#i think a little too much for a min and i start getting lightheaded and dizzy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonlit-jeno · 4 years

Text

snapshot | l.jn

pairing: lee jeno x reader

genre/ warnings: smut, thigh riding, hand jobs, masturbation

words: 2.6k

Jeno is going to pass out.

It’s not because of the lack of sleep he had gotten, the fact that he’s about to miss the deadline for his essay, or because he’s been eating like shit the whole week. It’s not even because of the disgustingly graphic horror movie Renjun had made him watch. It’s because you, his very attractive roommate, have sent him a picture.

Nothing like the normally cute selfies you normally send him, or the ones taken from an awful angle to get a laugh out of him. This one’s sexy. Blue lace just barely covers your breasts, your necklace fitting perfectly in your cleavage. Your lips are parted slightly but they’re swollen, as if you’ve been biting them.

The sheer speed with which all the blood in his body rushes to his cock is fast enough to make him lightheaded almost immediately, and he stares at the picture long enough that it’s permanently ingrained behind his eyelids. Which is a problem. A big, big problem.

He realizes just how big of a problem it is when he gets a hand around his cock, guilt swimming in his stomach as he realizes that he’s about to jerk off to his roommate. His wonderful, lovely roommate who he is friends with. Did he have a mild crush on you? Yes. But your relationship is nothing but strictly platonic. And yet...

Even when he puts his phone away, he can’t stop thinking about that picture. You must’ve sent it to him on accident. Why else would he get that picture?

His phone dings and he opens it, hoping it’s Jaemin asking him to play video games. Lord knows he needs the distraction.

It’s not.

It’s you again. The attachment is a video this time, and holy fuck. The video starts with a shot of your legs, a pair of matching blue panties that just barely cover your pussy. There’s a soft moan, and Jeno’s ears strain to pick up on it.

“I’m so wet for you.” You sigh, letting your fingers slip under the fabric. A gasp leaves you at the feeling and Jeno wishes that he could see what you’re doing, but the fabric blocks his view and he wishes that he could rip it off of you. “God, I wish you were here with me. You’d fuck me so well.”

You move your fingers up to the camera and fuck, you really weren’t lying when you said you were wet. The digits are glistening and Jeno audibly moans. He fucking ascends when you pop the digits in your mouth, moaning around them obscenely. The video ends and yet Jeno is too overwhelmed you process anything, just sits there with his phone in his hand and his eyes glued blankly to his wall.

He can’t stop the images from playing in his mind, but he manages to pull it together enough to come up with a response.

Jeno [11:53pm]

did you mean to send this to me?????

Roomie [11:54pm]

huh

OH HOLY FUCK

IM SO SORRY PLEASE DELETE THOSE

HOLY SHIT

Jeno [11:54pm]

haha it’s okay

i deleted them no worries

Roomie [11:54pm]

im so embarrassed right now

Jeno [11:55pm]

dont be

it happens to the best of us

can i come talk to you or do you need a minute to finish up

Roomie [11:56pm]

asjdhjsksj DID YOU HAVE TO PHRASE IT LIKE THAT

anyways yeah give me a min

Jeno wills his boner to go down and takes a few deep breaths, eventually standing from his chair and making his way down the hall. He bounces on his toes and checks the time. It’s been 3 minutes. Surely you’re ready now?

“Come in!” You yell when he knocks and he timidly lets himself in, shutting the door softly behind him. He can’t help but notice how adorable you look right now, wrapped so tightly in blankets that your face barely peaks out. Jeno notices the hoodie you’re swimming in is his, and it fills him with a strange sense of... something. Pride? Happiness?

“Hey.” He starts, standing awkwardly at the foot of your bed.

You take a moment before repeating the greeting. Neither of you know what to say and a horrible silence fills the room. Your laughter breaks it.

“This is so awkward, holy shit.” You giggle, breaking out of your cocoon a little bit. “I can’t even remember a time where it’s been this bad.”

“It was literally less awkward when we first met and that’s saying something.” Jeno snorts, taking a seat on the edge of the bed when you pat it.

The two of you laugh until it peters out into another silence. You clear your throat. “Uh. So about the, uh, pictures. I’m really sorry, I definitely didn’t mean to send them to you.”

Jeno laughs again, hoping that it doesn’t sound too strained. “Yeah, I kinda figured. It’s no big deal though, I already deleted them.”

“It’s not like I would send you nudes anyways, that’s stupid. I’d show you in person.” Jeno’s eyebrows nearly shoot off of his face with how high he raises them, a confused “huh?” leaving him. You laugh. “Y’know, because you’re right next door. Are you okay?”

He somewhat recovers. “Oh! Yeah, yeah, for sure. Face to face contact and all that.” His heart is still beating much too fast, his knee bouncing as he thinks about you showing up at his door in nothing but skimpy lingerie, a pout on your lips as you whisper that you’re so wet and that you need him to do something.

“Mhmm, exactly. Anyways, can we agree to forget about this?” You ask, and Jeno definitely won’t be forgetting about this anytime soon, but he nods anyways and murmurs an “of course”. You beam. “Cool! Are you gonna go to sleep? Because I was about to start a movie if you wanna join.”

Jeno shakes his head, the proximity driving him crazy. “I got an essay to write that is due,” He checks the clock. “9 minutes ago. Maybe another time?”

You open your arms and pull him in for a hug. “I’m holding you to that. Have fun writing your essay.”

He groans. “Oh yeah, the most fun.”

It’s when he gets past your door that you stop him. “Hey Jen?” He pauses, glances back, but doesn’t open the door to peek his head back into your room. “I’m glad it was you I sent the pictures to.”

He pretends like he doesn’t hear it, his mind already a jumbled mess.

The next few weeks are surprisingly not awkward. You both ignore it like you promised, going on with your routine as if it had never happened. Well, as much as possible, anyways.

Jeno is a young man in his prime. He has a very high sex drive. And yet, he hasn’t been able to jerk off in two weeks because every time he tries, he thinks of you. And the guilt that consumes him is always too much, so he ends up with a cold shower and a shit ton of frustration.

But two weeks is a long time to be pent up. So when you pop into his mind while he’s relaxing in bed, he can’t stop himself from grinding his hips down into the mattress. A little bit of relief turns into him humping the mattress like a dog, biting into his pillow to muffle his moans. You’re not home so he doesn’t really need to be quiet, but it’s a force of habit.

Your name still slips past his lips, and no matter how guilty he feels, he can’t stop. He groans your name and flips onto his back, wrapping his fist around his cock and nearly sobbing at how good it feels. His hips snap faster and faster into his hand and he’s so close, so fucking close-

“Jeno?” Your voice is too close to be a part of his imagination and it takes a moment for him to realize why.

His head snaps up and he makes eye contact with you, dread rushing through him. “Shit, y/n, I didn’t-“ He doesn’t finish, doesn’t know what he didn’t do, just yanks the covers up to protect the last bits of his dignity.

You swallow. “My class got cancelled. I uh, I heard you call my name and I didn’t realize that you were...” You trail off, making a vague gesture with your hand.

It’s bad, he knows, but he can’t stop himself from continuing to stroke himself at a torturous pace. He’s hidden from sight by the blanket and he grinds the heel of his palm into the head of his cock, biting his cheek so hard he tastes blood. It’s hurting more than it’s helping, and he knows it’s bad to keep doing it while talking to his roommate who he was just getting off to, but he can’t bring himself to care.

He grimaces, ready to try and talk himself out of it (or at least attempt to) when you continue. “Do you want help?”

Jeno’s eyes nearly fall out of his head and he hisses as he accidentally squeezes his cock too hard. You’re looking at your feet and maybe you’re just as embarrassed as he is.

“I mean, you’ve already seen my nudes. I wouldn’t mind, like, seeing yours too.” Jeno is hallucinating. There’s no way this is real. Shakily, he nods.

You move to sit down next to him, a little stiff, your eyes meeting his for a moment before flickering down over his torso. He jolts as you brush your fingertips along his arm, moving down the limb until you reach his hand, which is still fucking gripping his dick. You giggle when you realize that he’s been jerking off the whole time you’ve been in the room.

The covers are pulled down and your eyes widen briefly. Jeno’s self-conscious for half a second before you’re gasping out an “oh fuck, you’re big”. His ego inflates and he can’t stop himself from smiling.

“You must be close, yeah? Couldn’t stop touching yourself, even when I caught you.” Jeno groans, half in embarrassment, half in pleasure. You brush your fingers of the tip of his cock, just teasing around the head and his hips launch off the bed into your touch.

“Bet you were hoping I caught you. That’s why you were calling my name, isn’t it?” You lean close to brush your lips over his earlobe before moving down to leave wet kisses along his neck. He pants heavily, head tilting to give you more room.

Pleasure clouds his senses when you finally take pity on him, stroking his cock with a tight grip. “You’re the one who sent the pictures.” He pants out. There’s heat pooling his gut and he rolls his hips up into your grip, fucking into your hand.

“Aww, you liked them? Let me tell you a secret.” You move so that you’re straddling his thigh, leaning down to suck a hickey into his chest, and Jeno doesn’t miss the way your subtly rock your hips down. “I was thinking about you when I took them.”

That does it. Images of you picking out that lingerie with him in mind, posing and sucking on your fingers for him, touching yourself while imagining it’s him flash through his mind and it’s too much to handle. Jeno comes with a loud groan of your name, panting shallowly and digging his heels into the mattress. You work him through it, dragging out his pleasure until it’s almost too much and it starts to get painful. A loud whine leaves him and you laugh.

Jeno’s ears are ringing and his brain has turned to mush, so it takes him a while to realize that he’s got an arm locked around your body keeping you anchored to his chest. It also takes him a moment to notice how you grind down against his thigh, how you whimper and moan as you chase that bliss.

He just about comes again when he notices that you’ve got your fingers in your mouth, sucking and lapping at the digits to clean them of his come.

“Fuck,” He groans softly, tensing his thigh and pressing it up against you. “That feel good, baby?”

A hum leaves you, eyes opening to meet his own. You look thoroughly fucked out, sweat beading on your forehead, pupils blown wide with lust. “Yeah, I’m so close.”

Jeno’s hands move without him telling them to, grabbing your hips and pulling you down against his thigh harder, faster. He grips at your ass, loving the way it feels in his palm, and he brings one hand down softly. A slap sounds through the room and you keen, hips stuttering against him.

“Come on baby, let go.” His voice sounds utterly wrecked, deep and gravelly and what was supposed to be a casual phrase comes out as a command. You can’t do anything but moan in response, babbling out some variation of “please, please, I’m so close, I’m so- ohfuck.”

Your pace grows sloppy as you come, sobs leaving you as Jeno forces you to maintain a quick rhythm via his hands on your hips. Watching you fall apart is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He can’t tear his eyes away from you.

“Too much, I can’t- Jeno, I can’t-“ You shake and twitch on top of him and it fills him with satisfaction, seeing that he made you like this. He softens his hold, moving one hand up to your back and anchoring you to his chest. You bury your face into him with a sigh.

Jeno’s content to lay there and rub your back for a bit, maybe get some sleepy cuddles. But you push yourself up onto your forearms and disappointment fills him. He expects you to leave, expects things to be so unbearably awkward between the two of you that you have to move out, expects- well, anything except for the pair of lips pressing to his own.

The kiss takes him by surprise and he makes a muffled noise, taking a moment to coordinate himself enough to kiss back. You’re smiling into the kiss and it makes him smile too, his hand coming up to cup your jaw.

“So you sent me those nudes on purpose.” Jeno teases when you finally pull away, gasping for air. Your eyes widen before you’re shaking your head and giggling.

“No! I actually didn’t. They were meant for Mark, but I was thinking about you when I took them, so I guess my brain decided it would be a good idea to press your name.” You shuffle down a little bit so that your legs fit perfectly with his, limbs tangling together.

Jeno brushes your hair off of your forehead, stroking your scalp softly. You hum and melt into him. “Well, I guess you missed the mark on that one.”

It takes a moment for it to register but when it does, your head snaps up and you glare at him. “That was horrible, oh my God. I’m breaking up with you.”

“But we’re not dating?”

You turn shy, laughing and hiding your face. “Oh yeah. Well, would you maybe, uh, want to?”

Jeno can’t fight the smile that takes over his entire face as he looks at you. He leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. “I would love to.”

#nct smut #jeno smut #nct dream smut #lee jeno smut #kpop smut #jeno imagines #jeno scenario #nct imagines

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oneoftheprettynerds · 4 years

Text

Catching Up: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: This is my first dark fic and it is my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 & @navybrat817 ‘s August writing challenge. Hope you all like it.

Prompts: 11. “We’re not done yet.” and 4. “Shhh, be good for me.” And Gif 3.

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: Ransom rarely gets a hold of you and this time he isn’t letting go

Warning: Drugging/spiking a drink, implied non-con, ransom being his asshole self, 18+. I do not condone any such behaviour in real life. Your Media consumption is your own responsibility.

"I really think I should get going, I have some errands to run." You said standing up from the Sofa Ransom forced you to sit in, in his living room.

You knew coming to give him some documents in the evening was a bad idea but your employer, Linda deemed it 'absolutely necessary' for Ransom to have the files.

"At 9 in the evening? Don't kid me now, I'm pretty sure all shopping centres are already closed due to the freezing temperature." Was Ransom's reply from the kitchen.

"A lot of retail shops are still open near my area, and I really don't want to be imposing." You said gathering your purse and looking for yours keys from the coffee table in front of you.

"Don't be so rude (Y/N), I poured you some wine to warm you up, plus I was pathetically alone right now streaming through Netflix. I'm pretty sure you would be significantly interesting than that." He said with a mischievous glint in his eyes, that shook your spine, raising goose bumps on your neck and blasting sirens in your head. He motions you to your sofa again while fetching two wine glasses in his hands.

You took the one with lower level of wine as you had to drive back home within 15 min, after entertaining Ransom's ass for some time until he got drunk enough to notice your absence.

Hopefully.

"Let me raise the temperature, it’s awfully cold." He said raising the thermostat to some temperature he found pleasant and then returned to his seat in front of you.

You took a small sip of your wine to calm your nerves as you looked at the man ahead of you. Ransom's presence had always irked you for as long as you could remember, and that too in the most unpleasant way imaginable.

His eyes, though the most beautiful ones you have ever encountered, seemed animalistic and predatory no matter who they looked at: Harlan, Joni, Marta; like he had something to claim from everyone, including you.

You had always been a simple girl, with no larger than life goals, just surviving and serving enough to please yourself and everyone. You took your work seriously, sometimes drank and never stepped out of a line you fixed for your own self. Call it boring, but you were sure you owed all your life's stability right now to these self imposed rules.

One of your rules, however, told you to avoid situations just like these, with insatiable spoilt boys that had unknown unappeasable endless desires.

And how stupid were you being, drinking alcohol as we speak.

"So how come you have never had a conversation with me, even at any of my mother's parties?" Ransom interrogated though you think you heard some bitterness in his voice as if you've never paid attention to his God like presence.

"I didn't mean it purposely, I always had to look over and manage all the things at the parties, I have never had time to indulge in it myself. Besides I always did greet you and your family if i came across." You said in a calm tone, not to pick a fight but not to weaken your stance either.

“No worries now though, we will have plenty of time catch up soon.” He said, making you panicked and petrified as you almost did a double take.

“What did you mean by that?’ You asked not even bothering to hide your accusing tone this time.

“I was simply referring to the Christmas party due next week.” He replied after a while, but you did not believe him.

“What are you planning on your wearing?” He suddenly questioned, as if to redirect the conversation to another topic.

You let it go, feeling uncomfortable dwelling on his intent behind those scary nerve-wracking words any further. You didn’t know if you were reading too much into it, but it was better to be alert and alarmed than to be sorry and grieve later. Well, however alarmed your inebriated self could be.

Your thoughts distracted you making a little late to answer, such that you found Ransom picking up the discussion again.

“I hope you wear that wine dress you wore when i came across you at the bar downtown, or maybe the black dress you wore at the company’s last event. God that slit looked so sexy on your legs.”

Your eyes widened as your fuzzing mind slowly registered his words, and you were freaked out now, because he wasn’t even trying to censor his filthy thoughts anymore.

Filthy? You haven’t even heard filthy yet.

“Ransom, I don’t appreciate you talking about me like that. I think... I think I should go.” You said, leaving the somewhat filled glass of wine on the table and moving to collect your things. This time, however, Ransom made no move to stop you.

Instead with an irritated scoff he replied, “You can’t blame a guy for checking out nice curves on girls. Even that blonde friend of yours was not so subtly looking at your rack. At least I have the decency to be honest.”

Decent was definitely not the word you would use for him. Not even among the first thousand words that might fall from your lips.

“As pleasant as our meeting was” A totally obvious lie, “I should get going.”

You said, totally ignoring his comment about your friend Niall, you made your way towards the door.

“(Y/N), Why don’t you stay a little longer?”

You ignored his polite invitation and exited the door, taking deep breaths. Maybe it was the alcohol, or Ransom’s suffocating perversion, or maybe the single digits temperature surrounding you, you were feeling lightheaded and frenzied.

Just hang in there and get in the car. Rest we’ll figure out later.

You kept repeating the notion. Standing beside your car, you looked in the purse for your keys under the dim gleam of a streetlight nearby.

The black insides of your purse starting blurring just a bit and you tried to stay calm.

A grip on your arm startled you as you spun just a little to look at Ransom holding you, his blue eyes looking almost pitch black and sinister.

“Wh-What do you want? Let me go home.” You asked your eyes going wide, heart beating several miles a minute, blood pumping loudly through your veins as felt your legs shaking. Relieving yourself of his grip was not an option when you could barely stand on your own.

“Darling, We’re not done yet.” He said, his voice almost soothing you, lulling you to sleep.

“Please Ransom, just st..” You mumbled incoherently, your vision closing in on you as you embraced the deceiving arms of sleep.

“Shhh, be good for me and you’ll be okay. Now come on, the night is young and I have a lot to memorize about you.”

He cradled you and picked you up bridal style as your head lolled to the side resting on his shoulder. He picked your purse up from the ground as well and entered his house with a minacious smirk on his face, his pants already tightening around his crotch.

Guess you were going to catch up.

