#it’s their own fault for forgetting their keys here

[sweet-as-kiwis]

I hate being the bigger person 24/7

[pepperyduck]

deadbeat - toji fushiguro

synopsis: too stupid and selfish for anything good to happen.

word count: 3.6k

warnings: angst, toji is an ass, marriage problems, arguements, pregnancy, like two paragraphs of smut, rushed relationships, ooc toji (probably), really bad writing, a bunch of timeskips cuz i'm lazy. (18+ mdni!)

notes: yeah this one is ass but i just wanted to make something sad/angry. much love! send me requests i'm begging </3.

edit: you can find pt. 2 here.

masterlist

 toji sits on a random bench downtown. he’s thinking. he thinks he’s too self-absorbed. and he’s rude, too rude for anyone to befriend him in a genuine way. he wishes he could change. toji’s left everyone in his life behind at some point. he gets overwhelmed sometimes, seeing all the people around him that more than likely have someone or something that keeps them going.

what does toji have? nothing. and it’s his own fault, too. he only has a stubbornness to him that won’t let him die. his mind is the only thing that keeps him going.

and then he sees you.

you plop down on the same bench, not next to him, but only a few feet away, rummaging through your bag to find something. you’re determined, not focused on the big scary man next to you. but to toji; you’re the first person in years that has sat next to him. he stares at you, as you still search for that something in your bag – your keys, toji sees you grab your keys. you look back up, finding toji staring at you, and he doesn’t break the contact with his eyes, he only continues to stare.

“are…you okay…?” you ask the man, giving him an awkward smile, “i’m sorry if i bothered you.”

once you speak, toji shakes his head, “no, no…you’re fine. i was just thinking,” toji says. you notice his gruff tone, yeah, it fits the way he looks perfectly. he’s muscular, and has dark, dark hair that matches the midnight sky with no stars. there’s also a bored look on his face, his eyes stay half-lidded, and his mouth sits in a natural frown. but he’s handsome, you think. very handsome. but it’s almost in an unconventional way – the scarring on his lips and overall structure of his face is like none other you’ve seen before.

call it love at first sight, call it whatever you want. but you felt a certain need for this man.

“thinking about what?” you ask, in an attempt to talk to him.

toji shakes his head again, “nothing important.”

you think that he probably has no interest in you, maybe you really did catch him off guard when you sat down next to him. but toji is thinking about how he’s never seen anyone like you, too, and he’s never had anyone willingly sit next to him and try to conversate. he thinks he’s too intimidating, and he is, to pretty much anyone else.

but you – you don’t get that from him. all you see is a possibly lonely, pretty man.

“what’s your name?” you question him again, cocking your head to the side.

“mm…toji,” he says, hesitantly.

“toji…” you repeat after him, mentally repeating his name over and over as to not forget it. toji can’t peel his eyes away from your lips as you mouth his name a couple times, the way they perfectly made an “o” shape for the letter in his name.

“uhm,” toji croaks, an unfamiliar feeling of nervousness in his chest, “what’s your name?”

when you tell him your name, toji sighs in relief. he’d always found it hard to have normal conversations, outside of those he had for work purposes, but this…this wasn’t so hard. he hadn’t wished to meet someone again in forever. but he wished now that he would see you again, even if it was passing on the street. toji hangs his head down, not knowing what to say anymore. these are difficult, odd, never-visited-before feelings for him.

maybe it was love at first sight for him, too. he doesn’t really know. not yet, at least.

“toji,” you repeat his name once more, and he lifts his head to look at you, “can i have your number, or something?” if you wanted to catch toji off guard, now, this is the way to do it.

toji’s mouth drops open slightly, “uh- sure,” he mutters, and he’s unable to stare at you anymore. you hand him an old receipt and a pen you kept in your bag, and he tries his hardest to remember the number of his apartment phone.

eventually, he writes it down, and you notice his penmanship definitely needs some work. nonetheless, you smile at toji, this time more genuine rather than awkward, and tell him you have to get going. toji only stares once more as you walk away, disappearing into the crowded sidewalk, his eyes linger on you for as long as possible.

toji was lonely. so, so pathetically lonely until you showed up.

“would you want to, like…see each other again?” you ask a drunk toji over the phone. his phone cord is stretched all the way over the counter in his apartment to the couch, where he lazily laid, buzzed, and talking to you.

silence is heard on the other side of the phone for a couple seconds.

“…sure,” toji replies, and you don’t know, but he feels like he could throw up.

however, with you making all the plans, a “date” is finally planned in a couple of weeks. neither one of you is too sure what to call it. but by normal, societal standards, yes, you and him were going to go on a date.

you have phone conversations every so often as the remaining days pass. usually, it’s you calling him. that’s only because he thinks your life is too busy for someone like him. he doesn’t even know why someone like you is even talking to him.

toji will keep his insecurities under wraps for now, though. only for now.

he’s still very curious about you, though, and he wonders what makes him so curious. he’s still wondering when he walks into a bar – the one you proclaimed as your favorite – to see you on your so-called date. toji’s heart flutters for the first time in his life when he sees you. you’re already sat in one of the barstools, sipping on a mixed drink – and you are jaw-droppingly beautiful. toji doesn’t talk to you when he slides into the stool next to you.

you crane your neck to look at whoever just sat in the reserved seat, and it’s toji, not looking any differently from how you saw him a couple weeks ago. you don’t mind. he’s still attractive. you think he might just be the type that’s “unapologetically themselves.” and he is, but not in a way that makes people attracted to him.

“toji!” his name falls off your tongue so perfectly yet again, and you wrap your arms around his neck. he doesn’t hug you back, he only freezes slightly at your touch. again, you don’t mind. it’s painfully obvious he doesn’t do things like this often. you feel lucky he decided to show up in the first place.

as time ticks away, you begin to find out more about toji. he does have a sense of humor, it only takes some chipping away at his hard exterior and a few drinks for him to laugh along with you. he lives alone, and he’s honest about his job – he kills people for a living. that fact doesn’t intimidate you, it only explains why he is the way he is. he tells you a few minute details about his family life, too, and how he grew up.

nothing that he tells you scares you. it only makes sense to you. the pieces of his personality add up with the information he gives you. and silently, you thank him for explaining more about himself.

he just doesn’t want to be lonely anymore.

toji takes you back to his place that night. even the frugal décor – or lack thereof – makes sense to you. it’s a little humorous how everything fits so perfectly with his personality.

“fuck- toji!” you scream, arms shaking as you hold yourself up as toji pounds you from behind. you know you only met him a few weeks ago, and it’s bad to fuck on the first date, but you feel zero remorse with the current situation. his big, rough hands hold your hips in place, lewd, wet noises fill the air when you aren’t moaning for the man behind you. toji doesn’t pay mind to how loud you’re being – he only likes the fact you’re losing yourself because of him.

toji props his leg up on the bed, giving a new angle, and slams his hips forward to meet yours again. you feel him in the deepest parts of you, and god, he’s so warm, he makes your whole body heat up in a way you’ve never felt before. drool rolls out of your mouth, creating a small damp circle below your head. your eyes flash behind you. you see toji in all his glory – he’s actually got some emotion on his face now.

you fall asleep in toji’s bed that night.

toji prays you won’t just be a one-night stand – no, he won’t let you be a one-night stand. in toji’s mind, you’re his now.

in your mind, you are too.

a few weeks after your date, you call up toji, he notices the nervous tone in your voice, but doesn’t mention anything about it.

“toji…” you say, his name sounding so perfect once again, “toji…i’m pregnant.”

shit.

“what?” he sounds furious, and it makes you cower down, even in the comfort of your own home. you don’t repeat yourself. you know he heard you. “are you sure?” he frantically questions, slapping a hand to his forehead as he begins to sweat.

“i’ve been sick ever since our date…and all the tests i took are positive.” you whimper, not handling the news any better than toji. you want to cry and beg toji not to leave. “i’m sorry, toji,” you whisper.

“it’s…okay.” toji replies. he knows the fault lies with both of you, and the heat of the moment, and the fact that he was just so attracted to you he didn’t have time to control himself.

“i don’t know what to do,” you tell toji, tears rolling down your cheeks as you clench the phone in your hand even tighter.

“me either,” toji admits, “but…i’ll help you.” those are the only words he can think of to calm you down.

it’s going to be a sticky situation, no matter what. but you took a chance on toji, you overlooked everything wrong with him. it was now his time to return the favor.

he got his wish, though. you wouldn’t be able to go anywhere anytime soon.

toji hauls the last of your boxes into his apartment, throwing them down on the floor harder than needed.

“you have a lot of shit, woman,” he groans, wiping his forehead. you only giggle in return from your spot on the couch. he didn’t let you pick up any of the heavy boxes.

you spend the rest of the day unpacking all your clothes, completely overtaking toji’s closet with items of your own. all your things add a splash of color into toji’s space, and god knows he needs it. toji’s surprised someone can have so much stuff.

“what the hell is this?” toji asks, pulling something out of a box.

“it’s a curling iron, toji,” you reply as you roll your eyes.

by the time night comes, you’re successfully moved in with the father of your baby. empty boxes are broken down and laid by the door. you’re curled up next to toji on the couch, his arm is wrapped around you. it’s been around 3 months since your first encounter with toji downtown.

ever since you told him you were pregnant, he’s acted differently. he dotes on you, he makes sure you’re comfortable, he buys you meals because he’s clueless as to what else to buy you. toji didn’t think he had it in him. you still aren’t officially together — yet — but toji shows he has a care for you in small ways.

you’re still getting used to one another, though. you and toji differ from each other tremendously, but you have to find a way to make these things work. you show toji love, and he prefers to keep his feelings inside, showing love through him allowing you to touch him and be around him. he hasn’t allowed anyone to be this way with him before. nothing is ever long term with him.

he no longer has a choice now.

“toji,” you speak, “are we dating? are we together?” you ask.

the inquiry causes toji to furrow his eyebrows.

“why?” toji answers you with another question. you shrug.

“I just want to know,” you reply. toji shrugs.

“do you want to get married?” toji petitions.

you push yourself off toji, sitting up. you look at him, eyebrows knitted together, “what?” you almost sound the same as toji did when you told him you were pregnant. and again, the situation repeats itself. toji’s statement doesn’t recur. he knows you heard him.

toji looks at you, a sly grin on his scarred lips.

“okay,” you finally agree, “i’ll marry you, toji.”

love grows. loving someone can change you, for the better or for worse. love matures someone, it will make someone into something they once weren’t, or something they aren’t meant to be. love is beautiful. intimate, soft feelings swell inside of you in a way you cannot express.

you love toji. he loves you, too, you think.

“toji, let go of me,” you playfully giggle as you try to pry the man’s hands off your waist, “i have to cook!”

toji has his arms wrapped around you from behind, not too hard, of course, to make sure there is no damage done to the human you’re growing inside of you. he has no intentions of letting you go, despite your pleas. toji rests his head on your shoulder, kissing the crook of your neck and breathing your scent in.

“i love you.” toji whispers, a barely audible peep.

you’re taken aback for a moment. you understood long ago those words would probably never come out of his mouth; due to the rushed situation you lived in with him. but he was there with you, saying those three words that mean more than anything in this world.

“i love you too, toji,” you reply, now staying still as opposed to your earlier motions of trying to get away.

the both of you just stand there, so close, enveloped in each other’s presence. you haven’t shared a moment like this with him yet.

you crane your neck to plant a kiss on toji’s cheek, no longer fighting to get out of his grasp. you only turn yourself around and wrap your arms around his neck, encapsulating your husband in a deep hug. a hug that means more than anything that can be put into words.

that was the only time he said those words to you.

you’ve been married to toji for five and a half months. he’s a changed man, despite him still carrying the same cold demeanor as the same day you met. he’s proven to be a fine partner for you. you understand him more now, with the way he continues to keep you at arm’s length while also letting you in to his mind, expressing deep emotions whenever he was under the influence. he makes a promise to you that he won’t do anything to harm you or the baby, including with his job. he no longer wants to be put in danger, because it would put you and his baby in danger.

lonely he was no more. he had you, it was all he needed. toji felt that way for months. he would stay content and happy — although he never showed it — with you.

toji often spent his time thinking about you. he’s never had anyone like you in his life.

sometimes, love cannot change you entirely. the newness of it all wears out over time, that’s inevitable. but, it’s the choices you make along the way that show change.

all the while being a changed man, toji is still self-absorbed. he cannot run away from that fact.

 you’re 8 months pregnant. the past few nights, you’ve been alone at toji’s apartment, too pregnant and tired to do anything about it.

just as you’re about to call him up, toji opens the door and stumbles through, drunk as ever. you frown.

“where the hell have you been, toji?” you raise your voice, slowly getting up from the couch.

“why the hell does it matter?” toji retorts, anger in his voice. he wasn’t expecting you to be on his ass as soon as he walked through the door.

“you’ve been gone for three days!” you yell at him, “three whole days. you said you wouldn’t take on any more dangerous jobs!”

toji makes a tch sound with his teeth, “i wasn’t on a job.” he admits.

you look at toji, confused, “where were you?”

toji runs his fingers through his already disheveled hair, “gambling.”

he says it so nonchalantly, like he didn’t just spend half a week away from his pregnant wife gambling. toji had only mentioned gambling as a bad past habit. you didn’t think he did it anymore, but as soon as he admits it, you wonder if he spent all that time gambling instead of working. it would only make sense.

“what…?” you say, voice dropping to nothing more than a whisper. toji only shakes his head and walks off into the bedroom. you stare at him until he disappears.

for weeks after, you and toji continue to argue. your conversations turn into screaming battles until one of you gives up. most nights, toji sleeps on the couch. you slowly begin to realize that everything might have been a mistake.

there’s a reason he’s never had someone like you.

your arguments falter for a while at the arrival of your baby boy. he’s beautiful, a literal bundle of joy. toji takes the role of a father very seriously at first. he makes sure he’s taken care of while you spend a few days bedridden because of the birth. you love to watch toji through your bedroom door, while he holds the baby swaddled up as he cooks for you.

a glimmer of hope remains in your heart for your marriage.

toji joins you in bed that night, the baby safely tucked away in a small bassinet on your side of the bed. you’re wrapped in toji’s arms again. the world is right. you fall asleep to the sounds of your husband’s snores. it’s a feeling you haven’t had in a long time.

selfishness is a cruel disease.

a couple months after having your baby, you’re not so lonely, spending most of your time taking care of him. you become too busy and burnt out from being a parent that you don’t notice toji’s late nights again. he always joins you in bed, at some point, but at the end of the day you’re sleeping too soundly to notice the time.

slowly, the rekindled love begins to fade for toji. he’s never there, except for when the sun is down. once you’re able to stay awake past 9p.m., the nasty monster of arguments comes back at full force.

“shut the hell up, woman! you’re pissing me off!” toji yells. the baby is wailing in your bedroom, but you are too preoccupied with your husband to do anything.

“are you kidding me? you reek of cheap perfume,” you retort, voice matching the loudness of toji’s, “who the fuck were you with?”

“none of your goddamned business!” toji shouts, taking a step closer to tower over you. he does nothing to intimidate you. you were never scared of him, so why would you be now?

“it is my business, i’m your wife!” you reply to his remarks.

toji scoffs. he makes a decision quickly, not thinking about any repercussions. he points a finger towards the door.

“get the hell out.”

your face falls from anger into an expression that can only be described as heartbreak. your husband of almost – almost ­­– a year is kicking you out. toji’s face remains stern and cold, not a pang of regret for doing this to you.

thousands of questions run through your mind, painful silence falls over the room, and you can hear your baby screaming once more. no time is given to ask toji anything. and for once, you’re scared. not exactly scared of toji, but of the fact you don’t know how things are going to end up without him.

your shoulders relax. you look toji in the eyes, unable to hide your heartbreak, but overall, you decide to keep an unbothered façade.

indifference doesn’t matter to toji. neither does sadness, or anger.

it only takes you a few minutes to pack a bag with enough things for you and the baby. you do your best to calm him down before leaving. you walk over to the door, looking toji in the eyes once more, and for the first time, toji can see the rage in them. the rage that he caused.

“i hate you.”

you slam the door on your way out, a bag on one shoulder and the baby on your other side. you think about what toji was doing, but alas, you don’t really care. it only took a few minutes and a couple hundred hurtful words for toji to be dead to you.

toji watches from his window as you walk down the sidewalk, disappearing into the crowd with his son. he thinks about where you’re going, who you’ll stay with, and how his life will end up now that you’re more than likely gone for good.

he’s a lonely man again. he’s leaving behind someone else, yet again.

but, he doesn’t really care.

[2hightocare]

LOVE WAGER! 02

Synopsis: The concept of love resurfaces as you both agree to center your psychology project on the premise that love is a choice. You propose an intriguing idea to Jungkook: he must exert every effort to make you fall in love with him within a month, to back up his belief.

Pairings: jungkook x fem!reader

Genre: college au. strangers to friends to lovers. angst/romantic comedy.

Warnings: mentions of divorce parents, neglectful parents, mentions of depression, banter, cussing, ex girlfriends, flashbacks, jungkook low key being super mean and discarding people’s feelings, jungkook hard-key depressed, implications of sex.

a/n: hai… this is so long overdue— exams month is coming and I had the biggest writers block fr but here’s my beloved babies. Song of the chapter— “love is embarrassing” by Olivia Rodrigo.

prev chapter! series masterlist!

Love.

Love is an intricate subject in its own right. Scientists elucidate it through the interplay of three cerebral chemicals: noradrenaline, dopamine, and phenylethylamine.

That's how Jungkook perceived love. He didn't subscribe to the notion of butterflies in the stomach or the fluttering heartbeat as justifications for love. To him, love was a scientific phenomenon, a complex emotion akin to sadness or jealousy-if he could evade such feelings, he would spare no effort.

But why did his stomach churn as if his organs were performing tiny somersaults whenever he gazed at you a tad too long? You were engrossed in the menu, pondering whether to get a burger or a slice of pizza.

Seated beautifully in your loose red Formula One shirt, Jungkook couldn't fathom how you managed to make that oversized shirt look so good.

Jungkook's eyes dropped to the ribbon in your hair, wondering why someone who was a full-on adult looked pretty, adorable even-with a red ribbon tied into a beautiful bow contrasting your skin and eyes. Your long eyelashes entranced him. He felt his stomach do something, a turn? Maybe his stomach was upset-he thought to himself.

Jungkook couldn't believe he found himself willingly sharing a table with you at the same dinner two years ago, he almost killed you at. He had moved to Emberhill U two years ago, ever since he moved out from his mom's house. Jungkook's life had gone to hell, which is exactly what his mind would tell him ever since his mom got a boyfriend. To make matters worse, he now had step-siblings.

He hated every bit of it. He wasn't jealous whatsoever.

It was the fact that his mom seemed to forget he even existed in the first place. Jungkook was hurt. He tried not to dwell or cry about it since he was a big boy-that's what he told himself now, pushing twenty-two, but still, part of his already broken heart shattered more.

How could your mom forget about her child? How could she not care about her only flesh and blood? He never told her that ever. Talking about his feelings with his mom was like talking to a brick wall that nothing could pass through. Plus, Jungkook wasn't good at communicating or talking about his feelings anyway. He found it embarrassing to lay yourself out there for someone to be able to discard you at any given moment.

Jungkook's dad wasn't any different as wellbeing too busy with work to even call him to ask his son if he was okay or how school is going. But the calls or text messages never came. Jungkook was used to it. It was his everyday. It was more shocking when he did call, but he wouldn't know what that would feel like since he never called ever since the divorce. Jungkook knew the divorce wasn't his fault whatsoever. His therapist—that his high school counselor made him go to—basically talked his ear off about how anything that happened wasn't his fault, but still, it felt like it was.

Ever since everything went down, his parents seemed to forget they had a child, who still needed them.

One advantage of his situation was the freedom to do as he pleased without his parents' interference. However, the downside was their lack of concern for his activities or just him in general. Jungkook was certain: if his parents didn't love him, who else in the world would? So, he didn't believe in love. When the two people meant to demonstrate unconditional love failed to do so, he doubted anyone else would. He would like to say that it didn't affect him and it's been years since everything, but deep down it still did.

Jungkook experiences a pang of guilt every time he looks at you. Perhaps it's the way he behaved when he first met you, the influence of the romantic comedy in your hands causing him to lash out at you.

Something about your ribbons makes him feel that you’re too innocent and naive for this world—part of him wants to shield you from its harsh realities, while another part wants to disillusion you about the cruelty of the world and the disparity between love in fairy tales and reality.

"Are you done daydreaming?" You say, interrupting his thoughts. Jungkook shakes his head, attempting to banish his thoughts before raising an eyebrow at your curious doe eyes. "I wasn't daydreaming," he states proudly, prompting a scoff from you, a grin tugging at Jungkook's lips.

"It was either daydreaming or checking me out since you were staring at me for a hot minute, but I decided otherwise since you have a girlfriend," you quip nonchalantly before calling the waiter to take your order.

"First of all, I don’t have a girlfriend, and second of all, what if I was checking you out?" Jungkook challenges. He didn’t know why he enjoyed getting on your nerves—any other person he would probably flip off and never give them the time of day, but instead, here he was with you doing the complete opposite.

"What happened to the girl from the dinner?" You question, your eyes finally meeting his brown ones. A glint of something passes over his eyes before disappearing as quickly as you saw it—so you thought maybe you had imagined it.

"Who?" Jungkook says, tilting his head to the side as he leans forward, his elbows propped on the table. "the one you mentioned to me two years ago? The one you discussed intimately," you mimic his voice. Jungkook's smile widens, amused by your jest.

"If you want to know so badly, we broke up—well, she broke up with me," Jungkook clicks his tongue, observing your expressions closely. He notices the creases of your forehead whenever you are thinking or the way you bite your lower lip to contain a smile that’s threatening to come out, each time Jungkook says something dumb.

"Oh, let me guess, she wanted love letters and sweet words whispered into her ear," you mock him, knowing he said that he didn’t need to do any of that to keep a girl. "You’re annoying, Ribbons," Jungkook shakes his head with a low soft chuckle.

You watch him pick up the menu and start scanning the items as you observe him. You notice how his jaw clenches momentarily before relaxing, his tongue poking on the inside of his cheek, making you wonder if you angered him—and if you did, maybe you should do it more often since he looked hot—

Record scratch.

Your mind was playing games with you the more you watched the raven-haired boy. The more you realized he was the epitome of the boy you imagined whenever you were reading a book, the dimples on his cheeks, the scar right above his cheekbone, and the mole underneath his bottom lip had you wanting to ask him for his whole life story.

He also looks like those cute love song playlists that had all your favorite songs in them, but you knew from the way he acts around you, it was definitely a hard no and maybe you were delusional after all. So you try hard to shove those ideas into the back of your brain as far as you could.

"I knew that you couldn’t keep a girlfriend," you shrug, prompting a gasp from him as he jokingly places a hand on his heart, as if you had just dealt him a mortal blow.

"Wow, YN doesn’t think I’m boyfriend material?" Jungkook gasps dramatically, shaking his head.

"You’re literally everything that's not boyfriend material," you throw your head back with a laugh, observing his widened eyes with amusement evident on his face. "Ouch," Jungkook scoffs dramatically.

"What makes you say I’m not boyfriend material?" he says, scanning the room for a waiter but finding none, before redirecting his attention to you.

"You don’t believe in love, that's one way to start," you point out, eliciting a hum of agreement from him. "What's that got to do with being a good boyfriend? I assure you that a good boyfriend isn’t necessarily head over heels in love," Jungkook says, as if imparting a valuable lesson, while your facial expression betrays you.

"The fuck? You literally hate everything related to love. Being a good boyfriend means doing cliche shit you hate doing so much, how could you possibly be boyfriend material?" you assert proudly, prompting an eye-roll from him.

"All that stuff is just superficial shit that everyone collectively agreed on. It’s just embarrassing how people put themselves go through all that just to make someone lik—“

"Love," you interject, earning yourself a glare from across the table.

"Like I was saying, I stand by the fact all those stupid romantic gestures are pointless. Society basically romanticized love and set up unrealistic expectations— everything just leads to heartbreak and disappointment," Jungkook continues, you watch how the hard expression on his face wavers to something more… sad, like he was talking from experience.

"Have you ever experienced love?" you inquire, not sure why since you guys weren’t even friends in the first place—the only reason you found yourself sitting with him willingly was because of psychology class.

"What?" Jungkook is caught off guard by the sudden question.

"Have you ever been in love?" you reiterate, observing his expression harden once more. "No, never, and I don’t plan to," Jungkook shrugs, going back to his usual cocky self in a blink of an eye, prompting yet another eye-roll from you, marking thirty-eighth.

You didn’t get the chance to reply since a waiter came to your table, apologizing for taking so long to get to us before taking our orders.

You and Jungkook decided on sharing a pizza, and you obviously ordered a coke, which got Jungkook joking about how he isn’t trying to make you choke again, which had the waiter shifting uncomfortably beside you both while Jungkook had an eating-shit grin on his face.

“That’s not what he meant!” You chuckled nervously, your face reddening, matching your shirt from how embarrassed you are.

“No, it’s okay, you don't have to explain,” the waiter said before excusing himself.

The moment the waiter was out of your line of vision, you turned your head to the boy who’s sucking in his lips, trying not to laugh.

“What the fuck was that?” You glared, your eyebrows scrunching. “What, you both just have a dirty mind,” Jungkook shrugged, the grin on his face making you shift in your chair.

Jungkook's aura was unlike anything you’d ever stumbled upon, and you hated it. It made you want to know more about him than you should, the way he carried himself and talked had you questioning why? He wasn’t so different from other boys you had met, besides the fact that he spoke his mind as if no one was around, not caring if he hurt your feelings or offended you. It was refreshing in some way, but it still made you want to pull your hair out.

“Alright… let’s change topics, Mr. Anti-Romantic,” you say, watching his smile widen.

“What?” You stared at him, trying to think what could possibly make him smile that much. You were sure your face would hurt if you possibly smiled that much.

“Nothing, I just find it extremely hot when you call me that, it turns me on,” Jungkook said, leaning forward.

Okay, that’s not exactly what you were imagining him saying. Your eyes widened momentarily, feeling your heartbeat rise. The smile not leaving his face had you feeling hot, as if the room temperature suddenly increased.

“Uh… so, project,” you blinked rapidly.

“Yeah, project,” Jungkook agreed, smile still on his face as he saw your cheeks flush with a reddish color.

“So, any ideas about what our project can be about?” You said, grabbing the hair tie around your wrist and using it to make a ponytail, taking the ribbons out before tying your hair.

Two small strands fell from your face, tempting Jungkook's fingers to reach out and tuck them behind your ear. He wanted to slap himself back to reality since he never in his life thought those thoughts, not even with Haneul, whom he dated for five months, setting a record. He still remembered the reason she gave him for breaking up. It was laughable.

“Jungkook, you don’t even look at me with love, and I know you said when we first met that it was only attraction, but I thought you would change over time the more we hung out,” Haneul whimpered, tears gathering around her eyes as Jungkook just stared at her, not knowing what to say. Because yes, he did tell her it was all attraction, and it’s still only attraction to this day for him.

“You don’t hold my hand or give me kisses, you don’t even give me flowers,” Haneul cried, her voice cracking with each word she said.

“I told you, I don’t do that stuff,” Jungkook said. He felt bad for her since he knew she deserved better, but he didn’t feel bad about not doing those things for her since he told her he wouldn’t and never would do them. And she agreed, so why was she crying about it now when she agreed to it five months ago?

