a hand towards the fly of his jeans, only to be intercepted by his left hand harshly slapping you away.
“Did I say you could touch me?” he jeered, knuckles tightening in your hair, “hands behind your back.”
You didn’t know Hoseok had it in him to be so demanding when he was typically so sweet to you, but his words and hard gaze had you slowly crossing your arms behind your back, staring up at him with wide eyes.
“I’m going to fuck this mouth, princess,” he taunted, left hand gripping roughly at your jaw, forcing it open. “Your teasing has been driving me fucking insane. Take my cock out.”
You looked up at him in confusion, about to reach out with your hands, but he simply shoved your face into his crotch in impatience. This was so degrading, face hot with embarrassment, but you were loving every second of it. Teeth finally catching the zipper after a few seconds of struggle, you pulled it down slowly. As you bit into the fabric of his jeans to attempt to unbutton them, you glanced up at him to find his eyes already on you. The lust you saw there inspired a new rush of wetness in your core.
Finally, with the crotch of his pants open, you roughly gripped the waist of his underwear with your teeth, harshly pulling down until his cock sprung out to hit you in the face. You opened your mouth, ready to take him in, but your head was tugged away before you could.
“If you need to stop, tap my leg twice, okay?” he said, palming himself.
“Okay,” you whispered, shifting slightly on your knees to make yourself more comfortable. Your affirmation was all he needed to shove his cock in your mouth, already deep enough that you were coughing.
Despite your initial shock, Hoseok’s hiss had you hollowing your cheeks, wanting to drag more and more sounds out of him. With his hand on you pulling you on and off of him, you worked your tongue along whatever length you had access to. Just as you were getting used to his motions, he roughly pulled you toward him as he thrust further with his hips, leaving you gagging. He held you there for a few seconds, and you raised your teary eyes to see his face screwed up in pleasure. The sight was enough to have you moaning around him.
He continued to roughly thrust his cock into your throat, your head held in place. Desperate to hold onto something, you dug your nails into your forearms, grounding you slightly. Shoving himself all the way in again, your nose pressed into his pelvis, you swallowed around his cock. His responding moan was loud and obscene, the sound making you shiver and groan around him.
You must have incited something in him, because if he was rough before, he was absolutely ruthless now. Rapidly shoving himself all the way in thrust after thrust, your tears were now flowing freely, unable to hold back your gags. He groaned loudly at the sight.
“So good for me, princess, so pretty,” he praised, wiping at your tears, “So, so good, god” he cut himself off with his own loud moan, and you keened at his praise.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he continued, slowing down before removing himself from your mouth with a pop. At the reprieve, you rested your forehead against his abdomen, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath with a sob.
Hoseok knelt down to meet you, hugging you close and stroking your hair. “You were so good, you took it so well,” he soothed, “I’m gonna take care of you, sweetheart.” He gently picked up your exhausted body, placing you on his bed amongst his pillows.
Still struggling to catch your breath, you didn’t quite register Hoseok in front of you on his knees, spreading your legs, until he begun mouthing his way up your thigh. Looking toward him, the sight you saw was breathtaking – eyes laser focused on your centre, hair messy from your previous antics. Having him so close to where you’ve been neglected snapped your attention back to the fact that you were utterly drenched for this man, desperate to have something inside you.
His focus still not where you needed it most, you whined, pushing your hips up in invitation.
“Shh… I’m gonna take care of you now,” he soothed, the dominant persona dropping momentarily. He didn’t give you much longer to dwell on your need before his mouth was latching onto your clit, sucking mercilessly. The sudden pleasure coursing through you had you choking out a moan, hips bucking up in an attempt to get even closer to the source of your pleasure. Forearm pressed across your abdomen to prevent any further movement, Hoseok’s tongue flicked back and forth across you quicker than your brain could register.
When you felt a single finger suddenly penetrate you fully, you cried out. The rush of relief you were feeling at that moment was like finding the oasis after an endless trek through a desert. Knowing your arousal, the stretch of a second finger came soon after, Hoseok’s tongue never pausing its assault on your clit. Feeling everything all at once after a night of tension and anticipation had you hovering dangerously close to the precipice of orgasm already, and curse Hoseok for knowing that.
His head lifted from you to observe you, and he cursed at the sight. “You’re so beautiful spread out like this, all for me,” he praised, and you clenched at his words. Realizing how much his talking affected you, you caught a grin plastered across his face.
“You look so fucked out already and I haven’t even put my cock in you,” he taunted, and you couldn’t deny that he was probably right. Your bottom lip was starting to hurt from biting down on it, your hair was messy from his hands, tear-tracks were dried to your cheeks, and you knew that meant your mascara likely had you looking like a raccoon.