#shamelesshoesforchris #dark ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom #drugging #chrisevans #chrisevans x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #entry #dark fic #mcudarklibrary #knives out #dark ransom drysdale #dark ransom fic

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jungshookz · 4 years

Note

Say if there was an alternative universe where L*** actually got together with Ceo!Yoongi, how would Ceo!OC deal with it? Genuinely curious & no offense to miss OC! We luv u! 🥺

➺ pairing; min yoongi x reader

➺ genre; alternate ceo!yoongiverse, uh oh uh oh it’s angst!!!!!! angst in ur pangst

➺ wordcount: 1.7k

➺ what to expect; “how do you know when you’ve found the one?”

➺ note; first of all l*** made me chuckle and second of all buckle up!!! it’s time to travel to an alternate ceo!universe where yoongi and y/n don’t end up together :’(( my heart is sad :’(( this was a baby drabble that went off the rails a little whoOps

➺ ♪; serendipity (music box edition) okay serendipity is such a beautiful song already but the music box edition.,,. it’s so.,,. it makes a single tear roll down my cheek and i thought it was so fitting for this alternate storyline :-(

➽───────────────❥

it’s about 10:15 when you hear the faint ding of the elevator

!!!

yoongi’s back!!!!!!

you pull the sleeve of your blouse up to check the time on your watch

jesus

he’s been gone for like four hours

do dates normally last that long???

you haven’t been on one in forever and the last date you went on only lasted for like an hour and a half

(it wasn’t a super great date)

(he took u to a burger king drive thru and u had to pay because he ‘left his wallet in his other jacket’)

you perk up immediately when yoongi’s footsteps begin echoing down the hallway and you get up from your chair before smoothing your skirt down

your legs are a little numb considering you’ve just been sitting here tapping away at your monitor for the past four hours

and your ass is a little sore too

the things you do for this man!!

“how’d the date go, boss?” you keep your hands folded in front of you and try your hardest not to twiddle your thumbs

you notice the dopey grin on yoongi’s face as he approaches your desk and...

you’re not a love guru or anything, but that seems like an indicator that the date must’ve gone pretty well

the faint lipstick smudge on the corner of his mouth is also a pretty big giveaway

“it went so much better than i expected!” yoongi laughs lightly as he heads into his office with his suit jacket flung over his shoulder

he’s practically floating on a cloud

you can see the little pink hearts bouncing around his head!!

“i’m so happy to hear that, sir.” you trail behind him obediently and swallow thickly as you feel your heart clench in your chest, “i’m glad it went well!”

you don’t want to make yourself sound like an awful human being or anything but you’d be lying to yourself if you said a teensy little part of you didn’t want his date with lisa to crash and burn

you just...

you thought that maybe...

god

what were you thinking?

did you actually think you had a chance with yoongi?

did you think that just because the two of you have spent a considerable amount of time together that something would happen?

that he would slowly fall in love with you the way you’ve slowly fallen in love with him?

do you even hear yourself right now??

you’re IN LOVE with min yoongi!!

and you thought he’d love you right back!!

you sound ridiculous!

you feel pathetic!

how could you be so delusional?

“lisa was so wonderful… so kind and sweet and funny… she took me to this frozen yogurt place for dessert! i love frozen yogurt!” yoongi sighs as he plops down on his chair, “can i ask you something personal, y/n?”

“that depends, sir. what is it?”

“how do you know when you’ve found the one?”

your heart thrums painfully in your chest and you swallow the growing lump in your throat

“that’s a good question. you’ll just know when you’ve found the one, i think.” you clear your throat, “when they smile, so will you. one of your favourite sounds in the entire world will be the sound of their laugh. they’re the first thing you think about when you wake up and the last thing you think about before you fall asleep. they’ll make your heart glow golden in your chest... at least, that’s what i think.”

the corner of your mouth lifts in a fond smile when you notice yoongi gazing up at the ceiling with a dreamy look in his eyes

you feel a kind of warmth grow in your chest when he lets out a cute little sigh

you’re not particularly sure what kind of answer he’s looking for but obviously he wasn’t really listening because he’s starting to blab again, “how long should i wait until texting her?? god, i feel old-“

“i’m sorry, sir, you have some… you have some lipstick on your mouth.” you smile sheepishly as you cut him off

you don’t know how much more of this you can take

“oh, lord. that’s a little embarrassing.” yoongi reaches up and wipes at the opposite side of where the smudge is, “there?”

“no, it’s just-” you point to the corner of his lip, “it’s just right there...”

yoongi reaches up again and just misses the spot and you can’t help but snort

“can you just help me so i don’t keep making a fool of myself?” yoongi leans back against his chair and you smile before nodding

you make your way to the other side of his desk and yank a tissue out from the tissue box

yoongi rolls his chair towards you and you bend over slightly to get down to his eye level

“if it makes you feel any better…” you tuck a finger under yoongi’s chin before raising his head a little, “cherry red is definitely your colour.”

“you out of all people should know that burgundy makes my eyes pop.” yoongi murmurs quietly and you let out a light giggle as you wipe the smudge away gently

the two of you lock gazes for a brief second and you feel your heart skip a beat

oh boy

you’re in too deep

how the hell are you going to get yourself out of this?

(and just to sprinkle a little more salt into the wound-)

“speak now or forever hold your peace.”

your fingers dig into the flesh of your palm as sooN as the priest utters that stupid phrase

you would curse but you feel like god is going to send you straight to hell if you have a dirty mouth under his roof

“hey, you okay?” jimin reaches over to take your hand and he gives you a reassuring squeeze when he notices your eyes starting to glaze over, “y/n…”

“it’s okay, i’m okay.” you press your lips together and nod, “sorry. you know weddings make me weepy.”

jimin’s shoulders droop slightly and he turns back to face the front as he chews on his bottom lip anxiously

you’ve told him time and time again noT to feel bad for you but he can’t help it!!!

he can’t help but feel awful when he sees how sad your eyes are!!!

he can’t help but feel awful when he sees the way you look at yoongi

you look at him with so much love in your eyes and it’s so clear that you’d pluck all the stars in the sky for him if he asked you to

and jimin hates that he can’t do anything to help you!!!

you’ve been hopelessly in love with yoongi for nearly two and a half years now and jimin can tell you’re dying on the inside having to watch the man you love marry someone else

he’s tried to help you move on but it’s apparent that your heart just can’t let go

every time you try to move on you end up bouncing back twice as hard

he still remembers the day you found out yoongi had proposed to lisa

the two of you were meeting up for lunch as per usual but for some reason when you stepped off the elevator to greet him you looked as pale as a sheet of paper

“just know that this is coming from a place of love, but i feel like you might need to get a tan or something because-“

“she said yes.” you whisper so softly that jimin can barely make out what you’re saying

she said yes?

she said yes.

yoongi’s getting married?

he’s getting married... to lisa.

“i feel so stupid.” your voice wavers as you let out a chuckle of disbelief

a ghost of a smile appears on your face briefly and jimin’s eyes widen when your eyes begin to water and your cheeks begin to redden

oh, no…

“c’mon, there’s an empty room around the corner.”

the memory of you collapsing to the floor and bursting into gutwrenching sobs as soon as you stepped into the room never fails to send a pang straighT into jimin’s heart

also

weddings dO make people weepy but it should be a happy weepy!!!

not a sad weepy!!!!!!

“you may now kiss the bride!”

the crowd immediately bursts into thunderous cheers when yoongi sweEPs lisa off her feet before giving her a loving kiss

she giggles against his mouth as she reaches up to cup either sides of his face

time slows down as you rise from your seat and begin to clap

the sound of applause rings in your ears and you begin to feel lightheaded when the realization hits you:

it’s too late.

jimin is able to pinpoint the exact moment your heart shatters in your chest and he feels his own heart ache for you

you look so defeated.

you force a bright smile when yoongi and lisa begin to make their way down the aisle

he looks so happy

so in love

and that’s what’s most important here, right?

as long as yoongi is happy, you’re happy!

“don’t.” tears tremble at your waterline and you shake your head furiously when you see jimin’s lips part to say something

you don’t want to hear whatever it is he has to say because you are currently in a veRY fragile state and you feel like you could burst into tears and completely break down at any given moment

“hey crybaby, see you at the afterparty??” yoongi reaches out to grab onto your hand as he walks past your row

“i wouldn’t miss it for the world, boss!” you chirp in response and yoongi gives your hand a squeeze

your heart sinks in your chest when you feel his hand slip away from yours

it’s too late.

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

requested drabbles masterlist

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hanjisungz-remade · 5 years

Text

love equation ☽ minho

✦ genre: friends to lovers au, college au, fluff, slight angst ✦ description: minho’s ideas were dangerous but of course, as his best friend, you went along with them all. this one, however, could be dangerous for you. specifically your heart ✦ pairings: lee minho x reader ✦ word count: 11.5k ✦ warnings: mild language, slightly suggestive at points ✦ a/n: i decided i wanted to get back into writing fics and here is my first fic in three years! i’m a little bit rusty but i hope you all like it ♡

“Ta-da! All done.” You smiled, taking a step back to admire the work you’d done. Small picture frames littered the walls of your new bedroom, stereotypical fairy lights decorating the empty space around it. It wasn’t night just yet, but you were excited to be able to lay down and see a recreation of the night sky on your ceiling.

However, as soon as you stopped hanging everything up, a sharp pain shot through your back. A shockwave of small pricks traveling from your lower back to above your shoulder blades. Suddenly everything seemed too much, the pain making you lightheaded.

Turning on your heels, you slowly walked out to your living room, plopping down on the couch and bringing both of your hands to your back. As much as you tried to massage out the pain, there was only so much your own reach could do.

Great, first day of college and you get hurt, you thought.

Just as you were about to text your best friend, Minho, to see if he had gotten settled in, you heard a knock at your door. Before you could ask who it is, the person at the other side sighed, “Don’t keep me waiting all day!” Speak of the devil, you thought as you continued the assault on your taut muscles.

“Door’s open!” You shout, maybe too loud, at Minho, watching as he flung open the door and looked around the room, eyes settling on you wincing in pain.

“First of all, lock your door! You don’t know what kind of creep can just walk in.”

Before he could continue you interrupted, “Like you just did?”

Minho raised his eyebrows almost to his hairline, “You’re the one that let me in!” There’s a slight pause before he continued on, his face now shifted to one of concern, “What happened to you?”

Leaning back so your head rested on the wall behind you, you groaned again, “I was hanging up picture frames in my bedroom and I must have pulled a muscle.” You winced as you sat up, hands continuing to massage your lower back. “Or multiple muscles.”

Sitting up caused you to get a full look at what Minho was wearing. A pair of black basketball shorts along with an old Metallica shirt that was a little too big on him settled on his frame. It was big enough to dip down in the front, showing his collarbones and the silver chain necklace that always hung around his neck. You knew these were his relaxed, “i-look-bad-but-i-don't-care” clothes, but why did he look so good?!

You found yourself staring at him and you tried to shake off the thoughts of finding your best friend that attractive but no one could deny that Lee Minho had always been one of the most attractive guys in your class.

Said man seemed to notice your eyes glazed over, because he suddenly appeared right in front of you, hand waving furiously across your face, “Hello? Earth to Y/N? Anyone in there?” He raised a hand, presumably to hit you on the head, but then quickly retracted it.

“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry I was just thinking about classes starting tomorrow.” You chuckled, wincing slightly as a shock ran up your back. Surely these thoughts would pass, they always did.

Minho moved around to sit next to you, smiling as he bounced up and down on your couch. “I’m so excited! My first class is choreography 101 and I heard the instructor made dances for all the big pop stars!” He leaned into you, looking up at the empty space. “Think of it. Taylor Swift, Harry Styles, Beyonce, I could be one of those people to make dances for them!” His arms outstretched before he whipped around to face you.

Suddenly you realized just how close you were, and you’ve been this close before but now you focused on how his eyes sparkled when he talked about the one thing he loved. You shook those thoughts away, seeing his bright smile and immediately countering with your own.

“That sounds great, Min! I’m sure you’ll be one of the best choreographers in the world.” Again, you shook off the intense beating of your heart and forced yourself not to let your eyes wander down to Minho’s lips. No matter how much it tempted you, you would resist.

“You’re just saying that because you’re my best friend, you're required to say it.” He nudged your side, standing up and looking around once. “Your dorm is actually really cool, and you're lucky you don’t have a roommate.” Pausing, he looked at you, wiggling his eyebrows in a very mischievous and very Minho-like way. “You can bring guys over and not worry about thin walls.”

He knew you had never dated anyone before, much less had to worry about ‘thin walls’, yet he always used it tease you lightly. You had thought about dating before, but as you always countered back at him, you weren’t sure how it was supposed to work. Sure, people meet and they get together, but what happens after that? It was like some sort of mystery that you were way too skeptical to jump into.

“Maybe you’ll meet someone in your geeky science classes! You know, a cute chemist that can woo you with a love potion.” Minho waved his hand around as if he was holding a wand.

You rolled your eyes as his suggestion, yet the idea didn’t seem that bad. Maybe you could get your mind off of your newfound feelings for Minho (that were probably always there yet you refused to believe) and score yourself your first relationship.

“I guess that doesn’t sound that bad.” You said, standing up from the couch and stretching. The pain in your back had diminished somewhat, and you found yourself feeling somewhat liberated from the worries of freshman year.

“What are your classes tomorrow?” Minho backed up into the doorframe, waving hello to some of the people passing by.

“Uh, Chemistry Lab and English Lit.” You replied.

“Are we still going to have our monthly movie nights?” His voice sounded hopeful and you smiled gently at him.

You walked up to him in the doorway, reaching one hand up and ruffling his already tousled hair. “Of course, Min. You’re only a building away now so we can watch even more movies.”

“Awesome, I can’t wait.” Minho leaned forward, moving one hand from the doorframe and resting his hand on your head, repeating the same motion you did to him.

He ran away laughing before you could do anything about it, but you got one good, “asshole!” in before he rounded the corner, out of your sight and hopefully out of your mind.

ii.

Walking into your first class of your new college life was nerve wracking, to say the least, and you hadn’t started off the day too well either. First, you woke up to a loud argument from the room next to you. It’s the first day and there’s already yelling?! Then, you almost forgot your student ID, effectively locking you out of the classroom buildings. And finally, the icing on the cake, you almost burst into a class in the middle of a test because you thought it was yours and you knew you would be dreaming about that horrifically embarrassing moment for years to come.

Luckily, none of that happened, and you passed through your English Lit class with just a large book and thick packet the teacher deemed as the syllabus. Next was Chemistry and as you looked around the room, there were only two empty seats. One of them being right in front of the teacher’s desk and the other being next to a guy already messing with the beakers sat in front of each table. Since it was your very first day of class, you decided against sitting right in front of the teacher, opting to slowly approach the man that was really engrossed in whatever he was doing.

“Hello?” You asked, speaking loud enough to be heard amongst the pre-class chatter throughout the room. “Can I sit here?”

When he turned around, you took notice of his soft brown eyes. He seemed surprised, mouth hung open as he looked to the beaker in his hand and then at the empty seat next to you.

“Oh, yeah! Of course.” He answered, sliding over slightly to make room for you. “My name is Chan.”

“Nice to meet you, my name is Y/N.” You took out a pen, eyes drifting to his hands holding the beaker. Chan went back to looking at it suspiciously, eyebrows furrowed in a tight line. “Um, can I ask what you’re doing?” You asked. You didn’t know where this confidence came from, you would normally never interact with classmates unless instructed to, but you already found yourself somewhat comfortable around Chan.

He chuckled, and your eyes were drawn to his big smile and the one dimple poking at his right cheek. “I was just checking to make sure there wasn’t any extra residue from past classes left in here. I wouldn’t want any extra cesium or germane left in here and then we all go boom!”

You were impressed by his knowledge, nodding your head and waiting for class to start. Tapping your pen, you looked around at the other students. They all seemed engulfed in the beakers in front of them. Some turned on the burners while others went to the front where small bags were arranged in groups.

“Are we supposed to be starting an experiment?” You looked around the room again, and then to the paper at the front of your desk. Picking it up, you noticed Chan coming closer to you, head peering over at the paper.

“Pick up the bags of chemicals on the table up front.” Chan read aloud, “Then test each chemical, recording your findings on each one. This assignment is a team assignment. Work with your partner next to you. Good luck!”

Immediately he went to grab the bags and you couldn’t help but look him up and down. His shoulders were very wide, the hint of two earrings poking out from behind his curly hair and there were three rings all on his right hand. You weren’t sure why you were checking him out this much, but he held a dorky and interesting aura that made you want to find out more.

As he was walking back, he held up the bags, all with various different colors, and said in an all too cheery but very sweet voice, “Ready to do this, partner?”

You mimicked his smile, “Let’s go, partner.”

iii.

After your second chemistry class, Chan had asked for your number and feeling that this was an opportunity to try and banish your feelings for Minho and possibly get yourself your first boyfriend, you agreed. Honestly you weren’t sure if Chan thought of you in the same way, but the image of his smile clouded your judgement so you agreed.

For the past two days you had been texting him and asking about the countless textbook pages that you were assigned as homework. Of course no one in the class wanted to do them, but you figured having someone to motivate you by saying he’s already finished the pages could be of some help.

Now it was Saturday and you could feel the relaxation taking over as you got back from the library, checking out books on the various chemical reactions that water could have to prepare for a quiz next week. As soon as you walked through your door you ran into your room, changing into a soft baggy shirt and shorts. The weather hadn’t changed from warm to cold yet, so you knew you had a few more weeks until you could dodge shaving for a day or two in favor of wearing jeans.

You’re snapped back to reality as you heard someone knock on the door, immediately remembering that this was your monthly movie night with Minho. You two had been doing this since the beginning of high school and very rarely had you missed a month, and those had been because of severe stomach flu and a date Minho had that he swore he couldn’t pass up even though they broke up two weeks later.

You ran to the door after the knocking turned into more of a drum beat. “Okay, okay I’m coming. Calm your ass.”

“I wasn’t the one that said 5 PM on the dot. You’re the one that’s late.” Minho walked through the door with a stack of movies in his arms and all of a sudden you were reminded of your annoying feelings for this man.