“I know you did, but I thought you just… fuck, you haven’t even introduced me to your family,” a crack is heard from Jungkook's heart, but not for the girl in front of him crying her heart out, but for himself, because yeah, he had no family he could take a girl home to, since he had no home at all. He had a house, but it was as empty as he was.

“Haneul, I told you—“

“Yeah, that you will never do that! I get it, okay? I get it, but fuck, how can you not care? Do you not feel anything when it comes to me?” The girl wept more, which had Jungkook sighing.

“I like you, Haneul,” Jungkook replied. “I love you, Jungkook, can’t you tell…” she whispered, a choked sob leaving her lips as she looked up at the man who’s just standing in front of her like nothing.

“I’m sorry,” that's all Jungkook said… because what else could he say? It was either that or that he didn’t love her, but to not take it personally since he didn’t love anything?

So instead, he said the only thing he could muster without his voice cracking.

“Love,” Jungkook finally says, his statement catching you off guard, widening your eyes in surprise.

“Love? I thought you hated love,” you raise an eyebrow, perplexed by his sudden declaration.

“I do, but love is psychological. We can discuss how we, as humans, have the ability to choose whether we fall in love or not,” Jungkook articulates.

“That’s not how love works, Jungkook,” you retort, to which he responds with a disapproving nod. “It does, though,” Jungkook rebuts.

“It doesn’t. Love is not something we can choose and pick, it just happens,” you try to explain.

“You believe love just happens, but I disagree, respectfully,” Jungkook adds, causing you to tilt your head curiously, intrigued by his perspective. “I’ve held on for too long without being in love since I said I wouldn’t fall in love,” he concludes.

“That’s because you haven’t met anyone you actually want to try with… maybe you just haven’t met your soulmate,” you suggest, annoyance evident on Jungkook’s face the moment you mention the concept of soulmates.

“Soulmates don’t exist, ribbons,” Jungkook snickers.

“I beg to differ,” you cross your arms, adamant in your belief. “I don’t know what fantasy lovey-dovey world you live in, but soulmates are just made up,” Jungkook shrugs casually.

“Maybe you are right about the fact that you get to choose who you fall in love with since I know for a fact I would never fall in love with you,” you spitefully state.

Jungkook nods, feeling a bitter taste in his mouth that catches him off guard. Perhaps it was the fact that someone had just openly admitted they wouldn’t want to love him—reminding him of the kid he once was, desperately begging his parents to love him. But wasn’t this what he was trying to prove in the first place, that love was a choice? Then why did it hurt to hear you say those words out loud?

“Atta girl, finally got it huh,” Jungkook smirks, ignoring the pang of hurt in his chest. “Alright then, if we did do that for our project, let’s say we argued that love is a choice and it doesn’t happen. How do we prove that?” you question.

Silence fills the table as you both brainstorm ideas, trying to back up this argument.

“I got it,” you say, as if a light bulb just appeared on top of your head. Jungkook nods, encouraging you to continue.

“What if we spend a month with you doing absolutely everything to make me fall in love with you? And I mean do all that cliché, romantic shit I love that you hate so much. Since I know for a fact that I choose not to fall in love with you, we can discuss how, even if a person does everything right, you still get to choose who you love,” you explain carefully, ensuring he understands your proposal.

“It’s a good idea for the project; we could use ourselves to illustrate how we pick and choose who we love, like you said,” you try to convince him, giving him the benefit of the doubt after he convinced you of his beliefs. You knew you would never fall for him, even if he did everything you ever read in books and saw in movies.

“We can call it the Love Wager,” you finish, scanning his face as he contemplates the idea.

Jungkook’s mind races, unsure if he likes the idea or absolutely hates it. On one hand, it could earn him a good grade, given the strong rationale behind it, using yourselves as an experiment to support your argument. But on the other hand, the thought of spending a month doing everything he had vocally despised for the past five years gave him the heebie-jeebies.

“Alright then, the Love Wager operation starts,” Jungkook agrees instead, while you clap happily. “Oh my god yay, this might give me an A plus,” you celebrate, giggling as Jungkook raises an eyebrow.

“It’s a long story; I just hate psychology,” you say, to which he nods in response.

“Well, we have a month together, so start explaining why you hate it so much,” Jungkook says nonchalantly, and before you could reply, the waiter hurriedly returns to your table, apologizing for the wait, mentioning the kitchen’s struggle with the influx of orders. But you keep your eyes on the boy in front of you, who looks at the waiter, reassuring him it’s okay.

The smell of fresh, hot pizza fills your nostrils as you finally snap out of your trance, looking down at the pizza the waiter is sliding onto the table, cautioning you both that it is extremely hot. The waiter continues to place all the food you ordered on the table before leaving with a bow.

“I’m starving, oh my god,” Jungkook moans as he picks up a slice of pizza and takes a bite, ignoring the steam.

“How is that not burning your tongue, oh my…” you begin to say, but you’re interrupted as you take a bite of your own slice, immediately regretting it as you burn your tongue. “Ah, ah, ha,” you drop the pizza onto your plate, sticking your tongue out and fanning your mouth with your hand. A small laugh escapes from Jungkook as you shoot him a snarky glare.

“He literally just told you it was hot, ribbons,” Jungkook says, grabbing a napkin from the container and reaching over to wipe some sauce off your lips and face. The fanning from your hand halts as you stare at his focused face, feeling yourself heat up again, but this time it’s not your mouth—it’s your cheeks.

“Why did you just do that?” you ask before you can stop yourself, as he sits back down properly. “I’m starting my boyfriend material journey, you know, since the project?” Jungkook says casually, taking another bite of pizza, watching you in surprise as you shockingly observe him not being fazed by the burning food in his mouth, chewing happily.

“Oh… we’re starting right now?” you gesture to the table between you both, indicating ‘right now’. “Yeah, we only have one month, let’s make it worth it,” he says, diving back into his food.

God, this month was definitely going to be a roller coaster.

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[fangirl-dot-com]

The Inheritance

Guys, I keep messing up the timeline. So here we go. Christian, Geri, and Mitch find out about Lorenzo and your parents disowning you at your last F2 race. Max finds out about Lorenzo in this chapter (although not written in detail). Max then finds out about your parents in chapter 18 “All For You.” 

This is proof that I listen to my readers :D @dreamy-state-of-mind asked to see how reader bought her cars and this chapter was created! I can't do every ask for an idea but I try to listen to what y'all want!

Y'all are being fed...two chapters in a row (which means the next one won't be out for a little bit - so I apologize!)

Like always comments, questions, concerns, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated! Enjoy!

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

Your hands were in your pockets as you walked around the open room. You had somehow lost Max, Vito, AND Christian. It wasn’t like you meant to walk away, you just did on accident. How could someone know that the foreign car dealership was this big. Well, you would know, but that’s beside the point. 

It was quite cold in Germany. Thankfully, you had packed extra layers, something the men seemed to not know how to do. You were sure that Max would have worn his Red Bull polo if you didn’t mention to Kelly where you were going. Sure, he could dress on his own, but who would want that? 

Your eyes gazed at all of the cars on the floor. Most were the common stock models. Audis, Mercedes, and even Volkswagens littered the area; yet, the cars you were looking for were nowhere to be found. You kept heading in the same direction, hoping to at least find a familiar someone who looked like they worked there. 

Your ears picked up on some German words. Feet taking faster steps, you rounded a corner. Ah, there they were. 

Somehow you completely missed seeing that the Porsches would be in a different room. You gingerly stepped farther into the vast open-ceiling room. Your hand itched to touch them, but you knew better. 

Looking at the cars brought back some great memories of the first time your godfather took you here. Yes, he could have gotten any Italian brand of car that he wanted. Everything was at his fingertips. Yet, he brought 11-year-old you to Germany to get his imported cars. 

Your eyes landed on a familiar model. If you thought hard enough, you could hear the imprints of Lorenzo’s and your laughs as he took you to do donuts in abandoned parking lots. 

“A beauty isn’t she,” a voice scared you, causing you to fall on your ass. Your cheeks burned at the thought of being caught. Yet, when your eyes met familiar friendly ones, the redness left. 

“Hi Seb,” you greeted as you took his outstretched hand that he offered. He pulled you to your feet and into a hug. After you were done, you pulled away to turn back to the car. This time, you let your hand gently grace the older door. 

“Enzo had one,” you simply stated, leaving it at that. Most knew you didn’t like to talk about the man, since it brough on so many emotional memories. 

Sebastian took a couple steps and stood next to you. 

“Do you still have the keys to the garage?”

You grinned up at the German ex-driver. “Of course I have the keys. You know he left me the entire house.” 

He bumped your shoulder, head jerking to lead you away from the car. You followed without hesitation. 

“What do you plan to do with it?” 

You cocked your head in thought. “I’m going to keep it for now. I don’t want to sell it. It’s not like I need the money anyway.” 

He chuckled. “I forget that you’re like a multi-millionaire at 20.” 

You just shrugged. “Not my fault that I was basically his only family. I never asked for it.” Your eyes dropped to the shiny floor below. A hand was placed on your shoulder. 

“I know. I’m glad that you’re well off. Makes me feel better about not seeing you as much.” A sad smile graced his face as he looked at you. 

You tried your best to give him a genuine one in return. “I’m doing much better than I was.” 

“Have you showed Max your vast array yet?” 

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’. “I plan to soon, actually. I told him that I needed to go to Italy after this.” 

Seb raised his eyebrows, but didn’t say anything else. You went to talk, but familiar voices echoed in the big room. 

“Kid!” 

“Seb?” 

Your head whipped toward the sound. Ah, there they were. 

And they brought an assistant with them. 

Max and Christian looked at Seb in question as Vito brought the German into a big hug. You stood toward the side to watch the two friends reunite. The assistant took this opportunity to approach you. 

“Ah Miss L/n, so good to see you again!” 

“Again?” Max questioned, looking at you. 

The assistant turned to the Dutchman. “Yes. Miss L/n has been a patron at this establishment for years now.” He turned back to you. “I have the two models that you called ahead for. I will lead you to them.” 

The man turned on his heal and began to walk deeper into the room. 

Sebastian was now talking to Vito and Christian, which led to Max walking by you. 

“I didn’t know you’d been here before.” 

You looked up at him with a sly smile. “My godfather bought a lot of his cars from here and would take me with him. Some of the cars at the front are a part of his collection that I donated when he passed. He left me so many, I didn’t know what to do with them.” 

Max stopped in his tracks as you kept walking. Once he got over his shock, he sped up to catch you. 

“So many?”

You placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Maxie, how much money do you think I have?” you asked, an innocent look on your face.

“Couple thousand?”

You shook your head. 

An eyebrow rose. “A couple hundred thousand?” 

Another shake as a mouth dropped. 

Max looked around before whispering, “Millions?” 

“Bingo. We’re going to tour my house when we go to Italy.” 

You kept on walking, leaving the even more confused Dutchman. 

“House?” 

A few steps more and you had caught up with the group of four men. Christian whistled at the sight of what lie before him. 

“Thank you Mr. Klein,” you shook the assistants hand as you looked at the two dark green cars in front of you. “Did the payment go through well?” 

The man nodded. “Yes it did. Mr. and Mrs. Fischer send their best regards and also thank you for the donation.” 

The four men (minus your manager) gawk at you. Yet, you were too busy beaming. 

“I’m so glad. Tell them that I will reach out the next time I’m here for longer. I want to see their children again, I miss them.” 

With a couple more goodbyes, weird stares, and going over plans to ship your Porsches to Monaco and England safely – you were on your way to Italy. 

Thankfully Sebastian wanted to join, saying something about how he hadn’t seen the house in forever. Which brought on more questioning looks from Max. 

However, Christian had to sadly say goodbye as he had a connecting flight to go somewhere else for business. You promised you’d send some pictures when you could. 

A chauffer had met you at the airport, names written in fancy calligraphy on a starch white piece of paper. 

The man gave you two cheek kisses as you greeted him. 

“Guido! Come stai amico mio?” (how are you my friend?) 

Max couldn’t wipe the look off his face as you began to talk to the older gentleman in perfect Italian. Vito only patted his shoulder. 

“You’ll get used to it. She’s definitely someone to unravel. You’ll get there.” 

The four of you then followed the man to the Rolls Royce that was waiting in the parking area. Suitcases were loaded in, and the three of you were on your way to your house. 

Or, more like mansion/estate/castle that Max found out as the car pulled closer. He turned to you. 

“Kid?” 

“Inheritance Max. Inheritance.” 

Your door was opened once the car was parked. Multiple people came out of the house, wanting to greet you. 

“La mia famiglia! Mi siete manvati tutti!” (My family! I’ve missed all of you!”) 

A couple of the staff took your bags as you walked through the giant doorway. Once you were through, you turned around and opened your arms. 

“Max, welcome to Casa di Lorenzo Alessandrino.” 

Max’s head was in a state of looking upwards as he walked in. He would have held his mouth open, but the interior seemed to demand respect as power and poise dripped from its walls. Now it was turn for Max’s hands to itch, wanting to touch everything.

Once everything was settled, you gave Max a tour as Vito and Seb went to go get some drinks. Your fingers twirled a special key ring as you led Max to your garage. 

You turned to him and gave a smile. “You ready?” 

Let’s just say, Max was not ready to see so many cars. Max let his jaw drop. 

The garage was deep and long, probably housing close to 40-ish cars. Your eyes glimmered as you looked at the older cars that you missed dearly. 

“You can go look you know,” you told Max as you made your way down the little staircase to the floor. Your heels clicked and echoed with each step. Max was quick to be on your tail. The Dutchman made his way quickly to each car, stopping for only a second before getting distracted by the next. 

You hummed as you looked at the empty spot among the Ferrari’s on the back wall. You pointed to it when Max came up beside you again. 

“The only car Lorenzo never had in his collection was the F40. I need to talk to Charles or Carlos about seeing how I can get one ethically. I want to complete the collection, but not pay far more than what it’s worth.” 

Max nodded, soaking in your words. He was about to say something, but a flash of orange caught his attention. His eyes sparkled as he looked at the spaceship looking car. 

“What kind of car is that?” 

You smirked as you gazed on your most prize possession. 

You walked closer and clicked the keys, making the car roar to life only for a second. (You don’t want to give you and Max monoxide poisoning.) 

Your hand ran over the orangey hues that covered the car.

“This is the Apollo Project Evolution.” 

Max looked down at the hyper car. 

“What that a V12?” 

“Yep. A Ferrari V12 to be exact. Three million dollars, one in ten made, over 700 horsepower, and completely street legal. I’d take you for a ride, but I would rather keep this between me and whoever knows about it.” 

You turned on your heel to start walking toward the door where you walked in. “I bought it because it reminded me of the spaceship from Guardians of the Galaxy.” 

Max snickered as he could imagine you at 14-years-old, watching that movie and falling in love with the space craft. Then, he imagined you last year, trying to find out how you could get your hands on it. 

He took one last glance at the big room, before following you back into the house. He softly shut the big door behind him. 

“Does Arthur know about this place?” he asked as he caught up to you, not wanting to get lost. 

You softly smiled at him. “Yes. I brought him here after Lorenzo passed away in 2020. I just didn’t want to be alone. Vito was here as well.” 

Max returned your sad smile. You and Vito had told him about the place on your way here. Tears were shed, hugs were given out, but you’d get through it. 

But then he suddenly pouted at the thought of you not bringing him here earlier. 

You tutted. “Don’t worry, Charles hasn’t been here if that’s what you’re pouting about.” 

That brought an instant grin to his face. You rolled your eyes at his childishness. Soon, you joined Vito and Sebastian in the kitchen. Aperol Spritzes lined the kitchen counter. Your hand reached one, before Vito was thrusting an different one into your hands. You pouted when you realized that yours was probably nonalcoholic.  

Sebastian snorted. “Let the kid have one.” 

“Vito, what do you think they do for podiums? Make sure mine isn’t actual champagne?” 

Vito rolled his eyes and handed you one from the kitchen counter. You quickly smiles and took a sip of the bubbly drink. 

“So kid, did you show Max the garage?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his own drink. 

You nodded as you placed your cup down. “Yep!” 

“And the track?” 

“You have a track!?” 

y/n.89 has posted

y/n.89 glad to be back to my home away from home. Italia, quanto mi sei mancato. conserverai sempre ricordi preziosi e non posso ringraziarti abbastanza per amarmi da bambino. quando tornerò sarò sul podio, ne sono sicuro

(translation : italy how i've missed you. you will always hold precious memories and i can't thank you enough for loving me as a child. when i return, i'll be on the podium - i'm sure of it)

liked by sebastianvettel, vito_official, y/nlover, and 58,204 others

y/n's_fav who was going to tell me that our girl knows Italian?

y/n_updates she speaks it fluently! her godfather was Italian and taught her when she was growing up! y/n_on_top all I'm hearing is that her, Carlos, and Charles can now talk shit about Max if needed

charles_leclerc quindi Max non riesce a capire? (so max can't understand?)

y/n.89 no, quindi è ora di svelare i segreti dell'infanzia, Charlie (no, so spill the childhood secrets Charlie) carlossainz55 abbiamo molto da dire (we have a lot to tell) maxverstappen1 I CAN READ MY OWN NAME - I KNOW YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT ME y/n.89 senti qualcosa? (do you hear something?)

vito_official così felice di essere a casa. possiamo restare ancora un po'? Guido e Luigi dicono che gli manchiamo troppo (so glad to be home. can we stay a bit longer? Guido and Luigi say they miss us too much)

y/n.89 mi mancheranno così tanto. torneremo presto! (i'll miss them so much. we'll be back soon!)

sebastianvettel glad to have been able to go with you! I'll see you soon kinder!

y/n_in_italy NOT HER HOUSEKEEPERS'S NAMES BEING GUIDO AND LUIGI

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[dandylovesturtles]

havin' all these Splinter and Leo thoughts. augh.

this is partly the fault of @/turtleblogatlast's post about Leo just wanting to make Splinter proud.

post-movie

...

Seven days post-invasion, and Leo is feeling (relatively) pretty good. Sure, he's still on a truly ridiculous amount of painkillers and he can't walk two steps without collapsing, but he's able to stay awake and talk to his family and considering where he thought he would be right about now, well... that's everything.

So yeah, he's feeling pretty good. He just finished his lunch of soup and a protein shake, warm and a little drowsy while he listens to April talk about some of the more ridiculous conspiracy theories that have started spreading on the surface. Donnie's tinkering with one of his smaller inventions while he listens, Mikey is nestled in Raph's lap, and everything is calm and cozy in their makeshift medbay.

And then his dad walks in and says, "I would like to talk to Blue, please. Alone."

And suddenly Leo doesn't feel so good anymore.

"Aha, wait," he says quickly, reaching out and grabbing April's sleeve just before she rises from her chair. "Whatever it is, you can say it in front of everyone, right?"

Splinter shakes his head. "This is a conversation I think it is best we have in private." He makes a shooing motion at the others, and April pulls her sleeve from Leo's fingers with a helpless shrug.

"See ya in a few, Leo," she says, then walks out. The others look from Splinter, to him, then back to Splinter, and one by one they each get up and shuffle out, too, with their own hasty farewells.

Traitors, every single one of them.

The door closes, and Leo finds himself alone with Splinter for the first time since coming back from Staten Island. Or at least, the first time he can remember. He was pretty out of it the first few days; most of what he remembers is muddled and confused. And embarrassing. He cried a lot more than he'd care to admit.

Splinter hops into chair April was sitting in and pulls it closer; he has to stay standing to be anywhere near eye level with Leo. He wishes he could read Splinter's face, but his expression is giving nothing away. Sometimes it's easy to forget he spent a not-insignificant part of his life as an actor, until something like this happens.

Leo decides to speak before he can. Head him off at the pass, or something.

"If you're going to yell at me, just remember my eardrums are already damaged."

Which is true - turns out being 1, too close to an exploding alien spaceship and 2, getting punched in the head repeatedly by an alien very mad about said exploding spaceship is bad for the ears, even when you don't have outer ears like a human. So super loud noises are a bad idea right now, and thus Leo cannot be yelled at. Flawless logic; maybe he can keep using that every time he gets in trouble.

For the first time, his dad's expression shifts, just a little. A deeper frown, a heavier set to his brow.

"You think I came in here to yell at you?"

Leo feels his stomach twist. Does he have to spell it out? "I mean, didn't you? That's usually what kicking everyone else out is leading up to."

"I see..." Splinter is still unreadable, looking a little too intensely at Leo. "And what do you think I want to yell at you about?"

He really does want it spelled out. Leo suddenly realizes that there won't be any yelling because this is his punishment: to admit everything he's done, to speak all his sins for his dad's ears. Lay it all out in his own tongue and show that he understands, really and truly, the depths of his screwups.

Oh, he understands. He understands it so well he may choke on the words.

"...For losing the key," he says finally, and it stings on its way out. He hasn't talked about it since it happened; every time he tries to say anything to the others, they shush him, saying, "It's okay, Leo, everything is fine now."

It's not okay, and everything isn't fine, and this is when he finally hears about it.

Finally, an identifiable emotion on Splinter's face: horror, dawning clear and present. And Leo doesn't understand that, because doesn't Splinter know he lost the key? He was there for that conversation, wasn't he? Leo's memories of that day have grown a little hazy between the drugs and the recovery and the fact that thinking about it for too long makes him go fuzzy around the edges, but he's pretty sure he remembers Splinter being there. He flicked popcorn at Leo's head. He probably should have done more than that; maybe then Leo wouldn't have made such a mess of things.

Splinter doesn't say anything right away, just stares at Leo with that horrified expression, and the silence is so scary that Leo starts filling it without even thinking.

"I was kidding about the whole... not yelling at me thing. I know I deserve it. I mean, I was fooling around, doing what you and Raph told me not to do, and I doomed the whole world doing it! Some leader I am, right? And I know I'm not exactly your favorite son to begin with, and that's fair, because I keep letting you down, but this is definitely my worst screwup to date, and you yell at me when I don't close the fridge door all the way or throw balls around the TV room so why wouldn't you yell at me for destroying the planet, right...?"

His voice peters out at the end, too hoarse to continue. That's the most words he's strung together over the last week, and for the first time he's glad for his injuries, for stopping him from spewing any more embarrassing word vomit just to fill the air.

Splinter is still looking at him with that same horrified expression. If anything, he just looks more upset, which means that Leo at least accomplished his goal.

Leo's waiting for the yelling to start, but when Splinter finally says something, it's, "You think I have a favorite son?" throwing Leo for a loop once again.

"Uh, yeah?" he says, because that's all there is to say. He's always assumed it's Donnie - the "funny one", the one who fixes Splinter's TV when it's broken, and the only one of them likely to get a real job and move out of the house. But even if it's not Donnie, it's gotta be Mikey, or Raph. His brothers are amazing and talented, and all Leo has ever been good at is winning the Lair Games.

Splinter closes his eyes a moment, and when he opens them his face moves back to a more neutral expression. "I do not have a favorite son," he says, firm and serious. "I love all of you just the same."

Leo thinks that can't be true - if it is, he feels bad for the other guys. But he doesn't think he can just say that, so he says, "Yeah, Dad, of course," instead.

Splinter looks a bit crestfallen. "You don't believe me?" he asks, and shoot. Leo has no idea how to respond to that.

"...I know you love us," is what he says. And that's true, it is! He just doesn't know how his dad could like him as much as the others.

Splinter's expression turns sad. He reaches out and lays a furry hand on Leo's arm, careful of his bandages and all the many wires he's hooked to. "You think you doomed the world?"

"I lost the key," Leo repeats. "It was all my fault. It's why I had to..." His voice fumbles over the words, and he revises. "It's why it had to be me."

Splinter's mouth twists. He climbs out of the chair and onto the mattress, careful not to jostle Leo as he settles down on his knees.

"Blue," he says softly, gently palming Leo's face this time. "None of this was your fault."

Leo's stomach twists again. He thought he was being punished, but somehow this is worse.

"Yes it was," he argues. "I lost the key," for the third time, "and... and I ignored the order to retreat, and got Raph captured, and and and, I ignored the guys and tried to force our way into Metro Tower, and it was me who told Donnie to try to fly that stupid ship, and because of me Mikey had to-"

"Leonardo," says Splinter, sharp, and Leo goes silent. His dad looks devastated, but he keeps his hand on Leo's cheek, brushing with his thumb, and for the first time Leo realizes his skin is wet. Splinter sighs heavily, his entire frame seeming to droop with the weight of it.

"Leonardo," he repeats, softly this time. "You did not doom the world."

"But-"

A furry finger on his lip quiets him.

"You did not doom the world," Splinter repeats, once again firm and serious. "You did not take the theft of the key seriously, because you did not know what it was, the threat it represented. But it was the Foot Clan who chose to use that key, fully knowing what evil it would unleash. That is not on you, my son. The responsibility falls squarely on them."

Leo doesn't know how much he can believe that - isn't it their job to stop the Foot Clan? But Splinter looks so sure as he says it, and his hand is still tender on Leo's cheek, and for the first time a little bit of doubt seeps into Leo's heart, telling him that maybe, just maybe, this wasn't all his fault after all.

But still...

"Even if that's true," he says, with heavy emphasis on the if, "everything I did after that-"

"You are young," his dad interrupts. "You are inexperienced. You are learning. And the amount of growth you showed us all, even over just that one day... You shined as brightly as I know you can."

Again, Leo's stomach does a twist - but it's a happier one, this time. Splinter's voice is sincere, leaving no room for doubt, and Leo can almost, almost believe that this is true, that his dad has believed in him from the very beginning. Has seen something in him, whatever it was that led him to make Leo the leader, that lead to him putting trust in Leo.

He just wishes he felt like he'd done more to earn it.

"You did not doom the world," says his dad again. "You saved it. But, it never should have been like that to begin with. You should never have been facing down such a fierce foe so young, especially as alone as you boys were. And you-"

His voice becomes choked up, and Leo's heart lurches.

"You... sacrificed yourself to save us all. I... I am your father, and I... could not protect you."

He's crying. His dad is crying, and Leo feels panic, reaching out to try and stop this.

"Dad-"

"No." Splinter holds up a hand, giving his head a hard shake. "All I ever wanted for you boys was to save you from the sacrifices asked of our family. And yet I could not - and for that, you paid dearly. You almost paid the ultimate price, and we almost lost you forever."

A thick knot forms in Leo's throat, and he can barely get out, "I'm okay, Dad, I'm here."

"Yes you are." Splinter squeezes his shoulder desperately. "You are here. You are safe. But that doesn't change that it should not have been you to begin with."

Leo watches in dawning horror as Splinter steps back, then kneels over on the mattress.

"This is why I came in here, Blue. Not to yell at you. To apologize."

He presses his forehead against the sheets.

"I am so sorry that I could not protect you."

He's crying. So is Leo, openly now. He reaches out for his dad, fumbling for his shoulders and urging him to straighten up.

"No, Dad... This wasn't your fault!"

"But-"

"No! It was just... it was just a really, really shitty thing that happened, okay? It was the Foot Clan, and the Krang, but it wasn't- it wasn't..."

Splinter raises his face and looks at him, and suddenly the words he's been trying to get Leo to believe for the last several minutes barrel into him and Leo crumbles.

"...I didn't have to do it," he says.

"No." Splinter gets up, coming closer. "You had nothing to atone for. You did it because you are brave, and you are kind, but this was never yours to fix."

Leo sucks in one harsh breath, then another, and then he's sobbing harder than he ever has in his life, and his dad hugs him tight, his arms warm and his fur soft where Leo buries his face in his shoulder.

All the feelings he's pushed aside - the ones he didn't think he had the right to feel, because he'd had to do it, he had to make up for his mistakes - bubble over, gripping him with grief and despair but also relief, that he's still here to cry and be hugged by his dad.

"I was so scared."