The addition of a third finger sent you reeling, hips wanting so badly to grind against his hand but unable to move. “You’re so tight around me,” he cooed, fingers scissoring apart before crooking his fingers just right, forcing a moan out of your throat. “If you look like this already, I can’t wait to see what you look like when you cum,” he teased.
You gasped as he snuck in another finger, the stretch burning, but overpowered by the incredible feeling of fullness that came with it. It was all over for you when he bent his fingers once again, rubbing against that spot inside you – you couldn’t even breathe as the orgasm washed over you, riding the waves of pleasure as you dug your fingers into the sheets.
If you thought you would get a reprieve after that, you were wrong. His fingers only continued thrusting, despite your walls relentlessly clenching around him. When you felt his mouth return to your clit, everything was simply too much.
“It hurts, it hurts,” you whined, hips struggling to get away from the sharp ache.
“Baby, I know you can give me one more. Just relax and give into it,” he said sweetly, moving to suck bruises onto your inner thighs instead. One part of you wanted to tell him it’s easy for him to say when almost an entire fist wasn’t in him, but you weren’t even going to try to form the words. Your whole centre felt like it was on fire, the pace of Hoseok’s hand never stopping.
Attempting to follow his advice, you took a deep breath before relaxing your muscles, allowing the sensations to flow through you freely. You didn’t know why you ever doubted him, because god was this the most overwhelming pleasure you’ve ever felt. You choked out a loud moan, the growing bliss slowly overtaking your brain until you didn’t know anything else, mind completely blank. You didn’t realize the hand holding you down was gone until you heard a gruff voice, laced with desire.
“Look at you, fucking yourself on my fingers. You’re so filthy, just take it, princess.” He paused his own actions to let you move on your own accord, your hips moving erratically as you chased your own end. You were dangerously close to the peak when Hoseok pressed the palm of his other hand roughly against your clit for you to rut against. Your orgasm swept you away, voice crying out helplessly as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. Static crackled in your ears, and you swore you could see white behind your eyelids.
By the time self-awareness returned to you, you were already face down, ass up, the only thing keeping your boneless body in place being Hoseok’s hands. You must have missed the sound of his pants unzipping, because when you felt his cock thrust fully into your aching heat, you screamed.
Everything felt far too much, far too fast. Each thrust of Hoseok’s hips only had you receding further and further into your head, the only thing you knew being his thickness between your walls and the tears streaming down your face.
You were full on sobbing, the sensation of him fucking you relentlessly feeling both like the best thing you’ve ever experienced and the most intense ache.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good around me, princess,” he said coarsely, thrusts not slowing down for even a second. He growled loudly, arms wrapping around your waist to pull your ass higher. You were completely powerless, only able to let out strangled cries and choked sobs as Hoseok took his pleasure from you. When he paused to grind against you, length fully seated within you, you cried out weakly.
“It’s too – too much, I can’t,” you managed to slur out, body limp, your face pressed into a pillow. In response, Hoseok grabbed hold of your throat, pulling your face out and into the open for him to see.
“Baby,” he cooed, sounding disappointed, “you can do just one more for me, can’t you, princess?” he demanded, continuing to thrust as he held up your head, squeezing lightly around your neck.
“You’re such a fucking mess, aren’t you? You say you can’t take more but your cunt squeezing around me says otherwise,” he grunted, not letting up on you whatsoever. His nasty words and wild thrusts left you whimpering, head lolling forward as you simply lacked the strength to hold it up.
“My little kitten’s gonna cum, isn’t she? You feel so fucking tight, are you gonna cream my cock, princess?” You could feel your walls clenching around him, your eyes open but seeing nothing as you could only let out small whines. When he reached between your legs to rub at your clit, you could only gape soundlessly as you were pushed over the edge, body wracked with sobs as you pulsed around him. When he continued his thrusts, you thought you were going to break.
“Please – I can’t, Hobi I can’t,” you babbled, uncaring about whether he could actually understand your words. Chest heaving, you were barely present when you felt Hoseok removing himself from you, moaning loudly before you heard a choked “fuck” accompanied by the sensation of wetness on your back.
When you felt the warm body pull away from you, you collapsed into the sheets, chest heaving, hardly registering the returning footsteps and the warm, wet cloth wiping down your face, back, and between your legs. You didn’t even open your eyes when you felt yourself being pulled into Hoseok’s lap, hand cradling your head against his chest.
“Y/N, still with me?” he asked softly, nails scratching softly at your scalp. You could only hum in response, throat too raw and body too weak to do anything more. “Will you drink some water for me?” he continued upon hearing your weak affirmation.
Despite how heavy you felt, water sounded really good right now. You tilted your head back just enough to meet his gaze, finding him smiling gently down at you, affection in his eyes. He held a water bottle up to your lips, urging you to drink.