“I figured we could start with one or two and if it’s too late we could hit the hay and leave the rest here for next month.” He turned around and you noticed the small dark bags under his eyes. You hadn’t texted him much if at all this week, too focused on the start of all your classes this semester but you knew he must be exhausted from all the dance classes he took. It was his major but there was only so much your legs could move before they gave out.

“You look tired.” You remarked, walking over to the couch and motioning for him to sit next to you.

He obliged, sitting down with a thump and resting his head just as you had done the weekend before. “I practiced late last night finishing this short dance piece for class. It’s nothing,” Minho picked his head up and shot you a smile, “I’ll be fine.”

You eyed him suspiciously, not fully believing him, but instead nodding. “Okay.” Then you turned your head to the stack of movies, flipping through them and settling on a scary one you didn’t think you had seen before. “I haven’t seen this one, have you?” Minho shook his head. “Great, let’s start.”

You stood up to put the movie in the DVD player before settling back onto the couch in the most comfortable position. Your feet were resting in Minho’s lap, his hands softly tapping a beat onto your shins. You noticed he was wearing a similar outfit to the last time you saw him, this time with a brightly tie dyed Nirvana shirt.

Before your mind could wander, you heard the loud screams from the screen and you snapped your attention back to the movie. You didn’t want to think about how much you wanted to be wrapped in his arms or how much you craved his fingers dancing down your arms or face before he kissed you. You didn’t want to think about it, so you forced yourself to watch the already cheesy thrasher movie playing in front of you.

You noticed Minho’s hands would squeeze your leg when a jumpscare popped up, the slight pressure causing you to look up at him. His eyes were squinted, lips set in a straight line as he cocked his head to the side. It seemed he thought this movie was bad, and you definitely couldn't disagree with that sentiment.

Suddenly Minho leaned forward and paused the movie, hand flinging up towards the screen. “Look at that! This relationship is not realistic.” You shrugged, not knowing exactly what a realistic relationship would look like, yet letting him go on. “It’s so obvious that the guy is gonna die and she’s going to be the only one left at the end.” Something close to a scowl crept up on his face.

“I agree this movie is trash, but I want to see the end.” You sat up and shrugged again. “Besides, I don’t know what a realistic relationship looks like so I thought they looked cute.” You chuckled, turning around when you heard your phone beep.

It was Chan, texting you a joke about the chemicals you were learning about and you found yourself laughing softly at it. Minho leaned forward, peering over your shoulder, a sound of surprise coming from him as he sat back, “Did you find someone? He better be good if he’s interrupting our monthly movie night.” His voice sounded hopeful, yet you thought there was a hint of disappointment. Maybe that was just your own brain hoping, so you brushed past it.

“I don’t know, maybe? His name is Chan and he’s my lab partner for chemistry.” You looked up from your phone, a small frown on your face. “You know I’m not good with relationships, Min. I’m worried I’ll mess something up.”

Minho nodded along, one side of his mouth tilted up as if he was deep in thought. “I have an idea.” He finally spit out after sitting there for a minute.

Normally when Minho said he had an idea, you were terrified, to say the least, since those ideas usually consisted of something dangerous or potentially trouble-causing. But of course, you were his best friend, so you almost always went along with whatever plan he had. You signaled for him to say it, but you were not expecting what came out of his mouth.

“Well, you’ve never been in a relationship. And I don’t want inexperience to get in between you and a good guy, so why don’t I show you how you should be treated in a relationship?” His tone was nonchalant but you saw a nervousness behind his eyes. And at that moment you knew that this idea of his was dangerous. It was dangerous for your heart.

Yet you still nodded. What could go wrong? You thought as you clarified, “so you mean like pretending to date?”

Minho shrugged, “I guess? I didn’t think past this point.” He sat up, grabbing both of your hands. He was warm, and the thought of those hands cupping your face made your heart speed up. “I want you to have some experience before you find someone. I don’t want you to be an awkward mess.” He chuckled and you found yourself relaxing and laughing back. “I just thought we could do some couple things, I could show you the ropes, and when you feel like you're ready, you can go after this Chan guy with all the knowledge you gained from me. It’s like best friends with romantic benefits.”

The thought of experiencing anything close to romantic with Minho made your heart almost explode out of your chest, yet you thought that maybe if you did this it would somehow satisfy your feelings for him and you could move on.

So you nodded again. “Sure,” you said, smiling, “let’s do it.”

“Cool. Now come here.” Minho sat back, motioning for you to come closer so you did. Your knees moved against the plush couch and as soon as you were close enough, Minho’s arm wrapped around your shoulders. You let out a soft sound of surprise as your head was met with his chest.

You had cuddled with Minho before, after a sad movie when you just needed a shoulder to cry on, after getting accepted to college and you fell asleep on him that night talking about how excited you were to be going to the same school.

But this was different. This was Minho moving one hand to start the movie again. This was Minho resting one hand on your arm, fingers going back to tapping a soft rhythm. This was Minho and his scent invading your nose. This was your best friend softly holding you as you relaxed into his touch.

“I know it’s trash but how about we have a bad movie night?” He didn’t need to raise his voice much, your ear pressed against his chest. You could practically hear the rumble in his chest as he spoke. You had expected it to become awkward, but after a breath, you relaxed into his arms, one of your own hesitantly resting on his stomach.

“Is this right?” You asked, wanting to get as much information as you could. If this was supposed to be a learning experience you were going to make the most of it.

Minho chuckled and you felt the vibrations through your whole body. “Yea, that’s good, but you can move your head to wherever you feel comfortable.”

Your back was starting to ache from this position, so you listened to Minho’s words, adjusting yourself so that your forehead was against his neck. Your hand that was previously on his stomach went to wrap around his torso.

On an instinct that only comes with a lot of experience, Minho’s hand went to your back, his palm moving slowly up and down your spine. You felt a shiver run through you which made no sense because Minho was really warm and that warmth spread from head to toe.

You thought about just how many people Minho had done this with. You knew just how many significant others he’d had, and the thought of anyone else doing this with him stung just a little bit.

It also stung to know that eventually you would go back to best friends and he would likely forget this ever happened. As much as you wanted to push back the feelings, you felt a small spark in your stomach and you knew if you let this go on for a while it would only cause you pain.

Minho must have sensed your tense shoulders because the hand that was on your back moved to your hair. His fingertips danced across your scalp. “You okay Y/N?” His voice was soft, head tilting down and you could feel his lips inches away from your forehead. The way he said your voice could only be described as delicate. It was a soft whisper said into thin air and if you hadn’t been pressed right up against him you were sure you wouldn't have heard it.

“Yeah, I’m okay, just cold.” Your voice mimicked his own, your breath fanning out against his shirt. Though you knew it would hurt, you decided that you would throw caution into the wind and just enjoy the now.

As you continued on with the movie, you took notice of Minho’s hand. One rested on the side of the couch, ready to turn off the movie if it got too bad, while the other alternated from resting on your arm to rubbing soothing circles into your back.

Everything overwhelmed your senses. His hand felt soft on your back, touching you as if you were porcelain. His shirt smelled of laundry detergent but with your nose pressed into his neck you caught a scent that was obviously very Minho. You couldn’t put your finger on it particularly, but it was a smell that you didn't think you could ever identify except by one name, Minho. His heart thumped against your ear, and it reminded you of just how real this was and how his heartbeat was oddly fast.

A sense of comfort washed over you, and you realized you were subconsciously drawing circles into Minho’s stomach with your right hand. His shirt was soft and you had the overwhelming urge to slip under his shirt and find out if his skin was just as plush.

Suddenly all of the exhaustion you had pushed off from the week caught up to you. Your eyelids drooped down halfway, and you felt Minho move his head, peering down at you. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.” He chuckled.

He had called you countless nicknames before, some jokingly vulgar and others only someone who you were close with could use, but sweetheart was different. It made you smile and oblige his words, letting yourself fall into a slumber with a smile stuck on your face.

iv.

A soft swaying woke you from your dream. You hadn’t even remembered exactly what the dream was about, but you knew that Minho was there and you thought it must have been a good thing you didn’t remember.

Air sweeped below you and you realized that you weren’t standing nor sitting, you were being carried, albeit very carefully. You felt the tentative steps of the person carrying you and you could only assume it was Minho.

His arms were holding you gently, so much so that you could barely feel his fingers touching your shoulders and legs. You knew he was strong, but he moved with such light steps that it seemed as though he had no trouble in transporting you to your bedroom.

It was only another moment before you felt your body on the mattress and you decided to act as if you were still sleeping. You let your body naturally curl onto your side and it was then you remembered that it was probably late. You weren’t sure how long you slept but it was still too late for Minho to walk to his dorm.

You thought about waking up and asking him if he wanted to sleep on the couch or with you, but you were stopped by the feeling of a warm body pulling you softly against him. When your back hit something hard, you almost gave yourself away, gasping as an arm settled onto your waist.

This wasn’t the first time you found yourself in this position with Minho. Hell, you had known each other for nearly 10 years of your life, there wasn’t much you had kept private from Minho and vice versa. But this part, this vulnerable and far too touch deprived side of you, had never been shown to anyone and it was terrifying.

The tendrils of sleep were just about to overcome you when you remembered something that made your stomach flip and your heart start racing. Minho didn’t know you were awake. Why would he do these things if he knew you wouldn’t know?

Surely it was for when you woke up. Surely it wasn’t your mind running a mile a minute. You couldn't help but hold a small bit of hope, however, as you finally drifted off into sleep.

It had been three days since your agreement with Minho and you were met with radio silence. It’s not like you’re dating you thought to yourself as you walked back to your dorm from your final lecture of the day.

However as soon as you set your books down, your phone rang, the familiar contact name of ‘my favorite asshole’ popping up on the screen. It had been Minho who had changed his contact name, claiming it was “way too basic for your best friend.”

“Hey, what’s up?” You tried not to sound too upset at the lack of communication but you knew Minho like the back of your hand and you also knew that Minho knew you like the back of his hand.

“Practicing for an exam coming up next week.” His voice echoed and you were about to try and distract him with questions but he beat you to it. “Are you okay? You sound weird.”

“I’m just tired as fuck. Two tests and a lab experiment has been kicking my ass.” You replied and you weren’t lying, your back was starting to ache again from the constant moving around in Chemistry and you could feel a headache coming on.

There was a pause on the other line as Minho seemed to contemplate something. “Do you just wanna rest then?”

“I don’t know, I have some homework I should finish before I even think about a nap.” As soon as you replied, you followed up with a very curious, “Why? What’s up?”

Minho’s voice quieted for the moment, like someone was next to him and he didn’t want them to hear what he was saying. “I was just wondering if you wanted to come over and watch me practice. It’s been a while since we hung out and I miss my best friend.” There it was, best friend. It's exactly what you were, except you couldn’t help but feel a small pang in your chest. His voice dropped even quieter this time. “But you have to be sneaky, my dance teacher is strict about not letting dance students in the practice rooms.”

“Yea, sure. That sounds fun.” You grabbed your books, thinking you could get some work in. “I miss my best friend too.” You smiled. “Even if you’re an asshole sometimes.”

The giggle on the other side of the phone caused you to feel that warmth that you did three days ago. “But I’m you’re favorite asshole.” Minho countered.

He hung up before you could reply, so you gathered your things and headed to the dance studio.

The walk to the studio didn’t take long, in fact it was only two buildings over, so you got there rather quickly. After texting Minho you were there, you heard the door unlock and a fluffy haired Minho poke his head out.

“Come on in.” He held the door open for you, the hand that wasn’t gripped onto the door coming to rest on your lower back. It was surprising but you willed yourself not to get too taken aback. This was all part of the agreement.

It felt nice to be treated like that, however. How am I gonna find someone like Minho after this deal is over? You thought to yourself as said man steered you towards his practice room. The hand on your back was light but you definitely felt his presence there. His voice could be heard over the multitude of ‘what if’s flying around your head, but you had no idea what he was saying.

“You’re not listening to me.” He chuckled and opened the door for you, stepping in behind you while you looked around. The floor was shiny, all leading up to mirrors on three of the walls. It was weird seeing yourself from all different angles and you had to admit you looked tired.

“To be fair I never listen to you.” You countered against him, a smirk playing on your face as you walked towards the middle of the room. Your appearance stuck out in each of the mirror walls you looked at. There were deep bags under your eyes and you noticed a sense of fatigue hiding behind them.

“I look like shit.” You laughed, but you weren’t joking. Classes were draining and you could barely recognize yourself in the mirror.

“You look fine, sweetheart.” Minho laughed breathy and exhausted.

You saw Minho in the mirror walk up behind you, his hands rested on your shoulders. Instead of looking him in the eyes through the mirror, you opted to stare at his hands. His fingers dug into your shoulders, thumbs pressing just between your shoulder blades and an immense feeling of relief shot through you.

“Does that help?” He asked, fingers working deeper into your muscles.

It was as if all the stress and fatigue was slowly being lifted off of you as Minho’s hands worked magic. Instead of answering his question, you let out a soft sign followed by a groan, hoping that was an acceptable answer.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Minho laughed and continued like that for a minute. Small groans and sighs of relief were the only thing echoing off the walls. Although it had been more than a minute, it felt like just one second as he slowly stopped massaging you. “I don’t want to overdo it. You should sit down.” He motioned over to the bench in the corner.

As you walked over you took out your Chemistry textbook, “I’m gonna just get some reading done if you don’t mind.”

“Of course. Just having you here makes me feel better.” Minho smiled at you through the mirror. “I hope the music won’t distract you though.”

You shook your head, smiling back at the man in front of you. “No, I should be fine. Go ahead and practice.”

As soon as he turned to the audio machine, busy looking through the computer to find the song, you observed his outfit. He was wearing the baggy black sweatpants tucked into sneakers. Then you noticed his shirt. He was wearing a tank top, the straps resting on his shoulders but were so thin they threatened to slip off.

Music blasted through the studio and you recognized the smooth beats that washed over you. Soft drums hit your ears and you couldn't help but nod your head along as you read your textbook. It was only ten more pages you had to read and then you could curl up in bed and sleep.

You tried to finish reading the page on various chemical reactions but your temptation got the better of you and snuck a glance up at Minho and wow. The dance seemed to edge on the sensual side and you were surprised they weren’t assigned a partner for this. His hips rocked perfectly to the rhythm and you didn’t dare look at his eyes. You had seen him dance before and the look in his eyes when he danced could make any person melt from the sheer passion and determination.

You weren't sure exactly when he had gotten so muscular but you assumed him dedicating his life to dancing helped build them. He wasn’t ripped, per say, but he had just the right amount of muscle to prevent you from teasing him with string bean comments. Not to mention his thighs. The majority of his power resided in his thighs and you knew if you kept thinking about him you would dig yourself a deeper hole.

Somewhere in the trenches of you damn near drooling over Minho, you were startled by the door to the practice room being flung open. A woman dressed in workout shorts and a baggy crop top walks in, eyes following Minho’s movements before landing on you sitting in the far corner of the room.

“I thought I told you only dance students in this building.” The woman raised her voice over the music before finally going and turning it off. “Who is this?” She pointed towards you and you ducked your eyes down in embarrassment.

Minho paused for a moment, thinking of what to say before he finally blurts out, “They’re my significant other.” If you had been eating or drinking anything you’re sure you would have choked, but you tried to keep your composure as he continued, “They were going to work on homework but the library was closed and I offered to let them work here. I’m sorry Mrs. Lee.”

The dance teacher looked between you and Minho, and you decided to try and help the situation. “I’m so sorry. Don’t blame Minho, blame me. I wanted to spend some time with him but we were both busy with homework and I figured this would work. Again, I’m sorry. I won’t come back.” Your voice remained steady as you tried to play into the perception that you and Minho were actually dating. Although with the feelings blooming in you recently it wasn’t hard to act as though you wanted to spend time with him.

A loud sigh escaped her, her face softening slightly. “Ah, young love. I was there once.” You felt your face heat up. “Minho,” she directed her attention towards him, leaving you to observe, “You’re one of the best students in this class. Perhaps I can let this pass, as long as your choreography assignment is up to my expectations.”

“It is!” You smiled up at Mrs. Lee. “I haven’t seen it all but he’s one of the best dancers I know and you won’t be disappointed.”

She nodded curtly, turning around on her heels and making a swift exit.

As soon as she left, you felt Minho’s eyes on you. You avoided it for as long as you could before you heard Minho say your name. “Yeah?” You replied, looking up at him.

“I hope you're okay with me saying that to Mrs. Lee. If you want I can go tell her we aren’t-”

“No!” You cut him off maybe too quickly. “I mean, I don’t mind it. It’s helping me get experience isn’t it? Being introduced as someone’s significant other.” You didn’t add how much hearing it come from Minho’s mouth made a million sparklers go off in your stomach, nor did you add that now you’ve heard him say it, you never wanted him to stop saying it.

“Okay.” Was all Minho said before motioning towards the computer, the song he was dancing too that was paused by Mrs. Lee waiting to be started again. “I’m gonna practice again.”

You nodded. “Of course. I’m going to try and finish this chapter and then I might head home and hit the hay early.” As you looked into his eyes, you saw the deep bags that mirrored your own. “You should get some sleep too, Min. You look exhausted.”

Minho hesitated, shrugging his shoulders slowly. You could almost see his muscles working overtime just to keep him upright. “I should be fine, sweetheart. Don't worry about me.” He turned around so you could no longer see his face, not even in the mirror in front of you. “Maybe you should just head out and get some sleep. I don't want you to fall asleep in Chemistry tomorrow.”

Confusion flashed across your features as you stood up. You put your textbook in your bag, walking up to Minho and resting your hand on his shoulder. “No.” You spoke sternly, set on making him listen to you. “I refuse to leave unless you’re leaving with me. I don’t like seeing you like this, Min. It hurts me as much as it hurts you.”

Minho knew you like the back of his hand, and he knew you were firm in your statement. You really wouldn't leave until he did. A long sigh escaped his lips, air cascading into the already stuffy dance room.

Instinctively, your other hand raised to his other shoulder, pulling him closer to you. Minho’s muscles relaxed as he loosely wrapped his arms around your waist. His thumbs pressed lightly into your spine and that familiar wave of electricity surged from your head to your toes.