"I know."

"I thought I wouldn't see you guys again."

"I know. We thought we had lost you, too."

"I just... I didn't know what else to do... I couldn't let him... I couldn't..."

"Shhh, it's alright. It's over now. We're all safe."

Leo hugs his dad back, as tightly as he can with his injuries, and sobs and sobs until he's all out of tears. And all along, his dad tells him he is safe, he is good, and he is loved.

Later, Leo feels even better than he had before.

[midnightcinderella]

People who would suffer at NRC

Each dorm has at least one of these students and god help them. This is very self-indulgent and each trait applies to me. If you relate, then rip to the both of us.

No proof-reading, we rawdog this shit. Word count: ~1300 Notes: no gendered pronouns for reader. mentions of ADHD, depression, and anxiety. mentions of illness. no romantic relationships

Heartslabyul

People with ADHD. Rip to us fr.

You'd forget at least a handful of rules a day, but it's really not your fault. Riddle better get off your case istg.

The ones who are more devoted to remaining productive make big colorful signs all over the damn place.

In their own rooms would be stuff like a box that says "keys and wallet go here" or a sign by the door with a checklist of what they need before they go, like homework or textbooks.

There are signs in common areas, too. They'll say stuff like curfew times or reminders of jobs that need to be done around the dorm.

There's always backlash if Riddle tries to take them down for being an eyesore because not only do they help ADHD students remember what needs to be done but students without ADHD, too. No sane person is gonna be thinking about feeding flamingos 24/7.

Savanaclaw

People with asthma. Place is dusty as shit. And hot. And humid at times.

I'm surprised the beastman students haven't taken any measure to seal off the inside of the dorm to prevent and from getting in. Guess everyone doesn't mind inhaling dust straight into their lungs.

Not to mention regular exercise is a dorm-wide tradition. Shoutout to my fellow mile walkers <3

If you have asthma and a dander/dust allergy, I'd just drop out tbh.

People who easily overheat/sweat. Double rip to us.

Get ready to go back and forth with your dormmates about smelling bad after sweating. It's a common occurrence. Someone sasses you, you sass back, and you're friends again 3 minutes later.

Everyone will think you're dying when you're dripping sweat after some stretches outside. No, you're not tired, you're just hot.

Octavinelle

People who are bad at math/bad with money. Listen.

The dorm isn't full of people who are as business minded as Azul, but there are students that offer accounting help for a fee. Negotiate that fee for the love of god.

Thankfully, you won't be scammed out of house and home because:

(1) it's generally frowned upon to scam people within Octavinelle; you don't hurt one of your own. It's about loyalty.

(2) someone is likely to take pity on you and will throw you a bone, telling you about a huge sale or where to find good job opportunities.

People who are gullible. Once again, double rip.

And once again, thank the lucky stars that loyalty is such a big thing here so you might be tricked into doing someone's job for them like mopping the Lounge, but nothing that would hurt you too badly.

If a study partner tries to feed you false information for shiggles, that'll get shut down real quick by another student. If your grades go down, then the whole dorm goes with you.

Good thing that doesn't happen often, and Azul offers his study guides for a highly discounted price to his own.

Scarabia

People who don't do well with sudden changes in temperature. Man, listen.

Hellishly hot during the day and even more hellishly cold at night. Dante would be thrilled.

God forbid you have any athletic activities close to sunset because you'll have to shower off that sweat quick before you freeze to death.

If anyone has a problem with the sound of the hairdryer after sundown, they're just gonna have to deal with it or risk catching your inevitable cold.

Speaking of, if sudden changes in temperature make you sick, double rip. I know your pain.

Kalim may not be able to come see you in person, but if he finds out you're sick, he'll send meds and some warm food. If that food was made by Jamil, then you owe him one.

You don't wanna owe him one.

If you need to leave your room after sundown, you're going to do it wrapped up with a blanket over your head. If someone mistakes you for a ghoul, that's their own problem.

Pomefiore

People with depression. Listen. Someone without depression could find it hard to keep such a strict regimen day in and day out; do not expect too much out of us.

If you think that means you're getting out of it, though, you'd be wrong.

Group accountability is a thing here. If you need help sticking to your routine, you're getting it. You can't refuse.

You're all going to be beautiful together, goddammit.

If that chronic fatigue be hittin ya, you might get a pass for a few steps of your routine. But if a particularly caring dormmate decides you have to do the full routine and straight up does it for you, lol.

Depending on how you view that sort of help, it might be really nice. Or maybe a little humiliating.

The dorm kitchen is only going to have healthy ready-made snacks. So if it's a day where you can't cook or go all the way to the cafeteria, that is what you're working with. Either that or you crawl your way over the the Shop for a candy bar.

Ignihyde

People who struggle with technology. Yes there are young people who aren't great with technology. We exist. Mind your business.

No matter how many classes you take teaching you how to use MagExcel, it never sticks for long. Even if you pass the exams, all your knowledge leaves to go buy milk by the time the week is over.

You're gonna need to interrupt people's gaming sessions to ask for help. It may annoy them, but you're doing it anyway because you refuse the reinvent the wheel 12 times.

People who prefer paper over screens. Call me old fashioned but staring at screens all day Hurts My Eyes.

You'd get physical copies of your textbooks if you could, but those free pdfs your classmates pass around are too tempting to pass up. They're free, for god's sake.

You also might be limited to board games on game nights. They're not bad, but there's not a whole lot you can do with them. You're a wiz at Cards Against Reality tho.

Every so often Ignihyde has a dorm-wide game night where everyone sits around in the common room with their headphones in, playing their own games. Together.

Though the board game players are in the next room. Oddly enough, they're the rowdiest of the bunch, and it sounds like they have the most fun by the way they're yelling and cheering.

You have seen some nerd fights start over a game of Ichi.

Diasomnia

People who have anxiety. One, Lilia is a menace. Two, your housewarden is the Malleus Draconia. Meep.

Whether it's Lilia or Malleus you run into, it feels like your heart will explode at any time.

Not to mention it's so dark in and outside of the building for no good reason. What's a fella gotta do to get some fucking sunlight in here? You're sick of worrying about what could be behind every corner.

You once wondered if Malleus needed a UV/heat lamp, but knew better than to ask. That doesn't mean you're not curious, though.

People who dislike loud sounds. I don't think I have to explain this one.

At first you thought that staying near Silver meant that you'd be staying away from Sebek, but that wasn't the case and you were at a loss as to what to do.

Then you tried going in the other direction whenever you saw Malleus, but all that did was send Sebek after you personally, asking very loudly why you did not want to be around Lord Malleus.

At one point, you got sick of his shit and muzzled him via magic. Then Malleus showed up and you were all oh shit. But then all he did was chuckle about how you were getting along so well. You took that to mean he wouldn't ever stop you from muzzling Sebek.

You were right.

[unemployedhockeyfan]

Not All Breakups Are Equal

Summary: Lando and Eloise, two best friends. They'd been there for one another for as long as they could remember. But, just a few short weeks change everything.

Warnings: angst I guess

Notes: Hi! This is a first for me, so please share your feedback!! Let me know if you want a part 2!!

[1.4k]

This was not how it was supposed to end. 

We were supposed to be friends until our dying breaths. If I let my true imagination wander, it wouldn’t have ended just like that either. If I was honest with myself early on, he would have been the man I saw as I walked down the aisle. 

But here we are in his way-too expensive Monaco apartment. 

“Eloise, I don’t understand why you are so pressed about this,” Lando shouted in my direction. 

The issue was nearly nonexistent three weeks ago. Lando, my best friend, had been seeing a new girl. I had tried my best to try and get to know her — it is what I always did when a new woman entered his life. 

The key is that I tried. She didn’t want any part in being my friend. Only a few days after I had met the new fling, I found out what she had to say about me. 

None of it was good. Honestly, most of it was vile. She’s so fake. She’s just jealous because he will never look at her like that. He just pities her. I’ll make him forget her name. 

As my mind continues to be clouded by what my best friend’s new girlfriend thinks of me, I’m thrust back into reality. Lando and I are shouting at each other — something we never used to do. Really, this may be the first time it’s ever happened. 

Max, a mutual friend to both of us, is sitting awkwardly on the couch. He clearly wishes he was anywhere but this apartment. I can only imagine what Lando’s neighbors are thinking at this moment. 

“How could I not care, Lando?” I yelled back.

“She was joking,” Lando responded. 

This wasn’t a joke. A joke is between friends. A joke isn't supposed to leave you crying on the bathroom floor. 

A joke isn’t supposed to end a friendship. 

“She was not joking, Lando. She was serious. If you cannot support me, if you cannot tell her that it’s not OK to talk about me like that, I’m not sure we can be friends anymore.” 

I can’t believe those words just came out of my mouth, and by the look on Lando’s face, I don’t think he can either. 

“Eloise,” Lando said before he paused to take in my emotions. 

I felt the tears rolling down my face. I hadn’t even realized the tears had started to come. But how could they not? A 15-year friendship was only a few words away from ending. As I had made the proclamation, I glanced to my side and saw Max’s mouth agape. 

The three of us — the three musketeers — had been side-by-side-by-side for as long as I could remember. My twin brother had grown up karting with them, and while Lando and Max were friends with Rory, there was something about the three of us that clicked more. 

I watched from the sides as they grew up and chased their dreams and I watched as Lando made his Formula 1 debut. 

Along the way, I had apparently caught feelings for the British driver, too, but I’d never openly admit that. 

Max suspected it, though. 

“You can’t seriously be thinking about ending our friendship over this?”

“I don’t know, Lando. I think we’ll always be friends, but I can’t be an active participant in your life if she is too. I need to protect my own mental health.” 

Lando’s eyes were beginning to be rimmed with tears. 

I cannot believe I’m the person who’s making him cry. When he and Louisa went through their breakup and I saw how sad he was, I vowed that I would never be the reason for his tears. 

But, here we are and I’m making him cry. 

The longer I stand here in his kitchen, though, the more I start to think about it not actually being my fault. He’s the one who invited his new girlfriend into his life. She’s the one who said negative things about me. I’m just protecting myself. 

“No, Eloise, you can’t just walk out the door.”

My mind was so cluttered that I didn’t even realize I had taken steps toward his front door — that I had one hand on the doorknob. Here I was, though, a simple hand movement and step away from walking out of Lando Norris’ life. 

“I’m sorry.”

I twisted the handle, opened the door and walked out. 

I was three steps down the hallway when I heard the door slam closed. I paused, part of me hoping I’d hear his voice call out. All I wanted was for him to follow me out into the hallway and fight for me to stay. 

As I stood three feet away from his front door, it was silent. He hadn’t followed me, Lando was still in his apartment — likely gazing down at his kitchen counter with Max equally shocked sitting on the couch. 

It was silent. 

I glanced back at his apartment, willing the front door to open. It never did, so I turned back around and walked toward the elevator. 

This was it. Our friendship was over. No, our friendship was paused. I wouldn’t let it be over, at least not in my head. 

No matter how much it hurt, no matter how much sleep I lost over it, I was going to always tell myself that Lando was going to come back. I didn’t care if it was him coming back to me as a single man or if he entered my life again with the same girlfriend as long as she agreed to be kind to me. 

As I stepped out of the elevator and into the lobby of Lando’s apartment building, I braced myself for the evening chill. Before tucking my arms into my body, I wiped away the tears that seemed neverending at this point. 

Only seconds after stepping outside, I heard my name being called. 

“Eloise! Eloise! Stop, please, Eloise!” 

It wasn’t Lando, though. It was Max being the friend he always is. 

“Where are you going?”

It was a valid question, I don’t live in Monaco. Well, not officially. 

My job allows me to work remotely, so I truthfully live wherever Lando happens to be that week. That’s over now. 

“Um, I’m not really sure. I may just show up at the airport and see where I can get a flight. I just can’t be here.” 

The look on Max’s face is one I hope to never see again. I knew at that moment that Max had always known. He knew about the crush I started harboring when we were only 13 years old. 

“Eloise, I’m not going to stop you from leaving. I cannot imagine how much you’re hurting right now, but please know he does love you.”

“No, Max, don’t say that! Please, my heart can’t entertain that idea — not anymore.” 

“But he does, Eloise. He just doesn’t reali…”

“Max, stop,” I shouted to interrupt him. “Please. I need you to not say what you’re thinking. If he loved me, even if he didn’t realize it, he would never let me feel like this. Even if he wanted to still see her, he’d tell her to be kinder to me.” 

Max just stood there. He didn’t know what to say. To be honest, I didn’t really know either, but he knew enough to at least pull me into a hug. 

That’s when I lost it. The tears started flowing and it seemed like nothing would stop them. Max laid a kiss on the top of my head, he’s always been another brother to me. He gave me an extra squeeze before placing his hands on my shoulders and pushing me away slightly. 

“Just let me know where that plane ticket gets you, OK?”

“Always.” 

With that, I turned away from one of my two best friends, with the other several floors away, and began to walk. I didn’t even have my suitcase. I guess I’d have to text Max about that one because I couldn’t turn back now. 

It was just after midnight by the time I arrived at the airport — I had thankfully found an empty taxi despite the late hour. 

As I approached the counter in the airport, the employee gave me a quick glance before her eyes returned to the screen in front of her.

“May I help you?”

“I’d like to buy a ticket.”

“To where?” 

I froze, I still hadn’t thought this far. I could go home, but that would be the first place Lando looked. For as much as I wanted him to chase after me, I still didn’t want to be easy to find. 

On a whim, one place came to mind. 

“New York. New York City.” 

[flemingsfreckles]

Puppy Love

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Preview: you come home to a surprise from your girlfriend

Warnings: none

WC: 1.3k

A/N: here’s a very short blurb a wrote based off the middle photo of Jessie with the puppy. I’m in the process of working on 3 other fics that are multi part (better boyfriend is one, the other two are stuff that isn’t out yet) those just take a while so I’m taking time to write some small short stuff as well because it prevents my writers block from showing up.

“Oh no come back here with that” you hear your girlfriend yell at someone or something as you walk in the door. You set your keys down and begin to take off your shoes when you feel a warm soft body against the back of your leg. Turning around you see a small brown puppy standing looking up at you, one of your shirts hanging from its mouth.

Only a second later your girlfriend comes flying around the corner into the entryway, nearly slipping with the combination of her speed, her socks, and the tile flooring. She catches herself against the wall and looks up at you with huge eyes.

Jessie looks frazzled in every way. Her hair is sticking out in every direction, her cheeks are bright red as if she’d just been to training, she’s wearing only shorts and a sports bra. You can see a couple red nail scratches across her arms and she’s breathing heavily.

“Jessie.” It doesn’t take long for you to make the assumption that your girlfriend had brought home a puppy.

“Hi.” She gives you a tight lipped smile, just looking up at you before the puppy takes off running again, through your legs and off toward the kitchen.

“Oh my god” you hear Jessie mutter and she turns and chases after it. You’re not even sure if you should follow, still processing the scene that you came home to.

You take a few steps in the direction that Jessie ran off in and see her coming back toward you, a wiggling puppy in her arms. Your shirt now in her hand. She holds the puppy out to you, holding it under its arms like a small baby.

“Hold her.” You don’t have much of a choice so you put your arms out and take the puppy from her. The puppy is small and a little ball of fur in your arms, for a split second you forget that you should be questioning your girlfriend about what is going on. Jessie throws on the shirt the puppy had stolen and holds her arms out to take her back. You hand her back and you two just stand looking at each other, the puppy whining to be put down.

“Jessie, why is there a puppy in our house?”

“She needed a home.” She gives you a quick glance before her attention is redirected to the dog.

“So what? You thought ours was a good option?” You feel your voice raise slightly, you really weren’t mad, just more confused at the impulsive decision Jessie made, and a little frustrated that she hadn’t checked in with you before she brought home a huge responsibility.

“Maybe?” She looks at you with hopeful eyes. “Come on babe we’ve thought about it a couple of times.”

She wasn’t wrong the two of you had thought about adopting a dog on a couple occasions now that you lived together, you both wanted one but you never followed through in the process of actually picking out a dog. Something always got in the way.

“The dog came from Niamh’s neighbor, their dog had a bunch of puppies. The rest got adopted but no one wanted her because of her ear.” She holds the dog's ear up for you to see, but it was missing a large portion of it.

“It’s not her fault she was born like that. How could no one want her?” It looks like your girlfriend is on the verge of tears looking at the puppy’s face. “I know I should have asked babe but I didn’t. I’m sorry for that. She’s already house broken and can walk on a leash. Can we keep her please?”

You didn’t have a good reason to say no. You both wanted a dog, you were ready for the responsibility and you couldn’t help but admit how cute it was to see Jessie playing with her. She was poking its nose with her own, the dog trying to lick her face every time she leaned it.

“Sure Jess, we can keep her.”

“Yay! Did you hear that, you can stay.” She is back looking at the dog in her arms, talking to it as if she could understand. The dog just wiggles around, excited by the attention from Jessie not her actual words.

“I haven’t named her yet, I wanted to wait for you.” She sets down the dog and leans toward you, lips pursed waiting for a kiss. You lean in to place your lips to hers, giving her a quick kiss. It’s short and sweet, a nice welcome home.

“When did you have time to pick her up?” You point at the dog who has run over to the doorway and is rolling around on the rug scratching her back.

“After training, I went with Niamh, then we went to the store and bought all the things for her.” She points over to the pile of toys, a bag of food, two bowls, and a crate. You just nod. “She might want to go outside. She goes by the door when she needs to go. She’s so smart. Do you want to join us on a short walk?”

“Sure babe.” Jessie hurries over to where the puppy was rolling, grabbing the leash and harness that had been hung neatly next to both of your keys.

It’s warm out, the sun is just starting to set as you start your first walk with just the three of you as a small family. You walk for a couple minutes before the unnamed puppy starts sitting down, every couple of steps, bored of walking she sits and chomps at the grass.

“Come here.” Jessie says in a high pitched tone, the same tone she used earlier to talk to the puppy. She picks up the dog once again.

“Babe, what are you doing?”

“Her little legs are probably tired. She’s had a busy day.” You couldn’t help but smile, looking at your girlfriend grinning ear to ear as she held the puppy in her arms. She looks so content with the ball of fur. She carries her for the rest of the walk, letting the puppy lightly bounce in her arms as she walks alongside you.

You spent the rest of the afternoon playing with the puppy who you both agreed to name Maple both after her color and because you shot down Jessie’s original idea of naming her Moose but you refused to name the dog after another animal. Early into the night Maple found her own way into the large crate Jessie had bought and lined it with a bed and blankets.

“Look, she's sleeping.” You point out to Jessie as you both were standing in the kitchen waiting on a bag of popcorn to be ready. Jessie looks over to where Maple was, sound asleep in the pile of blankets.

“She’s so cute.”

“I cannot believe you brought home a dog.” You truly were shocked when you walked in the door earlier that day, the last thing you were expecting was a puppy.

“I know, I was a little worried you’d be mad.”

“How could I be when I had her cute face and your cute face both giving me puppy eyes?” You gently grab Jessie’s chin and place a kiss on her lips.

“Plus it’s good practice for when we have kids.” Jessie says when you pull away from her. The thought of having kids with her sends a flutter to your stomach. You knew it wouldn’t be soon, but in the future it was definitely something you both had talked about and wanted.

“Yeah it is but you better not bring home any kids without telling me first.”

[peoniesnro]

In Another Universe

#8. The Burning Pit of Fire

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

Park Jimin × Reader

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

Warnings- Language/SMUT- Making out/ Dirty talks/ Very brief Oral (F.Receiving)/ Brief breast play/ Protected sex/ Missionary/ Doggy/ Word 'slut' and 'whore'/ Angst / INFIDELITY

Word count- 16k+

a/n- I apologize for the delay in updating—life has been a bit overwhelming and hectic lately. I’m doing my best to bring you new chapters as quickly as I can. Thank you so much for your patience, and I hope you’ll enjoy this one!❤️

Taglist?

Chapter Index

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“Are you fucking kidding me bitch? What do you take me for? A fucking joke?” Key puts her coffee cup on the dirty table in your booth. Harshly. And loudly. Three students next to your booth look at you with judgmental looks on their faces. You hush your best friend with furrowed brows.

“Yah! Don’t cause drama here.” You put your own coffee cup down the table as well.

“Drama? Fucking drama?” She scoffs. Looking away from you for a second before looking back at you. Bewildered. “For fuck’s sake…. You just told me the most fucking insane story I’ve ever heard, and you want me to act calm. No, fucking scratch that, do you expect me to fucking believe you?” Key nearly laughs. Picks up her coffee to down the remaining in one go. Places the cup back again before pointing a finger at you. “Well, guess what my friend? If you want to come up with stupid lies and if you have things to hide, come prepared.” Almost gets to her feet but you prevent that with a loud ‘fuck you’.  

You’re beyond frustrated at this point. Just at the moment you figured out a way to have the most possible way of living a normal life, it all started to come crashing down. Just like that. You’re still heartbroken after your last conversation with Park Jimin. It still pangs to think that he asked you not to ‘ruin his life’.

Fucking bastard.

He came onto you like a horny teenager first. Acted like he was a dumb pervert who thinks with his dick while forcing your mouth on his dick. And asked you to leave quietly? Like you’re a match struck in the darkness. Brightened his world for a moment and then tossed away when you’re no longer needed. You’ve never felt this used before.

To add a little more frustration and pressure to your current problems, there came your best friend. Maybe it’s not just your best friend but the whole ordeal. The fact that she didn’t recognize you for a moment this morning adds a whole lot of weight to your current burden. Oh, how scared you were. To stand in front of her near your lecture room. Crowding the entrance while she just gaped at you. Tilting her head to the side and thinking hard about who you were. It was only for a fractured second, but in that second, blood drained out of you. Your heart sank down. Cold beads of sweat started to form in your skin, and you felt an unexplainable fear. And then she had recognized you when you mumbled her name with a cracked voice. Making you breathe out a sigh of relief. Not for long though. That relief didn’t have much lasting impact. It was stolen from you when your best friend had started to freak out. Fair though.

What’s the possible explanation of forgetting someone who’s been a part of your life for so long?

See, you could’ve easily manipulated her to believe that it’s her fault. But you’ve already messed up so much. You didn’t need any more guilt. Besides she had firsthand witnessed how you started calling your family like a lunatic. And explaining that you were their daughter. Younger sister. There was no explanation except the truth.

So, here you are glaring at your best friend who obviously wants nothing but to leave. Here you are daring her to leave if she can, without words. Here you both are participating in a staring contest while the other students gaping at you.

“Fuck.” Key gives in first.

“Fuck indeed. So, what? You’re going to leave like that?” You ask.

“What do you expect me to do then? Believe you?” She counters back. You’re running out of patience. Well, of course you know what you’re saying is unbelievable. Even Jimin who experienced this mess with you from the very first moment didn’t believe you. Not that easily. Now though, you don’t have the energy to fight for your arguments. You just want her to believe you blindly.  

“Yes. I want you to believe me Key, because what would I get from lying to you?” You stop glaring at her. Shoulders slumping down as you sigh heavily. Eyes closed as you pray for the strength to keep going. Key interrupts you before you can continue.

“How? How am I supposed to believe some bullshit about two worlds and what? You’ve been travelling there like every other day? And that happens every time you sleep? Do you even hear yourself?” She rants. You groan.

“Listen Key…. I know… gosh of fucking course I know. I know I sound ridiculous.”

“You sound fucking insane.”

“I know, I know all right? But that’s the fucking truth. I don’t know how to prove it to you but that’s what has been happening to me. You know, when you asked me why I go MIA, why I keep missing my lectures and due dates, why I look so tired and shit, it’s all because of this.” You try to keep calm. It won’t take you anywhere to act like she is your enemy. Because she isn’t. Key shakes her head slowly. Still in very much disbelief. Maybe offended even.

“So, let me guess… that fucking stupid letter…. Your fucking fatigue thing? They were all lies, weren’t they?” She leans forward. You were wrong to think she looks offended. No, she looks hurt. Betrayed. Well, fuck!

“Yes,” You admit. Feeling extremely guilty. Nibble on your bottom lip for a moment. “But I had no other option, I didn’t know what else to tell─” You start explaining yourself when she stops you with another scoff.

“What else to tell? You should have told me the truth. What, am I that untrustworthy, that you couldn’t share your prob─” It’s your turn to stop Key.

“That’s not that shit Key. It’s not about a fucking trust… it’s because I knew you wouldn’t believe me. Look at you. You don’t believe me, do you? I didn’t tell you because I fucking knew this is how you’re going to act.” That really got Key closing her mouth shut. And for the first time since you start this conversation, she starts to look guilty as much as you do.

“Okay, yeah, I don’t believe you but… like how can I? How am I gonna believe such a stupid story?” She resonates. You sigh again as you just stare at her. Thinking of words or reasons to make her believe you. Only to find you have none. Words aren’t believable. Words aren’t enough. But maybe solid proof will be enough. Just like the time you took the same approach with Park Jimin.

“Well, think about all the times I acted odd and maybe try to connect the dots. And I have something I can show you. Let’s go to my place.” You stand up. Ignore Key’s stuttering. Just start walking out of this café with one goal in mind. After all, you thank Park Jimin for buying you a phone. And for the party where you just snapped hundreds of pictures without knowing how handy they’ll be in the future.

……………………………………

A sudden jolt wakes you up. A soft groan escapes your lips as you close your eyes again, then open them slowly. Letting your brain register that you were just sleeping, not dead. Reminding you that you’re not in your apartment. Which is no longer a shock nor scary. You fully expect it to happen this way. You’re used to it. That, however, doesn’t stop you from snapping your head to Jimin’s side. Finding him peacefully still asleep next to you. On his tummy, cheek flushed against the soft pillows. One hand draping over your stomach.

Oh, great! Just fucking great

On another day, where he hadn’t hurt your feelings that way, this might have been a nice morning. A morning where your heart would try to leap away from your ribcage. Where you would get that uncontrollable urge to smooch his lips which are pouty as he presses his cheek into the pillow. Today, however, what you feel is a new wave of bitterness. Paired with a heavy heart. And a lingering anger. You feel humiliated. To think that he just discarded you like that. You want to get away from him as fast as possible. You want to act like he doesn’t exist. Act like he doesn’t matter the same way that you don’t matter to him. Like you’re not hurt at least a bit. Your ego is what speaking when you take another minute before deciding you need to put him in his place. You shrug his hand off your stomach with inconceivable speed. Your movements are so harsh that it makes Jimin awaken with a startle. A whimper escapes his mouth. His droopy eyes closing back instantly to avoid the ache of looking at light suddenly.

Great!!! Now you feel like a narcissistic bitch. A fucking asshole.

Jimin looks like an innocent cat. So out of this cruel world. Certainly not deserving such harsh treatments. No. Nope. He does. He fucking does. He asked you to leave quietly after using you to satisfy his horny desires. He treated you like a worthless slut. He deserves a slap across his face.

“I absolutely don’t fucking need your hands over me Park.” You hiss before getting out of bed at blistering speed.

“What?” Jimin raises his head. Asks groggily. His hair sticking out funnily. Looking at you with his eyes still half closed. You don’t intend on answering his questions. You’re not obligated to do so after all. Hence, your silent departure from the room. Not even minding the next ‘what?’ he throws at your retreating back.

See, you promised yourself that you’re going to show your middle finger to him when you leave.

…………………………………..

On your normal days, you use his kitchen like it’s your own. Floundering around and making breakfast. For both of you. You don’t do that on this day, however. Jimin loudly reminded you that you’re indeed no one. That this is not your place. How stupid of you to get so comfortable around him. Fuck, you need to slap yourself. Yes, Jimin deserves a slap, but you deserve two. For being a stupid and desperate bitch.