Once you’d had your fill, you nuzzled your face back into Hoseok’s chest, grounding yourself in the musky scent of his cologne. It was at that moment you realized the coarseness of the material touching you.
“Hobi,” you whined, sticking your hands up his shirt to feel his skin.
“What is it, princess?” he responded kindly.
“You still have clothes on,” you pouted up at him, “Take it off,” you demanded as menacingly as you could in your current situation – probably not very threatening.
He giggled lightly at your command, quickly pulling away to shuck away his shirt, jeans following. Once he was as bare as you, he tugged you down to lay on top of him, head resting on his chest as his hand traced patterns on your back. The sound of his heartbeat in your ear and his soft hands brought you fully into the present, aware of the state of your body and just how sore you were between your legs.
“Hobi,” you whined again, looking up to meet his warm gaze. You were met with a soft hum that rumbled in his chest before you continued, “you killed me.”
The laugh he gave you then was fuller than before, the sound inviting a small smile onto your face. “I’m sorry, princess. You know I love you, right?” The phrase was no different than what he would tell you any other day, but this time you knew the underlying emotion was something different. You squeezed your arms around his waist, hiding your face in his neck.
Maybe you were too embarrassed to say it back, but he knew how you felt, clear as day. You’ve always been an open book to him, knowing when you were in need of a hug or simply an ear.
“Lunch tomorrow?” he asked quietly, brushing your hair away from your face. You lifted your head to meet his eyes when you smiled at him. You hoped for this to be the first of many outings together as more than just best friends.
“Lunch sounds good.”
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quazartranslates · 3 years ago
Text
Welcome to the Nightmare Game II - CH57
**This is an edited machine translation. For more information, please [click here]**
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Chapter 57: Purgatory Reunion (IX) {cw: torture}
At this moment, Qi Leren’s shock was completely written on his face, and this surprise and shock sent the wrong message—Ning Zhou's hand trembled and suddenly let go.
"Wait!" Qi Leren realized that he had made a mistake and quickly took Ning Zhou's hand. "I was just a little surprised. I didn't mean it. I'm, I'm very happy."
This joy was sincere. Although Qi Leren thought this progress was too fast, unexpectedly, he didn't want to refuse, but thought that this was also quite good. They had experienced too many separations and tortures, so these people who loved each other should be together. Besides, he had already received Ning Zhou's ring—one on his tombstone at Undead Island and one on his left hand when he’d woken up in the tree tomb. He had also wished to give this heart to Ning Zhou in return—in the letter he’d written to Ning Zhou that was not received.
"Really?" Ning Zhou asked.
Qi Leren nodded hard: "Really!"
Ning Zhou smiled; the gloom in his heart immediately dissipated, and the uncontrollable thought of wanting to destroy everything quietly sank to the bottom again.
Qi Leren was still looking at him, and his brown eyes were a little uneasy, but there wasn’t even the slightest reluctance, which convinced Ning Zhou that he really was willing.
The person he loved had returned to him with the same strong and meaningful emotions. Even if God didn't bless them, they were still inseparable.
This thought had given him peace of mind, and his world was no longer withering and dead at last. The warm sunshine illuminated this barren land and made him reborn.
So he took his hand again and walked forward firmly.
  &&&
The underground casino mentioned by the contact Celia was located in a remote part of the lower Underground Ant City. The rail cars weren’t directly connected to the lower part of the city, so Qi Leren and Ning Zhou had to get off the bus outside it and enter on foot.
The chaos of the Underground Ant City became more and more prominent in the lower city. Within the boundary of the upper city, there was at least a basic order, and there were few violent conflicts in the streets. However, when the two entered the lower city, the world they could see was almost a hell: dirty old streets, ragged pedestrians, and eyes that were numb or malicious... In the shadows of the street corners, Qi Leren even saw several bodies, which seemed to be an inescapable element of this place.
There was the scent of blood in the air, and Qi Leren's five senses had been enhanced after breaking the shell. The consequence of a keen sense of smell was that he could smell these unpleasant smells more easily than before.
Following the clue given by Celia, the two people who were dressed in disguises came all the way to the underground casino. The skinny doorman standing by the entrance secretly glanced at the two strange guests wearing masks. The tall one stood straight and was out of place in the lower city. The shorter one was dressed in an exaggerated sexy leather coat, and glanced at him and gave him a tip of copper coins.
The doorman hurriedly pushed open the door, and with its opening, the bloody and absurd world behind the door appeared.
It was like a greedy beast driven by desire, constantly devouring life.
Both human beings and demons became confused once they entered this trap, would lose their senses, bet everything on their person, and be ruined.
The world behind the door was a crimson hell, and the strong scent of blood made the people who had just set foot inside hold their breath. The floor of this dark underground casino was soaked with a layer of blood! Stepping a foot down, the sticky blood splashed on his shoes, and even slowly seeped in, and the sticky and disgusting feeling made Qi Leren's hair stand upright.