Hot breath fanned across your neck as Minho nuzzled his head there. It was weird having someone that close to you and it reminded you of just how vulnerable you were. You ran your fingers around his neck to the nape of his head, playing with the small hairs that tickled you.

Sure, you had hugged Minho before, but nothing like this. This was holding someone in one of their darkest moments. This was fearing to speak in fear of reality coming crashing back to you. This was letting your existence speak for itself. This was your soul latching itself onto Minho’s. This was the moment you finally had to admit to yourself.

I am hopelessly and madly in love with you, Lee Minho.

After what felt like an eternity you separated yourself from him, but only enough to be able to see his face. “How about we go back to my room and sleep?” You weren’t sure what prompted you to ask that, but right now you didn’t want to be alone.

The corners of Minho’s mouth drooped as he nodded his head yes. In the span of ten minutes he had lost all his energy and you could tell he had been living off energy drinks and coffee. You knew it was hard for you, but you couldn’t imagine what it was like for Minho. Classes where you danced for an hour straight with no breaks, countless hours in the practice rooms forcing your limbs to move in this exact pattern or your whole assignment was ruined. You hated seeing him like this and hoped he would be better at taking care of himself eventually.

“Good. You can worry about your assignment tomorrow, but you need sleep, Min.” You smoothed one side of his messy hair down, heart clenching when Minho leans his head into your hand.

“Okay. Let’s go.” Minho trudged over to the computer, turning it off and unplugging his phone from the USB port. He grabbed his bag off the floor and looked to you sleepily. A hand was extended towards you and you had held hands with Minho before, but this, as did everything else that had happened recently, made you even more vulnerable.

Yet you reached out, your palm meeting Minho’s and your fingers locking together like a zipper. You hadn’t thought about just how well your hands fit with his until a silence washed over you and you were left to your own devices. Maybe your hands were always meant to find each other. Maybe this was fate saying that if the pieces fit together, it was meant to be.

The walk to your room was shrouded in silence, but you couldn’t say that you minded it. There wasn't always a need for words between you and Minho. It was like your minds connected in a way that you've never experienced with anyone else. You always joked you should never play poker together because you could tell when he was lying.

Minho held you close, except when you walked up to your dorm building, when he detached your hand from his and moved to open the door for you. Even now he was treating you like royalty. A small “thank you” left your lips as you entered the chilly front room.

You waited for Minho to walk through the door before you silently grasped his hand again, leading him towards the elevator doors. The woman at the desk watched you two, “You are just the cutest couple!” She whispered to you.

The pang in your chest was back, but you put on a smile and replied. “Thank you so much.”

In the elevator, Minho leaned more into your side. His eyes were open, but you knew he wasn’t fully coherent. He looked drained of all energy and you were scared that you might have to carry him to your room.

“Just a little bit more Min and you can sleep.” You ran your thumb over his hand lightly, smiling when Minho just tightened the grip he had.

As soon as you were in front of your room, you used the hand that wasn’t interlocked with Minho’s to get your keys out of your pocket, unlocking the door and stepping inside. You locked the door behind you, setting the keys on the table next to the door and throwing your bag in front of the couch.

You pried your hand from Minho’s only to be met with a sound of disapproval. Pulling the bag off of Minho’s shoulder, you gave him his wish and reconnected your hands, leading him to your room.

It was dark outside, so you turned on the lamp beside your bed, watching as Minho stripped himself of his shirt and looked up at you from beneath his eyelashes. “Did you happen to save any of the clothes I've left at your house back home?”

Digging through your drawer, you're met with a sound of surprise because you knew you kept some of the clothes he’s left over the years, but you didn’t know you had packed them and brought them here when you came to college. You pulled out a pair of shorts that looked like his, holding them up, “Are these okay?”

Minho nods, grabbing the shorts and walking over to the other side of the bed. He doesn't bother telling you to turn around, you're best friends, you've almost seen worse from him.

You didn't think anything of it when he immediately striped himself of his sweatpants, quickly slipping on the pants that were a little bit loose but you knew he was going to fall asleep in a snap so you didn't say anything. You also didn't think anything of it when you pulled out sleep clothes for yourself and began to strip as well. The air conditioning in your room was on full blast and you shivered slightly at the cold air against your skin. You could feel the goosebumps on your skin as you pulled your shirt and pants on, turning around to face the bed once more.

The covers were already pulled back and Minho was sitting up in your bed. His hands were resting on his stomach, fingers interlaced and thumbs tapping another rhythm. He always had that habit, always getting yelled at by teachers for tapping on the desks during tests, always having music in his head that no one else could hear.

You took a moment to admire him before smiling at him, Minho immediately mirroring that smile back to you. He opened his arms, waving both of them as if to beckon you towards him. And it always worked, you knew it would always work because you couldn’t just say no to his tired face and hopeful grin.

Climbing into bed, you moved closer to Minho, hands instinctively going around his waist. It was as if whatever deity was up above heard your thoughts, because now there was no fabric barrier between you and Minho’s torso. Your thumb pressed lightly into his side, massaging circles into whatever skin you could reach.

One of Minho’s hands went to your back and the other one rested on your arm. Sleep immediately started to creep up on you but you snapped out of it when you heard Minho utter a soft apology to you.

You sat up, body feeling cold after moving away from him. “What are you sorry for?” You asked, one of your hands not moving from rubbing circles into his side.

There was a heavy silence in the room and you were scared of what would come next. What if he wants to stop this, whatever this is. What if something is wrong?

“I’m sorry I haven't been able to treat you how you should be treated, I just wanted to show you what it was like to be treated right.” Minho’s eyes bore into your own and although you saw fatigue, you also saw a sense of sadness.

“Don’t apologize, Min. Everything you do tells me how I should be treated. You don’t have to be there for me 24/7 for me to know you are an amazing person.” You leaned forward, moving your hands to cup his cheeks. They were cold and you felt goosebumps rise on your arms. Your thumbs moved across his cheekbones and you watched as Minho closed his eyes. “Anyone would be lucky to have you as their boyfriend.”

You pulled the covers up, grabbing Minho by the shoulders and urging him to move down. “I know that once you get some sleep, you’ll feel better in the morning, okay?” You didn’t wait for him to confirm your statement and that was the last you saw of his face, because you opted for cuddling closer to him. The hand that was previously on his waist returned, your head finding purchase as it did before.

Your nose pressed into the junction of his shoulder and neck, the scent that could only be described by the name Minho much stronger now that there wasn’t any fabric in the way. “I like you just the way you are. And what you are is the best best friend I could ever ask for.”

The last thing you remember before sleep overcame you was a soft pressure on your forehead in what you could only guess was Minho’s lips, followed by him whispering. “Goodnight sweetheart.”

vi.

Since that night two weeks ago, Minho had taken to sleeping over every night.

Not that you were complaining, no, you could never complain about having your best friend and newly discovered crush (was it just a crush at this point, though?) holding you like you were fine china every night. In fact, you would rather have him there with you as opposed to waking up every morning to cold air and an empty kitchen.

Now, waking up to an empty bed was unusual. So when you opened your eyes and found your arms clutching empty air you were confused.

Checking your clock on the bedside table you saw you had an hour until Chemistry (getting the email yesterday that your English Lit class was canceled for today was a blessing) and while you debated going back to sleep wishing Minho was with you, you also were curious if he was still here.

By now you had memorized his schedule, knowing he didn't have class until later in the afternoon, so the only explanation was that he had gone to the practice room. You didn’t blame him, since that night Minho had made it his mission to walk you back to your dorm after your last class of each day. Sometimes he would go back to practice and sometimes he would just gently guide you to bed, tracing patterns on your back until you fell asleep.

You knew you were in deep and you knew it would hurt when all of this eventually stopped but for now you wanted to enjoy the way Minho said your name paired with “sweetheart”, or the way he would hold you tight but not enough to hurt you.

The smell of something cooking snapped you out of your thoughts and you pulled the covers back, feet softly sliding across the carpeted floor. You silently stood in the doorway and watched as the small stove burner was bright red. A pan sat on the burner with a pale yellow scrambled egg in it.

From this angle you could only see Minho’s back and the way his shoulder muscles rippled under his skin as he messed with the pans and plates in front of him. He looked handsome. But not in the handsome that everyone else saw. Everyone saw the dancer, the student, the friend, the guy that walked into a room and just his presence drew attention. Yes, you saw that as well, but you also saw the vulnerability, the chivalry, the deepest parts of Lee Minho that he never showed to anyone else.

That made you fall even more in love with him.

Just as you were about to interrupt the silence, Minho turned around, breaking the silence on his own. “Hey.” He said, holding up the newly made plate of eggs and bacon.

“Goodmorning, Min.” You smiled, walking towards the small table and sitting down.

“I made breakfast. I figured you could eat and then I could walk you to class.” Minho explained as he set the plate down, putting another plate in front of himself as he sat opposite to you.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” You replied, already starting to eat.

You both sat in a comfortable silence until you both had finished, leaving you to get ready for class while Minho got ready to walk you there.

As soon as you had finished getting ready you grabbed your bag and checked your phone. Ten minutes. You had ten minutes to get to class and you knew it would be busy as a lot of classes started and stopped around this time.

“Shit, we gotta go, Min. I don’t want to be late.” You grabbed your keys, quickly locking your door and grabbing Minho’s hand. At this point it was by impulse that you grabbed it and you were glad that he didn’t mind.

Before you could walk far, Minho stopped in the hall, making you turn around and face him. He grabbed your bag, slinging it over his own shoulder and smiling at you as he started walking again.

The walk there seemed like an eternity but that was only because you felt the weight of Minho’s hand in yours. In a particularly large crowd of people, Minho opted for a hand resting on your lower back so he didn’t lose you and could stay close, but when your hand was in his, you felt like you were in your own bubble. It was like nothing could affect you when you were next to him.

As you approached your classroom, you saw Chan standing at the doorway. It was weird, he never did that, opting instead to start on whatever experiment you had for the day.

His eyes caught yours in the crowd of people and they lit up. He lifted his hand to wave but his eyes wandered down to your hand that was clasped in Minho’s and his large smile lowered slightly.

“Shit.” You said, looking over at Minho who had a frown on his face.

Before you could say anything else, Minho released your hand, your bag sliding off his shoulder and finding your arms. “I’m gonna go to class. Have a good day, Y/N.” There was a melancholy tone to his voice that made you want to say something but before you knew it you had lost him in the crowd of people.

“Hey.” You said softly to Chan as you stood in front of him.

He smiled at you but you could tell it wasn’t as wide as it normally was. “Hey!”

You followed him into the room, looking at the front table where the ingredients for the days lab would be but instead seeing the teacher sitting there. On the board behind him were the big words NO LAB. LECTURE DAY.

“Oh great.” You groaned, setting your textbook down at your table and sitting down.

Chan sat next to you, his hands clasped in his lap as he stared down at his book. “So who was that?”

You knew he was referring to Minho, and you were thinking of exactly what you should say. If you said he was your boyfriend, you might not get the opportunity to date Chan but if you said he was your best friend, you could still have a chance. Through the last month, you knew just where your feelings were and you didn’t hesitate to answer him.

“That’s my boyfriend.”

His face registered shock and what you could only pinpoint as disappointed. You wished you could lie and say you wanted to be with Chan but for the second time in that month you had to admit it to yourself. You loved Minho.

“Oh, okay.” Chan nodded, looking up at the whiteboard. There was a moment of silence before he seemed to snap back to his normal cheery self. “Lecture days were specifically made by the devil himself.”

At that comment, you were back to clutching your stomach and doubling over in laughter. You quickly agreed, looking to the front of the room and seeing the teacher giving you a disapproving look. Not realizing class had started, you made a motion of zipping your mouth shut, turning to Chan and seeing him do the same.

As the lecture went on, you scribbled notes down and found yourself thinking about Minho. Yeah, Chan made you laugh and he was a dorky type of handsome that made you want to sit down and listen to his lame jokes all day long.

But Minho.. Lee Minho. He was the guy who watched you embarrass yourself in front of the whole school accepting an award in high school. He was the guy who held you tight when you cried about getting rejected by your first crush. He was the guy that told you you could do anything and everything that came to your mind. He was the guy who promised he would always be by your side through anything.

“Let’s talk about the chemistry of love.” The teacher’s voice faded back into your head, and you were intrigued to know more. “Most people don’t know that love is a chemical equation. I will go into more detail in a later lesson but the basic combination is dopamine, serotonin and oxytocin.”

You found yourself furiously scribbling everything down, hanging off his every word and worrying you were missing something. To your right, you felt Chan’s eyes focused on your face and you wanted to turn to him but you were too busy fixating on what the teacher was saying.

“Dopamine is released in the process of picking a mate and following the release of dopamine comes oxytocin, also known as the cuddle hormone. Just the simple gesture of holding someone’s hand releases oxytocin and causes a sense of attraction and what chemists then call ‘love’. Eventually, once the honeymoon phase is over chemically, meaning your body develops a tolerance to these chemicals, endorphins are released.” The teacher had his back turned, quickly writing down the full chemical compositions of these chemicals, but when he finished his sentence he slowly faced the class.

“Endorphins cause a feeling of comfort. It’s the feeling of being safe in someone’s presence, like you know they would do anything for you and vice versa.” He sat his uncapped marker on the lab table and proceeded to walk around the class, looking at every student he passed. He was silent, watching everyone (including you) try and write everything he said down.

As soon as he made his way back to his table, he began to speak again. “That, my wonderful students, is love.” There was a moment of silence before he smiled. “I will see you next week.”

You didn’t say goodbye to Chan when you left the classroom, knowing that seeing his face anymore would only make your chest ache.

Walking back to your dorm felt empty without Minho by your side. You wondered if he was busy with homework or class, deciding not to worry too much and instead thinking back to the lecture you just sat through.

The way Minho treated you for the past month had butterflies erupting in your stomach from holding your hand, carrying your books, the constant touches and the way he would follow every other sentence with “sweetheart”. You found yourself melting and constantly telling him that whomever he dated must feel like royalty.

But you also knew that even before this deal, the way Minho hugged you didn’t make you feel nervous or sweaty palmed, it made you feel safe. Whenever Minho walked into a room you felt your shoulders untense and a smile slip its way onto your face.

To you, Minho was home. He was the one you would go to with anything. He was the one that came to you with anything. You've helped him with relationship problems despite your lack of experience. He’s helped you with gym class and the history lessons you couldn’t seem to grasp.

You had been in love with Minho for a long time, yet you only seemed to notice it now.

Through your thinking you found your way to your room, unlocking it and slipping in. You went through the normal routine of setting your bag down in front of the couch, grabbing a water bottle and taking out your notebook.

Looking around, however, you noticed the surprising lack of clothes. Minho was a mess sometimes, leaving his shirts or socks on the floor, but there was not one trace of his clothes in sight. Everything looked sparkly clean, in fact, and there wasn’t any trace of Minho ever having been there.

You knew he had a spare key to your dorm and figured he just cleaned up a bit but the feeling of everything being a bit too clean couldn't be erased from your mind.

Deciding to call him to make sure everything was okay, you grabbed your phone. You saw Minho’s smiling face staring back as you tried to unlock your phone. Minho had taken a selfie and set it as your lock screen, and you made no protest, happy to be able to see his smiling face every time you wanted to unlock your phone.

He answered on the fifth ring. “Hey.” He said quietly and you were confused at his severe lack of energy.

“Are you okay, Min?” You asked him, hearing shuffling on the other side along with loud chatter of what you could only assume was students.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just on my way to class.” Minho’s voice sounded more than tired, it sounded sad.

“No, you’re not fine. I can tell.” When Minho didn’t answer you, you continued talking. “Whatever it is, you should talk about it. How about after your class? Come by my dorm, okay?”

There was a long sigh on the other line and you were worried he would decline your request but relief washed over you when he said, “Okay. I’ll see you then. Bye, Y/N.”

When you hung up, you decided to bury yourself in reading pages, trying not to think about the fact that he called you by your name, something he hadn’t done much if at all in the last month.

vii.

A knock at your door startled you off your textbook, realizing that you fell asleep with your face resting on it. You wondered who it was, knowing Minho had a key and could just let himself in.

So you were surprised to open up the door and see Minho standing there. He was wearing what he normally did after a shower, baggy sweatpants and a tank top, his hair still slightly damp and shining. For two weeks he had opted for taking a shower at your place, so why didn’t he do it now?

“Hey. Why didn’t you let yourself in?” You asked him, walking back towards the couch and closing your textbook, trying not to think of the small drool patch staining the periodic table.

Minho shrugged, his head dipping and eyes trailing on the ground. As he walked in he made sure to close and lock your door, knowing how paranoid you got. He didn’t look at you and you felt an empty feeling when he sat opposite to you on the couch, the farthest he could be.

“What’s wrong, Min? You’re worrying me.” You tried to move closer to him, putting a hand on top of his but he just pulled back, clasping his hands in his lap.

“I’m sorry.” Minho looked at you for the first time that night and you didn’t feel the warmth you normally did. There weren’t any bags under his eyes. Rather, it was like a dark cloud over his head. Before you could say anything, he interjected. “So how is Chan? Did he ask about me?”

Your stomach turned and you weren’t sure how to tell Minho you called him your boyfriend. Instead, you opted for a silent nod.

“What did you say?” Minho asked and you knew there was no way getting out of it.

“I, uh, I said you were my boyfriend.”

Silence. You felt like you wanted the couch to swallow you up.

“I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have done this.” Minho shakes his head, eyes falling back down to his clasped hands.

Your stomach sunk, not knowing how to respond. At this point, you just wanted to save your friendship because you knew you couldn’t take Minho no longer speaking to you. You tried to stutter out a response but all you got out was a mixture of “Um”s and “Uh”s.

“I’m sorry.” Minho apologized again and you stopped him before he said anything else.

“No. Don't apologize. I don’t feel that way about Chan anymore.” Although it felt like a dagger to your heart, you leaned back, farther away from Minho. “It’s not your fault Minho. If anything it’s mine.”

“Don’t say that Y/N.” Minho shook his head. “It’s my fault for letting my feelings cloud my judgement. I know it would hurt me more than help, but I wanted to express to you just how much I love you.”

Silence again, but this time you felt a spark in your stomach, warmth spread to the tips of your toes and fingers. I love you. Did he mean it like you did?