You just sit there on the kitchen island. Both of your legs are bouncing up and down fast. Your thumb is trapped between your front teeth. For a fact, you know this is going to get awkward. It’s always uncomfortable to face someone after a fight. Even though it wasn’t really a fight you had with Jimin, it’s still very uncomfortable. You don’t know how to act. Feel helpless. Gosh you’re stuck with him here despite how much you want to escape. He’s the one who fed you while you were here. Bought you a phone. Made you stay safe. And everything else. Come to think of it, you’re in fucking debt. And that worsens the situation. God, how frustrating to be dependent on him. True, it was your deal for him to help you find a job. It’s no longer an option. First, you can’t ask Jimin to help. Second, even if you find a job there would be no way you’ll earn something enough to pay him. You should never have allowed him to buy you stuff. Should’ve starved to death.

The sound of approaching footsteps is what snaps you out of your reverie. You have to bite back the annoying groan that is about to leave your mouth. What did you do in your past life that you’ve to put up with this? Why don’t you have an escape?

You stay very still. Not wanting to look at him. But your attempts come in vain when he walks to the refrigerator, which is right in front of you. He’s in sweats and white T like always. Hair still wild and he makes it worse by running his fingers through it. Looks fine in a godly way. How annoying.

“Did you eat anything?” Jimin’s sudden voice make you whip your head away. He isn’t looking at you. Is asking that while rummaging through his refrigerator, where he stupidly keeps instant ramen. See, so fucking annoying.

“Why the fuck would you care?” You ask back. Burning holes in his back. Jimin straightens up at your question. Turns around. Is burning holes back into your face. Takes a moment before sighing while tilting his head slightly.

“Lil─” He starts to say. And you snap.

“Don’t fucking Lil me. Just don’t. We’re not that close for you to give me nicknames, are we? You were fucking loud and clear when you told me I’m no one but a stand-in for your girlfriend. And I really understand that you don’t want me to ruin your life. So, that’s what I’m doing right now. I’ll make sure I don’t ruin your life for the remaining week- no it’s not just a week- it’s just three days─” You take a deep breath before continuing. “─ for the remaining three days.” The last words leave your mouth as a hiss. Due to how hard you’re grinding your teeth. “So, let me be that way, Park.” The anger you feel is enough to crush this entire apartment down to dust. Still, even with that you don’t feel any satisfaction after you throw those words at him. If anything, you can feel that lump in your throat once again. Well, that’s your cue to leave this scene. Jimin doesn’t let you, however.

“That’s not what I meant, Lil. You were the one who said you wanted to tell my fucking friends that you’re not Liya.” Jimin steps away from the fridge. Leaves the door open and walks forward to stand across from you. On the other side of the counter. His expression is stern.  “I only asked you not to do just that.” Jimin grits his teeth too. You scoff. Very bitterly.

“Of fucking course, it’s my fault now─”

“I never fucking said it’s your fault. Stop making this shit bigger than it really is.”

“Then what are you saying, Jimin? What exactly are you saying? I fucking know I’m equally at fault for what happened between us and I’m fully aware it was for one day. So, listen, Mr. Park Jimin, I didn’t expect anything more either. I. FUCKING. DID. NOT. Do you hear me?” You scream this time. Get to your feet, feeling your eyes begin to sting. Your vision blurs.

“Then why did you want to tell them? What’s your fucking purpose?” Jimin rounds the kitchen island as he asks that. Standing tall before you. Well, you don’t know the answer to that. Don’t think that everything has a reason. Hell, you might’ve not told his friends the truth in the end. It was just a suggestion.

“I don’t know, Jimin. Maybe because I’m a person. Maybe because I’m not a fleshlight you can use or a fucking robot at your service. Maybe because I, seek self-worth like any other person. Good job Park. Good fucking job, making me feel like a useless, pathetic slut.” You throw your head up to keep the tears inside your eyes. “I thought we were fucking friends.” Oh, how much you hate the way your voice cracks. And the way Jimin’s face contorts into something painful from the anger. Feel like he is pitying you. That’s not what you want.

“Gosh, fuck. Listen I- I... uh...” Jimin rubs his face frustratingly. Stuttering over his words. You have no idea what he is trying to say. Not that you care either. You want to escape. He makes you want to cry. Your heart is aching. At least you expected him to apologize. But all he does is make it worse. You want to stop him by doing so. Don’t want to leave while hating his guts despite everything. So, you’re glad when your phone suddenly vibrates, interrupting you. You and Jimin both snap your head towards where your phone is. On the countertop. Screen has lit up and the caller ID reads, ‘Kookie’.

You catch the way Jimin furrows deeply for a brief moment before you pick up the phone from the counter. Answering the call and pressing the cold surface of the phone into your cheek. Clear your throat.

“H-Hello?” You will yourself not to sound annoyed or sad.

“Noona? Gosh, why couldn’t I reach you? I tried so many times.” Jungkook bellows from the other side. Well, he probably couldn’t because you were not in the coverage area. You don’t wish to tell him now though. Instead, you just ask him why. Throwing another swift glance at Jimin. He is still furrowing his brows, clearly disliking the interruption.

“Ah, I was just worried you know? Or maybe just dying in curiosity like fuck, Noona, I feel like I dreamt, and I wanted to make sure it was real…” Poor Jungkook is obviously very oblivious to the mood you’re in. Not that you can blame him. Under very different context you would’ve laughed at his small joke. Make fun of it. Not now. Not when you’re hurt. When you still feel the burning gaze of Park Jimin on your face. But you force a chuckle.

“Very real, unfortunately.” Mumble. Jungkook chuckles on the other side and you know his one is very genuine.

“Yeah? Then if I can remember correctly, you promised me an explanation… I mean... if you still want to. It’s not like you’re obligated, but I’m still fucking dying of curiosity.” You can hear some ruffling on his side. It’s impressive how he’s not losing his shit right now. If you were him, you might’ve had a stroke after hearing all that and then seeing someone just vanish in front of your bare eyes. Jungkook really is a one of a kind. It seems. And when you said you’d explain, you meant it. The thing is though, you’re not in a mood to do so. Maybe you should ask him to do it another day, but before you can, he speaks again.

“We can meet if you’re free. Where are you? I can pick you up.”  Jungkook sounds hesitant when he says that. He’s sweet. But this is not the time. Right? This is not the time unless you’re desperately looking for an escape. Of fucking course─ here’s the escape you’ve been looking for. Jungkook is your guardian angel. And then maybe he could help you find enough money to pay Park Jimin back. You’d do that even if it meant selling your kidney.

You look at Jimin once again. Take a moment. Force yourself to smile. “Of course, Kookie, I can. I mean I’m always free─ not like I have anything to do. Like I don’t really matter at this moment, ─” Keep your eyes on Jimin. Unwavering.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m free, that’s what I mean.  I’m at Jimin’s─ I’ll send you the location, pick me up.” You state while you can actually hear Jungkook’s excitement. He says something about being there within ten minutes, even though you haven’t sent him the address yet. He says some more but his voice is annoyingly drowned out when Jimin suddenly grabs your wrist. Nearly yanking the phone away from your ear. You don’t let him. With a glare at Jimin you mutter a ‘bye’ to Jungkook. Hang up the call. Eyes never stop glaring at the man in front of you.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” Jimin yells the moment the call has been disconnected. His fingers still tightly wrapped around your delicate wrist. You wrench free your hand. Harshly as you could.

“What the fuck does it have to do with you?” You nearly turn around to leave when you’re trapped in his grip again.

“Fucking answer me, Lil… Where the hell are you going?” Jimin shouts in your ear. His grip is so harsh that it pains you. You grit your teeth as you try to free your hand again. Twisting. You’re not able to do so this time. If anything, he tightens the grip even more.

“None… of- your con─ cerns… Park Jimin. Let me fucking go….” You manage through your clenched teeth.

“Not till you fucking tell me.”

“Don’t act like you don’t know─ you fucking saw who called me. Get your damn hands away from me, Park. Fucking let me go.” You seethe. Clenching your teeth so hard that they ache. “I don’t want you to touch me.” You sound desperate. Trying one more time to free your hand. This time, it works. Not because you’re the Wonder Woman, but because he lets go. Jimin’s entire expression morphs into a pain from anger this time. As though you hurt him. Well, you didn’t. It’s not like he cares for real anyway. Just using you again because he isn’t on good terms with Jungkook. Not your problem anymore. Jimin doesn’t say anything else. Nor do you wait to hear if he does. You just spin around and leave. Without another single word.

……………………………………..

It’s really exhausting and frustrating to recite the same story repeatedly. After Key wanted to hear the same thing from A to Z for ten fucking times, now you’re ready to faint after explaining it for the eleventh. This time, however, the listener is much more bearable. Out of only three people who know the truth, Jungkook is the easiest to convince. Or he was already convinced. All you had to do was tell him how it happened. And he, unlike some people, just accepted what you said. Key was the most difficult. Even after using the same approach, you did with Park Jimin, she was adamant you’d lost your mind. Hell, she even promised you that she’ll find those people in your photographs. And a phone of the same brand. Well, you wished her good luck.

“Holy fuck!” Jungkook exclaims once you stop talking. Telling him everything – or the things that can be said- up to where you and him both met that woman.

“Right?” You agree with him.

“I feel so special right now.” Jungkook mutters dreamily. “To know such thing and fuck, Noona, I know an alien. You’re a fucking alien.” He gasps as he looks at you with wide eyes. As if he’s inspecting to see something different from humans. Then shakes his head in disbelief. Reaches a hand to your head. Starts touching your head with furrowed brows.

“Okay, what the fuck are you doing?” You ask while trying to dodge his touches. Jungkook snorts. Amused for a reason you can’t fathom. “What?”  So, you question again.

“Nothing. Just checking if you have antennas.” He states causally, making you whine and swat his hand away.

“Too bad dude. I don’t have antennas, nor do I have any special powers. Just a human girl like you. And yah! don’t call me Noona anymore, I’m younger than you.” You remind him. Jungkook just clicks his tongue. Dismissing your demand.

“I like Noona better. Let’s make that your name.” You are about to protest when he disrupts you with another question. “So, beside Jimin, am I the only person who knows?” He inquires. Picking up the cup of coffee, now probably ice cold. Takes a sip. Contorts his expression into pure disgust. Starts scanning the small café where you’re in. Presumably searching for a barista to ask for a second cup. You shake your head making sure he notices that.

“No, my best friend knows. I told you about her, Key. But then you’re the only one who knows beside Jimin in this world.”

Jungkook nods in understanding but doesn’t get to ask anything else when the searched barista reaches your table. “You need another one too Noona?” He asks instead, to which you shake your head again. Despite you having an escape. Despite Jungkook being an exceptionally good companion. Despite this little café feels like a cozy dwarf house. You’re still not in the mood to enjoy anything. It doesn’t matter how much you’ve talked until now. Or if you’ve smiled and snorted here and there. You’re still very heartbroken. Can still taste the bitterness of your own words on your tongue. Can feel the piercing pang in your heart.

Why the hell do you feel this hurt? Why do you feel so lonely? You’re not supposed to. Why are you hoping Jimin will barge in here like the time he did that day. The day you sat under the Gingko tree. Just wishful thinking. How ridiculous? Now why he would do that? He wants you to leave quietly after all. Besides, it’s been hours since you’re here with Jungkook. Jimin isn’t coming. Fuck him.

“So, did she believe you?” Jungkook’s voice brings you back to the earth. Saves you from piercing pain in your chest.

“No, not really.” You give a simple answer. He nods again. He nods a lot. A beat of silence falls while Jungkook waits for his coffee. It arrives fast. Making the boy next to you giddy. He takes the cup from both of his hands. Bowing to the cute barista repeatedly. See, if you weren’t so drained, you might’ve snorted at that. You watch as he takes a sip from the hot coffee. Hums in delight. Using the cup to warm his hands. And then his attention is back on you. Not asking anything right away but just curiously staring. His keen eyes piercing through you. Like he’s trying to read you. You’re just about to ask him ‘what now?’, when he beats you to it.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook puts the cup back on the table. Momentarily drawing your gaze before you look back at his face.

“Huh?”

“Are you okay Noona? You don’t look like you’re okay. Are you sick? Is that because we smoked that day outside? It was quite cold…” Jungkook ponders. You chuckles. Yet again a forced one. You wonder if you’re really that obvious or Jungkook is just that observant. Decide it’s the latter in the end.

“Of course, I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?” You chuckles again. Looking away through the window. Avoiding those keen eyes.

“Maybe because you’re sad that you’re leaving?” Jungkook can be really annoying with his questions sometimes. You turn to him again, waving your hand in the air.

“Hah, that’s the most hilarious thing you’ve ever said. I was literally dying to find a way to stop─”

“You and Jimin weren’t just acting right? You two… uh… I mean you kissed like… I don’t know, like you were starving. So, I’m guessing there’s more?” Jungkook interrupts your ranting so rudely. But it’s not the interruption that got you wide eyes and open mouth. It’s the words. Fucking hell, he’s so observant. You gulp harshly, getting ready to deny his accusations, when he starts again. “Sorry for saying it like this but you... uh... did you cheat on real Liya? And fuck, are you in love─”

“Fucking NO… of fucking course no. Are you crazy? What makes you even think I’m in love with that asshole?” You really couldn’t bear to listen to him complete that sentence. Unbelievable.

“What about the first part? You said no to being in love with him, but what about the cheating part?” Jungkook asks softly. Making you shut your mouth tight. Oh, how hard this is. You knew it would be embarrassing and humiliating to be confronted about such matters. But this? This is exceeding your expectations in a scary way. You can’t even look Jungkook in the eye. Guit and shame burning you up. Hell, you can’t even bring yourself to defend. Even your eyes are beginning to sting. You want to run away. Well, who else is to blame but your stupid self. You dug this pit of shame for yourself. There’s nothing you can say or do but to downcast your eyes. Avoid his pitch-black ones.

This is fine. He can judge you. All he wants. It’s not like you’ll be here to endure those judgments for long anyway. You brace yourself to hear him saying how much of a lying and shameless bitch you are. Only for your eyes to go wide again. This time in surprise though. Jungkook wraps his hand around your shoulders. Bringing you pressed to his side in one swift moment. Gives you a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s okay Noona, I’m not judging. I just asked. I’m pretty sure I’ve done far worst shit than that─” Jungkook quietly laughs. Body rumbling. “─ gosh it’s so fucked up. Once I fucked this woman knowing very well, she was married with kids. I couldn’t care less. Was so fucking horny.” That got you snapping your eyes to him. Not judging. No. Just curios. “Fucked up, aren’t I? And I fucked her couple times after as well.” He asks you with a second squeeze. You’re curious like a cat now.

“Then what? Are you like um… are you still….”

“No, No. I stopped that shit when J found out. She found out pretty soon to be honest. And ripped my ear off.” His free hand reaches to his ear to rub it. As he could still feel the pain. A ghost of a smile dances on your lips. “It’s not like I’m into married woman or something you know. It just happened and then I stopped. You don’t have to feel so shitty Noona. People always fucking up and if anything, Jimin should feel double fucked.” He justifies the situation. You know what he’s trying to do. But then it’s not exactly the same. Is it? You want to tell him that. Your mouth feel dry, however. How can you tell him when you don’t know for yourself?

You nod your head anyway. Let Jungkook know you understand. So, he gives you some more reassuring words. Justifies the situation to the best he can. Changes the topic subtly to the ways you’re going to make this work. Obviously, you still have no idea what you’re supposed to do after five days. Either way, you feel glad that he changes the subject. Glad that you at least have him here to talk to. Feel less lonely. Your little chit chat flows through. Making you regain your composure. Act normal.

Funny, how you never paid this much attention to the muscular ‘bunny’ beside you. Who’s now talking animatedly about a sci-fi he watched about parallel universes. Applying the same theories to your situation. Funny, how he is so nice to you, even when he thought you were Liya. Funny, how you only now realize that this man will be the one who you will miss the most after Jimin. Funny, how he is the only one who will miss you for who you are. Since he only ever knew you. Never knew Liya. There are few other people who probably haven’t met real Liya yet either. But Jungkook is the only one who knows you.  And to know that you feel at ease. Feel touched. See, you’re a human just like you told Jimin. Maybe deep down you wish you found something in this world. Connections. Relationships. Friends. People to miss.

 Of course you’ll miss everyone. Even Seoyeon. Even Hoseok. Then, oh, you will definitely miss Jungkook. You will. So, you let him know. Interrupting his interesting explanation.

“I’ll miss you.”

Jungkook’s head snaps toward you. His words fade as he takes you in. “Yeah?” Mumbles. After silently staring at you for more than a second. You stare back and then nod. “Me too─” He puts his hands on yours. “─I’ll miss you too.” Voice turns so soft. That cheesy, sheepish grin adorning his lips. Makes you smile.

“How come? You don’t know me that much.” Ask knowing very well it’s just the same as for you.

“Doesn’t matter, I kinda liked you the first day I saw you and when I knew you were taken─” Jungkook laughs heartily. “I was like damn man maybe you are into taken woman.” You both laugh at that. Shake your heads. Jungkook leans against the backrest before speaking again. Entwines his fingers with you. “But then you’re not. And you’re leaving? Fuck, Noona, why does this feel like a damn tragedy?” Those keen eyes are watching you again. He’s being silly.

“It’s not Kookie, I’m just someone you knew. And you’ll forget me pretty soon.”

“What if I don’t? I mean c’mon, you’re an alien. How many people do you think get to meet aliens in their life?” Jungkook questions very seriously. Earning a punch to his arm. “No but seriously, I don’t think I’ll forget you. And if you really think I will, maybe you could do something unforgettable.” Adds. You roll your eyes.

“Yeah? Like what?”

“I don’t know, like hanging out for the remainder of your stay?” Quirks his brow smugly. Typical Jungkook. You take a moment to answer. You could’ve said no. On different situation. Now, however, you really like the idea of having someone to spend your days with. Or rather three days. Without needing to spend them in the presence of Park Jimin. Constantly being reminded of your heart break and humiliation.

“Only if you help me to find three fucking million Won in like three days.” You raise your brow as well. Trying to ease your own heart. Jungkook gives you an incredulous look.

“Three what?”

“Three million Won Kookie.” It’s fun teasing Jungkook. Only if you can really enjoy this.

“For what?” His eyes are bulging out of his skull.

“I’m kind of in debt to someone.”

“Well, I would’ve to sell my balls then.” Jungkook mumbles, matter of factly.

“Oh yeah?” You smirk. “How much will it worth?” Give him a very serious look.

“Change of plan, I don’t want to hang out anymore. Goodbye Noona.” The way he gets to his feet is comical. Covering his crotch. Makes you chuckle. This time for real.

………………………………………..

You’re partially in pain and partially in shame, when you return to Jimin’s apartment. To find it empty. No sign of him. Good. Brilliant. You don’t want to face him anyway. It’s well past midnight. Jungkook dropped you here after you traumatized the poor guy for an entire day. Bringing horrible ideas about how you can sell his male parts. He took you to his workplace. A restaurant where he works part time. Told you he rents one of the two apartments in the upper flat. Rent free. Namjoon’s parents owns the building. And they love Jungkook more than their own son. How you’re regretting not finding that place earlier. The lovely Kim couple or rather Mrs. Kim graciously offered you a job. Obviously, not knowing a Liya. Jungkook introduced you as you. By your real name. As a fellow college student. Too late, though. What’s the point if you only have three days. Especially when you’re not going to make three million within three days. So, you turned it down. In hindsight, you had a good day. From outside. Smiling and laughing. Nodding and agreeing. Talking and listening. Then from the inside there has been no change.

All day along, your mind has been swirling around one person. It’s frustrating because even you don’t know what you’re expecting from him. Is that really an apology? Is that it? Or just to know he cares? Then what difference would it make? You’ll still leave. He’ll still go back to his life. A happy one. You can have your miserable one. Then why the fuck are you so mad he didn’t even call you once. Why are you slumped on his couch raging with fury that he isn’t even here worrying about you. Why are you sad in the first place. He isn’t your boyfriend. Then why?

Why?

Why?

Why?

You groan loudly. Grabbing a couch cushion and throwing it across the spacious lounge. Repeat the mantra you’ve been saying to yourself the whole day in your mind.

He doesn’t care. He doesn't care. He doesn't care……

Fuck, it hurts. Hurts, hurts and hurts.

…………………………………………

Jimin is sitting in the kitchen. His face is buried in his laptop screen. That’s how you find him when you get down after getting ready. You know he heard your footsteps but is ignoring you on purpose. Fuck him. Fuck his adorable, puffy face and messy hair. Fuck his rude ass. You consider just disappearing out the door. Postponing the much-needed conversation once more. The case is; however, you’re running out of time. You only have one more day in this world. And according to your calculations, you’ll not be here on the destined day. It’s Key who give you the idea that you’ll have to stay here. Since you are required to do everything in reverse order. After all, she had no other options but to believe you when she failed to find a phone from the same brand. Failed to find the people she bet she could. Then you and she teamed up to find answers.

To make her idea work, however, you’ll have to spend another sleepless night. Then to add a pinch of salt to your wounds, you just realized this morning you can’t just make that decision by yourself. Park Jimin has been involved in this mess from the start. You’ll have to talk, whether you like it or not.

Well, to hell with it!

“Jimin.” You finally find your voice after standing here for more than one minute. Cringing at your own voice. It’s too loud. Jimin must’ve gone deaf since he doesn’t even flinch at the sound. Doesn’t acknowledge you at all. Oh, you’ll give Lee Seung a lap dance for a single chance to slap Park Jimin. Unfortunate that you can’t. All you can do is try again. “Jimin.” You call him again. Even louder this time. Still nothing.

For fucks sake! You practically storm toward him. Bridging the gap by just three long steps. Your palm hitting the countertop next to his laptop loudly. Harshly. That it hurts like a bitch. Then Park Jimin doesn’t even blink at that. Yet briefly glance at you.

“Will you fucking stop acting so immature.” You shout. Not that you intended to. It’s out of control now. In the end, it takes Jimin’s full attention to you. Incredulous look on his face as he snickers.

“Immature?” Questions. Finally closes his laptop.

“Yes. Stop acting so immature because we need to talk.” You take a step back. Hands crossing under your chest. Jimin tilts his head to the side.

“Immature...” Mumbles to himself. Stands up. Takes a step toward you. You’re proud at how you don’t budge. “Says the one who avoided me for an entire day.” Looks sharply in your eyes. You hold that eye contact. You hate how your breath hitches and heart skips a beat at his stare. Hate how your mouth goes dry. Ridiculous how you have to force yourself to stay still when he takes another step. Trying hard not to show that you’re affected right now.

“I wasn’t avoiding you.” You hiss through gritted teeth.

“Yeah? Then what were you doing? Staying away purposely for no reason, because everything you do has no reason?” Jimin isn’t shouting like the last times. And for some fucked up reason, to know that you don’t even make him frustrated, makes your heart ache even more.

“No. I don’t know what’s that even supposed to mean but I wasn’t avoiding you, Park. I was hanging out with a friend.” You answer his question. Feeling really annoyed. Earning another scoff.

“Friend? Good. Now you have lot of friends.” He rakes his eyes over you. “Looks like you’re about to do the same today.” Irony in his voice is clear.

“None of your business Park.”

“You’re the one who wanted to fucking talk, Lil. Don’t give me the fucking attitude after you reached me.” Jimin snaps. Finally. Sickening how you feel a bit better.

“I did and you’re not letting me.” You point out. He says nothing, just stares you down. You take that as a hint to continue. “We- uh I need to find what I have to do… To stop this.”

“What’s that got to do with me?”

“Every fucking thing. She wanted me to do everything in reverse order, which means I have to be here. Another night and- uh and you know Li─” God her name seems to get tangled in your throat. “─Liya won’t be here then, and I wanted to ask you whether if it’s okay or not?” You let down a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Jimin takes a moment. That pissed off expression softens. Sinks his teeth into his plump bottom lip. Funny how there are no wonderings anymore. You know how that feels. Those lips.

Okay fuck, focus.

Jimin sighs. Shrugs. Takes a step back. “Yeah whatever, I mean do what you have to do.” Gives you, his opinion. Turns around and grabs his device. Leaves.

Ouch!

………………………………

“You’re absolutely not going to do such thing Kook.” You rub the plate on your hand particularly hard.

“Why not? It’s not a huge sum. I can totally manage.” Jungkook looks alien in this kitchen. Doing the dishes even though it’s not his job here. He is just helping the new hire. Fucking sweet. Too sweet for his own good. That’s why he is about to lend you three million Won, which he doesn’t have yet. Will borrow from Namjoon. Ridiculous since Jungkook knows that you’ll not be here to pay it back. It’ll be on his account. Why would someone do that? Is he some kind of an angel?

“Because I’ll not be able to pay it back Jungkook. I don’t think there’s a way to transfer money across two different worlds.” You point out the obvious. Placing the dried plate on the pile of plates next to the sink. Jungkook didn’t want you to work. But of course, you do. You’re here since you’ve no other place to be. Besides Jimin, Jungkook is the only person you know. You're lucky to have met him. Don’t know what you would’ve done if it wasn’t for him. Today when you reached him, he let you know that unfortunately he can’t ditch the work but said you’re welcome to join him here. Not that the owners mind at all.

“I don’t want you to pay back Noona. It’s just... you look stressed.” He thinks, giving you another washed plate. You take it. Feel fucking awful.

“Well, I’m no one you should care that way Jungkook.”

“But I do. I mean… I’m helping an alie ─”

“Oh, shut up!” You nudge him with your shoulder. He giggles.

“But I’m serious Noona... I can manage, trust me.”

“But I don’t want you to─”

Your protest is interrupted by the sound of the kitchen door slamming against the wall, followed by an enthusiastic voice.

“Kookie─” You and Jungkook both spin around at the same time to face Namjoon, who stops in the middle of the track after his eyes land on you. “Oh! Liya?” He questions. A grin spreading across his face. Before you can respond, a second voice echoes from behind Namjoon’s broad figure.

“Who’s Liya?” Mrs. Kim soon appears to be the owner of that voice. Smiling. You, however, feel your blood freeze inside your body. Eyes wide and panickily snapping toward Jungkook.

Fuck!

When you and Jungkook introduced you as you last time, you didn’t really hope to come back here. Today wasn’t planned. And now, you’re fucked. Yet again. What’s so new? You try to open your mouth with an excuse when Namjoon turns to his mother.

“Her? I mean this is Liya. Holy fuck what are you doing here?” He says to his mother first and asks the latter from you.

“Will you mind your language? And that’s no Liya.” Mrs. Kim happily states, already turning away to mind her own work. But not without telling your name. Saying that’s how you introduced yourself. “You guys know each other?” She asks while peering over a pot. Namjoon, who is utterly confused, looks between her and you. Blinks.

“Uh… that’s her nickname.” Jungkook butts in. Quickly. Oh, you’re glad. Nod furiously agreeing.

“Yeah? Okay...” Namjoon nods to himself. Smiles with his dimples on display before it disappears again. As if a sudden realization hit him. His gaze averts to Jungkook. “Wait? Did you fucking make her do the damn dishes? Bro? Did you make the fucking CEO of The SE wash dishes in our restaurant?” The disbelief in Namjoon’s eyes is comical. “Seriously?” He deadpans. You hear Mrs. Kim gasp. Have no time ponder that though. You chuckle awkwardly.

“Ah no… Namjoon-ah, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You mumble through your smile, gesturing to his mother with your eyes. Namjoon takes a moment. Looking at you like you’ve grown two heads. Not taking your hint at all. Jungkook to the rescue again. Throwing his hand around your shoulder and squeezing.