Crazy cries echoed in this dark underground world. Both humans and demons stared at the chips on the table excitedly, and went crazy whether they won or lost.
There was also a gambler who was being punished in the corner of the casino. He was stripped naked and hung upside down from the ceiling. Several lower demons laughed and urged him to bet: "There’s a 'leg' missing, will the next one be the left leg or the right leg!"
The gambler who had fainted from the severe pain of castration had a bowl of pain-killing medicine poured down his throat, and he choked up with tears, whining and groaning.
A little hellhound knelt in the pool of blood, licking its lips and excitedly watching the blood bubbling up between the legs of a castrated gambler. Fresh blood was as delicious as wine for demons.
"I bet my left leg! Left leg! Betting high! This one must win!" The gambler who had been called back by the pungent demon blood widened his bloodshot eyes and shouted at the top of his lungs.
The dice on the gambling table were lifted, and the gambler's fanatical expression instantly solidified on his face.
The demons smiled grimly, and cut off one of his legs. The gambler screamed hysterically, but he only got a casual glance from the other gamblers. They laughed and laughed at the unlucky goner who had lost everything, and didn’t feel that every time they bet, they were moving closer to him.
Ning Zhou frowned, and all the absurdity and depravity here made his skin crawl. This wasn’t the first time he had come to the demons’ territory, nor the worst place he had ever seen, but...
Ning Zhou looked at Qi Leren beside him. His face was hidden behind half a mask, showing his tight mouth. From his body language, his mood at the moment was just as heavy and tense.
However, when a scantily clad female dealer came up to them, Qi Leren’s manner changed immediately.
In a moment, Qi Leren half turned, and committedly took his arm. He looked up and whispered in his ear: "You keep quiet, let me ask about things."
Ning Zhou's ears turned red, and he couldn't help but feel glad that the lights here were dim enough. However, Qi Leren, who had already broken his shell, could completely see his red ears and shouted “cute!” in his heart.
The dealer stood in front of the two men. She should have stood closer, but these two gays may not welcome her approach, so she politely asked, "Is this your first time here?"
"Why, are we not welcome?" Qi Leren's voice changed. Although it was still a male voice, it was more delicate and feminine than ordinary men. The deliberately drawn out tone was full of ambiguous dissatisfaction.
"How can that be?" the dealer quickly apologized. "What do the two of you want to play?"
Qi Leren pointed to the table with the most people: "Let's play whatever’s there."
The dealer led the two men to go forward with light steps, her slender high heels sticking on the foul blood.
The gambler who was being punished in the corner had already lost his legs. He was put down, whining and crawling in the pool of blood. The little hellhound opened its mouth and bit his wound. The lower demons laughed and talked over their glasses while urging it on.
"Whether I bet big or small, you double your chips and bet against me," Qi Leren whispered to Ning Zhou.
Behind his mask, Ning Zhou looked puzzled.
"Believe me, getting rich depends on this trick." Qi Leren showed a weak smile.
“……”
The dealer handed them exchange chips and enthusiastically helped two people place their bets. In her eyes, the two men were really strange. Not because they were wearing masks, but because...
"Low." This person wearing a half-mask casually gathered a few chips and carelessly threw them into the low area.
The dealer silently turned her attention to the other person, and sure enough, the man put double chips in another area.
The other gamblers at the table made random bets, and no one noticed this slightly weird scene.
The dice rolled, and the result was self-evident.
The chips in front of the man wearing a half-mask decreased at a speed visible to the naked eye, but the chips in front of his companion were increasing. After several rounds, he finally felt bored. He pointed to the chips in front of the two of them and motioned for the dealer to put them away. He held the man's arm and whispered with him, and he also giggled.
As if he was aware of the dealer's sight, he turned his face slightly, and his eyes hidden behind the mask swept over her coldly, but there was a charming smile on his mouth: "I don't like you looking at my man with eyes like that. Next time you look at him like this, I’ll dig them out."
"I'm sorry." The dealer immediately lowered her head, intently looking at her blood-stained feet, and never looked at the two men.
"Good girl. This is a reward for learning politeness." The man stuffed a chip into her bra and laughed maliciously. "When I look closer, your makeup is really thick. I’ll remind you that your facial features are really not suited for this kind of heavy makeup."
With that said, he returned to the man's side and he muttered a few words.
The dealer kept her head down and let herself be silenced under the strong aura of these two men. 
"By the way, I want to ask you about someone." The man wearing a half-mask lazily uttered a name.
The witness had been a frequent visitor to this underground casino, and he is also the last person to see the illusionist. He had claimed to have met the Illusionist who wore women’s clothing in this underground casino. After that, both the Illusionist and this person disappeared, and even the informants who came to verify had disappeared.