“I love you too.” You weren’t sure if you meant to say it or if your heart had a mind of its own. “I mean, I have for a long time but I think it took me a while to admit it.”

Minho looked up at you again, eyebrows disappearing behind his long fringe. His mouth hung open. “Really?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t think you felt the same but I wanted to be selfish and feel what everyone else that dated you felt. I wanted to feel loved that way.” Pausing, you asked a question that had you curious. “But if you weren’t sure I felt the same way why did you propose this idea anyways?”

“I’ve always loved you that way.” Minho moved closer to you and you felt the warmth slowly overtake your senses. “I wanted to be selfish too. I wanted to hold you like a boyfriend would and treat you like how you deserved. I just wanted to help you find someone, whether that be me or not was up to you.”

As soon as you got close enough, you reached out and cupped his cheeks with both your hands. His skin wasn’t so cold anymore, it made warmth radiate from your fingertips. “I would always choose you, Min. Always.”

Your knees knocked into Minho’s as he moved closer, and you were forced to remove your hands from his face. His nose almost touched yours and you swore you could see the entire galaxy in his eyes.

You smiled, a genuine eye-crinkling smile and Minho’s face mirrored your own. You weren't sure how his hands ended up on your waist, but you welcomed them there. His eyes searched yours, occasionally flicking to your lips. You moved your hands to his shoulders, thumbs running along his collarbones.

It seemed like an eternity before he asked you the one question you had been hoping to hear since the beginning of this idea of his.

“Can I kiss you?”

You did nothing but nod, closing your eyes and gasping when his lips finally met yours. They were slightly cold but you didn’t mind. Your hands raised to his neck, pulling him closer. Your knees hit together again but you couldn’t care less when Minho was kissing you like you were going to slip away.

Your lips moved together lightly, only leaving enough space for your breaths to mingle together in the air between you. Minho’s hand slowly traveled up your torso, stopping at your neck for him to run his thumbs along your jaw. Everything was so intimate and although you’ve only had few people to compare it to, Minho was the best kisser you had ever known.

Time seemed to halt when Minho’s hands finally settled on your cheeks and it felt like he was trying to pull you closer and if you had gotten any closer the line between you and Minho would blur. You wanted to be as close as you could to him, feel the heat from your head to your toes but right now all you felt was Minho’s soft lips moving softly against your own.

When Minho moved his lips again, tilting his head even more and letting you find a more comfortable rhythm, you smiled into the kiss. He tasted like peppermint and everything you ever could have imagined. You felt him smile against your lips as well and were forced to pull away.

“I could spend forever kissing you, sweetheart.” Minho smiled, the familiar feeling of his fingers tapping a rhythm on your waist making the warmth in you heighten.

You were breathless, but you mirrored his sentiment with a whispered. “Me too.”

There were a few beats of silence in which you threaded your fingers into his still dewy hair. Under his stare you felt nothing but comfort and love for your best friend sitting before you.

His eyes lit up even more. “I have an idea.”

You raised your eyebrows, ready to hear just exactly what he had in mind.

“Well, you’ve never been in a relationship. So why don’t I change that?” Minho’s cheeks were tinted red and he took his bottom lip in his teeth.

“You mean like real dating?” You were reminded of a month ago when he had asked you if you wanted to try out that little idea of his. But now you get the real thing.

“I guess? I didn’t think this far.” His smirk told you everything and you felt your face heat up. You chuckled, fingers carding through his hair before resting back onto his shoulders.

You didn’t need another moment to think of your answer.

“Sure. Let’s do it.”

viii.

Perhaps your Chemistry teacher was right, there was an equation for love going on in your brain as you laid in Minho's arms in your bed. He had already fallen asleep but you found yourself unable to stop smiling against his bare neck. His scent flooded your nose and you decided on another name for it. Home.

You felt safe. You felt like you could conquer the world as long as Minho was by your side. You knew no one would be able to make you feel the way Minho did as you felt his fingers slowly tapping against your waist. Soft snores came from above your head and you found your eyelids drooping. Minho’s heartbeat was the best lullaby as you drifted off to sleep.

Everyone had their own love equation and you knew yours.

seratonin + dopamine + oxytocin + endorphins = Lee Minho.

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shadow-assassin-blix · 4 years

Text

A Picture is a Poem Without Words

Chapter 5

A/N: “Talk” “Spanish” ‘Thoughts’ Alludes to some sexy times. Lots of talks about feelings on multiple parties. Javier makes a phone appearance. Felix and Amado appear for a smidge. Blix begins to show some of her dark side.

Not gonna lie. Timeline of the show is about to get wonky, I will admit. I will give fair warning when that happens. Just rearranging certain events as it were.

A few days later, and Blix was bored out of her mind. Her stitches itched. She wanted the cast off. She was tired of avoiding arguments with Diego. She honestly was two seconds away from setting the damn house on fire.

She had gone through her files 5 times, and talked with her team, who had finished up the crime scene at La Tertulia. Nothing had been stolen, just made to appear that way. It was all a trap to get them there and try to take them out. According to intel, König had figured out that the FBI was on his tail, but he didn’t know much more beyond that.

That had been two days ago. She was currently pacing the floors. Chepe often made jokes, about her being like a carnival game. One sicario was brave enough to try and throw a tennis ball at her. She had been irritated enough to throw a knife near his face, in retaliation. No one dared to do anything similar since.

She was waiting for Pacho to return from his meeting with Escobar. Something about there being an issue in LA. She usually tuned out when he heard him talk business to his associates.

While she was waiting, a doctor had apparently been called to come in and look over wounds. Her stitches were removed, as was her cast. She was told to gently exercise with it, so as to not cause the muscles to stiffen and cause her more pain.

Once he left, she had nothing to do again, but pass time. She didn’t want to read, she wasn’t hungry. If she looked at her files again, she was going to throw them in the trash.

She eventually decided to go for a swim to pass the time. She ignored some of the whispers she heard from his men as she walked by. She had many scars throughout her body; she was well aware of what they looked like.

She swam for about an hour, during which Pacho had eventually returned, irritated. His irritation did fade a bit once he looked out from the balcony attached to his office and saw Blix swimming.

Chepe stood next to him and commented, “She is quite beautiful, no?”

Pacho smirked and nodded, “She is.”

Blix finally got tired of swimming and stepped out. As she was drying off, Diego walked over to her.

“Hm. I can see the appeal. Somewhat. You are almost beautiful. The scars though, tsk,” He began, saying it lowly to her. “You know Pacho is just using you right? You know that you mean nothing to him? That once you are no longer needed, he will cut you out? Don’t get use to his attention. It won’t last.”

Blix doesn’t respond, like she usually did. She just wrapped the towel around herself and went inside.

She took a quick shower and got dressed. While everyone was distracted with Pacho’s return she moved her files and notes and took them to the garage.

She looked around for the most inconspicuous car he owned. Which wound up being a dark green corvette, a convertible. She walked over to the wall that held the keys and found the one labeled Corvette. She grabbed them and unlocked the driver side door, reaching over and setting her files down onto the passenger seat.

When she straightened up, she jumped as she sees Chepe standing next to her.

“Trying to make the great escape eh?” Chepe teased, leaning against the car.

“I just need some air. Away from here. I am tired of being stuck here,” She quietly admitted, with a sigh. “Does Pacho know I’m out here?”

“No. I saw you sneak this way by chance. If you want to go out, I can take you, if you would like?” He offered politely.

She looked down, annoyed, and honestly exasperated. She had a quick thought; she wasn’t sure if it would work.

“Okay. Do you mind running in to get me a drink then? I don’t wanna risk running into Diego again,” She quietly pleaded. “A soda please?”

“Sure. I can do that, Little Lady,” Chepe answered, calling her the nickname that some of the guys had begun to call her.

He walked away and once he gotten a little bit away from her, she jumped in the car and locked the door. She quickly started it as Chepe, made his way back over to try and get her out. He was too slow, and she drove off thankful that each car had its own garage opener.

She drove past the guards and made her way out onto the lonely road that lead back to Cali.

As Chepe stood there, chuckling, Pacho wandered in. “What’s going on?”

“Little bird flew the nest. She apparently needed to get away for a while,” Chepe replied before turning around to go back into the house. “Let her have a day to herself Pacho. Also. Might want to talk Diego. I believe he may have said something to her again.”

“She took my favorite. A little concern about that,” He mumbled to himself, a hand rubbing over his chin nervously.

Chepe laughed at that, as they both made their way back to Pacho’s office. An hour later they finished business, and Pacho requested for Diego to come see him.

A moment later Diego appeared before him.

“My love. Why must you constantly be at odds with her?” Pacho asked sitting at his desk.

“Why did you even bring her here? Why are you even bothering with her? She said it herself, the deal the brothers want, won’t matter until Escobar is out of the picture. Why keep her around?” Diego rapid fired his questions in response.

“I like her. Simple as that. I brought her here to take care of her while she healed. I keep her around, because I enjoy talking to her. I know my answers may upset you. But you also seem to think that I’m replacing you with her, and that’s not true,” He answered truthfully, looking him in the eyes.

“I still love you Diego. She’s not taking me away from you. In fact, I’m quite certain I’ve spent most of this week with you. In your arms. Not hers. So why do you continue to belittle her?” He continued as he stood before Diego and pulled him close.

Diego looked away, and felt a small amount of guilt as he reflected over the comments he said to her.

“I will… try to tolerate her more. I make no promises. But I will stop trying to goad her into an argument,” Diego conceded.

“Thank you. That’s all I want,” Pacho said pressing a kiss to Diego’s lips. “Now, I have to go find her, and make sure she’s okay. You owe her an apology by the way.”

Diego rolled his eyes slightly but nodded his head.

Back with Blix, she had finally arrived home, parking the corvette gently in front of her home. She grabbed her stuff out of the seat, and went inside, sighing in relief at the sight of her home.

She set her files down in her office alongside her sat phone. She checked on the food in her fridge, some of which had spoiled so she tossed it out. She decided then that she wanted to go to the store and get her own groceries.

She did just that, the store she liked was only two blocks down, so she walked to it. She grabbed a couple of different meats to make meals with, and then she got a lot of junk food. Once she was done getting what she needed between food and personal hygiene items, she checked out. Her trip took about 40 mins, but it made her feel a lot better already.

While she enjoyed being at Pacho’s home, she was often left to her own devices, and her movements were restricted around the house, depending on where he had his meetings.

She quite frankly grew bored, and while she tried to strike up conversation with the men around the house, they often avoided her. Whether it was because she was a federal agent or because Pacho ordered them to not speak with her, she wasn’t sure. Either way, she simply couldn’t do much.

She returned to her house and put away everything. She called up Jacque to see if she could come into work that night. He very enthusiastically told her yes. So, she got ready, dressing up in a black halter top mini dress, with a simple v-neck. It’s straps and bodice were lace-y, the skirt ending just above mid-thigh, and flowy. She slipped on her black strappy high heels.

She did some simple makeup, lip-gloss, and a bit of eyeshadow. She thought about walking to work, but then she stared at the lovely little corvette before her. She grabbed her purse, making sure her house keys were in it, along with some cash, her IDs and such before she snatched the car keys. ‘It’s such a pretty car. I mean it should be admired, should it not?’

She drove to work, smiling. When she got to work, she greeted Jacque and the waitresses. The official story for them was that she was in a car crash. So, they all came up to check on her, and made sure she was okay.

She told them she was fine, and ready to get back to normal. The night went on like it normally did, locals in the beginning, before switching to the younger crowd.

Her head at one point did begin to pound, and she had to take a seat while she worked, because she felt a bit lightheaded.

Jacque eventually sent off on her break, and as she made her way over to the familiar taco truck, she felt a bit exhausted. She didn’t have too much time to think on it as a small force ran into her, arms wrapping around her tightly.

“Miss Bee! You’re okay. We were so worried! I -We missed you!” Came the small voice of Paulo.

She hugged him back once she regained her bearings. “Hi honey. Yes. I’m okay. I missed you too.”

She stepped forward as Paulo talked her ear off, catching her up on the local and familial drama.

“Slow down for a moment honey. I gotta order,” Blix said, trying to get him to pause for a moment. “Hello Henri. How are you?”

“I’m good little fox. I’m happy to see you out and about. Are you sure you’re okay to be working already?” Henri asked concern, looking her over.

“I’m fine. I may see about heading out early. My head is aching. But uh.. I would like the steak burrito, please?” She assured before placing her order.

“Oh? Who upset you honey?” He asked as he began to make it.

“Why do you ask that? It’s just a burrito,” Blix protested.

“You don’t order the burrito, unless you are feeling upset. It’s a part of your quirks. Steak tacos on normal days, chicken quesadillas when you have strange cravings, cause you tend to dunk them in whatever sauce is available, and burritos when you’re really upset by something,” He listed out as he cooked.

She stared at him in surprise, blinking slowly. “I… I don’t know what to say that.”

“As I said, it’s just something I noticed over the past year. By the way this is on the house,” he noted as he began assembling the burrito.

A moment later, he hands her the burrito wrapped in some aluminum foil, and a couple of napkins. He then puts out a sign saying that he’s gone on break and comes outside.

He beckons her over to one of the picnic tables, and tells Paulo to go inside, that he can catch up later.

Blix made her way over to him, hopping up to sit on the tabletop, as she took a bite of her burrito.

“Alright, lil fox, what’s going on?” Henri began, gently nudging her with his shoulder.

“I seem to have the worst taste in men,” She began softly.

“This guy I’m… dating? Sleeping with? I don’t really know what exactly it is, he… he has… a partner, who… doesn’t care for me too much, is the nice way to put it,” She slowly explained trying to take care in her words.

“I knew he had this partner from the beginning, or rather I suspected it. That’s not my problem. The problem is… I have spent the past week, being goaded and taunted by this other person, because of my looks,” She stated with a sigh, staring down at her food dejectedly. “Often times, I can ignore what people say about me. But this past week, has really done a number on me.”

“Is the man you are seeing aware of the comments, and insults?” Henri asked after a moment.

“Yes. He knows…about some of it. I gave up after the third day of it, and his partner giving no shits about what he says,” She confessed. “The thing is, I spent years… years… trying to get over my scars. There was a large portion of my life where I would spend an hour every morning, putting on makeup to cover them up.”

“What made you stop doing that?” He asked curiously.

“My friend in Bogota. He… he was the first guy who looked at me, sans makeup, and didn’t flinch. He told me that I looked like a goddess. Athena in human form. It was the sincerest compliment I had ever gotten in years. I stopped caring after that,” She answered with a fond smile, thinking of Javier.

“Sounds like a good man. Why aren’t you with him then?” Henri wondered with a chuckle.

Blix laughed in response, before replying, “Because the man is terrified of commitment.”

“Ahh. Okay then,” He responded, nodding his head. “It sounds to me however, that you need to talk to your other suitor. If this relationship is to continue, all of you have to be on the same page. Being outed by his other significant other, is not fair to you.”

“I… I don’t know anymore, Henri. Feels like I shouldn’t even bother with it anymore. Not gonna lie, I kind of ran off on him today. Just… couldn’t deal with it anymore. Maybe I am just meant to be alone,” She shrugged, before taking a large bite to distract herself.

“Now, that sounds like giving up. I didn’t take you for a quitter,” He lightly admonished. “Take some time to yourself. The next time you see him, if your heart starts to race, or you feel butterflies in your stomach, then that’s worth pursuing. It means his mere presence makes you happy.”

She smiled softly at that and nodded her head. She continued eating, the two of them talking for a while longer, before the both of them had to return to work.

She worked for another hour before leaving early. Her head was pounding, and she felt exhausted. She sat in the driver’s side of the car, resting her eyes for a moment. The lightheadedness had return as well. She heard a tap on her door, and she rolled the window down and sees Diego standing there.

“Move over to the next seat. I’ll take you home. Pacho is waiting for you there,” Diego softly ordered.

She stared at him in suspicion first, before slowly crawling over the center console, and sitting in the passenger seat. He gets in and started the car, after making sure she was secured in her seat.

“I’m… sorry.” Diego suddenly stated after a minute.

“Wow. Did that taste like vinegar coming out of your mouth?” She asked bitterly.

“Yes. It did actually,” He answered shortly.

“Thanks. I guess. You know… that I’m not trying to take him from you, right? If… when… he decides he doesn’t want me anymore, I’ll go. I’m not… here to ruin what the 2 of you have,” She quietly commented, staring out the window.

“I know…,” He responded. “Though… I have a feeling that you are going to be around for long time. The last girl he was with, he never brought her to the house. Never got her flowers. He likes you, that much I can tell. Which was why… I got territorial. Which was unwarranted. I can’t say that we will be best friends, but I will try to be less of an ass.”

“Okay. That works. Was Pacho pissed that I took his car?” She asked wanting to change the subject.

“Pissed? Concerned is more like it. This is his favorite. His baby,” Diego snorted, as they pulled up to her house.

“Oops.” She said quietly, a small snicker slipping out.

As the car came to a stop, she stepped out to see Pacho, waiting for her on the steps. He looked up at her, as she stepped forward. As his eyes locked onto hers, she felt her heart race a bit. ‘Damnit, Henri.’

She gently stepped passed him to unlock her door and walked inside without saying anything to him.

She made her way to her kitchen to get a glass of water, and some pain medicine. She swallowed the meds quickly before chugging down some water. When she finished, she noticed Pacho standing before her.

“Diego told me…everything. We spoke earlier. Hopefully, now we can all live somewhat peacefully with one another,” Pacho began.

As much as she wanted to believe that, her doubts and insecurities threatened to raise their ugly heads. She leaned against the kitchen counter behind her, gazing at the kitchen tile. Pacho moved to stand before her, and gently cupped her face with his hands, silently asking her to look up.

She does so slowly, hesitantly, biting her lip nervously.

“What’s the matter, my sweet?” He asked concerned.

“Diego… he made some points though. There is no need for you to dote over me when I’ve already agreed to do what you want. Your deal is as good as done, once the brothers have typed it up. So, why bother with me?” She questioned, her tone serious.

“I dote over you because I wish to. How many times do I have to tell you, that I find you absolutely gorgeous? Extremely breathtaking? A goddess? I’m with you, because I like you,” He praised. “Maybe I am being somewhat selfish in that I also want to learn about your every secret. Your beautiful, and charming. Smart. Witty. You have a dark side to you, that intrigues me greatly. Why wouldn’t I want to be with you?”