“Yeah, Hyung, what are you talking about? He is weird these days, Eomeoni.” Says to poor Mrs. Kim, who looks at all three of you. Jungkook gives a stern look to Namjoon. Namjoon opens his mouth again. Yet couldn’t utter a single word when Jungkook lets you go, only to walk around and grab Namjoon’s shoulders. “It’s time you should take a break Hyung. You’re delusional these days. I’ll escort him away.” Gives you a brief glance and says to the old lady in a very dramatic way. Practically drags Namjoon away, leaving you alone to keep smiling awkwardly.

…………………………………

You don’t like so many things. Among those so many things, you specifically don’t like how fast the days are passing. You’re just a day away from the fateful day now. According to your plan, you won’t leave today. Yet, you still have no idea what you’re going to do. It could very well be a special dance around a fire pit. A mortal sacrifice. A bond in blood. Or literally anything.

The other thing you specifically don’t like is how you haven’t seen Jimin. Not even once after your not so civil conversation last time. He is at it again. Ignoring. Avoiding. Being a fucking prick. You’re tired after staring at your phone. Hoping it will light up with a single text. With nothing much but perhaps with a request to talk before you leave. Then there’s nothing. He wasn’t there when you returned to his place that night. He wasn’t there when you woke up this morning. There’s a possibility that he won’t be there when you leave as well. You’re fucking restless. You can’t even hear what Jungkook is saying now. As you’re both sitting on the floor of his cozy little apartment. Your first time being here. If the saying that a person’s place reflects their personality holds true, it doesn’t apply to Jeon Jungkook. This place doesn’t reflect him whatsoever. Except for the mattress on the floor. A fucking mattress on the living room. Single size. For no apparent reason. He claims it’s for sitting purposes. Makes no sense. He sits on either floor or on the couch. Typical, random Jungkook.

“Okay, now you’re going to tell me what exactly you did that day one by one. And we’ll find what opens the wormhole to this parallel universe.” Jungkook shows you his tablet where he has drawn two circles. He erases a little part of the lines on both circles. Indicating the opened doorways between two worlds. You force yourself to pay attention to that instead of your phone. He continues after you hum in acknowledgement. “And then since that creepy lady said you need to do everything you did, in the reverse order, we gonna do it that way.” He opens a new page. And then writes number one on the top. “Go on tell me.” Urges you on.

You take a minute to gather your thoughts and concentrate. Then think about everything. There’s a reason you haven’t done the same with Key. You didn’t want her to know you were heartbroken that day. Not that you want Jungkook to know either, but what other options do you have?

“Um like what? Do we need to go through everything I did that day? I don’t think I remember everything.”  You let him know. He shakes his head.

“I don’t think so. It obviously has to do something with sleeping, so let’s focus on that. What did you do before you went to sleep?” Jungkook bends down, ready to write down what you say. You take a deep breath before answering.

“I cried.” Mumble softly. Jungkook perks up. Head snapping toward you.

“Why?”

“Ah, nothing special, you know young heartbreaks. I’m fine now though.” You brush him off. See now, you and Jungkook just clicks so well together. Not just with age but you really like how he doesn’t push you. He does that most of the times but when you really don’t feel it- like now, he doesn’t. He just nods instead. Writes down what you said.

“Then?” Asks.

“I texted the college fuck boy.” How embarrassing to say that aloud. He doesn’t look at you this time, however. You watch him add the second point. “And he stood me up. I mean he was invited to my place, and he didn’t… and I cried myself to sleep and─” You don’t want to drag out the conversation. Want to get it all off away fast. Jungkook interrupts you though, eyes now back on you.

“What a stupid motherfucker to miss that.” Says nonchalantly. You gape at him.

“Yeah? You think so?”

“Are you kidding me, Noona? Oh, c’mon I’d sell my soul to fuck you.” He is very serious. Got you blushing at the blunt word. You roll your eyes to hide that. Punching his muscular arm.

“Don’t fuck with me Kookie. Focus.” Turn his face away from you with his chin. You think you like how he giggles. And snort. And being annoying. Like how he doesn’t let go of the conversation. Even get you whining in complain. Yet does his job all the while. In the end, you have a list with only five points.

Cried.

Texted the fuckboy. (Stupid Motherfucker.)

Got ready. (Shouldn’t have)

Waited.

Cried again.

“Now what?” You ask, staring at the screen.

“Good question. It doesn’t make sense. Like okay, so you will not cry, obviously.” Jungkook crosses that point away.

Will you? Will you not cry? Well, you can’t cry, that’s the point.

“And you won’t be texting any fuckboys, so no get readying, waiting, or crying again.” He scribbles all the points away. Sighs. “Ah, this is so frustrating…” Groans. Puts the stylus on the table. You watch it roll away. Feeling equally frustrated. Or even more frustrated. A tense silence fall between. Both of you torturing your brains for an answer. For a moment where something special has happened. You can’t think of anything at all. Jungkook speaks again. Lazily and unsurely turning his head toward you.

“What if it’s something like a wish?” Asks with wide doe eyes. But they aren’t glistening. So, you know he isn’t excited about his idea.

“Really?” You peer at his eyes with a deadpan expression. “Easy like that? What is this? A fairy tale? Besides I don’t think I wished to be transported into a different world no matter how heartbroken I was, Kook.” You shake your head for more emphasis.

“I know but look─” Jungkook gestures to the tab again. “─those things don’t make any sense and since you’re so sure that’s all you did; it has to do something with your thoughts obviously. And I’m positive that halmeoni said something about miracles and shit.” Argues. When thinking about it that way, it makes sense in a certain way. Not that you can remember what exactly the lady said. It was like a dream to you

“I don’t know Jungkook, it feels funny to think it was wish.”

“I completely get it Noona, but what if it is? It’s not like we have other options anyway. Maybe, you should try that way.”

“Okay,” You straighten up. Fixing your posture and locking your eyes with him. “Let’s say it was a stupid wish. Then I can’t remember what I wished for. She asked me to do the opposite. How am I gonna do that when I don’t remember it?”

Jungkook fixes his posture as well. “Maybe uhh... because you were so hurt you wished to disappear?” Raises one of his brows skeptically. Oh, Jungkook sure does make sense.  Theres a huge ass possibility you wished for that. But you certainly didn’t wish to be transported into a parallel universe. You take a moment to think it through.

“Well, it’s not like we have other options now, do we? But what if we messed up, like I make the wrong wish? Then what will happen? Should I go like, I wish to appear in my world again. It’s not really like I completely disappeared; I’m shifting.” You make your point, watching Jungkook shakes his head before turning toward you completely. Crossing his legs after he is facing you properly.

“I don’t think that is the case. If it was a wish, I think all you have to do is wish for what you want. Like this─” He closes his eyes. Hands in prayer. “─ I wish for my life back or I wish I would live my normal life again. Something like that. In the end, I think that’ll be the opposite of your initial wish either way.” Teaches you how to do it. This is a very serious situation, yet you couldn’t help the chuckle that escapes you.

“Oh, this is ridiculous but yeah whatever, I’ll chose the first.” You say with an eye roll.

“Good choice Noona. And if it doesn’t work?” He looks you straight in the eye. Smiles softly. “I’m sorry but I’ll be glad.”

The grin on your face falls. A pout replacing it as you take Jungkook in. At least there’s one person who thinks that way. You wish you could have some more time. Wish you can actually get to know Jungkook more. Wish you can have a happy life without anything messing up. Wish you can forgive Jimin and meet him for one last time. He doesn’t want to, however. Doesn’t even want to see you. Jungkook does and you need him to know you appreciate it. Without a single word you throw your hands around him. Placing your chin on his shoulder.

………………………………..

You and Jungkook stand in Jimin’s apartment building’s lobby. It’s getting dark. And is pouring down. Not it’s a common occurrence. Yet at the very moment it occurred, you knew how special the day is. How it is the day you look forward to. It’s exactly like the time you stormed out of this same lobby couple of months ago. A little colder than that. But it’s the same. You and Jungkook are slightly wet. It has been an exhausting yet exhilarating day. A day where you spent it to the fullest. Or at least try to do so. Still, despite Jungkook’s best effort you checked your phone more than a hundred times. Every time your hope was shattered into tiny million pieces. Jimin hasn’t sent you a single message. At this point, you think you should give up. Know he won't be home. Maybe, you should’ve given up and talked to him first. Then the last time you tried that; it went awfully wrong. All you can do is accept. Resignation.

You sigh heavily. Staring into Jungkook’s face. He isn’t smiling anymore. He was throughout the day. If he ever wondered why you don’t hang out with Jimin, he never asked. You’re glad. Know he just doesn’t think it’s because you and Jimin did something wrong. Wrong or not you and Jimin were close. This might raise questions, but Jungkook doesn’t bring it up. You know he can be stupidly annoying, running his mouth and asking things without any prior thoughts. But now he doesn’t. Is simply here for you without expecting anything in return. That breaks your heart. Jungkook made sure you have memories to cherish.

Starting from the last night spent watching movies and drinking beers on his couch. To every single place he could take you. You even have another plushie in your hand. See, it’s never about the time. 

“I really don’t wanna do this.” You mutter in a hoarse voice.

“Neither do I. Is it so selfish to ask you to stay? I mean keep going.” Jungkook smiles, sadly. You chuckle. Just a way of hiding your pain. So many painful things.

“It’s not just about me you know?” You remind him about Liya. True, you did so many horrible things to her but still nothing will compare to stealing her life. Besides, you don’t want to hear Jimin confront you. Ask you to fucking leave. No. You’ll never put yourself in that terrible position. You’ll leave with your head held high. Jungkook nods again.

“In that case….” Sighs. “Noona, I really enjoyed your company, and I really do like you... I mean not in that way, but I do. If I knew you, as you from the first place, I might really have kept you here but yeah… so…” Gulps down his own words. Just bridges the distance between you and pulls you into a warm hug. “I’ll miss you Noona.” Mumbles into your hair. You wrap your hands around his figure. Squeezing him back with a same kind of fervor.

“I’ll miss you too, Kookie. A lot.” You ignore what he said. Partially because you don’t know what to say. Partially because it’s getting harder to talk. Your eyes back to stinging. This time though, you don’t hold back. You let the tears soothe the sting. Allow those tears to roll down your cheeks. “I’ll fucking miss you Kookie. Thanks for being with me for these couple days.” You pull away from him. Peering at his glassy eyes. “I’m kind of homeless, you know. So, it means a lot to me that you helped.” You chuckle through your tears. He does the same.

“I’m glad I helped an alien.” Bites on to his bottom lip coyly. This time you both laugh. Nod. Then you’re back in his embrace. Pass some more things you feel like sharing. Have no idea how long you take for this goodbye. When you finally find the strength to move away, you simply pat his arm. Wipe your tears. Silly.

“Well, then don’t forget you met an alien.” You say as the last thing. Jungkook just nods. “Okay.” You nod too, clutching the plushie in your hand tightly. “Then it’s g-good─” Gosh your voice is cracking again. “Goodbye Kookie.” You take a step back. Then before you can turn around and leave for good, he stops you again. Pulling out an envelope from his jacket pocket. Holding it to you. You look at it with your brows furrowed. Confused.

“Take it, I know you want to pay Jimin back.” He mutters softly. Your eyes widen as you realize what’s inside the envelope. Your head begins to shake involuntarily. You really thought he wouldn’t really do it. You already gave up on finding money.

“No Jungkook, I said no. I can’t take your money.” You take another step back in protest.

“Hey, I know… Listen, I don’t know what happened between you and Jimin but if you want to pay him back you should do it. This is not a lot Noona, I can manage. Joonie isn’t going to send me to prison because of this. Trust me.” Jungkook grabs your hand, trying to place the envelope in. You try your best to free yourself and walk away. Then of course, he is Jungkook. So, you find yourself waving to him, the envelope in your other hand. Eyes teary again. While you stand inside the elevator. He waves back at you. You wave and wave and wave. Until the elevator door closes.

………………………………….

The beeping sound of the keypad echoes through the empty hallway as you enter the passcode to the apartment. Since the day you locked yourself out of this place, Park Jimin has made sure you have access to every single thing inside this building. Everything he and Liya have, you share with them every other day. See, it makes perfect sense to repay him for what he did. Nothing to do with your ego. It’s just that you are being nice. You can keep saying the same thing.

You opened the door to the darkness. Until the sensors pick up your presence and the threshold lights up. In a gloomy yellowish light. You shed your partially wet jacket and step out of your wet shoes. Clutching the envelope tightly as you walk inside. Everything is still dark. There’s no sign of anyone else. The heaviness you already feel in your heart is becoming intense. Unbearable. Even when you knew this is what will happen, you’re disappointed. You stand up in the entryway, steeling yourself. Jimin isn’t here to say goodbye. All the rage and fury you felt has melted away into sadness. You’ll blame it on the goodbye you wished to Jungkook. It played a part truly. There’s no denying that you’re sad to part ways. Forever. You kind of wish you could say goodbye to each and every person you met in this world. But you can’t. Then among everything, you can’t even say goodbye to the person who matters the most.

Park Jimin.

After a deep breath, you step into the dark longue. Hand blindly touching the wall next to you. Searching for the switch panel. The moment your fingertips graze over it; the darkness disappeared. Bringing the world into light. Bringing a figure on couch into your sight. Making you jump and hit the wall accidentally. A low curse leaving your mouth.

Park Jimin.

Just sitting there. His hands entwined together, placed on his knees. Bended forward. Eyes on you. Doing nothing but staring. He really scared the life out of you. What the fuck is he doing like that? He must’ve heard you entering. Then he decided to stay quiet? What a freak? Oh, here comes that rage again. Why are you getting mad when this was what you wanted? You wanted Jimin to be here. Shouldn’t you be happy? Well, that’s the case after all. You’re getting mad because of the satisfactory bubble you feel on the pit of your stomach. That heavy feeling started to ease away. You’re mad because you shouldn’t be this desperate for his fucking attention. So, you let your mouth decide what to do next instead of your brain.

“Why are you here?” You step forward finally. Jimin straightens up, crossing his hands over his chest.

“Why? Do I need your permission to be on my own house?” Asks cockily. Of course, it’s his place.

“Well, you weren’t here all this time?”

“Why should I be here?”

“You shouldn’t, that’s why I’m asking what are you doing here today? Could’ve easily avoided me until I’m gone. Why bother being here?” You take another step forward. Jimin just keeps his eyes on you. Just like you, he’s attacking you with his words. But something in those chestnut eyes tell you he isn’t really mad.

“I didn’t avoid you Lil. You did. And I’m fully allowed to be anywhere I want to. Here, there, anywhere I want.” He shrugs. Your chest tightens again at the nickname. Should you have talked to him first? Why should you? You just nod. Once. “So, you figured how you gonna end this?” He asks again.

“Kind of yes.”

“What do you mean kind of?” Jimin knits his eyebrows. You shoot a glare at him.

“Kind of mean kind of Park. I think I know a way─”

“You think? That means you don’t know Lil.” He finally stands up. This time, it’s he who takes a step forward. “I thought you were working on solving this shit with that kid, but it looks like you’ve been having fun.” He scoffs. Oh, maybe you were wrong to think he wasn’t really mad. He was mad. And he still doesn’t care about you. Is just worried you’ll mess this and stay. Fuck that. Yes, you’re sad but you’ll never let him know. You’ll still say good fucking bye and show him your middle finger. You grit your teeth, preparing to counter back when he doesn’t let you. “And you cried? You’re that sad to leave him?” Laughs with his head tilting to side. “I’m sorry, I might be the villain of your story, demanding you to leave because I want my girlfriend back.” Looks straight in your eyes. You can see the fire in them. What did you do that suddenly he hates you this much. That’s the conclusion you can draw. He might be hating you from his guts. That’s why he looks so furious.

You’ll not cry. You’ll not cry.

You gulp down the lump that is creating on your throat. Cloud your pain with anger. “I fucking did my best Park. I fucking did. And guess what? No, I’m not just thinking. I know. I know how to stop this shit and I’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow morning.” You like the look of confusion on his face as you stride toward him fast. You’re not sure at all. Like you told him. A wish? Jimin will double down with laughter if you tell him that was the idea you came up with. So, you won’t tell him. Instead, you’ll leave him in the darkness and pretend like you know everything. Then you’ll hope everything will work eventually. “Then you can live happily ever after, you fucking asshole.” You screech, inches away from his face. Stare furiously into his brown eyes for a minute before pushing the envelope into his chest. Your movements so harsh that it makes him take a step back. One of his hands involuntarily comes up to grab the thing you’re showing against him. Confused. Looking at you with wide, doe eyes.

“Here’s the things I owe you. I know it’s not enough but that’s something and keep this as well. Not that it’ll be useful anyway.” With your other hand you push your phone into his chest as well. “GOOD. FUCKING. BYE! Park Jimin.” You wait a minute as you grit the words out. Wait till he catches the phone too before you step away. Turning around to leave. Not completely knowing what’s the next step but you’ll just make a wish while you’re on the bed. Looking to your side to stop the tears from rolling down. Biting inside your lip.

You’ll not cry. You’ll not cry…

You nearly storm away for once and for all hopefully, when your arm is suddenly stuck between firm fingers. “What the fuck are you doing? What are these?” Jimin hisses in your ear. His fingers firmly and tightly wrapped around your forearm. This is fucking annoying. You need to get away before you tear up in front of him. You’ve put you through enough humiliation in your life already. Don’t need another one. You slightly turn around, making sure you shoot the same glare at him.

“That’s fucking money Park. Are you dumb? You can’t see that’s money? Why are you asking things that are so obvious?”

“I know that’s…. Why the fuck are you giving me money?” Jimin sighs before yanking from your hand to turn you properly to face him. Making you wiggle your hand. He lets you go. You’re still standing a mere inch away from him. Only if this is a different situation.

“Because I don’t want to leave as a debtor to you.”

“I don’t want your damn money Lil. What do you take me for? A fucking beggar?” Jimin pushes the envelope and the device back towards you. Which you don’t take in your hands. Instead, you take a step back.

“Well, I don’t care what you want Jimin. I told you; I won’t be in your debt.” Throw your hand in the air. “You’re so fucking rich, I know that. You don’t want the money, do whatever you want with it Park. Burn it for all I care.” You yell. Throw a murderous glare. Attempt another failed escape when Jimin grabs your arm again. Harsh. Hard. His other hand cups your cheek. Brings his face closer to you. So fast that you can’t even comprehend what’s happening until he is breathing on your face. You gasp. Surprised by his sudden actions.

“I don’t want your money. I won’t take it.” Grits against your mouth. His hand on your cheeks squeezing you tightly. Like he wants to break you. Or wants to make you realize he doesn’t want your money. You’re not someone to back away, though.

“I don’t fucking care Jimin.” You grit back. Still glaring. Not giving up.

“You’re taking that with you.” Jimin demands. Gets you laughing but failed since he is squeezing your cheeks. If you weren’t so furious and hurt, this might’ve been enough to get your knees buckling. The proximity. His breath. Warmth. Every single thing about him is enough. But you know better than that. So, you push him away at the same time you swat his hand. Failed. Yet again.

“You think you can demand me? Well, too bad Jimin.” You grab from his wrist. “I won’t take it back. I’ll make sure I pay you back even if it’s the last thing I do.” Try your best to push his hand away. Not working. If anything, he pulls you closer with your arm. Never stop abusing your cheeks.

“Then I’ll make sure you don’t even if it’s the last thing I do.” He growls. You don’t know how but somehow; he has inched his face even closer to you. His lips graze over yours when he speaks. Something changed. It’s not just stubborn anger anymore. It’s not the need to win this stupid fight anymore. And of fucking course, your breath hitch. Despite all the hurt and anger inside you, your body instantly start to react to Park Jimin. Because everything about him is just enough. All it takes is a light touch of his lips against yours. You’re breathless and speechless. Jimin shakes your face. Asking you to reply.

“Just take the fucking money Park. Burn it down like I said.” You weakly mutter this time. Trying to hide the beating of your heart. And your uneven breathing.

“I don’t want that Lil. Why are you stubborn always?”

“I already told you.”

Jimin doesn’t say anything to that. Just keeps his hold on you. Still harsh. Still hard. Then sighs.

“You want to pay me that bad?” Asks. You feel small under his intense gaze. Your heart is beating violently inside your poor rib cage. “Hm?” Pushes.

“Yes.” You’re glad you said that sternly. Jimin takes another silent moment.

“Fine…. Let me fuck you then.” Free your cheeks, only to curl that hand around your waist. Pulling you flat against his chest in one swift motion. Eyes burning into yours. The fire is visible. Wasn’t that anger? Your breath tangles in your throat. Yet again. Your tummy does a flip and heart stops. A shudder engulfs you. Still, you look at him with disbelief. Despite the wave of heat washed over you, you stare at him with wide eyes. Did he just?

No words escape your dry lips. “Let me fuck you Lil.” He repeats. “Let me have my way with you.” Whispers against your lips. Sending tingles all over your body. “You wanted to pay. Pay in this way.” Tilts his head to the side, so his lips are touching your cheekbones now. You can’t speak still. Speechless. Spellbound. You should slap him. What a fucking filthy, shameless…. “I know I’m an asshole to say this, but what’s new Lil… I am an asshole. You know that. I know that too. I’m a fucking selfish prick.” He presses a kiss to your cheekbone. Is touching you without your consent? Or is he? You’re not stopping him once again. You’re making the same mistake all over again. Isn’t this what they call taking advantage?

If you know that you should stop him. He should repulse you. Not this weak when his hands slips down to your hips. Grabs your flesh hard. Mumbling against your skin. “Baby please.” Whines. Park Jimin fucking whines. Breathless. Hands go past your hips to your ass. Molding the flesh roughly. You can’t suppress your uneven breathing anymore. “Just want you. Can’t keep this damn thing inside me anymore baby. I… I fuck, Lil please…”  Presses your body hard against his, hands squeezing your ass cheeks relentlessly. Voice dark and low.  You don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the damn plead. To hear him beg. For you. In that raspy voice. Dear god, it does things to your body that you can’t even bring yourself to explain. “Fucking please...” It’s the last straw for you. You find words.

“You are so shameless Park Jimin.” You should add your name to that as well.

“I know.” Jimin presses another kiss to your cheek. Pulls away to look at your face. “But I tried Lil. I really tried but fuck I can’t.” His lips meets yours. You stay still. Don’t kiss him, don’t stop him. He doesn’t mind that apparently. Kisses you hard.  “I know how wrong and shameless I am. But guess what baby? I don’t care. Just want to fuck you. Say yes Lil. You wanted to pay. So, pay me for everything I did.” Kisses your jaw. “I’ll make sure I get everything you can give.” Kisses your neck. You absolutely don’t intend to touch him but that’s what you’re doing. Your fists bunched up in his black T-shirt. His hands are everywhere now. Touching you. Holding you close. Lips exploring the skin which is exposed to him with your long sleeve top. You don’t really think you said yes. Not verbally at least. In the end, however, you always give up. That’s how you find tilting your face to the side. To meet his lips which he keeps busy on your skin. There’s an uncontrollable, feral desire building inside you. And it snaps when Jimin latches on to your lips.

You really can’t understand how he gets you shamelessly moaning just with one flick of his tongue against yours. Can’t understand how your back suddenly ended up meeting the couch leather. Can’t understand what devil possessed Jimin that he is kissing you like he went mad. Hovering over you. You spread your legs so he can slot between them perfectly. His bulge can align with your cunt comfortably. He doesn’t break the kiss for a good long. Keep it messy and filthy. Sucking and licking. Teeth clanking. Until he can’t take it anymore. Until your already swollen and bitten lips aren’t enough. He wants more. So do you. That’s why you’re bucking your hips upward to create that familiar heavenly friction on your dripping cunt.

Jimin is attacking your neck now, propping on one arm to tug on your top with the other. In vain since he can’t tug the neckline down enough. Enough to reveal what he wants to see. You’re covered too much for his liking it seems.

“Off Lil, shit, I’ll rip it otherwise.” He makes space between your smushed bodies. This time tugging at the bottom. You nod and allow him. Not because you care about your cheap clothing but because now, you’re impatient. Just like him.

“Jimin.” A whimper leaves your mouth as Jimin get rid of your top. He groans.

“God, I missed this.” Mumbles. Makes you giggle. Not for so long when he is unhooking your bra. Giggles turn into another shameless moan when you feel his warm tongue on your hardened nipples. “Fuck baby, I missed this. Missed you.” He confesses. Almost as if he’s in an entrance. Doesn’t belong to this world. That makes your heart explode. You’re worried it’ll really explode. It’s too much. Everything is too much. His words. His hot tongue, sucking on your tits, making them drenched. His breath hitting your cold skin. His hands roaming over your exposed body, molding the flesh and rubbing. You’re in an entrance too. Brain’s empty and fuzzy.

“Me too. Missed you..” You hear yourself mumble groggily. That voice can’t belong to you now, can it? Your fingers go to thread in his silky blonds without your knowledge. Back arching and pushing your wet nipples more into his mouth. Jimin nods to your chest, acknowledging your words. Kissing every inch of your skin. Biting and sucking. Fucking worshipping your body. Kisses the underside of your boobs, kisses your cleavage, kisses your tummy. You’re moaning so loud now. Desperate and needy like always. It’s your turn to tug on his T-shirt now. Jimin isn’t difficult today, surprisingly. Relent without a single word. Throws it away somewhere in this spacious space. Apparently, doesn’t have the enough patience to be a little tease and make you suffer. Is unbuttoning your jeans the moment his torso is naked. Your jeans and panties face the same destiny. They are thrown somewhere in a second. He gets you bare in record time. You whimper watching his breath hitch at your naked figure. Pupils dilated and face flushed. Pure sin. The Park Jimin. Even his hungry stare is enough to make you cum. Odd.

He places his hands on your knees to spread your legs. Harsh and fast. Revealing your glistening pussy to his sight. Curses. “Fucking hell.” Groans. “You’re soaking.” Wets his lips, greedily. Oh fuck, he is going to be the death of you. “Wanna taste you so bad.” Gulps. Brings his fingers just to graze them over your sloppy slit. Over your sensitive clit. Making your thighs twitch.

“Do it please.” You plead with your sight hazy. Jimin dips down at light speed. His tongue taking a one long stripe over your slit. From your clenching hole to your clit. Feral. Moans into your cunt as he tastes you. You expect him to suck on your clit. But then after that one taste he is pulling away like all he wanted was a taste. Much to your dismay. You look at him with confused eyes. He is spreading your legs even more, however. Eyes glued on your cunt. Groans. Whimpers. Restless. Peeks at your face. “I- I can’t anymore Lil….” He doesn’t complete his sentence. There’s no need to. You know what he wanted to say. Simply he doesn’t know what to do first. He wants all. He, like you, is turned on in a humanly impossible way. Doesn’t know how to satiate that burning desire. Ache. You want to be helpful.

“Fuck me. Jimin fuck me. I can’t either, want you inside me. Now.” Your grabby hands reach him to pull him forward. Kissing him hard. Let him go when he abruptly stands up. “Condom.” He mumbles as he storms away. Isn’t it comical how his brain isn’t functioning properly? It should be but all it does is make new waves of arousals pool between your thighs. Now dripping down into his expensive couch. Jimin reappears in the lounge even before you can blink. Already tugging on the drawstrings to lose his sweats. You act on your instincts, spreading your legs wide to present yourself to him. To the furthest you can with the backrest limiting your space. Impatiently. Jimin lets his sweats pool around his ankles. Kicks it away. His boxers are the next to follow. Is completely naked when he reaches the couch. Foil package already tucked in his teeth when he is sitting between your spread legs. Rips the package and takes the latex out. Eyes darting from your swollen cunt to your fucked up face. Watching you biting down on your bottom lip. Eyes pleading and hips sneakily pushing up in search of anything.