It was risky to ask directly. Qi Leren didn't expect to get the answer he wanted from an ordinary dealer. He just wanted to test how deep the water here was.
"I’ve heard the name... but I haven’t served him before. Let me ask for you?" the dealer asked carefully.
"Sure."
So the two men sat down in front of a coffee table in a quiet corner of the underground casino, and there was no overwhelming scent here. Qi Leren just squeezed into the same sofa with Ning Zhou—he had a very honest reason: it was so that they could quietly communicate at any time.
The female dealer who had just left came back with a tall male dealer. He looked like a higher-up and his face was reserved and arrogant: "Hello, I heard you’re looking for someone?"
"Trying to find a friend," Qi Leren said lightly.
"He hasn't come for several days. Maybe he walked into the pub and couldn’t climb back out." The dealer seems to be familiar with the missing witness, but his tone was full of the coldness and indifference particular to this place.
"Which pub?" Qi Leren asked carelessly.
The male dealer's expression changed slightly. He asked with slight suspicion: "Aren't you his friend?"
A mistake, he had said the wrong thing. Cold sweat flowed down Qi Leren, and Ning Zhou held his hand tightly.
Qi Leren's nervous brain was running at a rapid speed, and he switched from a state of casual handling to a state of first-level alert. He had to round up his words and at least explain why he was a "friend" of that person, knowing the underground casino he loved but not the pub he loved.
"Friend?" Qi Leren's smile was even more fake. The deep ridicule and disgust beneath it were completely written in his smile. "Can you call someone who doesn’t pay back his debt a friend?"
The male dealer suddenly realized that he was a debt collector.
This wasn’t surprising. In this place full of gamblers, the debts of this group of people added up to an extremely horrible number, which was enough for them to sell everything they owned, whether it was their wives, their children, or their own bodies.
"I heard that he often comes here. It's a pity. If he used the time he spent gambling here to sell his ass instead, he wouldn't owe so much." Qi Leren dragged out an ambiguous sound and looked at the gambler amidst the crowd in the distance. His smile grew colder. "Or does the fool prefer to lose his hands and feet here, but doesn't want to work hard to pay his debts?"
The two dealers also looked at the man. He had already lost his legs and arms, leaving only a bare head hanging from his neck as he slowly died in a pool of blood. The demons around him were cutting his tongue and belly, and choosing the best parts from the blood-covered table.
The light steps of a woman came from behind them.
Qi Leren didn't look back, but Ning Zhou did, looking at the shameless woman.
The two dealers stood up from their chairs together and said respectfully, "Manager."
The female manager took a few steps forward again, gave Qi Leren an appraising look, and saw his slightly exposed leather coat from his half-mask, and then saw his boots covered with silver ornaments.
"Mr. Red?" Her face pulled into a grandiose smile, "is it really you? I haven't heard from you for a long time."
Qi Leren was startled. Red? How could this fake identity he had fabricated while undercover with the Slaughter Secret Society have acquaintances in Underground Ant City? He had never seen this woman at all.
"The Mrs is waiting for you, please be sure to join us."
-----
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spooky-z · 4 years ago
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In your pack au it says that the Fam know about everything since the pack thought that it would be easier this way instead of having to explain everything later, but what about the other superheros? What would happen if on a mission Damian is captured or hurt and the other heros/JL/Teen Titans members are panicking only to have this group of FERAL animal themed heros bust in to save the day?
Here it is. 1.3k of badass pack!
PACK’S FURY
Warning: blood. Lots of blood and violence. Gore (I think) and Dark.
Blood.
There was blood, a lot of blood.
Damian's blood.
Damian, who was as limp as a rag doll in Bruce's arms after being hit by a bullet.
Weak pulse, unconscious.
Everyone was fighting and she should be doing the same, but the sight of Damian, fragile and broken, was glued to her eyes. Burning like fire soaked in alcohol.
Everything Marinette was capable of feeling; anger running through every part of her body, from the sole of her foot, to the root of her hair. The fear of losing someone she loved. Impotence for not being able to prevent it from happening ...
She was ready.
Ready to finish.
To destroy.
To avenge.
And the pack, like her, wanted blood.
They wanted to hunt, bite, tear, crush, vaporize those responsible for this.
Viperion looked at Ladybug, he was barely able to control himself, wanting permission. A signal. Chat Noir had its claws embedded in the concrete. Queen Bee buzzed like an angry beehive. Ryuko had smoke coming out of her nose. Pegase and Roi Singe had murderous expressions.
They were waiting for the alpha prime command.
And Ladybug was already tired of waiting for Batman's signal.
They were losing.
A green hero - whom she vaguely resembles Damian calling him Garfield - had been knocked out by two villains. The shadowy girl in the cloak was overwhelmed looking after another group while trying to protect him.