He doesn’t allow her to answer as he pressed his lips to her. Her hands slowly wrapped around his back, as one of his slid down her side.

“This dress is sexy, but... I feel like it’ll look better on the floor,” He whispered against her lips.

His hand on her side, grabbed a handful of her dress, bunching it up as he began to pull at it.

They continued to kiss until they were gasping for breath and had to pull away.

“I want you to come with me to meet with the Gallardo. We’ll be going to Panama. It’ll just be me and a few others,” Pacho requested in a whisper.

“Why? What do you need me for?” She quietly asked, curious.

“I want you by my side. Simple as that,” Pacho answered. “What do you say?”

She started to answer when her phone rang. “Hold that thought.” She said pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Hello?” She spoke into the kitchen phone.

“Hey. It’s me,” Came Javier’s voice.

“Hi. What’s up? It’s like 1am,” She said with concern.

“We got Gacha. Earlier today. We… we killed him,” He announced with a sigh.

“What? Oh my god! That’s… that’s amazing!” She congratulated. “But uh… shouldn’t you be out celebrating? Drinking? Sex with a random woman?”

As she spoke, Pacho came up behind her, and pressed kisses to the back and side of her neck.

“Thought about it… but uh… didn’t quite feel like it, I guess. I mean. I have been drinking, just not at a bar,” He responded, somewhat hesitantly.

“Javi. What’s wrong? This is a win. One step closer to Escobar, yeah?” She contended, somewhat confused by his tone.

“I uhh. Do you… do you ever think about us?” Javi inquired.

She sighed at that question, while also attempting to get Pacho to stop with his ministrations that were slowly getting bolder. His hand had slipped under her skirt and were softly massaging her inner thigh.

“How much have you had to drink Javi?” She questioned.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Javier asked back, offended.

“You don’t talk about feelings. Unless you’ve had a few. Remember, that’s how you broke up with me? Got shitfaced and told me that you saw our relationship heading nowhere,” She replied somewhat bitterly.

“…. What if I said that I was lying? That I do see something with you?” Javi inquired after a moment.

“I’d say that I would rather have this conversation when you’re sober and in front of me. Listen. Go sleep honey. I’m proud of you. Call me when you’re sober,” She answered before slowly hanging up.

She gently leaned back into Pacho’s chest with a heavy sigh. “Is Diego still outside?”

“No. Sent him home with Navegante,” Pacho murmured as he slowly began to unzip the back of her dress.

She pulled away then and began walking toward the stairs. “Good. Come upstairs then.”

He followed behind her and as they stepped into her room, she kicked off her shoes. She stepped into her bathroom for a moment to wash off her makeup before anything else.

When she stepped back out into her room, Pacho was sitting on her bed, sans shoes and socks. She slowly slipped the dress off from around her shoulders, before doing a little wiggle as she pulled it down her hips.

She stood in front of him in just her underwear and straddled his hips a moment later. She stared at the shirt he wore, a shirt that was 3 different colors. Not exactly the best looking in her opinion.

“How much… do you like this shirt?” She coyly asked, pulling at the collar with an index finger.

“It’s… alright. Why?” He inquired squinting his eyes at her in suspicion.

She simply reached over to her bedside table, and after a momentary struggle of trying to find it blindly, she found her pocketknife. She flipped it opened and gently held it at the collar of his shirt. She bit her bottom lip softly as she held his shirt firmly in her left hand. She dragged the knife down, the blade slowly ripping the fabric.

Once there was a decent tear in the shirt, she set the knife back down on the table. She then began to pull at the tear, firmly, shredding the shirt down the middle.

The entire time that was going on, Pacho watched her curiously, and was only slightly concerned when she pulled out the knife.

“So, I take it, you didn’t like the shirt?” Pacho joked once she had finished shredding it and was shoving it off his shoulders.

“It’s… it was ugly honey. I’m sorry. But… you can pull off many looks, but this… This is a no,” She slowly responded pressing a small kiss along his collar.

He laughed loudly at her response and just nodded his head. “Understandable. Just know that I can and will get you back for it. Though I will agree. It wasn’t my best.”

She giggled and sighed before sadly stating, “I’m… super tired… I would love to continue this, but I may pass out on you.”

“It’s okay. We can do some catching up in Panama if you wish?” Pacho offered kissing her slowly.

“Yeah. I like the sound of that,” She agreed before getting up to go grab an old band t-shirt to put on and take off her bra.

She could hear Pacho undressing further as well, and once she was in the shirt and her underwear, she turned to see him in just his boxers. They slipped under the covers, and Pacho quietly told her about his day, laying on his side, his head propped up on his arm. When he mentioned the horse ranch she froze.

“Wait. You… you have a ranch… with… with horses???? And you… never told me?” She asked with wide eyes staring at him.

“Yes. Would you like me to take you there sometime this week?” Pacho asked surprised.

“Uh. Yes! I love horses! Grandparents had a horse ranch, and it was the best part of my summers as a kid,” She explained excitedly. “If I had known about the ranch, I wouldn’t have gotten bored. I’d been harassin’ you to take me every day.”

He smiled sadly at her, and he apologized softly, “I’m sorry you got bored. Not going to lie, I’m used to women who love sitting around and doing nothing.”

His hand softly stroked her side as he spoke. She smiled in response, reaching up to run her hand along his jaw.

“It’s not a big deal honey. I’ve been told I’m like a husky, need to be walked 15 times a day or I’ll lose my mind,” She lightly joked.

“Then I’ll make sure you have plenty to do,” Pacho assured as he pulled her closer to him.

She snuggled into his chest, and they slowly fell asleep together.

The next morning, was a blur as they got dressed and ate a quick breakfast. She definitely packed up all her snacks, because she refused to leave her junk food behind.

As they stepped outside, her neighbor, Mrs. Garcia, said hello. She waved at her distractedly as Pacho opened the car door for her.

As they drove out to his house, he mentioned that she could have a car to claim as her own to use. “Just not this one. This one is… special.”

They spent the day at his house and planned a time to go see the horse ranch the next day. It was going to be in the afternoon, once Gilberto and Miguel left after their meeting.

The day passed normally, there were no arguments between her and Diego. They even had pleasant conservations throughout the day.

The next morning was a bit chilly, and she threw on a large fleece cardigan over her shorts and tank. As she walked around, she ran into Navegante and politely asked if the brothers had arrived yet.

Navegante informed her, “Yes, they’ve been here for about an hour now.”

She nodded her head in understanding before making her way into the kitchen. She made herself a cup of tea with honey, before grabbing 3 more cups and filling them with black coffee. She threw sugar packets into one pocket of her cardigan and different flavors of creamer packs into the other.

She made her way upstairs, gradually, and into Pacho’s office. The three were standing around the table pouring over a map. She cleared her throat to alert their attention to her.

“Sorry to interrupt. Thought some fresh coffee might help?” She offered holding them up.

Pacho smiled somewhat tightly but said thank you. She sets the cups down, pulling out the packets of sugar and creamer as her hands became free.

She glanced down at the map, which was of Mexico, and found herself looking at it confused. Most of Mexico was marked off into sectors; the various different territories. Everywhere except one place.

“Guadalajara, yes?” She confirmed without much thought. “Why is the Baja not marked off?”

Miguel cleared his throat before answering, “Guerra. Opium dealer. He owns the Baja. Doesn’t like cocaine.”

“But Gallardo’s probably made him offer right?” She guessed looking at all 3 of them.

“Yes. He probably has why?” Pacho questioned.

“You said it yourself. Gallardo’s arrogant. Probably thinks that if he controls all of Mexico, he has you in a checkmate,” Blix began to explain. “Make Guerra a better offer. Or as Marlon Brando would say, ‘Make him an offer he can’t refuse.’ It’s what I would do.”

Gilberto smirked at her before grabbing his phone and handing it and a number on a post-it note.

“Then do it.” His tone was challenging, like he was daring her.

She took both from him slowly, took a deep breath, and called the number. ‘I’m being tested. Well. Let’s see how I do then.”

The phone rang for a moment before someone finally answered.

“Hello, may I speak to Mr. Guerra please?” She politely requested.

“Mr. Guerra isn’t available righ-“ the man began before Blix cut him off.

“Listen. As someone who is clearly an overpaid secretary, I’m calling bullshit. Please tell Guerra that a representative of the Cali Cartel wishes to speak to him. Now,” She informed him firmly.

A few minutes passed before another voice, older and gravellier, answered, “Guerra speaking. How may I help you?”

“Hello. My name is Blix. My… associates have heard rumors that Gallardo offered to bring you into the cocaine business, yes?” She began and before letting him answer continued. “We wish to make you a better offer?”

“Oh? Is that so? What could you possibly offer me?” Guerra inquired sounding somewhat agitated.

“I’m willing to bet that Gallardo only offered about 10% of the profits. We’d like to give you something a little more than chump change,” She offered as she leaned against the table, taking a sip of her tea.

“50%” Guerra stated.

“Guerra. I may have been born at night, but it certainly wasn’t last night. 50% is too high and you know it. Don’t insult my intelligence,” She lightly warned. “20%”

“Hm. 40%” He threw back.

“30%.” She responded hoping to trick him into going lower

“25%.” He threw out before he tried to take it back, stumbling over his words. “N-Wa-“

“Deal.” She confirmed before he could say anything. “One of my associates will be in contact with you to iron out the details, within the next day or so.”

“You are a good businesswoman, I must say. It’s not often I fumble over a deal,” Guerra complimented.

“For some reason, I just don’t believe that. You knew I wasn’t going to go much higher than 20, you just wanted to see if you could get me to agree to something higher,” She responded ignoring the compliment. “I would also like to inform you Mr. Guerra, that you should forget about your travel plans to Panama. Wouldn’t want to cause any… conflicts of interest.”

“Ah. An intelligent woman indeed. Good, you’ll need that while working with the cartel,” He stated. “Gallardo isnt going to be pleased by this.”

“Gallardo isn’t my concern. Do know this Mr. Guerra. Gallardo will probably at some point retaliate. He’s a prideful man. It’s in his nature. But what he does to you, will be nothing in comparison to what we will do if you try to betray us,” She cautioned.

“Are you… are you threatening me?” He accused.

“No. Warning. Because... Gallardo will take revenge, sure. But Cali? No. Revenge is petty. Beneath us,” She stated darkly. “Accidents however… Accidents can and do happen every day. Like… fires, gas leaks, that sort of thing can happen anywhere, like at your restaurant, your home/ranch, that shitty lil town you’ve proclaimed yourself as king, or your acres of opium. Would be such a shame… if anything happened to your livelihood.”

It was quiet, but she could hear him breathing, “Understood.”

“Good! As I said, earlier, someone will be in touch to finetune the details. Have a lovely day, Mr. Guerra,” She ended the call with a perky tone.

She handed the phone back to Gilberto and said, “That wasn’t too hard. Enjoy your coffees.”

She walked away with her tea, toward her room, to get dressed for the afternoon.

Pacho watched her leave with an impressed smirk plastered on his face, his eyes dark as he watched her leave.

“Did that… really just happen?” Miguel asked in disbelief.

“It did indeed. I told you. She has a darkness to her, and I love seeing it,” Pacho grinned, lighting a cigarette. “It was also her way of speeding up the meeting so we can go to the ranch.”

The brothers laughed and soon enough their meeting had ended. As soon as it was over, he walked down to Blix’s room. He leaned against the door-jam as he watched her get ready. She was slipping on a pair of cowboy boots when she noticed him standing there.

“Oh? Done so soon?” She greeted happily, walking over to him.

As she stepped up to him, he pulled her close and kissing her passionately.

“Wow. What uh… what was that for? Not that I’m complaining,” She wondered breathlessly, when they pulled apart a moment later.

“You are very sexy. Even moreso when threatening men. Couldn’t help myself,” He whispered to her.

She shook her head at him before excitedly asking, “So the ranch? Horses?”

He nodded, laughing at her as she bounced up and down in front of him, like a child.

They made their way down to his car, and off they went to the ranch. The ranch was only 20 minutes from his home and as they pulled up her excitement ramped up.

She was out the door before he could even turn the car off. She rushed up to the stalls and began excitedly talking to both the horses and the stable hands that were working.

Pacho slowly walked up behind her and listened to her coo to the horses as she ran her hands down their faces.

They spent several hours there, half of it spent with her in awe of each horse, and the other half was her riding around the stables on some of the horses.

Lunch was served late there, and as they ate, he commented, “If I had known the ranch would make you so happy, I would’ve brought you sooner. Don’t think I’ve seen you smile so much.”

“I smile? What do you mean?” She asked confused as she looked at him taking a sip of the daiquiri that he insisted on making her.

“I mean, that since the second we pulled up, you haven’t stopped smiling. You smiled even when Rowdy tried to eat your shirt. It’s quite beautiful to see you so happy,” He further explained with a fond smile.

She looked down, a light blush gracing her cheeks.

“You mentioned last night that your grandparents had a ranch? What happened there?” Pacho asked curiously.

“The short story? My grandparents died, and my mother didn’t want to deal with it,” She explained quietly as looked away.

“And the long story?” Pacho lightly probed, his hand reaching out to hold hers.

“My sisters and I… we loved it. It was the best 2 to 3 weeks of our summer. Spending our time at the ranch. Training horses. My grandfather had show and race horses. We would trade off each day on who we would work with on what.” She began thinking about to it fondly.

“When they died, my mother wanted nothing to do with it. Sold off the horses. Fired the workers. Cut down the apple orchard we had opened for the public to go apple picking. The barns have been hit hard with storms, and my mother didn’t care to fix them. If she could she would’ve sold the land as well,” She explained rather sadly.

“Why didn’t she?” Pacho inquired.

“Grandparents left it in their will that the ranch was to go to us. That when we were old enough, we could decide who would run it. That the land could only be sold by us if we all agreed to. So, my mother found a loophole around it. Can’t have much of a ranch if there’s nothing there,” She concluded with a half shrug.

“I’m sorry your mother stole that from you and your siblings,” Pacho consoled as he lifted her hand to press a kiss to it.

She didn’t respond beyond shrugging and letting out a small sigh.

“So. Tonight we leave for Panama yeah?” Blix changed the subject.

He nodded his head, and reported, “Yes. We leave on a late flight, check into our hotel, and then meet with Gallardo tomorrow at noon. In fact, we should probably head back, and pack up.”

They did just that, got home, packed, and she met a few other members, like Salcedo, and a couple of guards going with them.

The flight to Panama was swift, and soon they were in their hotel room, resting. Morning came around, and as they made their way to the hotel where Gallardo was at, Pacho made a quick explanation.

“When we get there, if you could please wait downstairs for 20 minutes. I doubt the meeting shall take very long, but I would prefer it if you did not get involved any more than you have. I’ll have a guard with you, just go shopping or something. I’ll come retrieve you,” He informed her as they pulled up to the hotel.

She raised an eyebrow and decided she wasn’t going to argue about this, right now. She got out and with her newly grown shadow in the form of a 30 something year old man named Thierry; she wandered the shops.

She came across a jewelry store and waltzed in, looking at everything bored. Something eventually caught her eye as she made her way over to the men’s jewelry.

As she looked at it, a small smile grew on her face. A store assistant came over and asked if he could help her.

“Yes. Can I see that necklace please?” She politely asked pointing at it.

He reached in and grabbed the necklace, displaying it in the palm of his hand.

She inspected it closely and hesitantly said, “Umm. That necklace has a small scratch on it… would there happen to be anything similar to it?”

A manager happened to be walking by and overheard the conversation. He inspected the necklace and spotted the imperfection before telling the employee to put it with the discount items somewhat annoyed.

“Come this way ma’am. I’m sure this one over here will please you greatly,” He schmoozed in a hoity manner, giving her a look.

He brought her over to another display case and pulled out a similar necklace. She nodded her head, stating ”Yeah. This one is much better. How much?”

“$647.32. In American dollars.” He answered in a mockingly sad tone.

She reached into her bag and pulled out the envelope that her tips from the brothers in it. She counted out 650 and told him to keep the change. He tightly smiled and boxed it up before handing it to her.

She rolled her eyes at his attitude and made her way back out to her guard.

“Just because your item got fucked up, doesn’t mean you need to get all snooty about it,” She muttered under her breath annoyed.

She continued exploring, getting slowly more and more annoyed with her babysitter, since he kept trying to steer her over to the elevators. She eventually made her way through a large crowd and lost him after a moment.

She noticed as she walked further on that there was an art auction going on in one of the conference rooms that was open to the public.

As she strolled that way, she ran into 2 men, one of whom she had seen pictures of.

“Mr. Gallardo. That was quick, I hope Pacho wasn’t too cruel with you,” She greeted as she blinked at him.

“No. Not at all miss?” He prompted.

“Blix. I hear you enjoy art; would you like to join me in viewing the auction?” She politely asked before turning to the other man with him. “Hello. You can join us as well Mr.?”

“Amado. I’ll just.. wait here. Thanks.” He declined with a nod of his head.

Felix and she made their way into the auction and began looking over the art. Blix stared at some items with intensity, and Felix who did look at the art, was more intrigued by the woman next to him.

“So, you are with the Cali? A bit odd for a federal agent, no?” Felix questioned, looking at her curiously.

“Hm. It’s… an interesting arrangement let’s just go with that. Besides. They are not my concern. Not my division as it were,” She replied meeting his eyes.

“Yes. I heard you were in art crimes,” Felix acknowledged as they made their way through a section of impressionist art.

“Yes. Art is quite fascinating. Horace once said that a picture was a poem without words,” Blix noted. “That picture in my opinion can mean anything. There’s always something that speaks to you. Whether it’s religious, political, or personal. Art is a reflection of you.”

They stopped near a canvas that had a weeping willow tree, the vines covered in ice.

“Take this for example. To you it’s simply a tree. To me… it reminds me of my childhood home. We had willows everywhere,” She said as an example. “Art, no matter the format, is an extension of you. Extension of your personality.”

He smiled at her and nodded, and before he could respond, they heard a throat clear behind them. As they turned to it, Pacho stood there, with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Uh-oh. It appears I’m in trouble. It was a pleasure to meet you Mr. Gallardo,” She whispered conspiratorially holding her hand out to shake.