“You don’t need prep baby?” Jimin questions. Concerned. Eyes now fixed on your face and his movements halted. “Can you take me?” Looks at your cunt again. As if he is assessing your abilities. The thing is you can’t wait anymore. Just like him. You nod furiously. “I can, I’m positive. Please.” Push your hips forward. Jimin takes a moment to make sure you’re telling the truth. When he is, he nods, going back to resume his work. Giving few pumps to his throbbing and aching member. You watch in awe how he does that swiftly. Pumping. Making pre cum spread across his tip with his thumb. You’ll always think he’s the most beautiful. No difference to his dick. Hard and swollen. Veins running down. Oh, you want him inside you now. You’re clenching around nothing violently. “Jimin please.” You hurry him up. Urging him to quickly roll down the latex on his pretty cock. What a shame! No time to brood when he is finally hovering over you again. One hand place next to your head and the other still holding his dick. Aligning it with your cunt. Rubs the tip along your slit couple times. Those blown out eyes looking sharp in your eyes.

“Ready?” Asks. You nod. Another push from your hips for more emphasis. Jimin doesn’t waste time. Places the tip against your tiny entrance. Doesn’t break eye contact as he slowly start to push inside. His swollen tip intruding your walls. Stretching you up. The initial burn hits you hard. How long it has been after all. Should’ve asked for preparation. Good thing you’re so needy and dripping. And Jimin taking it slow. “Shh... it’s okay Lil. Slow. You can take me. I know you can.” He coaxes you. “Take me Baby. Like that..” Soothes you while his hard member is sneakily entering your warmth. His teeth almost draw blood on his plump lip. Looks like it’s a war inside him not to accidentally hurt you by pushing forward hard. You try to relax as he keeps pushing. His dick perfectly sliding against your warm walls. Pleasurable inch by inch, he pushes forward completely. Finally, filling you to the brim as his hips presses against you. You both moan loudly. Your hands finding purchase in his hair again.

“Fuck, like that.” Jimin balances himself by bringing his other hand on the other side of your head. Eyes closed tight. You can feel his dick twitch inside you. What a feeling. That is. What a sight. Jimin hovering above you. Struggling internally because of you. “So fucking tight Lil….” Groans. You moan. Allowing your walls to adjust to his perfect size. To get use to the pleasurable burn. And it’s subsiding fast. Replacing only with pleasure. Pleasure that makes your blood liquid fire. You grind your hips against him. Languid. “Jimin.” Call. Jimin grabs your waist tight.

“A moment baby, give me a moment.” He is still closing his eyes. Basking in the feeling. You would’ve liked to do the same, but he feels too good. You can’t control yourself. So, you buck your hips again.

“Please.” Show your hands around his neck. Clutch him tightly. Holding on to him for your dear life. Jimin presses his forehead against yours. Groans.

“You’re so tight baby. I’ll come if I move now. Give me a minute princess.” He rasps. You shivered. Partially due to the pleasure. Partially due to his nickname. He called you what? And then to know he is affected that much. Going crazy. Makes your brain goes haywire. Makes you much more desperate. Hence, you’re doing the complete opposite of what he asked you to do. Instead of giving him the minute he wanted you’re pushing more into him. Your walls spasming around his rock-hard dick.

“God Jimin please, please. Please move. Fuck me.” You nearly cry. Jimin kisses you hard. Just to shut you up.

“God dammit Lil. Don’t plead... fuck, don’t do that.” Grinds his hips. You clench around him. Yet again. Involuntarily. Do it again. Then again and again. Until Jimin is whining. Breathless. Your foreheads are still touching. “Ah… Please baby, don’t. Stop it.” Pleads. This is how you’ll die.

“Can’t help it.” You slur. He accepts that. Takes a breath before finally composing himself. Giving you what you want. Drags his hard member out till only the tip remains inside. Looks at your face when he rams back. Not slow, not hard either. Just sensual and enough to let you feel every inch of him drags against your sensitive walls. You’re reeling. Moaning. Nails digging into his biceps. He does it again. Setting up a pace, thrusting in and out of your soppy cunt. Moaning when your needy hole sucks him up greedily.

“Fuck Lil. You feel so good.”

You can only nod. Mind completely full of the sensation between your legs. It’s pure pleasure now. Only that and Park Jimin. Covered in sweats. Placing occasional kisses on your lips as his hips slam against yours. Peering into your eyes. He looks otherworldly. Lost in the heat of your cunt. And the tightness. But then he looks like he is still struggling. That war is still going inside him. Holding back. You don’t want that. “Jiminie….” You breathe against his lips. Sniveling. He looks at you. Questioning with his eyes. “Harder please.” Request. Jimin tremble. His hand on your hips squeezing you so tight that you’re worried you’ll break.

“Harder?” Jimin repeats. You nod. “Yeah?” He is just asking for the sake of it. “Like this.” Stops his thrusting only to ram his hips against you so hard that your back leaves the couch. You moan, nodding. Eyes getting teary. “More?” Asks. Why should he even bother. You don’t even realize that you’ve nodded when he snaps his dick inside you harder than before. “Fucking hell, princess, take it like that.”

Within a minute he is fucking into you fast. Pounding. Desperate. And when he snakes his hand under your ass to push you up a little you know you’re wrecked. For now, and forever. The change of angle making his dickhead presses against your sweet spot. Your thighs shaking. Each hungry thrust brings you closer to your edge. You prepare yourself for that feeling. Eyes closed and scratching Jimin’s back. Only for his hand to disappear from you ass and grab your jaw instead. Making your eyes snap open.

“Eyes on me baby. Keep looking at me.” He picks his pace a notch up. Relentless. Brutal. Pulls away from the heat of your body so he can look at you properly. Keeps his hand on your jaw. “Keep your slutty eyes on me when you cream my cock.” Takes his hand away. Places that on your sensitive nub. Starts to rub it harshly. What more you could ask for. “Go on Lil. Cum. Squeeze my cock like the desperate slut you are.” Grits through his clenched teeth. And you comply. Of course, you do. Without a single word. The tension inside your body snaps so fast. White spots appearing on your vision and ears ringing.

“Jimin. Jimin…. Fuuckk.” His name is the only thing you can mutter. The orgasm hits you long and hard. Jimin prolongs it to the best he can. When your vison becomes clear again you can see how pleased he is. Wicked smile on his lips. Overstimulates you with his hand and hips never stopping. You believe he will keep pounding till he follows you. But then he pulls out. Confusing you. Yet again.

“Turn around. On your knees. Want to fuck you harder.” Commands. Doesn’t give you enough time to follow it though. Already manhandling you on to your knees. You place your hands on the arm rest. Grab it tightly since you can’t trust your legs. Your body is weak after the intense pleasure that washed over you. Pussy still spasming.  Legs shaking. Jimin grabs your hips, pulling up so your ass is perked up perfectly. Your already ruined, throbbing hole full on display. Presses your head down. Back arched. You can hear him groan.

“You’re such a sight princess. Fucking slut.” He mumbles more to himself before you can feel his hot tip back on your entrance. This time he enters you in one hard thrust. You cry as he splits your cunt. “Jimin…” Back to chant his name. He sets a merciless pace without further ado. Fingers digging into the supple flesh of your ass. Smacks it. Not hard enough for you to hurt. Just enough to sting a little. And how you like the feeling. So, you wiggle your ass. Earn another one. Making him chuckle darkly.

“You like that?” Asks. Doesn’t wait for your answer when he does it again. And again, with his hips striking against your ass in a brutal pace. “Fuck. Fuck. Cunt sucking me in so good Lil. You feel so tight and good. I don’t want to stop fucking you, I can’t fucking stop.” Moans.

“Then d-don’t J-Jimin.” You say into the leather of the couch. Eyes now rolling back and drooling. He mutters something incoherent to that. Bends down to mumble in your ear. One hand snaking around your throat.

“Say you wanted this too baby. Just like me. Say you wanted to have my cock splitting you up.” Tightens his grip on your throat slightly.

“I did. I do. J-Jimin... I wanted it so bad... I want you. Want you to keep ruining my cunt.” A much-dignified version of you would’ve buried yourself alive to hear you say that. But that’s worthy when Jimin grunts. Parises you.

“That’s a good slut. C’mon baby make me cum. You need to pay me after all.” He straightens up. But takes you with him. Now your back plastered against his chest. Hand still on your throat and spilling filth against your ear. “But I’ll be generous. Cum one more time for me hm?” His cock keep massaging your inner walls. Hitting the spot repeatedly. “Be a useful whore and cum one more time princess. C’mon.” Squeezes your throat. Free hand starts assaulting your sensitive clit again. “One more for me.” Kisses your face. Messily. It doesn’t take much. Of course, it doesn’t. It’s Jimin after all. Even before you know it, your head is falling back on to his shoulder. You grab on to his hands for strength. Him being the only thing that keeps you upright as your second- even more intense orgasm hits you. Your whole body going feral as Jimin fucks into you through that.

“Like that. Yes, fucking like that baby. Squeeze me. Milk me dry.”

You do as he says. It’s out of your control anyway. He makes your body do whatever he wishes. Your cunt is gripping him tightly. How heavenly Jimin moans in your ear.

“Fuck yes.”

You know he is close. The way his grip tightens and how he is losing the precision of his pounding are the signs. “So close baby. Gonna cum so hard for you.” Promises. And all it takes is another pathetic beg from you. A beg for him to cum. To cum so good for you. He does. With a loud groan and teeth painfully sinking onto your shoulder. His hand around your throat leaving its position to wrap his arms around your petite body. Holding you close as his hips stutter and stills against your plump ass. Releasing his seeds to the latex wrapper. You keep clenching around his pulsing dick, milking every last drop like he wanted. Jimin keeps you in that position for a minute. The lounge which was filled with lewd sound of your cunt against his cock and the slapping of skin, now fills with the ragged breathing. You both trying to calm down.

Jimin lets you go after a moment. Your limp legs instantly give up and fall forward. His softening member slipping out of your cunt. He follows you. Putting his weight on your body as your face meet the leather again. Another peaceful moment passes. Then he is pulling away. You lazily turn your head to catch him removing the condom. Tying it up and placing it somewhere that’s hidden from your sight. Turning his gaze back to you. You don’t know what’s next. You never knew that from the first place. Not that it matters anyway now, is it? This is the last day and there’s no tomorrow to be worried about. Whatever he does, you’ll accept it. Only that you don’t expect him to reach for your face. Trace your cheek softly before looking at you with glittery eyes. Sparkling. Full of adoration. Affection.

Fuck!

Your heart is back to beating fast. “You okay?” He asks softly. Voice like honey. Music. Soothing. You nod. “Sure?” Always needs reassurance. “Yes, Park.” You mutter. He gives you a firm nod. Gently turns you around with your arm. You just let him, not having any strength. Stare into his glistening eyes when you’re fully turned around and comfortable. Jimin wipes your cheeks with his palm. Says nothing when he suddenly stands up. Searching for his discarded clothes. Finds his sweats and pull it up. Asks you to stay put as he leaves. You just keep lying there. Still stark naked. Wondering what he is doing. Get your answer when he is back with a wet towel in his hand.

Double fuck!

This is bad he is doing this after care shit. It’s bad he makes you believe he cares again. You’re already fucked up anyway. Because of this man. It never was about sex. Or burning, unrelenting desires. If it was just that, you wouldn’t have been that much of an emotional mess. Now him doing this, makes it all worse.

“Wh-what are you─” You don’t get to finish your question when he pries your legs open.

“What does it look like?” He gently places the warm towel on your sensitive pussy. You wince. Wipes down the slick that is covering your nether parts and thighs. He is so gentle that it almost makes you lull into sleep. Throws the towel away and holds his t-shirt for you. You lazily take it from him. Hiding your nakedness with it. Don’t have enough strength in you to protest. Are lying down again the moment you’re covered. Eyes never leaving his careful glance. You keep staring at each other for a long couple of minutes. As if this is the first time you saw each other properly. In deep down, of course, you’re beginning to worried. You finally did it. Committed the crime. So, now what? Just parting ways after a good fuck. Apparently, no. There’s more to it. Jimin sighs heavily. Makes you slightly wince in surprise when he leans down over you again. Back to caressing your cheek while you watch him with wide eyes. Halts his actions. “Fuck.” Curses softly. In a way of regretting.  Closes his eyes and opens them again. You have no idea what’s going on inside his head. And you don’t expect it to be this when he finally speaks.

 “I’m sorry.” He says. Catches you off guard. “I’m fucking sorry Lil.” Repeats. Voice wavering. Touches your face again. Brushes your hair out of your face. “I’m such a fucking jerk. I’m sorry.” Nudges your nose with his. Ever so slightly. Touch barely there. Says it again. Over and over. Mumbling an apology after an apology. You’re beyond surprised.

Is he sorry for breaking your heart? Or is he sorry for fucking you?

“I’m so sorry baby. Sorry for saying those shitty things to you. You don’t deserve… I… I... don’t deserve to have you like this.” He solves your problem. You keep staring at him. The worry in his eyes. Regret. And you swear you can see fear. You hesitantly raise your hand to touch his cheek. Don’t know what’s happening. You want to say something, but he doesn’t let you.

“But please don’t leave.” Says out of nowhere. If you were surprised earlier, now you are dumbfounded. Jimin looks down at you with panicked eyes. “Don’t leave Lil. I’m sorry and I’ll make it right. Just don’t go.” Rambles. Lenas into your touch. Pecks your lips. Looks like he is on the verge of crying. “Don’t go.” Hides his face on your neck.

What’s happening?

You stare into the white ceiling now. Keeping Jimin top of you. Pondering. Thinking. Not believing what’s happening.

He wants you to stay.

“That’s such a selfish thing to ask.” Mutter into his ear finally.

“I know.” He chuckles. Bitterly. “I’m selfish. I don’t even know what I want. But maybe there are other ways. I owe you, don’t I? I don’t want you to leave like that. Give me a chance to make it right. Please?” He says to your neck. You have millions of questions to ask. Why would he want to make it right at all. What’s the point? What’ll happen to Liya.

“What about Liya?” You voice out your concerns. You did what you did. No use of sugar coating the bitter truth anymore. “You want her to keep vanish like this.” You’re not accusing him. Just curious. Jimin is silent for a minute.

“No. But I don’t want you gone Lil.” Admits honestly. You don’t know if you’re fully on board with him. Don’t know what you’re doing. What will happen the next day? Still, you find your hands curling around his back tightly.

“Maybe, there are ways.” Say to yourself more than to him.

……………………………….

Jimin holds you close while his eyes are droopy. You’re already fast asleep but nothing has happened yet. You’re still in his hands. Safe and sound. Peaceful. Jimin doesn’t think he has been this sleepy in his life before. Yet he can’t find it in himself to rest his eyes. Doesn’t want you out of his sight. What if you don’t stay true to your words. What if you lied and never come back. He would deserve it then, wouldn’t he? For being immature. For not knowing how to deal with his own feelings. Figures out shits like an adult. He would deserve to lose you forever for treating you like trash.

When he begged you to stay. He didn’t plan that. He was so sure the best thing is to let you go. When he finally had you. He didn’t plan that either. Was just here because he couldn’t resist the urge anymore. Would’ve regretted it for his whole life if he had never said goodbye. At least didn’t see you for one last time. Nothing had been planned. But here you are. Back in his arms. Snuggle perfectly into his chest. As if that’s the place you should be. He told you half the truth earlier. He blamed you because he was scared of his own mind. What a fucked-up situation it was for him to be jealous of Jungkook, when you said his girlfriend will be permanently erased from this world. He should lose his mind over it. He did lose his mind that day. Not because of that. Because you’re leaving. And that scared the shit out of him.

You were his priority that moment. Not Kim Liya. That’s scary. It’s still scary. You are the priority. What is he going to do now. You agreed to stay. And no matter how stupid it sounded when you said that thing about the wish. There’s a possibility it could work. Then you agreed to use that wish to try and see if you could make everyone’s life better. You agreed to wish for Liya’s normal life while this situation keeps happening to you. Not either of you know if it could work. You and Liya can’t exist in the same world you said. But who’ll know. That’s the final decision you came up with.

Maybe he is jumping on to that pit of fire again. Choosing the wrong path. And he is dragging you with him. See, selfish. Selfish enough to be happy that no matter how hard the future will be, you’ll be in it. Through roughs and softs. Jimin has you. How comforting. To hold you back again after days in hell. Rotting inside his own body. Restless. In pain. Breaking. Going crazy. Hating Jeon Jungkook with passion. Just because he got to have you when Jimin couldn’t. Jimin doesn’t know why he’s being so possessive. What does he want from you? Sex? You? Or is it something else? It doesn’t matter in the end. All that matters is, he has you again.

It's okay if he’s jumping on to fire pits. As long as he can have this. As long as he can have you. He’ll keep choosing the wrong paths. Keep burning in fire pits.

He’ll gladly choose this torture.

The burning pit of fire.

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

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[uwuyangeppie]

you are in jail.

again.

with the way your criminal record is going, you’re not going to find any job that’ll take you in. you’ll have to marry a rich man or come across a ton of money yourself or something.

you don’t actually know why you’re in here. you’ve known other people to get way better sentences than you. the last guy (that you know of) that shoplifted got thirty hours of community service and a night in a cell. he did not get a week behind bars.

the captain of the silvermane guards is sitting opposite you, going through some paperwork of some kind. why he’s here is a complete mystery to you; he should definitely be doing other things. even if the reading is that important, doesn’t he have, like, a desk? you shoplifted. you do not need to be guarded by the captain of the silvermane guards.

nonetheless, maybe he can help you figure out why you’re in here.

“hey, can you stop putting me behind bars, please? other people get off way lighter!” maybe you should’ve said his name first, to get his attention, but his head snaps up anyway to meet your eyes. they’re a bit disconcerting, to be honest.

“it’s your own fault. you should be better at not getting caught.”

you blink. and then laugh. “is that a joke, gepard?” it’s so unexpected that you forget to use his title. well, maybe he’ll see it as a friendly gesture and change your sentence.

something in his eyes changes, but you can’t figure out what it is.

“say that last bit again.”

“a joke?”

gepard shakes his head and sets down the bundle of papers he had in his hand. “no. the bit after it.”

“gepard?” that’s his name, right? he hasn’t been replaced with a copy, or anything? maybe you should’ve stuck to captain?

“again.”

“gepard.” you’re not any more confident the second time around, and a deafening silence follows it. you swallow nervously. eventually, he sighs.

“fuck it.”

fuck what, in particular…?

“you wanted a change in sentence, didn’t you?”

wait, it worked?! for real?! no, he’s not letting you out. maybe he doesn’t have the keys for the cell? nah, that’s not it either. you can see them hanging from his belt. maybe he has some paperwork to fill out before you can be set free? he raises an eyebrow. oh, he’s waiting for an answer.

“yes, please.” you give him your best puppy-eyes. a smile pulls at his lips. wow, have you managed to manipulate the captain of the silvermane guards? you must be cuter than you thought.

“i’ll make up some excuse. let’s put you under house arrest, shall we?”

a sudden chill shoots up your spine. something’s telling you that it’s better to be in the cell. “uh, i don’t really have a house to live in.”

that’s true. you’re forever moving from place to place- although technically, you’ve been spending quite a good chunk of your time underground at the moment. still, he doesn’t have to know that. you’re safer here.

he smiles at you, but it’s no longer reassuring. “don’t worry, i know.”

and what does that mean, exactly?

gepard reaches for you through the bars. you’re too slow and fail to pull away before he manages to grab your hand, squeezing it gently and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “i, of course, mean my house.”

your heart stops in your chest. his eyes have taken on a crazed look.

“and hey! maybe you’ll even like it so much you want to stay forever. wouldn’t that be nice?”

you want to tell him that you’ve changed your mind! you’re fine to stay in jail! unfortunately, by the time it takes for your voice-box to start working again, he’s already gone.

[jpitha]

If Humans tolerate a greater amount of ambiguity than other Sapients, their risk tolerance is off the charts. Even a baseline human's risk tolerance would make any non-deathworlder sapient excrete themselves with fear and run the other way.

Timothy the human is with his friend Selleg, who he has offered to take to Earth for a week to "see the sights." They are at the spaceport, having just disembarked.

Selleg struggles with his new wheeled luggage. "Ugh, it's so heavy here."

"I'm sorry. I forget that you're not used to Earth gravity. Do you need me to wheel your luggage?" Timothy looks on with genuine concern for his friend.

"I'll be fine. I just hope we don't have to walk too far."

"Nah, the car-rental booth is right here, I'll get us a car and we can drive to my parents."

At the rental booth, Selleg is fascinated with the whole process. Timothy and the clerk go through the options and different kinds of vehicles available. Timothy is asked if he wants "the extra insurance" and he agrees immediately. He exchanges payment and with keys in hand, they walk to the lot.

"I had no idea there were so many different cars to choose from." Selleg remarks. Back home, everyone takes mass transit. Personally owned vehicles don't really exist."

"Really? Huh. I'd love to check it out someday!" They approach a red, low slung vehicle. It has that look that most human machines do of being alive and ready to pounce. Leave it to a predator species to make everything look like it's also a predator. "Okay! Here, I'll put your suitcase in the trunk and we'll set off."

They get in, and Timothy shows Selleg how the seatbelts work. "Just across your body like this and then click the silver part into the slot with the red button there. With a satisfying clunk, the seatbelt is secured. Selleg stares at all the buttons and dials and screens and switches. "Why are there so many displays?"

"What? Oh. Some tell me things about the car, and it's speed, temperature, mileage, things like that, others are for the entertainment system, and still others are for the heating and cooling."

Selleg stopped "The operation of the car is not automatic?"

Timothy shook his head "Nah, it's all manual. Don't worry, I know how to drive."

"You. Operate. This. Vehicle?" Selleg was clearly nervous.

"Sure! I've been doing it since I was 16. Only had one bad accident that whole time." Timothy pushed the start/stop button and the car roared to life. It settled down into a burbling idle. "I sprung for the sports car. It's been a while since I've driven, and I probably won't get another chance for a long time, so I decided to treat myself!"

"You haven't driven in a long time and decided to get a more powerful car anyway?"

"I'll be careful." Timothy promised. Let's go!" He put it in gear and pulled out into traffic.

****

"THAT WAS INSANE! YOU ARE INSANE!" Selleg was yelling.

"That was a perfectly normal drive!" Timothy pleaded. "Selleg, there was nothing unusual about it."

"You were driving less than two meters from the other cars!"

"It was heavy traffic."

"You were going over 100kph!?!"

"All the other cars were too" Timothy answered weakly.

"We passed three crashed cars!!"

"Yeah? Cars crash. Usually it's the drivers fault. I didn't see any ambulances, so everyone was probably all right."

"DON'T YOU THINK THEN THAT MAYBE YOU SHOULDN'T ALL BE DRIVING???" Selleg's fur was bristled and he was pacing.

"I'm sorry you were worried Selleg, it was a perfectly normal drive. I thought you'd be nervous about your first car ride so I drove carefully."

"That was carefully?" This is normal for humans?"

"Driving? Yes. that was by all accounts a perfectly normal drive. Some humans even like it"

In the high gravity of Earth, Selleg sat down heavily. "What have I signed up for?"

Timothy looked at his friend. "I'll just go ahead and cancel the skydiving tickets." he said sadly.

[thetriumphantpanda]

baby, I'm the whole damn meal

I have no explanation other than I need to find myself a dbf!Joel of my own because this man is magic. Welcome to part 6 with our friendly neighbourhood DILF. Enjoy.

Pairing | dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary | Joel saves your ass by giving you a ride to work, and then promises you a night you won't forget.

Word Count | 4.2k

Warnings | As ever, blanket warning for dbf!Joel being a general menace. Age gap (Reader is 25, Joel is 36), flirting, light sexting, edging/orgasm denial, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, protected PiV sex, aftercare.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Texas Sun Playlist

You’re late. Not exactly the first impression you were hoping to make on the start of your second week at work. It was sweltering outside, which meant you’d opted for a shorter and thinner dress to begin with, then thrown it off and gone for something more work-appropriate when you remembered the archives were basically like a freezer from the air-conditioning. You said a silent prayer to your beat-up car that it’s feeling generous with you on the drive into the city and will let the aircon work, so you don’t turn up looking like you’d run five miles. 

You grab your keys and your bag and bound out of the door, straight into the back of your dad, who is stood on the porch talking to Joel. 

“Woah, careful there, kiddo,” Your dad murmurs, catching you before you can fall back on your ass, “In a rush?” 

“If I don’t leave in the next thirty seconds, I’ll be late for work,” You explain, steadying yourself on your feet, “Oh, morning Joel.” You shoot over your dad’s shoulder, as if you hadn’t spotted him the second you opened the door. 

“Morning,” He shoots back, giving his signature smile to you, which causes a blush to flush across your cheeks, “You have a good day now.” 

“You too!” You call over your shoulder, unlocking your car and throwing your back in the back seat. 

You settle into the driver’s side and turn your key and groan, because of course the engine is spluttering and refusing to actually switch on. It’s like it can sense you’re in a rush, the one morning you really need it to cooperate with you, it decides it’s had enough. 

“You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me,” You mumble, letting your forehead hit the top of the steering wheel, “I ask one thing and you can’t even do that.” 

A light tapping on the driver’s window makes you jump, but it’s just Joel. You open the door slightly, “You need a ride?” 

“I don’t want you to go out of your way for me,” You mumble, “But yeah, I need a ride.” 

“I’m headin’ into town for some supplies so it’s no trouble at all, sugar,” He speaks quietly so your dad doesn’t catch the new nickname Joel’s got for you, “You hop into my truck, and we’ll get goin’ as soon as I’ve said goodbye to your old man.” 

You’re listening to their conversation as you reach for your bag and heat to the passenger side of Joel’s truck. 

“You make sure you bring the little lady over when she’s back,” Your dad is saying, “I’ll make sure to get the grill going.” 

“I will,” Joel promises, reaching out his hand for your dad to shake it, “I’ll catch you later, old man.” 

Your dad chuckles, “Make sure she pays you for gas, Joel!” He exclaims once Joel has turned around to make his way to his truck, “It’s her own fault for not buying a new car sooner.” 

“Oh, don’t worry,” He shoots a look at you through his open driver’s side window, “I’ll make sure she pays for her ride.” 

You’re stunned into silence for a while as he sits down behind the wheel and makes to pull out of your dad’s driveway. He looks over at you and shrugs with a laugh, “You okay, darlin’?” 

“Are you for real?” You scoff, “You’re a subtle as a brick sometimes, Joel Miller.” 

“I didn’t say anythin’ that wasn’t true.” 

It’s too early in the morning for this, you decide, “What were you doing over here anyway?” 

“Your dad wanted to borrow some tools for somethin’,” He answers, pulling out of your street and onto the main road, “Brought ‘em over before I went to work.” 

You nod in understanding, “And Sarah, she’s back soon, right?” 

He hums in the affirmative, letting his palm rest on your knee, “Back tomorrow evenin’, means it might be harder to see you.” 

You take hold of his hand at your knee, “We always knew that Joel,” You turn and smile at him, “We’ll make it work.” 

It. Whatever it was, you were determined to make it work. In the space of a few weeks, he’d well and truly wormed his way under your skin and settled there, refusing to leave even if you’d wanted him to. Too caught up in how he fucked you and not wanting to cause him to run off into the sunset with your conversations of commitment, you’d skirted round asking what it was that you two were doing exactly. If it meant you could keep him by your side and buried deep inside you, you’d carry on avoiding the conversation too. 