Nightwing, Red Robin, Red Hood and Blue Beetle were trapped and injured by dozens of men.
Star Fire fought and tried to cover Batman, who protected Damian.
Meanwhile, the man who had shot Damian, watched everything as if it were the best comedy film he had ever seen.
"... Leave him to me." She says, her voice clinical and emotionless. “Make them regret hurting what's belongs the pack. I want them to suffer.”
It didn't take much more words for the group to come out of hiding and attack.
Chat Noir's cataclysm vaporized dozens at once; Queen Bee paralyzed everyone she could, while Roi Singe and Pegase destroyed them; Ryuko cremated everyone who dared to get close; Viperion took no care in breaking necks.
They paved the way for alpha prime to reach her goal.
American heroes - and aliens - looked horrified by the bloodbath. The mad eyes. The cruel smiles when blood spilled and the henchman fell dead on the floor.
"My God." Nightwing whispered, incredulous of what he was watching.
Children who were once pure sun and rainbows were now bloodthirsty demons looking for revenge. He felt his stomach churn.
Red Robin believed that it could only be a hallucination induced by some toxin, because it couldn't be real.
Red Hood had sat on the floor, worn out and not at all surprised. He knew what potentialized hatred was capable of doing to even the best of men.
Blue Beetle, Raven and Beast Boy - who had woken up - retreated amid the carnage. That group was an uncertain and unstable group, they didn't know if they could be trusted.
Star Fire was in a defensive position, even though she knew who they were, instinct speaking louder than reason. Her tension grew when one of them, all in green with scales, approached her and Batman.
The whole place froze watching the scene.
He held out his arms to the man, paying no attention to her.
"Give him to me." Demanded.
Batman stepped back as if to hide Robin from the other hero, but the angry whistle and the icy gaze held him in place.
"I said, give him to me." He waved his hands. “You don't want to face the fury of the pack, Batsy. We are not in our best mood right now, so you better cooperate.”
Batman hesitated for a moment, but ended up handing Robin over to the other hero.
"What-" Star Fire murmured confused when Robin was placed on the floor.
The boy did not seem to have heard her as he bent over Robin's body, placing his left hand over the bullet wound in the kevlar.
For a moment, she thought he was mourning over his body, but then his hand began to shine and the glow began to envelop the vigilant’s entire body. The light show didn't last barely five seconds before it went out and Robin stood up in panic, choking on the air.
The chest, where there should have been a bullet hole, now fully healed. No traces of blood.
He looked confused at everyone, before his gaze landed on the scaly hero.
“Viperion? What are you doing here?"
The hero sighed in relief and smiled.
"We came to take what was ours, Ure."
"We...?" And then he noticed the unusual color in the place.
Queen Bee strangling the last henchman on the floor.
"Did you come to Gotham because of me?!" He complained.
Viperion opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted.
"We would go to hell for the pack, my love." Ladybug replied.
She was standing in the center of all the carnage. The red-spattered face and the black gloves of the suit, dripping blood on the concrete floor. At her feet, Harvey Dent – Two-Face - lay dead. The jaw completely broken, the left eye missing and the right arm at an unnatural angle.
Damian's heart raced at the sight.
His angel had become a demon and all he could think about was how he wanted to kiss her breathlessly.
"We have a rule of not killing, Ms. Ladybug." Batman cut Robin's line of thought. "You and your... pack... just killed thirty men without mercy."
The pack made a mocking sound.
Ladybug raised an eyebrow at the man.
"And...?" Her voice was icy. “They took what is mine. They hurt and almost killed him.” The Parisian heroes - except Viperion, who still held Robin - approached her. "No one who hurts the pack, survives to tell a story."
Batman sighed tightly.
"Even so. We don't do that in Gotham.”
Ladybug put a finger to her chin, eyes away; seeming to ponder the man's words before focusing on him again. The face contorted in an animalistic expression.
"So, the next time Robin is sent on a solo mission, keep in mind that if he suffers any serious injury, it will happen again." She smiled bestially. “You're lucky that I'm not around your neck, Batsy. Because that's what I want to do.”
And everyone felt the truth in those words.
She was prepared to burn the whole world if the pack was attacked.
BONUS:
"Bro, Robin's girlfriend is scary like him." Beast Boy whispered to Blue Beetle.
"Her friends too." The bluish hero replied. “And what is this about a pack? Does it have to do with those animal suits?”
They didn't notice the presence behind them, until it was too late.
"You are very curious, huh." Chat Noir put his arms around the shoulders of the two heroes, who jumped in fright. He had a smile that would seem docile, if it weren't for the sharp look. “But I think it's better if you keep that curiosity for yourself. It's just like that proverb: curiosity killed the cat and I'm sure you don't want to die, right?"