He took it and instead of shaking it, kissed the back of it. “The pleasure was mine. I do hope Mr. Herrera brings you out to our meetings more often.”

He walked away and met up with Amado, before disappearing.

Blix quietly followed Pacho who she could tell was fuming. His shoulders were tensed, and he was breathing roughly.

They made their way back to their hotel in silence. They even left that night instead of staying like they originally planned.

As they stepped over the threshold of his home, she finally broke the tension, “Are you going to stay mad at me forever? Or are you going to finally tell me what’s wrong?”

“I had the guard with you for a reason. He was there to protect you. Instead of doing what I asked you not only ignored it, but put yourself onto Gallardo’s radar, for no reason” He fumed, glaring at her.

“I am a federal agent. I can take care of myself. I do not need a guard or protection. I can protect myself quite well. Been doing so for a very long time,” She reminded him.

“As for Gallardo, I ran into him by accident. I didn’t seek him out. I figured he knew who I was, which he did, and I was just being polite. That’s it,” She reassured.

He took a deep breath, looking away. “I don’t like you putting yourself in unnecessary danger. If he had decided to retaliate against me, using you…”

She stepped up to him, placing her hands on his chest, and soothed, “But he didn’t. I’m still here. Annoyed that we didn’t stay in Panama, especially after I got you something, but still here.”

He placed his hands on her hips, and said, “Oh? You did? What?”

“Not giving it to you now. You were a brat. I’ll give it to ya when you’ve earned it,” She teased as she walked away.

Pacho raised an eyebrow at that comment and chased after her, grabbing her around the waist and throwing her over his shoulder.

“A brat eh? Takes one to know I think,” Pacho mocked, smacking her on the ass.

“Really? Did you seriously just?” She asked in disbelief, before smacking his butt in return. “Turnabout is fair play.��

He carried her upstairs, both of them laughing at each other, before he decided to make it up to her all night long.

A few days had passed, and she still had yet to give Pacho the necklace she got him. He was convinced it was a watch. It wasn’t until a package arrived for her at Pacho’s house that she decided to give him the gift. Especially when she realized that the gift was from Gallardo. It was the painting of the willow tree that they had looked at together.

The painting came with a note, “It was a pleasure speaking you, my lady. I hope we can talk more soon.”

Pacho was annoyed by its presence. So, she pulled out the velvet box that held his necklace in it, hoping it would soothe things over.

He was sitting in at his desk in his office when she walked in. She moved over to him and gently sat in his lap, presenting the box to him. He opened it slowly.

“A crocodile?” Pacho questioned confused.

“I don’t know jackshit about watches, so don’t ever expect one from me. But I do know that in most ancient cultures, the crocodile is one of the few animals that was revered. They’ve been worshipped longer than God. Deified for well over a millennium,” She began to explain as she took it out of the box.

“They represent duality. Tough enough to withstand bullets, but do not do well with criticism. They are precise with every move they make and see opportunities where others cannot. They are cunning, strong, brave, and dependable. That’s what I see when I look at you,” She described as she hooked it around his neck.

“So, my primordial being, do not bother yourself with the opinions of sheep or the thoughts of lesser men. I certainly don’t,” She requested with a kiss. “I want you to wear it for good luck. Protection.”

Her phone at that point began to ring, and she stared at the number slightly confused, for she did not recognize it. She answered it after a moment. “Hello?”

“Hello Miss Lage. This is Felix Gallardo,” Came the response.

“Oh. Mr. Gallardo, how are you?” She replied turning to Pacho with a wide eye look. His returning look was with narrowed eyes, and a tense jaw.

“I simply wanted to make sure that painting arrived safely,” He informed softly.

“Yes. Yes, it did. I was hoping to be able to thank you in person, but this works too. It’s quite lovely,” She thanked, wondering where this was heading.

“Good. I must say, I was a bit hesitant to get it for you, since you looked at it so sadly, but then I saw a glimmer of something, that… I could relate to,” Felix admitted. “I saw a longing. For home. I often get that way myself thinking about Sinaloa.”

“Home? Not necessarily. Simpler times, more like. Haven’t missed home in quite some time,” She lightly argued.

“Hm. It is rather interesting, though. The things we would do for those we consider home. Safe. Like threatening an opium dealer to cut a deal for your lover. Guerra said he spoke to a charming young lady. Would hate for anything to befall said lady, for sticking her nose into business she does not belong in,” He vaguely threatened.

“Well. Mr. Gallardo. I would simply say that I can take care of myself. I’ve dealt with plenty of villains, Felix, and I hate to break it to you, but I’ve faced scarier. Have a lovely day,” She hung up the phone after that.

“Villains? You mean… your mother?” Pacho tried to clarify.

“Let’s just say, ruining a ranch, was nowhere the worst thing she ever did to me,” She whispered vaguely gesturing at her face.

“I see. Well then. I guess it’s a good thing you are mine. Anyone tries to harm you, they’d be dead,” He promised after a moment of silence, fully understanding what she was implying.

She smiled sweetly at him, and they spent the rest of the day talking about his work. He was giving her a glimpse into his world and how it worked. That to her was a level of trust she wasn’t expecting, but she appreciated it, nonetheless.

Neither of them were aware of the chaos that was about to unfold, due to the events going on in Medellin.

#pacho herrera #pacho herrera x oc #narcos #slight narcos mexico #slight javier x oc

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v-hope · 5 years

Text

They have feelings for you but you like/date another idol

Pairings: OT7 x Reader

Genre: Angst

Request by @incrediblybiased: "I've got a reaction idea- the BTS guy who's your friend and has a crush on you, but you've just been asked out by someone from another group."

Kim Seokjin

Jin had pictured this moment to be different. Very different.

You see, two months ago you told him the great news about your group joining Stray Kids on tour, and although he was the happiest for you, he couldn't help but be disappointed, for he had wanted to confess his feelings for you by the end of that week and he felt then like waiting until you came back would be the best option.

So now, as he waited with everyone else at the welcome party that was being thrown for your group and the one you had gone on tour with for you to arrive, he thought you'd enter the door and you'd lock eyes with him, going straight to hug him and then… then he'd take you out of the crowded place and into a more private one, where he would finally pour his heart out to you.

That was what he had truly believed would happen.

Instead, what he got was his heart sinking the second you entered the room – hand in hand with no other than Bang Chan, and gazing up at him like Jin had never seen you look at anyone else before.

Your eyes did lock with his like he had planned... after you removed them from the other guy. You did go to hug him... after you let go of the other boy's hand. And then? Then you called said guy to go over by your side, placing your hand lovingly on Chan's shoulder as you introduced him as your boyfriend, and Seokjin... Seokjin having to fake a smile and act as if his heart did not break a little further when you introduced him as your best friend.

Not confessing when he had first planned to would be for the longest time his biggest regret.

Min Yoongi

Yoongi fucking hated timing.

It had been you the first one to catch feelings. Back in your teenage years, when he felt nothing but platonic love for you. He knew. And you knew he knew. That being the reason you decided to say nothing and get over him instead.

Now, eight years later, the tables had turned.

He knew you had successfully moved on from your feelings for him back then, but he had been willing to make you fall for him once again.

Only to be hit with the hard reality one night.

You had suddenly started brushing off his invitations to his studio for over a month now, and there was this one song he really wanted to show you – one he had written for you. That being the reason he decided to call you one night to ask if he could go to you instead, feeling lightheaded when who answered your phone was not you but a man, more precisely, Baekhyun, who politely told him you were currently asleep at his, and that he'd let you know he called the next day.

That was the first time his heart broke.

The second one? When a few weeks later you introduced him to your new boyfriend, the same guy who had answered your phone before.

That's when he reached his breaking point, because he had hoped that was a one time thing – a one night stand he could deal with, but you being in an actual serious relationship with someone else? That he could not handle.

So now the song he had written for you was long forgotten, replaced by many more as he practically lived in his studio – replaced by heartbreak ones you would never hear nor would the rest of the world.

Because it was his most precious secret, the one of him being in love with his best friend… of his taken best friend.

The one of him being too late.

Jung Hoseok

“Y/N and Ten?” Yoongi frowned – eyes fixed on you locking lips with the other idol, as he offered Hobi a drink after having reached his side.

Hoseok shrugged, taking the beer in his hand and chugging it like his life depended on it.

“I mean, I knew he had a thing for her since the last after party, but I didn't think she… I thought she…”

He thought you liked Hoseok. He really thought you did; that you genuinely returned his friend’s feelings for you. The way you would look at him, talk to him… act around him… everything was right there to make anyone believe there was something else going on besides a simple friendship.

The worst part of all? So did Hoseok.

That Yoongi had just found out at the sight of his bloodshot eyes.

“In her own words, how could she not fall for his killer dancing skills, pointy nose, smile so bright it could leave her blind, and how good he is to her?” he bit the inside of his cheek, finishing his drink in one gulp.

Yoongi gasped at that description. “Hope-ah, you–”

Hobi shook his head to stop him from speaking. “I need another drink” he excused himself from there.

He knew. He knew that fucking description fit him as well, which only made his heart hurt a thousand times more. Why couldn't you see him the same way you saw Ten?

Kim Namjoon

The worst part of you dating Yoo Youngjae?

That Namjoon had not noticed he had feelings for you until after you started dating him.

And it wasn't even when you first told him about your new relationship. Yes, he found himself not completely liking the idea but that had been it.

It was actually one month later, when he went to your house one morning to see how you were doing with your outfit for that night's award show, and what he found as soon as you opened the door was you in a dress that hugged your figure beautifully.

You took his breath away the very second he saw you, realising right there you were not his to look at like that. That fact hitting him like a punch to the face when you excitedly told him you were going with Youngjae to the event.

He didn't know why he had thought you'd go with him, like you had for so long done; even if you were taken now. Instead, he ended up going with just his members, which wasn't boring at all, but they weren't you. And he wanted you by his side during these kind of things... during all kind of things.

After that, he couldn't help but distance himself from you, because he'd hurt every time he saw your eyes lit up when you spoke about your boyfriend, every time you would smile in his presence, and let's not even talk about all the times you'd show any kind of affection towards Youngjae when he was in the room. What hurt him the most was that he didn't even get a chance to act on his feelings. He had just been too late. Too late to notice the amazing person he had by his side the whole time, too stupid to take you for granted.

Park Jimin

Loud banging on your door was what woke you up in the middle of the night – only to be met with a very miserable looking Park Jimin once you opened it moments later.

“Please tell me the rumours are not true” he begged with teary eyes.

“What?”

“Please” he stumbled forward, “tell me you're not with Taemin” he slurred his words, making the red flights show in your head.

“Jimin-ie, are you drunk?” you rushed to his side, wrapping one arm around him and closing your door with the other, helping him inside your place.

“No, no” he whined, closing his eyes as he tried to remove your touch from him. “Answer me, Y/N”.

The thing is, you didn't even have to answer him – your eyes alone letting him know what he dreaded the most was true.

Jimin took in a shaky breath, feeling a sharp pain on his chest. “Why him?” he mumbled.

You stuck your lower lip out, not understanding why he was so upset by it.

“Am I not good enough for you?”

That's when everything made sense.

“If you wanted a boyfriend why couldn't it be me? I've always been here for you, you know I love you, why can't you just…”

“Let's go to bed” you stopped him from pouring his heart out.

“No, Y/N–”

“I don't want you to regret this in the morning, Jimin. You can decide whether you want to tell me this or not once you're sober”.

And so he followed you to your room, instantly falling asleep, whereas you were left with a halfhearted insomnia.

Kim Taehyung

“I'll get you a date with any idol you want if you change places with me” you peeked your head from above his shoulder.

Taehyung shook his head. “If that idol is you, then sure…” he mumbled under his breath as he fidgeted unconsciously.

“What?” you wondered, moving closer so you could listen to him better.

“I said I don't want to date anyone” he raised his voice this time, making the mistake of turning his head in your direction, for your faces were dangerously close and he felt the urge to touch your lips with his.

“Okay then. I'll give you ten dollars”.

He scoffed. “Ten dollars for a seat that's one row in front of yours, meaning a much better spot? Why would I–”

“Dammit, Taehyung! I'm begging you, please change seats with me”.

Yeah, dammit.

Damn him for giving in to your pouty lips and pleading eyes.

Damn him for always wanting to give you what you wanted and see you happy.

Damn him for having feelings for his best friend.

But most importantly, damn him for not noticing the seat next to his was assigned to Kim Jungwoo, your crush since almost four months now and also who was currently in front of him, with you by his side looking at each other with the biggest heart eyes.

Heart eyes Taehyung had for so long wished you would look at him with, but much to his heartbreak knew you would never.

Jeon Jeongguk

“Who were you talking to?” you wondered as you entered your living room with snacks for your monthly movie night.

“Oh, Jaehyun called you” he said as if it was nothing, wanting to drop the topic right then by stuffing his mouth with food.

You stared at him for a few seconds awaiting for an explanation, finally shoving his arm when you noticed he had no intentions of speaking.

“What did he say, you idiot!”

“Easy” he whined, rubbing his arm. “He wanted to take you out tonight” your mouth fell open, “but I told him you were not available”.

“You told my crush what now?”

“I told him you were busy with me” Jeongguk shrugged, not looking at you but at the TV he had just turned on.

“Jeongguk, what the hell” you scolded him.

“You've gone on dates for weeks now, it's nothing new”.

“But what if he wanted to make it official now” you furrowed your eyebrows. “What if this was the date”.

“Then he should've planned it ahead. This is our night”.

“Oh my God” you ran your hands through your face. “I can't believe you”.

“No, Y/N, I can't believe you” he snapped, finally looking at you. “Everything now seems to revolve around him. I barely even get to see you and you're willing to sacrifice our movie night for him?” before you could even say anything, he stood up, throwing the remote to your side. “Well, your wish has been granted”.

He had been okay with you seeing him just like your best friend. He had been okay with pushing his feelings aside when you started dating Jae if it meant he still got to have you in his life. But if he couldn't even have that anymore then what was even the point.

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mercifuldeaths · 5 years

Text

Vertigo: Chapter 9: Bravado

Vertigo: Chapter 9

Bravado

This fic is in progress.

Jim Mason x Reader

Warnings for this chapter: Mentions and depiction of drug addiction.

Summary: Jim is torn between two worlds. The one that he’s in and the one where he knows he’ll be free. The third option isn’t considered.

Notes: Things are getting a little intense-as if they weren’t already. Jim is losing his already fragile grip on reality and is truly at a loss of what to do. He feels like he’s exhausted all options, par one.

Word Count: 5 K

Y/N was awakened by a clattering on her window and intermittent buzzes from her phone. Reluctantly turning, she looked over to the clock which read 3:47 am. The cold rushed into the blankets that were disrupted causing a chill to run down her spine.

The clicking didn’t stop and she dragged herself over to the large window overlooking the neighborhood, not lucky enough to have an ocean view. A knot formed in her stomach as she already suspected who was outside. Her courtesy glance at her phone confirmed that Jim was, in fact, outside, begging for her attention. His texts were mostly unreadable-a mixture of typos and anxious words that he rushed to type out.

3:32 am [From: Jimmy] Hy I know itsbe en a min.

3:32 am [From: Jimmy} Yyvou home

3:41 am [From: Jimmy] Hey atr you thesir

3:43 am [From: Jimmy] Can i se you?

3:43 am [From: Jimmy} Pleaseb.

She opened the message transcript while walking over to the window, her heart already aching enough she was sure it would burst. Trying to avoid him wasn’t working well if he showed up at her doorstep, anyway. But there was nothing more than the sound of his voice, safe and alive she wanted to hear.

Pulling the curtains revealed the frame of her...boyfriend? She didn’t know. A label wasn't necessary for what they were feeling lately. They felt starlight swallowed in a back hole despite everything that had happened.

He was turned opposite the house, facing the street, and looked like he was about to give up on his mission of seeing her. She could see in his posture that something had happened. His shoulders were drawn up, his head cradled in his hands, hand running through soft hair. He was suppressing his breaths as they were too much, he was lightheaded, black seeping into his vision.

“Jimmy,” she whispered, her head sticking out the window, looking at him below. His head shot up and turned to face the voice he craved. He already felt tears spill. “Baby, what happened?” he heard her continue and he felt the world spin-the center of his universe refocusing itself onto her.

“I just needed to see you. I needed to make sure you were real,” he looked up at her, still breathing heavy, rambling almost. “Can I see you?”

“Yeah, baby. Come up,” she gestured to the familiar path he took to her room. Walking up the driveway, he took measured steps. He continued to climb over the storage chest, onto the roof of the garage, and then onto the incline that lead to her room. She pushed the window open wider to allow for his entrance.

When he got closer she could see he was already crying, tears staining his cheekbones. A thin layer of sweat covered him and started seeping into the tee shirt he was wearing, noticeably missing his usual denim jacket. It was chilly for Palos Verdes and he should have grabbed it. He must have been desperate to leave.

Managing to slip through her window, attempting to be quiet, he landed in her arms. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he sobbed and pressed his face into her hair, worried that it might be the last time. He was always worried that it would be the last time, for one reason or another. “I know, Medina told me that you need space, that I need space, but I need you. I just--. Please,” he gasped out and started losing his footing under himself. He tried to still his breathing knowing the was adding to the dizzy feeling but the dark kept seeping into his vision and made the ground under him turn to water.

She slipped one hand into his hair, the other wrapping around his back as she pulled him in as close as possible. He leaned down to bury his face into her neck, mumbling something she couldn’t quite make sense of. “Please, I need you I’ll never do it again, I promise, I’ll be better, I just need you, please,” he was rambling in between his incoherent mumblings.

“I’m here. I’m always here,” she whispered and layed a kiss at the crown of his head.

It was plainly obvious that he was on something. She couldn't discern what, or what mixture, he took for the night. All she knew was that he was with her. And when he was with her, he was safe. She pulled his head from its position resting on her shoulder to be eye level with her.

“I’m so sorry, I know I shouldn’t have,” his eyes shut in resignation, tears continuing to leak from the corners of his ocean eyes. Instinctively, she leaned in to kiss them away.