“How about you come to mine after work?” He suggests, “I don’t know, tell ya’ dad you’re going out, I’ll pick you up and I can make the most of you while I still can?” 

You think for a second about how you’ll get that one past your dad. You’d been home straight after work every night last night, staying up only long enough to eat your dinner, before collapsing into bed. And it was a Monday night, who the hell goes out on a Monday night after work? But if this was the last time you were going to get Joel, in his house alone, you were damn sure you were going to do it. 

“Alright,” You agree, giving his hand a squeeze, “Pick me up at six?” 

“I’ll be ready and waiting, sugar.” 

*

“I promise I’ll be sensible dad,” You sigh, shoveling another forkful of salad into your mouth, “It’s just a few drinks, we won’t be that late.” 

“Alright, well, if you need pickin’ up earlier, you just call, okay?” You know he only means well when he goes into protective mode, but you’re twenty-five years old and managed to live in New York City for years without any real incident, “And if your designated driver starts drinkin’ you call me.” 

You feel your phone vibrate against your ear, signaling a text, “I will dad,” You spear another bit of lettuce with your fork, “I gotta go, but I’ll see you later.” 

“See you later, kiddo,” He speaks, “Love you.” 

“Love you too!” 

As soon as you hang up, you’re checking your messages. It’s Joel. He’s a man of few words when it comes to texting, only ever really using it to make plans with you to sneak around somewhere. 

Joel Miller. 

Can’t stop thinking about you. 

You smile at your desk, resting your chin in your palm as you read it over. 

Can’t stop thinking about you either. 

You put your phone back on your desk and finish your lunch. Not only is he a man of few words when it comes to texting, but it usually takes him a good ten minutes to reply. You’ve seen him texting Sarah to the point that it’s actually comical. 

Been thinking of bending you over my kitchen counter, what do you think? 

You almost splutter the mouthful of water you were drinking all over the computer screen in front of you. Was Joel Miller attempting to sext you at work? 

Dangerous thoughts for the middle of the day. But you know I like being bent over just for you. 

This time he does take a few minutes to respond. You like to think you’ve got him flustered on whatever jobsite he’s at today, shoving his phone back into his pocket and taking deep breaths so he can go back to work with a clear head. 

I know you do baby. Gonna fuck you so good later, be feeling me for days. 

That’s not much of a change Joel, I always feel you for days after. 

You grab your phone and the list of documents your manager had given you to pull for the afternoon and head down into the archive itself. You check your phone, thankful there’s enough signal for any more of his messages to come through to you. 

Might not get the chance again for a while, gotta make sure you’re remembering me for as long as possible. 

You scoff a little, as if you’d ever forget. 

Gonna be in for a long night then? 

You start pulling the documents on the list, getting three down before your phone is vibrating again. 

If you can walk outta my house, I’ve not done it properly. 

You can feel the arousal pooling in your lower stomach, goosebumps peppering your skin at the thought of him doing just as he promised. Burying himself deep inside you, pounding his cock into from behind. You can already feel the delicious ache he usually leaves you with. 

I hope that’s a promise, Miller. Now stop distracting me and go back to work. 

His reply, for once, is almost instantaneous.

Yes ma’am. See you at six. 

The rest of the day is a blur. You’re too distracted by Joel’s promises that it takes you far longer than it should to finish pulling all the documents you needed. Then, when your mind wanders to visions of the last time he had you bent over a kitchen island, you have to double check where you’re distributing them to. You’re grateful when, at six o’clock, your colleague Hanna comes up behind you, your bag in her hand, to tell you it’s time to leave. 

“Come on, I’ll walk you out.” She smiles. 

Hanna was close to your age, which was a welcome change to the mostly older women who worked in your team. She was Canadian, moving to Austin after her degree and you’d already become fast work friends. When you exit the building, Joel is stood against the hood of his truck, one ankle folded over the over, with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Who is that?” Hanna enquires when he waves at you. 

“That’s Joel,” You smile, not able to hide the pride that this man was yours, “He’s my…. Well, I actually don’t know what he is, but we fuck.” 

Hanna’s eyes dart between you and Joel, a smirk on her face, “Damn girl, get it.” 

You both break into fits of giggles before you give each other a hug, Hanna heading down to catch the bus to her apartment whilst you practically jog over to Joel’s truck. 

“What’s so funny?” He grumbles, dipping his head to press a soft kiss to your lips. 

“Oh nothing,” You tease, standing on your tiptoes to press another kiss to his lips, “Just happy to see you.” 

You feel his hand trail down your back to grip the globe of your ass through your dress, “You talkin’ about me, pretty girl?” He growls into your ear. 

“Might have been,” You shrug, “Just showing you off, handsome.” 

“Get in the damn truck.” He says with a playful swat to your ass. 

“Yes sir.” You smirk, hopping up into your seat. 

The drive back to his house in thick with tension. He’s got his hand on your leg, much like he had this morning, but this time his fingers are gripping into the meat of your thigh. Whenever it’s safe, his eyes are trailing over your body, dark with wanting. He pulls up outside his house in no time, taking a few moments to look up the street to make sure no-one is going to notice you sneaking in through his front door. 

When the coast is clear, you grab your bag and follow him to the door. He unlocks it and pushes it open, letting you through first. 

“You hungry, Joel?” You call over your shoulder once you’ve thrown your bag next to his couch, “We could order something in?” 

You’re rooting through his fridge for something cold to drink and don’t hear a reply. Gripping the tops of two bottles of beer, you stand back up, “Hey, Joel, did you hear me?!” You yell as you’re closing the fridge door. 

“I heard ya.” He’s standing at the kitchen island, leant on his palms, with those deep, brown eyes trailing over your body. 

“So, are you hungry?” You ask again, flicking the tops off the bottles before placing one down in front of him. 

His eyes drag slowly down your body as he tips his bottle to his lips, “I could eat, yeah.” 

“What are you hungry for?” You question, “We could get pizza, or maybe a Chinese takeout?”

He shakes his head, “Not hungry for those.” He shrugs. 

“Well, what are you hungry for?” 

“You.”

Your eyes widen at his words, “I’m not even really a snack Joel.” 

He’s shifted his position to be leaning on his hip at the end of the island with his hand outstretched to you, “Sugar, you’re so wrong,” He breathes as you take hold of his hand, “You’re a whole damn meal.” 

He’s leading you to the table and gesturing for you to sit on it, “You want me to sit on there?” You ask with a snort, not sure that it’s going to hold your weight. 

“I said I was hungry for ya, didn’t I?” Joel asks with an eyebrow raised, you nod in agreement though, “Well then sit down and let me eat that perfect pussy.” 

He steadies you with wide palms on your hips as you settle your ass on the table. Of course, it holds your weight, because he built it. You remember Sarah gushing over how he’d made it a few years back. 

Joel drops to his knees after he’s pulled the chair away from the table, his hands dragging from your hips to the hem of your dress just above your knees. He’s pushing the fabric up your thighs devastatingly slowly, pressing hot kisses to each inch of new skin he uncovers. You’re leaning back with your palms braced on the wood behind you, soft gasps tumbling from your lips at each touch of his lips to your skin. 

Once he’s shucked as much of the material to bunch at your waist as he can, his hands are back on your hips, this time under your dress, keeping you in place as he drags the same slow trail of kisses back down your other thigh until he reaches your knee. He’s hooking both of your legs over his shoulders, shuffling into you a little more on his knees before you can feel hit hot breath fanning the material of your underwear which is practically sticking to your core from arousal. 

“You gonna be all wet for me, sugar?” He asks, “All that textin’ got you worked up for me?

“What don’t you find out for yourself?” You challenge, feeling your legs shake on his shoulders from the slight chuckle he lets out. 

“Would rather you tell me,” He murmurs, planting a kiss on the skin of your groin, right where the seam of your underwear begins, “Tell me how hot I made ya?” 

“So fucking hot, Joel,” You whimper as he presses a similar kiss to the other side of your underwear, “Couldn’t think straight.” 

He’s gently running his thumb along the seam of your pussy through the cotton covering your core. It’s so featherlight that if you weren’t burning from every nerve ending, you’d probably have missed it, but it’s there, and it has you bucking your hips and begging for more friction. 

“So, if I peeled these off, you’d be soaked for me, right sugar?” 

You gather what sanity is left in your brain, reaching down between your thighs to take his chin in your hand, tilting his face to meet yours, “Why don’t you fuck around and find out, Joel Miller?” 

With his eyes on yours you swear you see something snap behind his brown orbs. His hands are practically ripping the material off your body. They’re thrown over his shoulder and forgotten, just like his need to incessantly tease you when the flat of his tongue licks a wide stripe along the now naked seam of your pussy. A soft sigh leaves your lips as his tongue mimics the movement once more, this time, the tip of his tongue dipping just below your folds to graze your clit, ever so gently. 

You’re widening your thighs, baring your naked cunt to his face. He’s got his hands splayed back on your hips to keep you still, his tongue once against licking a familiar stripe, this time through your folds, stopping to flick the bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue yet again, but this time with more purpose than before, more purpose that to just tease you. This man between your thighs wants to devour you. 

Joel’s hands are spreading your pussy wide, baring your entire core to his mouth as his tongue moves from the precise movements over your clit, down to the weeping entrance. His tongue swirls and gathers the slick that has gathered there. 

“God, you taste so fuckin’ good, sweetheart,” He groans into your core, taking his time to swipe his tongue through the wetness again, “Best damn meal I ever had.” 

“Joel, please,” You beg, letting your fingers run through the dark strands of his hair, “It’s not enough.” 

You can feel his mouth grin into the skin of your pussy, he licks a stripe back up to your clit before focusing on your clit, making short and fast flicks to the bud with the tip of his tongue. Your grind your hips into his face, hands gripping at the back of his head to keep him in place because this is exactly what you needed. The movement of his tongue is precise, switching from short flicks in and up and down motion, to tight circles. It’s enough to have you teetering on the edge but still not enough. You’re shifting your ass to the edge of the table, hoping that bringing his tongue closer to you will help, but it doesn’t.

“Fingers, Joel,” You demand, groaning in frustration when his movements stop altogether, “Please baby, I need it so bad.” 

“All you had to do was ask nicely.” He says, pulling back just enough to give him room to speak before you feel two of his thick fingers pushing inside of you. 

He curls them up into your pussy almost immediately, whilst his lips wrap around your clit. The pressure of him sucking on your clit, teamed with his still precise flicks, and the thrusting of his fingers inside you have you hurtling towards the cliff face of your orgasm in record time. You’re so close you can almost reach out a hand and grab it to pull yourself over the edge. Joel knows it, can feel your pussy clenching and fluttering around his fingers, and the son of a bitch pulls his fingers and mouth from you just before you can come. 

“No!” You exclaimed, looking down at him with wide eyes full of frustration, you’re pulling at his hair to try and get him to put himself back on you, “Nonononono.” You whine in frustration as he stands from his knees. 

He dips down, pressing a kiss wet with your slick to your cheek, bringing his lips to your ear, “Patience sugar,” He chuckles, hands moving to undo his belt, “Promise it’ll feel better if you wait for it.” 

Your chest is heaving, pussy fluttering around nothing as you sit and watch as he sheds his jeans, kicking them backwards to join your underwear on the kitchen floor. Then he’s tugging his t-shirt over his head. If you weren’t so angry with him, you’d be able to appreciate the broad expanse of his chest, the way the muscles of his biceps clenched whenever he moved. All you could focus on was the intense need to chase the high he’d deprived you of. You weren’t even overly bothered when he helps you stand, dragging your dress over your body to meet it on the floor with the rest of his clothes. You’re aware of the fact that he unclips your bra, grateful more than anything that it’s off after a long day. 

Then, Joel is turning you around, placing his warm palm at the nape of your neck and pushing you down to the table. Your palms are resting on the wood in front of you. You turn around and watch as he fishes a condom from his wallet, shucking his boxers off before sheathing himself. 

“Gonna fuck you so good, pretty girl,” He murmurs behind you, using one of his feet to kick gently at your ankle, causing you to widen your stance, “Promised you I would.”

You can feel the head of his cock nudging at your slick entrance before he’s slowly burying himself inside you to the hilt. You let out a whine of satisfaction at the feeling of him filling you. He pulls himself back a little before he’s slamming back into your pussy like he means it this time. He’s pounding into you so hard that your hips are digging into the table in front of you. He’s got one hand gripping the nape of your neck again, keeping you pressed down, the other gripping the meat of your ass. 

“You like that?” He asks, grunting behind you as he pulls out and thrusts back in, “Like it when I fill your pretty pussy like this.” 

Oh God, I really do, is all you can think, but the way his cock is brushing against that perfect spot inside you means you can’t talk, only let a throaty moan drop from your mouth. 

“Fuckin’ you so good you can’t even talk, pretty girl,” Joel chuckles, his point proven when he shifts the angle of his hips slightly and has you crying out when he thrusts back into you, “Gotta remember this, okay?” You nod, “Remember how well I fuck you when I can’t be there.” 

It’s desperate from here on out. He’s rutting into you like a man starved, hips beginning to stutter as he climbs towards his own climax. You think he might actually leave you hanging until the hand that was gripping your ass slips in front of you and begins circling your clit. You almost cry with relief. The circles on your clit are messy but they’re doing their job. You can feel your tight walls clenching around Joel’s cock, can hear that way his moans change when you do. Neither of you are going to last much longer, it’s just a question of who gets there first. 

Just as you think the answer is going to be you, Joel once more pulls his hand from your pussy, and you actually cry. The second time he’s cruelly denied you your release and you’re fed up. He’s always been a giver. Always made sure you finish before he does. But right now, he doesn’t seem to care. Both his hands are gripping your hips, you know there will be bruises of his fingertips there tomorrow. He thrusts into your pussy twice more, maybe three times before he’s stilling inside of you and groaning your name behind you. 

You don’t really think he gives himself enough time before he’s slipping out of you, pulling you up and around to sit you back on the table before he’s once again on his knees with his face buried in your cunt. 

“You wanna come, pretty girl?” He asks, thumbing at your clit gently. 

“Make me come right now Joel Miller,” You demand, tears dripping from the corner of your eyes in frustration, “Before I kill you.” 

His lips circle your clit again and he’s lapping at your pussy like it’s his last meal on earth. His fingers are back inside you, curling again, reaching that sweet spot inside you that has your back arching into him. 

It’s quick and it’s overwhelming when it arrives. Your whole body is convulsing and you’re calling his name out into the emptiness of the room. There’s are dark spots in your vision and the aftershocks are more intense than you’d ever felt before. Joel is slipping his fingers from you but continues pressing light kisses to your clit as you come down from your high. 

He lets you fall back onto the table for a moment as he disposes of the condom, but is back quickly, gathering you up into his arms and walking you to the couch. He lies down and settles you on top of him. He knows that he pushed you tonight, knows that the shaking of your shoulders and the tears in your eyes are because you’re overwhelmed. He runs his fingers through your hair, pressing soft kisses to your forehead whilst you recover. 

“You okay, sugar?” He whispers into your hair as his other hand rubs soothing lines up and down your spine. 

You look up at him, eyes glazed, “I am more than okay, Miller.” You mumble, letting your lips drop to his chest to press a kiss to them. 

He tilts your chin to his face, shuffling a little to capture your lips in his for a tender kiss, he pulls away, leaving barely any space between your lips and his, “Did so well for me,” He praises, “Hopefully that’ll keep you going until I can see you again.” 

You press forward and kiss him again, letting your arms circle his neck, “Seriously now though,” You whisper, gathering your strength, “What do you want to eat, because I’m starving.” 

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

The Hope in the Fault Lines, part 1

Summary: after your sister and her husband are tragically killed, you become the guardian of their daughter, your niece. As you try to pick up the pieces of your life, you become aware that you need help. Desperately. So you hire a nanny. Enter Mingyu, an ex-agent-turned-childcare-professional with a past of his own.

Genre: fluff, heavy themes, (light) smut in later parts (minors DNI)

Warnings: (applies to most of the parts) descriptions of grief, mental illness, disordered eating, instant parenthood, loss of sibling, vehicle-related death, police investigation, child custody court, parental abuse

Word count for pt 1: 4.3k

part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Why aren’t I numb yet? you think to yourself.

Because really, you should be there by now. Hell, you’d even planned to be there by now so you could go back to work. But here you are — standing in your seven-month-old niece’s bedroom, crying along with her, the agony in your chest building like water that slowly heightens to a boil, its persistent, grief-tinged bubbles roiling in time with every pointless beat of your absolutely shattered heart.

You stroke the back of your niece Sara’s head and made soothing noises as well as you could around your own tears. Surely, at some point, she had to stop crying, right? Then maybe you could get back to sleep, which so far has been the only semi-consistent way to forget the grim truth of your reality.

Which was that your sister, Jeri — the proper mother for this fussing thing in your arms — and her husband, Jisung, were dead. That was why you were here, with a child who was missing the same person you were missing but had much less of a vocabulary to express it, so she just cried and cried and cried until you realized she was voicing your own internal monologue. Both of you were hoping that she’d walk in any minute and hold you and make the world stop its incessant spinning for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I’m sorry you only have me. I’m sorry that’s the best I can give you.” You stifle a sob. “I’m sorry that she’s gone. I miss her too.”

Eventually, Sara’s wails quieted, and she slumped against your shoulder, exhausted. You collapsed into the chair in the nursery, exhausted enough to fall asleep immediately, holding Sara in your arms.

You were awakened by the sound of the door opening. Had you forgotten to lock it? You suddenly panic, gently placing Sara’s still-sleeping form into her crib before tiptoeing into the hallway, colliding with your best friend, Bora.

“Did I not lock the door?” you blurt in shock.

She looks you up and down. “No, you did,” she reassures, her worried look intensifying. “I’ve had a key for five years.”

You deflate in relief. “Right,” you say aimlessly, looking at her. “Okay. Um…coffee?”

“Girl, I should be making you coffee,” Bora said. She put a hand to your forehead. “You’re ill, sweetheart.”

You blink at her. “I am?”

“Undoubtedly,” she confirms, leading you back to your bedroom. “Don’t worry about Sara. I’ll be here all day, so you just rest, okay?” She nearly pushes you onto your bed, and pulls a blanket off the floor to tuck around you.

You take stock of yourself. Head aching -- that wasn’t new. Eyes dry and puffy -- same as always. No, the only difference you could tell from last night is a hollow, cavernous emptiness in your chest where the clawing agony used to sit. Right on cue, the numbness has begun to engulf you.

You pass the day in a haze, only briefly aware of the activities of Sara, who at seven months old is only fussy around strangers when it gets dark, and your friend. You simply lay there in bed, not sleeping despite your tiredness, not even able to muster up the energy to reach for the food Bora brings you at midday. In fact, the sun is setting before you’re able to become conscious, sitting up and rubbing at your stinging eyes as Bora comes in to check on you.

“What about Morrie and Cal?” you ask her, referencing Bora’s own daughter Morna and her husband Calvin. “Did you really leave them all day?”

Bora nodded. “Yeah, Cal’s got it. Which is what I wanted to talk to you about.” She brushes your hair out of your face in a motherly way. “You need help here.”

“I’m not getting married anytime soon, Bo,” you say dryly.

“I’m not talking about marriage,” she says. “I’m talking about a nanny.”

You bite your lip. “Are you saying I’m bad at motherhood?” you ask, and if you could sound hurt through all the nothingness you feel, you’re sure you would.

“No,” Bora says gently. “I’m saying you didn’t bargain for motherhood on top of dealing with your grief, and you still have a whole life ahead of you that needs your attention, outside of this apartment. You have a job you love that you really need to get back to -- for you, sweetheart, not for the company, because I know that the work you do makes you happy. You need more time like that, more time for you. I know there’s a big difference in the circumstances, but when I became a mother, having Cal as a partner made it really easy for me to do things outside of the house that gave me purpose. It really helped me get a handle on myself outside of motherhood so that I could maintain a healthy relationship with Morrie without resenting her or losing myself. And honestly, you need that. We all do. And since marriage isn’t the move right now, and you have the means, a nanny might be the best possible thing for you.”

You nod slowly. “So they’d just come watch Sara while I’m at work?”

She nods. “They can be here as much or as little as you want.”

“Okay. How do I make sure they’re not a child snatcher or a pervert?”

Bora snorts. “Well, I’d recommend interviewing them so that your spidey-senses can alert you to any potential creeps,” she advises.

“I’m tired just thinking about that,” you groan. The phone begins to ring, and you check the ID — it’s your head editor, Cory.

You answer. “Hey,” you say, trying not to sound as dead inside as you are. “What’s up?”

“How are you doing?” he asks, his tone hesitant. This was one of the worst parts of tragedy, you thought to yourself: the awkwardness. Suddenly there was no comfort anywhere. Nobody knew what to say to you, or how to address the event, so everyone skated around it and you in a cautious dance of embarrassment and pity. Part of you wishes someone would just acknowledge it -- “so, your sister is dead,” and then move on.

“I’m fine,” you lie. “I should be back to work...soon. I just need to find a nanny for my niece.”

“Oh, that’s...that’s good,” Cory says, sounding surprised. “I wasn’t actually calling about that, I was actually just...worried about you.”

You sigh. “Everybody is, Cory. But I’ll pull through this. I always do.”

“I know,” he says, “and I trust that you will. I just...wanted you to know that we’re -- that I’m thinking of you.”

You try to feel curious about his choice of words, but can’t muster the energy to care that much. “Thanks, Cory,” you say. “I’ll let you know if I need anything.” Another lie, but the last one you feel compelled to tell him. “Bye.”

Bora is looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “He seems friendly,” she says, and through the haze that seems to coat your brain you know she’s making an implication.

This is yet another thing you don’t have the energy to address right now, so you don’t. “So, I need to interview nannies.”

“Well, you could also have your assistant do it,” Bora offers. “She’d lay on train tracks for you. I’m sure she’d do a good job.”

The corner of your mouth twitches as you think of making Emily, your eager assistant, vet nannies for Sara. She was young and enthusiastic and proactive, and she’d do a great job. “I think that’s a good idea,” you say. “Thanks, Bora. I know I haven’t been -- well, I know you have better things to do than worry about me, and I’m s--”

“Don’t you dare finish that thought,” she says, holding her manicured hand up to silence you. “You have people around you who care about and love you. Me included. This is the time where you need to lean on those people. And we all want that.”

“Thank you,” you say again.

“Eat,” she says sternly. “I need to get home, but I refuse to leave Sara with you until you’ve got food in your body.”

You wrinkle your nose at the idea of putting something in your mouth and chewing, but you realize that Bora’s made you some kind of thick, creamy soup that requires nothing but small sips. It’s easy to eat, and before you know it, despite not really tasting it as it passed through your lips, you’ve finished the bowl. Bora nods approvingly, leaning in and kissing your forehead before standing up to leave. “I love you, sweetheart,” she says. “Call me in the morning, okay?”

And with that, she leaves.

***

Six days later, you’re somewhere that you never expected to be at this point -- at dinner with your friend Gwen and her husband, Chan. Bora had showed up, instructed you to get ready, and taken Sara home with her as the couple had showed up at your front door. “You need a night out,” she insisted as you halfheartedly protested.

You had taken her advice and asked Emily to start interviewing nannies, but so far, her search for someone who could be there during your required time period and had the right background checks and qualifications had come up with very few results. This was a bit disheartening, but you hadn’t really given up yet, hoping someone would pull through for you. If you believed in God at this point, you’d probably pray for it.

These are the thoughts that are consuming you at dinner with your friends, when you’re supposed to be listening to them talk. They, gratefully, are a comforting pair, who make a point not to look at you with the customary pity. Instead, they ask about work and Sara and even about your thoughts on how the funeral had gone, which is kind of a relief -- none of that timid skirting around the big, ugly elephant in the room. Maybe this openness they’ve pulled out of you is the reason you feel you can speak to them about your current issue. “Actually, I’m trying to get back to work,” you say. “Those bills aren’t going to pay themselves. The only issue is, I need to find a nanny for Sara, but my assistant has been having trouble finding someone who fits the bill,” you explain, picking at the food in front of you.

To your surprise, Chan’s eyes light up. “I might know a guy. He used to work with me, and he just moved back here after awhile.”

You stare at him. “Chan, aren’t you a federal officer?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says.

“Why would a federal agent want to work as my nanny?” you ask him.

“Former federal agent,” he corrects you. “Turned nanny.”

“You know someone who quit being a secret agent to become a child-care worker?” you say in disbelief.

Gwen nods. “Actually, he’s really good. The family he was just with fell on some hard times, which is why he’s back now, but I think he might be looking for a new gig.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “You got the contact information for this guy?” you ask Chan.

“Yeah. His name’s Mingyu. I’ll forward the info on to Emily.”

“Thanks,” you say. “Really, Chan.” You allow yourself to hope for a moment, which provides just the right amount of energy to finish dinner and make your way back home. Once you’re inside your wreck of an apartment, which hasn’t been really cleaned since the accident, you lean heavily against the door, releasing a big breath.

You head to Sara’s room before realizing she’s still at Bora’s house. You text her that you’re home, and before you know it, Bora is handing a sleeping Sara back into your arms.

“She was really good today,” Bora whispers. “How was dinner?”

“It was...okay,” you say, and for the first time, you’re honest. For some reason, you feel like this Mingyu person is the one who’s going to stick, and that leaves you with a modicum of relief. A change is coming, and this one feels like it’s bound to be better than whatever you’re trying to do now. Bora leaves, and you go to the nursery -- the one room that’s intact and clean -- and sink into the rocking chair with Sara.

“Sometime soon, we’re going to have someone to help us out, Sara,” you promise. “I know this isn’t the life your parents probably imagined for you, but I’m going to try and give you something close to what they wanted you to have. I mean that.”

Slowly, you pull her off your shoulder to look at her cherubic little face -- at the black curls that surround her face, her long eyelashes fluttering in sleep. She’s a darling baby, but what you notice is something that penetrates through the cloud of numbness: she’s smiling, her little dimples so reminiscent of --

“Jeri,” you breathe, and a rush of warmth hits you right in your chest for a moment before it’s once again extinguished by your grief, like a flaming arrow shot into a dark, black lake. You suppose, as you hold her close to you once again, that in a way, Sara has immortalized your sister.

You fall asleep holding Sara, who for the first time since she became yours sleeps through the night.

***

You’re standing in your sweatpants, braless, your hair thrown haphazardly on top of your head, feeding Sarah some baby food as she babbles happily in her high chair, when the doorbell rings. You check your watch in disbelief -- it’s seven in the morning, which is the time you had asked Mingyu to show up for his first day of work. You’d never met him in person, although you had talked to him on the phone, and you’d wanted to make a good first impression. But then Sara had had a blowout, and you’d had to change your own sheets because she’d slept in your bed with you, and then you’d had to bathe her (it was that bad), and you were finally getting to feed Sara. You hadn’t even eaten yet, and you’d planned to be fully ready and put together by the time he arrived.

But there was no postponing this -- you couldn’t just let him rot on your porch. So you head for the door, praying Sara won’t throw the spoon on the floor as she has been wont to do recently, and look through the peephole. When you see him, the only thing you can do is whisper “shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.”

Because how could Emily not have told you that the man was beautiful?

And he isn’t beautiful in like, your everyday way either. The man on your porch is tall, probably dwarfing you by both head and shoulders, with a broad chest that pulled at the simple black tee he wears and arms that the pre-accident you would have swooned over. His hair is cropped short like a fed, and he is dressed practically, and yet, he was a god. There was no other way around it. You look down at yourself -- stained t-shirt, sweats with holes in embarrassing places, hair in disarray -- and shrug. There’s nothing you can do but pull the door open. “Hi,” you say. “Mr. Kim?”