Beast Boy and Blue Beetle nodded violently.
Chat Noir smiled even more.
"Great!" He released both of them and clapped his hands, passing them. “It was nice to finally meet the other Ure partners. I hope to be able to fight alongside you again in the future. Have to go now! Bye!" He waved and a portal opened in front of him, swallowing the hero and disappearing.
The american heroes were paralyzed by what had happened.
"I really hope I don't have to meet them again."
"I agree."
I hope I have met your expectations.
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Text
Bogotá Kiss
Prologue: There Was a Boy
Summary/Author’s Note: Javier Peña had finally gotten his life together. He was a newlywed, back in the states with his bride, and starting his new life free of Escobar and the world of the cartels. That is until he found his wife in bed with another man. On a path of self destruction, he goes back to Bogota, reclaims his job with the DEA, his partner Steve Murphy, and throws himself into his work, cheap whiskey, and the company of his...informants. 
You are a singer in the hottest burlesque club in Columbia. Pulling yourself out of poverty and into a world where men throw money at your feet, buy you diamonds, and pay untold amounts for your services. You don’t mind that the club’s biggest source of income is smuggling diamonds from the necks, wrists, and ears of its prostitutes and into the pockets of their buyers, until a handsome DEA agent gets too close and figures out the scheme. 
**IMPORTANT: For those familiar with Moulin Rouge--The reader will NOT die at the end. Fuck that. Let Javi be happy god dammit. 
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Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (Moulin Rouge/French Kiss AU) Word Count: 1.6k (its just a prologue, the next chapter will be better) Warnings (for entire fic): NC-17/18+ - Language, sex, prostitution, mentions/implied R*pe (nothing will ever be described in detail or used as a plot device), typical canon violence for NARCOS, shooting, attempted murder, drug use, blackmail, hurt/comfort, lies and betrayal, happy ending
[MASTERLIST]
"It's not what it looks like."
People didn't actually say that line, did they? And worse yet, no one actually would possibly believe it. Right? The words fell from her lips and suddenly Javier Peña felt like he was watching a movie about someone else's life. A cliché of a film in which the idiot of a husband walked in on his wife bouncing on the dick of another man. He was that idiot, and as she scrambled off the lap of the stranger and called his name, he slammed the door behind him, not bothering to wait for an explanation. Queue the laugh track or cut to the scene of him walking in the rain to somber music. 
Only this wasn't a movie. There would be no comedic relief, just a lot of heartache, wasted time and money. He had always had a bad habit of falling for the wrong girl. He would see himself mirrored in the eyes of the broken, the depressed, the ones who, much like him, just seemed unable to catch a break in life. But instead of getting a kindred spirit to share his world with, he usually just got a lot of baggage and a quick lay.  
He packed a bag, not giving a shit about any of his worldly possessions, and found himself at the Dallas airport, sitting at the bar and waiting for his gate number to be called. 
He raised two fingers, letting the bartender know he wanted a fucking double, as he held his cellphone to his ear and listened to it ring. The boxy phone didn't fit comfortably against his shoulder and he dropped it just as the other end picked up and Steve's voice came through.
"Murphy."
"Fuck. Shit." Javier fumbled the phone and held it back against his face.
"Javi?"
"Yeah, it's me." Javier sighed as he picked up his whiskey and tossed it back with a mild wince. "I'm on my way back."
"I heard." Steve paused. "Carolyn called. I told her I didn't know where you were."
"Thanks, 'appreciate it."
"I talked to Noonan. She said your job's still open. You can have it and the keys to your apartment." 
They both paused for an extended period of time. Javier ordered another shot of whiskey and Steve breathed quietly on the other end of the phone. Neither one of them had to say out loud what they both already knew. Javier had fallen for the wrong girl, again. His heart was broken and he wanted to drown out the ache he was feeling in cheap booze, a carton of Marlboro, and expensive pussy. 
"I'll pick you up from the airport. Safe trip, Jav."
"Thanks, Murph."
Javier pressed the button on the phone and rubbed his forehead with a heavy sigh. It was all smooth sailing from here. He was on his way back to normalcy, back to doing what he did best, hunting Narcos and not having any emotional ties to anything that mattered. 
--
The car ride from the airport had been quiet for the most part but Javier could tell that Steve was just dying to ask. So, when they parked in front of the apartment and neither one of them moved, he dug his smokes out of his jacket pocket and rolled down the window. He flicked his silver lighter to life and inhaled deeply as Steve shut off the engine. 
"Go ahead. Ask."
Steve sighed and looked at his friend. "What happened, man?"
"I let it go too far, like an idiot. And she couldn't even wait until the honeymoon was over before she tripped and landed on some other man's dick." He inhaled deeply and ran his thumb along his mustache. 
"Shit. I'm sorry--"
"Don't," Javier cut him off and shook his head. "Okay? Don't."
"You file for divorce?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "Lawyer is drawing everything up now so we can sign it." 
"I know you don't want to hear it, but I'm sorry, Javi. You seemed happy." Steve looked at him and Javier flicked his cigarette out of the window. 
"Yeah, I know." He took another long drag of his cigarette before tossing the butt out onto the sidewalk. “Tell Connie I said ‘hi’, okay?” 
With a mumbled thanks for the ride and a couple of quick 'see you tomorrows', he opened the car door and grabbed his suitcase out of the back seat and walked up the stairs and into the apartment building. He went through the motions of coming back to this place that he knew quite well, as he went downstairs and stuck his keys in the door without needing to turn on a light. 
He tossed his keys on the side table and kicked the door shut gently as he dropped his shoulder bag and looked around. The only furniture that the place had was the old embassy supplied leather couch, scuffed up coffee table, and bar stools against the kitchen counter. Fuck. That settled what he would be doing tomorrow, getting all his furniture out of storage and having the embassy replace what he didn’t have. 
Before tossing his leather jacket on the back of the couch, he got out another cigarette and let it bob between his lips as he mumbled to himself. He inhaled deeply and tossed his lighter next to his keys before making his way to the kitchen. When he opened the fridge, he didn’t know if he wanted to run upstairs and kiss her, or if he wanted to clutch his chest and cry. 
The entire appliance was completely bare and wiped out, the light making the white shelves look entirely too bright, but sitting in the middle of the top shelf was a covered casserole of some kind and a bottle of whiskey. A note was taped to the tin foil that read: 
“Bake at 350 for 30 minutes. Please eat something while you drink this. -- love, Connie.”
At least Steve knew how to pick a woman, because that’s exactly what Connie was, one hell of a woman. Javier grabbed the bottle of liquor and mentally promised Connie that he would eat later. He wasn’t hungry. He really hadn’t been hungry for the last few days, and as he looked at the whiskey and cracked the seal on the lid, he didn’t mourn that the kitchen didn’t have any glasses. He was well beyond the need for a glass. 
He took the bottle to the couch, kicked off his boots and plopped down heavily. The whiskey was a familiar burn down his throat and he felt it all the way to his belly. Warm, inviting, and just what he needed. Another drink was followed by a long drag of his cigarette before he kick backed and muttered, “Home, sweet, home,” to a cold, empty house.
--
The banging on the door permeated his skull in a way that he didn’t think was possible. But then again it had been a long time since he had been this hungover. He rolled over on the leather couch and shoved his face into the cushions and prayed that whoever wanted him would just go away. There was no one on this green earth that he wanted to speak to.
He must have fallen back asleep briefly because the next thing he knew, his partner had let himself into his apartment with his spare key and was nudging his leg that was hanging off the side of the couch. 
“Javi,” Steve said as he plucked the empty liquor bottle from under his friend’s arm. “Javi!” 
“Is too early,” Javier mumbled into the leather of the sofa.
“It’s 4 in the afternoon.” Steve said, setting the bottle on the coffee table. “I told Noonan you were taking the weekend to unpack--” Steve looked around the apartment and then back to the horizontal man. “Looks like you’re done.”
“Fuck you.”
Steve shook his head and put his hands on his hips. “Come on. You need a shower. I’d offer to buy you a drink but you smell like you’ve got that taken care of. So, how about a lap dance? There’s this new place on the other side of town--got your name written all over it.”
“Go away.”
Steve, rubbed his hand down his face and glared at the shell of the man that he had gotten to know over the last couple of years. The day Javier Peña turned down a lap dance, it would have been a cold day in hell and yet the evidence was right there in front of him. Someone needed to tell the devil to go check his thermostat.
“Mmkay.” Steve said sharply and took the empty bottle over to the sink and filled it about half way with tap water. When he dumped it on top of Javier’s head, the way the dark-haired man sputtered and sat straight up brought him more joy than it probably should have. “Good morning!”
“F-fucking hillbilly,” Javier cursed as he pulled the hem of his shirt up to wipe his face.
“Get your ass in the shower and I won’t tell Con that you didn’t eat her food she left you.” When his friend paused long enough to lower his shirt and glare at him, Steve continued. “I’m not fuckin’ around, Javi.”
The two men stood at odds of one another, but the blond refused to relent. Javier shoved his now soaking wet hair back from where it was plastered to his face and nodded. He stood with a groan and gave Steve his middle finger as he trudged to the bathroom at the end of the hall.
“Missed you, too, bud!” Steve cupped his hands around his mouth in a mock yell after the other man’s retreating form. It was going to be a long road to getting his partner back to his usual self, but the natural place to start was with some no-strings-attached pussy.
--
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