“Yeah,” he replies, and he doesn’t seem to register your haggard appearance, just smiles. “I’m guessing you’re --”

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Um, please come in.”

He does, carefully removing his tennis shoes and stepping into the entryway. “Sara’s in the kitchen. Probably throwing stuff.”

He chuckles. “She’s seven months?”

“Yeah,” you say.

“They do that,” he says conspiratorially.

It has taken you very little time to realize you might be in trouble. Mingyu’s smile is open and warm, his eyes full of life. He is nothing like the gruff, stern former agent that you were picturing in your head. You watch him crouch to greet Sara, whose face lights up at his friendly wave. “Hi, Sara,” he says, brushing a bit of blended squash off her nose. “You’re a cutie, that’s for sure.”

“I’m so sorry for the mess,” you can’t help but say. “It’s...it’s been insane.”

He looks up at you. “I get it. Your assistant kind of explained the situation. How are you holding up?” he asks.

You scratch the back of your head. “Well, Sara’s still alive, and that’s pretty much the extent of my current goals, so I guess we’re doing pretty well, all things considered.”

He nods sympathetically. “Honestly, great job. Becoming an instant parent can’t be easy.”

“I actually need to be at work at 8:30,” you suddenly realize. “Can I show you around? I’ll have to dash right afterward.”

“Yeah, sure,” he says, following you down the hall.

“This is the guest room,” you say. “It hasn’t been touched for a minute, but this is where you’ll sleep if we ever need you to stay overnight. I occasionally have business trips.” You lead him further down the hall and up the short staircase, opening the door to the nursery. “Right there is the bathroom. This is Sara’s room, so when she goes down for naps, this is where you can put her.”

You look at him, and his face is thoughtful as you point down the hall. “Door at the end is my bedroom,” you say, remembering what an absolute disaster it is. A blush rises in your cheek. “And please,” you say, going back down the stairs. “You can make yourself at home. Feel free to use the TV while Sara’s napping, or eat what’s in the fridge or pantry if you’re hungry.”

“Okay,” he agrees.

You pull out your wallet and hand him a card. “This one is for you. If you ever feel like eating anything or going somewhere with Sara, you can use this. I opened it for you specifically -- I figured it’d be easier than reimbursing you.”

He pockets it. “Sounds good,” he says.

You stand there, feeling awkward. “Well, I think that was all.”

He nods. “Go get ready,” he says reassuringly. “If I need something or have any questions, I’ll shoot you a text. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” you say in relief. “Thanks.”

You nearly sprint upstairs and jump in the shower. It takes you two minutes to do everything you need to do -- you’ve been taking micro-showers since you took Sara in, terrified that something would happen to her in your absence. Watching the time, you blow your hair dry, apply simple makeup, and change into a comfortable pair of black slacks and a white button-up. You arrive downstairs to see Mingyu at the sink with Sara, having sat her in the crook of his arm so he can wash her sticky face.

The sight of them warms your heart. “Okay, I’ve gotta dash,” you say. “Please, reach out to me if you need anything.”

He smiles. “I will. Drive safe.”

“Okay,” you say, bounding out the door and into your car.

The office hushes a bit when you walk in. They knew you were coming back today, but it must be surreal after the three months you’ve been gone, especially when this is your magazine -- you’re the only person at the company who’s been there since the beginning, because you started it. Cory is quick to hop to your side. “Hi, boss,” he greets. The rest of the office goes back to their activities as you enter your large, glass-paneled office.

“Hi, Cory,” you say. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he says, seemingly lost for any other words. “It’s good to have you back.”

“Thanks,” you say. “So, update me. Where are we at with the Serena Williams feature?”

“She was super understanding, and the publishers were too,” he says. “Ruby wrote a great piece, though, so as soon as we’ve got the green light we’ll start the launch. I’ve got Jojo on the social media build, and she’s got a two-on-one scheduled with us later to go over it.”

You nod in approval. “Okay, sounds good. I’m gonna contact Park Seojun’s agent today, so I’d like a list of writers you think could write that story well before our meeting with Jojo. I’m thinking we use someone in-house, but I’m open to contracting out if you’re worried people in the office already have too much to do.”

Cory gives you a thumbs up. “Got it,” he says, heading back to his desk.

You breathe in your office air, feeling some of the tension in your shoulders dissolve. You can’t say you’re happy, per se -- but you aren’t as empty as you have been. Bora had been right -- getting back to work is going to be good for you.

***

Toward the end of the day, though, you begin feeling a strange pull -- a pull toward home. You know Mingyu and Sara have been fine, because Mingyu has been texting you periodically throughout the day:

9:49

MG: hey, we’re out of wet wipes over here. do you have any extra boxes?

You: yeah they’re in your bathroom under the sink!

MG: okay I should’ve thought to check there, thanks! You saved my life haha

You: no worries! Is everything ok?

MG: yeah its good, no need to stress. Sara just needs a diaper change.

You: ok, sounds good! Thanks!

11:30

MG: sara reeeeeeeeeeeally likes pears

You: oh yeah they’re her favorite lol

He’d sent you a video of Sara screeching with joy as he put a spoonful of pear mush into her mouth.

MG: like i’ve never seen anyone so enthusiastic about pears

You: i love it when she screams at her food, that’s the best

MG: me too its so cute haha

1:43

MG: ok i forgot to ask

MG: how long are her naps supposed to be

You: tbh I usually let her sleep an hour or so...i should probably do research on what’s developmentally appropriate

MG: lmao nah i gotchu

Then a few minutes later:

1:52

MG: so apparently huckleberrycare.com suggests 2-3 hours of daytime sleep for kids sara’s age

You: damn, that’s a long time

You: well, i guess let her sleep? She might not stay down that long, but we can adjust her routine a bit to try and get her there

MG: sounds good. Is she a light sleeper? She’s on me rn and i don’t want to wake her up if i move her

You: oh no you can totally put her in her crib lol she won’t wake up

MG: ok thanks haha my arm was kind of going numb bc i was too scared to change positions lmao

You: hahaha yes you’re totally fine to put her in as soon as she goes to sleep usually

MG: great to know, thanks lol

And more throughout the day, littered with photos of Sara in varying states of ridiculousness. You found yourself actually smiling as each text rolled in, grateful for the updates, knowing you would’ve felt a lot more anxious if you hadn’t heard anything.

Still, you didn’t want to keep Mingyu waiting too long. He was supposed to get off at 6, and you wanted to make sure he didn’t feel like you were taking advantage of him. So you left work earlier than normal, beating the rush hour traffic and coming through the door to see Mingyu playing with your niece on the floor. He looks up at you as you come in and waves you over. “She rolled over just barely,” he whispers excitedly. “Watch!”

Sara struggles, whining a little bit, before rolling from her stomach to her back. You clap excitedly, lifting her from the floor into your arms and kissing her pudgy cheek. “Good job, Sara!” you coo, and she burbles happily, touching your face with a fat hand.

Suddenly, you notice something -- the house is clean.

“Mr. Kim,” you say slowly, “did you clean my house?”

He suddenly looks sheepish. “Uh, yeah, I did,” he says. “I’m sorry if that was...I don’t know, not my place.”

“Are you apologizing for cleaning?” you ask him, amused. “I feel bad you felt the need to do that! I shouldn’t have -- have let it get so bad.”

He gives you an extremely gentle look that you are sure he didn’t intend to make your knees go weak. “You’ve been through a lot recently,” he says. “I think you should be kinder to yourself. Also, there was a time when I was in college and living with roommates, and it was way worse cleaning up after some of them.”

“Well, at least there’s that,” you say, returning his smile with Sara propped on your hip.

You stare at him for a minute, and then shake yourself. “Well, I’m here now, so I guess you can...go?” You make a face at your phrasing. “I’m not trying to kick you out. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to stay past your hours.”

He chuckles. “It’s okay. I get you. Have a good night.” He heads for the door, calling over his shoulder. “Actually, I made some fried rice this afternoon. The leftovers are in the fridge. Help yourself.”

Your jaw drops. “Wait a minute, Mr. Kim,” you call after him, following him on his way out.

He turns around, smiling at your tone. “You can call me Mingyu,” he offers.

You nod. “Okay, Mingyu. You cooked, cleaned, and took care of Sara while I was at work?”

“Yeah,” he says, a laugh in his voice. “Is that so odd?”

“I never managed to do all three in one day,” you admit ashamedly.

“Well, I’m not mourning the loss of my sister,” he reminds you, and his voice is a bit stern. “That kind of thing takes a lot of energy.” He rests a big hand on your shoulder comfortingly before opening the door. “See you tomorrow.”

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

Okay, I'll continue talking! So as we all know, RC9GN frequently involves characters being turned into rampaging monsters through no real fault of their own. And then there's Evil Julian, who was a whole thing. What I'm saying is, the Ninja cast are not strangers to the idea of people being forced into evil the way Chase was... but I don't think Chase goes around telling people about his tragic backstory unless he's trying to make a point. So, like, do any of them know Chase is technically under the influence of a mind-altering substance? That he didn't want to be like this, he just didn't want his best friend to leave him behind? Under what circumstances might the First Ninja find out? Under what circumstances might Randy find out?

Of course, what happened to Chase is definitely not the same thing as what happens to people under the Sorcerer's influence. For one, it's a lot more permanent. It's pretty clear in Xiaolin Showdown that Chase is too far gone and can't be cured at this point, if he ever could have been. The only way to stop him from ending a haughty, self-centered dragon would be to stop him from drinking the soup to begin with. And he's still himself on some level. As you said, he still has honor, he can still care, he's still capable of independent rational thought. It seems less like possession and more like very targeted (evil) brain damage. At the same time, this does mean it's technically possible for Chase to turn his back on what he's become. He may never be who he was again, but he can still change, as Omi believes he can. Though jury's out if he believes he can change. Anyway, there's a lot of drama to be wrung out of this, especially if the First Ninja realizes he probably would have liked the man Chase used to be.

Also, I'm just saying, the First Ninja denying that he chained up his evil husband to stop Chase from hurting people while he searches for a cure to the curse that makes Chase evil would be very funny.

OKAY OW HANG ON LISTEN The idea of First deciding to chain up Chase not just because he is an evil menace, but also in order to find a cure for his transformation, hit me so unexpectedly hard in the feels, like FR DUDE???? OW???

(Even if it is a bit of funny mental image AND the wording 'targeted evil brain damage' made me snort so hard, oh my god im so sorry.)

There is an argument/theory about how technically Chase doesn't need to constantly drink the Soup (based on how in alternative future, captured by Jack, Chase didn't drink it in captivity, and as soon as he was released he was kinda bordering on 'feral' lizard mode - Soup helps him keep in control AND keep ahold of his human form, rather that he is absolutely dependant on it), but he does it because he is, well, basically addicted to it.

SO it would be more of First chaining his Evil Brain Damaged Addict of (totally not a) Husband in order for to find a most likely nonexisting cure to his cursed (????) transformation. The ANGST POTENTIAL of it.

And your first points are so interesting and absolutely valid! Chase's situation can be compared to Stank-ification, but you know what would make an even more interesting comparison? The Sorcerer himself.

I think we often forget that technically, Sorcerer situation is him being separated from his humanity and twisted into an immortal monster by Chaos Pearls, because he - as the Peddler - made one decision, one mistake, after being seduced by power greater than him. Sounds familiar doesn't it?

Of course there are a few key differences here:

Sorcerer is literally separated with his human self (soul perhaps??) that is trapped in Land of Shadows, while Chase's humanity seems to have been surpressed and/or muted by his Draconic Self. (or perhaps stolen with his soul by Hannibal, which is a popular theory about how exactly Roy Bean/Soup turned Chase.)

Chase's change is permanent. While Sorcerer situation is possible to fix - it literally happens in the finale.

BUT!!! no one actually knew it was possible to fix before. At least no one gave any indication that it was a known fact about Sorcerer's humanity still existing somewhere in Chaos Realm/Land of Shadows.

I'm pretty sure First/Norisu Clan believed that the Sorcerer was a human changed and twisted into an immortal by chaos. Impossible to kill and impossible to return to normal - that's why he was imprisoned. To keep him contained.

I mean, couldn't First Ninja, after capturing The Sorcerer, try to get his human self from the Land of Shadows himself, if he knew? After all he had access to a Chaos Ball! But he didn't know there was anything to be recovered, that the Sorcerer could be actually unmade just by reuniting him with his human half.

(At least thats my personal HC, but im pretty sure the canon show just retconned/fumbled a bit the whole Sorcerer resolution lol.)

SO just imagine. First learns about Chase's past. And he is freaking aghast. Here is another twisted by evil, but while he and his brothers failed to save those changed that they first encountered (the 'killed first stanked monsters' theory tie in!), they managed to save those that came after. And if First could, he would have tried to save The Sorcerer, no matter how much he hates him. But... Chase is different. There is still something of humanity left in him. Perhaps he can save Chase.

And from Chase's pov? He sees how Ninja saved Stanked people, and he doesn't even consider those situations as similar to his. Sure, people are turned into monsters, but he was turned into a monster by his own choice, there is nothing to save him from. (Isn't there?)

But he watches as First releases those people from the clutches of chaos, watches as he tries so hard to save them... And maybe it makes him yearn, that someone tried just a little bit harder to save the 'him' before he made that choice.

And if First cages Chase and says: "I want to help you. To Cure you." It will certainly enrage Chase - because who does this man think he is, tryin to contain and cure THE Heylin Prince of Darkness, like he is some halpless trapped commoner??? He came to be long before this man's Clan existed and he will be there long after this man will become dust.

But also... maybe deep deep deep inside, Chase is... confused? and pleased? - that someone like Fist Ninja grew to care enough for him to try and save him, even if there is nothing to be saved.

So they would be at this standstill, where First is trying to help a cause that isnt quite possible to fix, and Chase is... well, being Chase.

But, yeah, certainly another amazing thought process from you Anon <3, I've been trying to answer this ask for so long, because every time i start to write i get overcome with emotions about those scenarios like...damn. It's funny, but also the possible drama of all of this... hnnnfgggg

[vintagestarlight]

Couple's Trip

Summary: you and John take a trip for your anniversary and John has a very special question to ask

Pairing: John Price x gf!reader

Words:~ 2.0k

Warnings: fluff, tiny bit of angst(?), smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it folks :3), MDNI!!

A/N: so this has been sitting in my drafts for months and I finally finished it! Probably the longest fic I’ve written and I’m not sure how I feel about it(I feel like I’m better at writing fluff pieces rather than spicy ones maybe?)but let me know what yall think! I’m working on another Price fic and a Soap fic so stay tuned! :)

A/N: As always likes, reblogs, comments, and feedback of all types are welcome and my inbox is always open! Hope you guys enjoy!!

***beware of typos lol

Your mind wandered as you zipped your suitcase shut. John announced you were taking a trip for your anniversary and refused to tell you where. "You'll find out when we get there love," he said with a laugh after you pestered him to tell you. You walked downstairs and set your suitcase by the front door.

Through no fault of his own John wasn't always around for your anniversary. He always tried his best to to have his leave coincide but it didn't always happen. Usually you just had a nice dinner at home or John would surprise you with flowers; both of which you enjoyed. Needless to say you were shocked but excited when John told you he had a few weeks leave and had something big planned.

"Hey hon, remember to pack your toothbrush this time," you said, doublechecking to make sure you had everything. "You forget it every time," you mused. "I'm not going to forget my toothbrush dove. And I don't forget it every time," Price argued; he checked his suitcase and realized he forgot. He went to the bathroom and grabbed his toothbrush to pack it away without telling you.

"Are you ready love?" Price asked. "I want to get going," You noticed your boyfriend seemed to be acting weird. He was very fidgety and it wasn't like him at all.

"You okay?" You asked. "You seem anxious to get going,"

"Yeah I'm fine love I just want to get there before dark," Price replied, taking the luggage outside. He loaded the suitcases into the back of the car and slipped his hand in his pocket. His fingers brushed against the velvet box resting in his pocket. "Well if we want to get there before dark we should get going," you called out and shut the door behind you, locking up the house.

You noticed the scenery started to change from hilly landscapes to dense woods. You started to get excited about what was at the end of your little road trip. The car turned on to a cobblestone stone driveway that led to a beautiful cabin overlooking a private lake surrounded by trees. "Oh John this is beautiful!" You said, looking out the window. "How did you know about this?" You asked. "An old mate of mine offered to let us use it for the week," he smiled watching you try and take it all in.

"This whole place is for us?" You asked, wondering if you could possibly see everything in just a few days. Price squeezed your thigh. "Just us," he said, parking the car. "Here love," Price stated. He fished in his pocket pulling out a set of keys. "Here's the keys to the cabin. Why don't you go take a look around, while I unload the car" he suggested.

You smiled and took the keys from him walking up to the front steps. You unlocked the front door and stepped inside. The living room was decorated in a way you would expect a cabin to be decorated. A large sofa facing a tv mounted on the wall, a large red rug in the middle of the floor, an end table with a lamp beside the couch, a tv stand, large fireplace, and a chandelier made from antlers adorned the living room. There was also a full kitchen to your right when you walked in.

You made your way to the stairs and found the master bedroom. A king size bed was the centerpiece of the room with a wool blanket draped over the end. The curtains were drawn and a soft light emanated from a lamp sitting on a bedside table.

Your footsteps were hushed by the soft carpet as you walked to the bathroom. The master bathroom was beautifully decorated in finished wood and white accents with a big claw foot tub; definitely big enough for both you and John. A window that faced the lake and woods let in a nice breeze and you couldn't help smiling, the fact it was yours for a few days finally setting in.

You came down the stairs just as John set down the last of your luggage. "So? What do you think?" Price asked, smiling as you wrapped your arms around him. "It's perfect John!” you smiled. "It's so beautiful," you planted a kiss on his lips.

Over the next few days the ring Price carried around burned a hole in his pocket. He tried finding the right time to ask you but everytime he tried he got nervous. He was the Captain of the most elite special forces team in the world and he couldn't even ask you to marry him. He sat at the edge of the dock, his fishing pole in his hands. He looked at the water waiting for a fish to bite and thinking about how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. If only I could just ask her. With a frustrated sigh, he got up to stretch his legs still holding the fishing pole.

These few days seemed like a dream to you. Getting to spend this time with John was something you didn't always get to have. You noticed your boyfriend's behavior was somewhat off. He was anxious and fidgety when he's normally the calm and self-assured one in the relationship. You saw him sitting at the dock fishing and you smiled to yourself. His behavior may have changed but him fishing certainly hadn't.

You opened the front door and started walking down the cobblestone path the sweet air warming your skin. You saw little firefly's glowing in the garden flying around. "Have you caught anything yet?" You asked, siting down in a lawn chair with him standing holding his fishing pole. John glanced over and saw you wearing one of his army green t shirts and a pair of sleep shorts; he felt his heart skip a beat and his cock swell embarassingly hard despite the spirited romp in the sheets a mere few hours prior. For some strange reason, it made his thoughts drift back to the little box still tucked away in his pocket; he carried it with him everywhere since they got here. He still couldn’t believe he had trouble asking you a simple four-worded question. It was almost laughable that something so simple had the Captain racked with anxiety. The man who was feared just as much as he was respected in the field. What if you said no? What if you didn’t actually love him and this was the push you needed to leave him? He grimaced as his thoughts got more and more out of control.

“No I think I missed most of them,” he muttered and turned his attention back to the water. You furrowed your eyebrows; something was up with your boyfriend. Not much fazed the 6’2” Brit so to see him so lost in thought worried you. You got to your feet and wrapped your arms around your lover; your hands dipped underneath the shirt he was wearing and felt the dusting of wiry chest hair. You ran your fingers down the strong expanse of his chest and abdomen following the happy trail that disappears into his waistband. “What’s wrong hon?” You asked. “Nothing is wrong I’m fine love,” He grumbled. “You’ve been acting strange for the past few days and that isn’t like you,” You persisted. "I want to know what’s bothering you. You know you can tell me anything right?” You reassured him. John shifted his attention from the still water to you and tried to think of what to say.

“Do you…still love me?” He asked with uncertainty. “Would I have let you put me in those positions if I didn’t?” You teased, referencing the previous bedroom escapades. Seeing his face didn’t change, you realized he was serious. “Of course I do. Why would you think I don’t?” You asked. “Well…sometimes I can’t help but think you’ll wake up one day and come to your senses and leave me for someone who actually deserves you,” He sighed. It felt foreign to him to talk about his feelings but you made him feel safe enough that he could. You always brought out the best of him and it was one of the many reasons he wanted to marry you. “John Price, I am never going to leave you,” You told him, placing your hands on his muttonchops, framing his face. You hated it when he talked so badly about himself. “I love you so much and you deserve everything,” You said, gazing up at him. “Even if I am a grumpy old man?” He asked. “Yes even though you’re a grumpy old man,” you teased. “Hey! Easy now,” He said in mock annoyance. You placed your lips on his, capturing him in a heated kiss. You felt him kiss you back and the tension from his shoulders melted away. He groaned and pressed your bodies together, reaching down to grab a handful of your ass. He chuckled quietly when you whined as he pulled away. “In that case, there’s something I need to ask you,” He slipped his hand into his pocket while dropping down onto one knee. It’s now or never Price. He told himself. Your eyes went wide and filled with tears as you realized what was happening. “Y/N, will you marry me?” He asked, hoping, no silently begging, for you to say yes. “Yes! Yes I’ll marry you John Price,” you cried.

******

“FUCK!” You screamed. The headboard practically hit the wall with each harsh thrust from John. The room was filled with obscene yet erotic sound of panting and skin slapping against skin. “Fuck you’re taking me so well love,” John panted out, taking a glance down to where your cunt practically swallowed his cock. The sight drove him mad and he let out sounds he didn’t know he had in him. Those sounds he was making, the breathy groans and whimpers almost made you come then and there. “Fuck John!” You panted, feeling yourself get closer with every snap of John’s hips that hit perfectly inside you. John could feel you squeezing him like a vice and he knew you were close to coming. He grabbed the head board and pushed your legs to your chest to better plow into you and get as deep as he could into your pulsing cunt. “That’s it love,” He breathed out, his pace unrelenting. “Come for me love, come for me,”. John’s voice sounded strained as he focused on making you come before he did. You keened as you felt yourself go over the edge, coming on John’s cock. You squeezed him so tightly he swore he saw stars and came deep inside you, thick ropes of white staining the inside of your cunt. John rested his forehead against yours, strands of his hair sticking to the sweaty skin. You felt the sheer sheen of perspiration that had covered your own body begin to dry and cool off the longer the two of you stayed in each other’s embrace. "You okay love?” He asked, still out of breath as you both waited for your heart rates to slow. “More than okay,” you smiled lazily. Price gingerly pulled out his softened cock and walked to the bathroom, you admiring his bare ass as he walked away. John used a warm wash cloth to gently clean you up before grabbing a celebratory cigar and lighting it. You watched and admired his naked body as he poured himself a glass of scotch from the decanter sitting on the small table in the room before sliding back into bed with you.

You and John lay slightly tangled in the sheets with your head resting on his chest and his arm around you, relishing in that wonderful, hazy post sex daze. You couldn’t help but stare at the ring on your finger and smile; John was your fiancée and you could hardly believe it. “Careful now or I’ll think you love the ring more than me,” John’s deep baritone voice reverberating in his chest. “Well the ring is pretty great. And all I have is an old man,” you teased, looking up at him knowing he just proved himself to be anything but an old man. Your remark earned you a playful pinch on your ass. You squealed and laughed, swatting his chest playfully.

“Don’t worry Mr. Price I only have eyes for you my love,” You said, planting a kiss on his lips. "I love you,"

“I love you too soon-to-be Mrs. Price,”

[lains-reality]

Once a young woman came to Hafiz and said, “What is the sign of someone knowing God?” And Hafiz became very quiet and stood in silence for nearly a minute. Lovingly looking deep into the young woman's eyes, he then softly spoke: “My dear, they have dropped the knife. The person who knows God has dropped the cruel knife so often used upon their tender self and others.”[source]

please give yourself the grace of forgetting, of being sad, of failing, of fearing. you are allowed to. all is Self. you are okay now and here.

allow yourself to look at the insecurities, shame, guilt and fears.

give yourself the chance to respond, not react.

let vanessa be. vanessa is just a person like anyone else. thinks they are born and will die. every vanessa, no matter how well off they are, is scared shitless. but you treat your vanessa so badly.

you hate it. you want it gone. you see the body and mind as a cage without a key. it hurts. you curse it and nothing changes. you try to convince it and nothing changes. you curse it more.

It is not a matter of enduring, it is a matter of you being so crude to Vanessa, and expecting so much of her when she has no power. Do you feel the same way about the homeless man on the street corner? Do you constantly chastise him in your head, blame him for his circumstances? Even if you are the kind of person to judge based on appearances, you do for a moment and move on with your life. That's because you never thought he was you so how could you feel pain on his behalf? You may do the opposite and feel bad for his situation for a bit, but you still leave the matter alone as he's none of your business and you have your own things to worry about. - post source

vanessa is doing the best it can. it sings, dances, loves! it bleeds, it shudders, it hurts. all is the wide expression of Self.

and yet you hide from the pain, from the hurt, from the thoughts, the feelings. this is not the fullness of Self.

forgive yourself. let go of the shame and guilt. stop shaming vanessa for exsiting just like any other person in the street. stop carrying all responsibilities of the world. it's already taken care of.

you breathe with no help, you shit with no help, you eat with no help, you sleep with no help. and even if you do need help, the inability to do so, happens without your help. your amazon package comes through, your sibling grows 2 cm, the sun rises and falls, the seasons pass by. all by itself. what's orchestrating it all? Self. what other reason have we given ourself the world, other than out of love?

Leave poor Vanessa alone and stop assigning her the responsibility and accountability of everything that the dream shows. The entire dream is all an expression of the Infinite Being, not hers (the ego) which she is just one more creation of. And it doesn't have to be your (the Self's/I AM's) dream anymore when you stop identifying with it. - post source

its already out of vanessa's hands. vanessa can't do anything. let that be a celebration: all is taken care of. unconditonally.

"why is it all taken care of?"

"why not!"

"but why should *i* get the world?"

"why not?"

"but-"

its already all here for you. its already as it is. what is vanessa gonna do to change the infinte? why would the infinite need changing anyway?

Treat it with compassion, stop bullying it, it's not its fault you're not where you should be. You think he's in the way so you get mad, you get frustrated it's not following instructions or refuses to step aside. But the ego is not the problem, nor in the way. Your attitude toward it is the problem. Let it be, it doesn't know any better! - post source

give yourself the permission to exist as you are. give yourself permission to be as you are, right now. start asking 'did i give permission for this?' you'll find how much stuff is not even your choice. as ada said its just tolerance and endurance of the forced vanessa.

now you realise you don't have to be a forced vanessa. so you go completely the other direction and try to (forcefully) change the vanessa. you're still holding up standards, ideas & roles to yourself. the things that made you hate vanessa in the first place. just maybe, for this moment hold nothing. drop the knife.

“Stop trying to heal yourself, fix yourself, even awaken yourself. Let go of letting go. Stop trying to fast-forward the movie of your life. It gets so exhausting, doesn’t it, always trying to get there, chasing futures that never seem to arrive, living on second-hand promises. Instead, bow deeply to yourself as you actually are. Be here. Honour this present scene in the movie. Your pain, your sorrow, your doubts, your deepest longings, your fearful thoughts, are not mistakes, and they aren’t asking to be healed. They are asking to be held. Here, now, lightly, in the loving arms of present awareness…” — Jeff Foster