“I know, it’s okay.” She pulled away to look him in the eye but he avoided looking at her, guilt pooling in his chest. She saw blown pupils dodging her. Her hands cradled his face, thumbs brushing cheekbones, while his hands found their home placed on her hips. “What do you need? What do you need from me?” Her hands traveled to the hem of his shirt, lifting it over his head. He was overheating and she silently thanked herself for not closing the window that he climbed through even though a chill ran through her bones. She wasn’t sure if that was from the cold or seeing Jim like this, though.

“I don’t know. I don’t know, I just want you, I need you,” he tried to keep his voice from cracking. He saw her softly nod her head. “I’m so sorry.” His voice did crack then.

Having no words, she pulled him into her chest, cradling him.

“I wanna sleep next to you.”

Her heart just about broke, hearing him say that in such a small voice she swore she misheard it.

“You want to sleep?” she clarified.

“I want to sleep next to you,” he repeated.

“Of course, Jim. Let’s sleep.” She started to feel the tightness in her throat, a desperate attempt to stop herself from crying. The pair slowly made their way to her bed, already unmade and warm from her body. She undid his jeans and he crawled into the blankets clad in his boxers.

Laying next to him, she propped herself up on her elbow. He faced away from her, a little ashamed although he knew that he shouldn't be. Not with her. She understood him. She got him.

She couldn’t help but allow her fingers to trace his body. She stared at his face, his smooth forehead, the slope of his nose, his plush lips. Curling herself over him, she tucked his head into her chest and grabbed onto one of his hands. He intertwined their fingers, both of his hands covering her small one. He brought her palm to his mouth and kissed it a few times. He settled their hands, still intertwined, under his face.

She couldn’t help the silent tears that stained her pillow, crying for everything he had been through, none of it deserved. His small sniffles continued for a few minutes until his breath evened out, a calm painting his features. At peace.

“You have to stop this, you can’t keep going like this,” she mumbled into his sleeping form. “You have to stop this because every night I go to sleep thinking what’s going to happen if you don’t wake up.” Her tears continued despite him finally sleeping. She tried to quiet her cries as to not wake him, he needed the sleep as far as the shadows under his eyes told her. She knew holding him all night would do nothing in the long run, but she felt a duty to protect him in any way she knew how-and any way he needed.

She tried to memorize every breath, every angle, everything about him. She couldn’t help but feel like this was one of the last times she was have the privilege to lay next to him.

Things had changed again. The dynamic shifted. Jim couldn’t keep up and everything moved too fast.

He had agreed to try one more time. For her. Only for her.

And that’s how he found himself lying on the floor of his bedroom in a puddle of his own sweat and spit, unable to close his gasping mouth. There were no more tears. One, two, three. One, two, three. He had read somewhere counting breaths was supposed to help with pain but the shooting pain in his head and rattling of his bones weren’t subsided.

He heard himself groan aloud, unable to hold the pain in any longer. He brought a shaking hand to his mouth and chewed on a cuticle, feeling his breath moving fast. He was alone this time. No Medina. He told himself he didn’t want her there despite him knowing that she was just two rooms over, easily accessible should he have a moment of true weakness.

His rocking back and forth on the carpet was leaving a burn on his arm and chest, shirt removed long ago to help cool off. It didn’t help and neither did opening his windows to the bay. The supposedly soothing sound of the waves made him feel nauseous. Seasick on dry land.

He saw a shadow block the light through the crack at the bottom of his door. “Go away, Medina,” he managed to bite out, face pressed into his carpet. Sandy wasn’t home- he couldn’t remember why or where she went. He couldn’t remember much, lately. “Go the fuck away.”

The door slowly cracked and revealed Y/N, peering into his dark room, only lit by the dim lamp. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He was humiliated. She shouldn’t have to see him like that, on the floor writhing around, unable to gain purchase on reality.

“Y/N,” he managed to mumble out, unable to hide the frustration in his voice. He knew it was Medina’s doing. If she couldn’t be there, she’d call in the reserves-even though Y/N and her weren’t on the best terms.

“Hi, baby,” she whispered, trying to respect his apparently obvious migraine. He started moving to sit up and she went over to help him, trying to hold his limp frame. His pale skin and underfed body looked ghostly in the dim light-painting a morbid idea that maybe that’s what he’d look like if he were…...no. She couldn’t think like that. Cause this was it. This was when he finally got sober. For good.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” He managed himself onto the bed, her sitting next to him, stroking her fingers through his sweat soaked hair.

“I know you didn’t want me here. But I also know that you shouldn’t be alone right now,” she said and offered a small smile. Her cheeks tightened uncomfortably, nausea settling in her belly just from seeing him like that. “If you didn’t want Medina to stay…” she trailed off, unsure of where the sentence was going.

“Yeah, I didn’t want her here- or you.” He was agitated-understandably so. He had just gotten over the ‘vomit until you see blood’ phase and was slowly moving into the ‘feel like your bones are being ripped out of your skin’ phase. He knew his body and knew how it progressed in times like these, all too familiar with the process but willing to go through it again and again for just one more high.

“I know, I’m sorry. I was just scared,” she admitted. Silence fell over the room, only broken by the sound of the incessant waves. Jim started to understand what Sandy meant when she said that they were the reason she was driven to insanity. Maybe they were the reason he went crazy, too.

“I don’t need you here. I didn’t--Medina! ‘Dina!” he shouted, breath picking up again as he struggled to sit up on the bed.

Y/N looked to the door, waiting for Medina to show, but she didn’t.

“It’s just,” he laughed. “You know-you’re no better than them.” When she gave a confused tilt of her head he explained, “Palos Verdes? Those fucks? We’re the same as them, you know.” Admittedly, she couldn’t quite follow. He cut her off before she could ask. “They show face to everyone-perfect and shiny cars and expensive houses but they’re us. They’re who we are,” he laughed a little manically.

“Jim, try to relax, okay?” She placed a hand on his shoulder and attempted to gently press him back into bed to lay down. He roughly pushed her hand off and she was reminded of the night of the party. Her wrist throbbed in sympathy and she rose off the bed to take a step back, afraid of him again.

“They're the same as me even if they’re too proud to admit it. We’ve all got secrets, Y/N.” His eyes rolled and his tone soured.

She had never seen him like this. Eyes wide, looking at her but not seeing her. To him, it was like seeing her clearly for the first time, finally seeing her flaws and faults. He was suddenly disgusted with the idea of her. And Jim knew he wasn’t in the right state of mind. He wasn’t seeing her- he was seeing himself in a mirror. But he couldn’t stop. The blood finally flowed in his veins again and he felt something.

The better part of him tried to stop what he knew was going to happen, but it wasn’t enough. He saw Y/N’s eyes, still so pretty in the gold light of his dingy lamp, look to the door silently praying for Medina to show. He saw fear in her eyes and he didn’t know why, but he liked it.

She heard him let out a bitter sigh. “But you think you’re different,” he sing songed. “Perfect Y/N comes here from wherever- ready to change everyone’s life but newsflash sweetheart, you’re just as fucked as the rest of us.” He stood, looking stronger than he had in awhile. “Because you got off the pills, oh yeah-you’re the expert telling me how to live my life now. Are you fucking kidding me? You don’t know me. You met me like, what, a year ago? You don’t know shit!” he roared, filling the space with his voice.

She was speechless, looking at him with wide eyes and a blank mind.

Jim scoffed and continued. “You know, I think your mom had the right idea when she left. She didn’t have to put up with your bullshit savior complex or whatever. And your dad,” he smiled and she saw him try to hide another laugh, a charade of being honest. “He flies to the other side of the country to get away from you! And it makes sense. You’re bored, so you find some guy like me to fuck with. Not this time,” he sneered and kept pacing the room. Her eyes followed, unable to look anywhere but at him.

Y/N was numb. Unable to move, unable to breathe. She couldn’t speak, and if she could she didn’t know what she would say. What could she say to make this better? Nothing is going to make this better.

Jim turned, sensing someone else in the doorway and Medina was there in her pajamas, hair still wet from the shower, also speechless at his display.

“But maybe the one thing that is right with you is your sister because lord know I wish mine was fucking dead.” He looked Medina dead in the eyes, waiting for her reaction.

One didn’t come. She knew better than to feed into this. His attention turned back onto Y/N. “Just because you couldn’t save your sister doesn't mean you have to save me, okay? I didn’t ask for your bullshit,” his voice was still loud, ringing in her ears. She felt her bravado slip, a tear rolled down her cheek despite her blinking to hold them back.

“I know your game, now.” Jim gripped Y/N’s chin in his large hand, just a little too hard, causing her to let out a small whimper, afraid. She swallowed thickly, but before she could speak, a sob released from her chest causing Jim to laugh again. Her favorite sound reduced to this.

“The second I drop dead you’re gonna go find some other guy’s life to ruin-so don’t play all high and mighty with me. You’re so goddamn predictable, you know that?” He leaned in closer to her and she could smell the mints he had been sucking on earlier.

“You know? I can’t wait until I overdose so I don’t have to deal with your fucking bullshit anymore.”

She flinched when the crack of dry wall split just centimeters from her head. All at once, Jim let go of her face, turning in disgust to shake his now bloodied hand, while Y/N heard Medina break her stoic facade with a scream.

Y/N didn’t make a sound. She turned to see the cracked and splintered drywall, completely punched through by her boyfriend. Had he been a few inches over…

She looked the other way towards Jim who was then being pushed by Medina, trying to get some control over her brother. He looked like he was fighting back but he was so thin and weak Medina might have had the upper hand. They were shouting but Y/N couldn’t hear anything besides the ringing in her ears.

It took her a second, but she took a breath, and turned to leave. There was nothing for her there anymore. She walked through the door, shoulders back, head held high, and didn’t even think about looking back.

“Come sit,” her voice rang out over the crashing of the waves on the cliffside. Jim saw Y/N, legs hanging off the edge, her hair blowing in the wind that whipped. “We need to talk.”

The sun kissed her skin and she almost glowed. Jim felt himself smile for the first time in a long time, despite her cryptic words.

He meandered over to her and sat next to her in the sand, further from the edge than her, his arm wrapped around her waist. “Baby,” he mumbled against her temple and gave her a soft kiss. Pulling back she smiled and looked at his blue eyes, pupils blown.

“You,” she hesitated, unsure of how he wanted to talk about it. “You tried your best. Right? You didn’t mean it?” She couldn’t hide the disappointment that leaked into her voice.

He nodded somberly, eyes looking out toward the setting sun, falling behind the puffed clouds. “I really did,” whispered more to himself than Y/N. She took his hand in her smaller one, noting the still bruised knuckles.

“I know you can do it, Jim.” She looked at him, sincerity creating a delicate smile. For a minute, Jim believed her. “You’re going to prove it to yourself.”

“Okay,” he answered, a little unsure of where she was going with this.

“Come closer.” She nodded to the further edge of the cliff, where she was perched. “It feels nice.” His eyes narrowed, looking over the steep edge to the waves crashing under her. He felt his heart thrum in his chest, faster than it had in days, despite the stimulants he had taken. He looked back to her, unafraid. He didn’t want to be afraid anymore.

Scooting closer to the edge, as well as her, he let out a nervous sigh. “It’s okay,” she laughed, pulling him closer to her. “You’re always going to be okay.”

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” he stuttered out when he started to feel himself almost tip over but he managed to stay just on the edge. He didn’t understand how she was sitting so comfortably with her feet dangling over the sixty-foot drop below them. Her eyes stayed on him the entire time.

“You’re okay,” she said softly, her hand reaching to hold his shoulder, trying to steady him.

He remembered they had met like this-not the first time when his friends were assholes, but the first real time. On that red tiled roof that dug into his back and shoulders but he knew he would have stayed up there all night if it meant he could talk to her for a few more minutes. That night, she was the one who was looking over the edge, a little unnerved.

But now, a more treacherous drop in front of her, she looked more at ease than he had seen in a while. She reminded him of how she looked when they met, still a little nieve of his issues but just as ready to take them on. She was too good for him and he knew it. Everyone did.

He peered over the edge again. The rocks were sharp, white waves crashing over them, high from the wind that was gusting. His breathing picked up, heartbeat faster, his blood flowing. Everything was in sharp contrast- technicolor. Things were clear and made sense-everything made fucking sense. Jim laughed a little manically as he leaned impossibly further over. He felt that his cheeks were wet. Laughing while crying. He smiled.

Vision blurred, he continued to look down in a trance and his world spun. Vertigo.

“Okay?”

“I’m good.”

“You’re too good for this place, Jim. Medina always said that you should get out of here,” she said dreamily, still looking out at the horizon, the sun dipping lower faster than he thought possible. She tucked a long leg under herself and slowly stood, towering over him. Y/N placed a hand out for him to take, a silent question hung in the air.

He started to stand but the tears came faster and his breaths stronger. “Don’t make me do this. Please,” he begged but he didn’t even know what he was asking for-what she wanted him to do, really.

“I’ve got you. Relax.” She pressed her other hand onto his chest, tucking herself into him. He held her and she was as cold as ice to his warm skin. “This isn’t going away, Jimmy.”

“What?”

“This.” she gestured to the bay, his house behind him. No matter how many times the world shifted, Palos Verdes would remain. It would always exist. “You aren’t living your life. They aren’t ever going to love you like this.” She was matter-of-fact and Jim felt his heart shatter but he was still confused, his brain muddled. What was she getting at?

His hand reached to her face and stroked her smooth skin, still cold. Why was she so cold? “I’m scared.”

“I know. I love you too much for this-to see you like this.” She looked to him, finally, her eyes burning, rimmed red. “It’s going to be okay.”

He realized what was happening. He felt his heart sink like a stone. No.

“I’ve got you,” she whispered, eyes locked on his. He believed her. No.

“I just want to be free,” he responded, voice cracking. No.

The waves picked up, the crashing deafening. They welcomed him. No.

“I love you.” No.

“Nothing will ever hurt again.” No.

Yes.

He felt himself lean over, ready. Finally.

“JIM! JIM!” Someone grabbed his arm, expecting Y/N but only seeing Medina, panting and red-faced.

He looked over the edge and Medina ripped his arm, pulling him away from it fast and hard.

“Where’s…” he trailed off and the world still spun. “Medina?”

“Jim what the fuck are you doing?”she screamed, her voice piercing his ears, not letting go of his arm. She still pulled, willing him further away from the drop and back towards the house.

Everything was clear but he was moving slow. “Where’s Y/N?” he asked. Medina’s eyes were wide with fear. Genuine terror at seeing her brother so close to something she knew she couldn’t live with.

“What?” she bit out, confused and still scared. “I don’t know where she is, she’s not here.” Medina looked at him as if it were obvious but she then realized that maybe it wasn’t so obvious to him with the way his eyes kept darting around.

He was on that bluff alone. She only needed to see him for a second before she moved without thinking-running to him to pull him back. If she wasn’t fast enough she knew her only other option would have been to follow him down into the waves. They needed each other even if they liked to pretend otherwise.

He could tell things were still happening but not exactly what. Medina was talking to him and he could hear himself responding but didn’t know what he was saying. Where’s Y/N?

Medina managed to get him to doze off on the couch, old cartoons playing on the tv while she threaded her fingers through his hair, running them over his too sharp cheekbones. He’d almost done it. He was going over that cliff, she knew it the second she glanced out the living room window and saw him sitting out there.

Awhile ago, maybe he would have just been sitting out there to get air, sneak a cigarette to make himself feel cool or a joint if he was feeling particularly rebellious. She didn’t think there would come a day that she didn't want Jim outside. She felt like Sandy-desperate to keep him there, keep him with her, keep him safe.

He was really gonna do it. She harbored resentment towards him for being the favorite even though she could clearly see where being the favorite got him. Maybe he deserves it. That was the gut instinct after these months of arguing, constant tongue lashings and hurtful comments. Underneath, she knew that what she was feeling wasn’t real. It was the illusion that had been created around him. She wanted him back. That’s all she wanted.

And she knew that it was time. He wasn’t going to make it any longer. Look at him. He was a ghost of himself and she felt a knife twist in her gut when she would hold him like that, no muscle on his frame, blue eyes blown wide but red with purple circles under them. Usually bloodied knuckles or a bruised cheek.

He was dying, it was plainly obvious and she couldn’t believe that it took her this long to want to do something about it-why she waited that long. It stemmed from that jealousy deep inside her but now look where it got them. She tried hating Jim but she knew she really just hated herself.

She lost herself as much as Jim had.

“Medina.” His voice scared her, deeper than she remembered-they hadn’t spoken in so long, and she almost expected the high tenor he had as a child. “I don’t think I was going to-”

“You were,” she deadpanned remembering him leaning far enough over she had to throw all her weight into pulling him back off the edge. A sob ripped from her chest and she started to feel her eyes well up. She didn’t bother holding back, letting herself feel something properly for the first time in forever. “I almost lost you, Jim. I am losing you.”

Jim’s hand reached to hers that was resting on his chest, his head still in her lap. He felt safe there, knowing Medina could protect him. “I don’t want this anymore. I don’t know what I want but I’m tired,” he sighed and did, in fact, sound exhausted mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually spent-nothing else to give.

“We’re gonna get you help, okay?” She was still gasping, unafraid of Jim’s reaction. Maybe he would finally see just how scared she was.

“I don’t know what I want. Just not this. I can’t do it anymore, okay?” His temper flared but was dampened by the cracks in his voice. At a loss for words, his twin nodded, already planning how to salvage him-the rest of her life be damned. She prayed to a god she wasn’t sure she believed in. I’ll do anything. Anything. I’ll stop surfing, I’ll die for him, please. Bargaining, she knew, was one of the stages in grief. I shouldn’t be grieving, he’s right here.

“Can Y/N come back?” Jim said, turning to look at Medina. “She was here a minute ago.”

She hesitated in her response-unsure of how to tackle this given his particular state. “Nobody was out there with you. You were alone,” she spoke slow. Calculated. “And I don’t know if she wants to see you right now. You said such horrible things…”

His brows furrowed in confusion, nose crinkling slightly. “No, no I didn’t,” he decided adamantly. Medina stared at him silently. “That...wasn’t real...I didn’t-I couldn’t. No. No Medina it can’t- Did I-” His breathing picked up as he choked out the words, gasping between each syllable. Her silence spoke volumes to him. “No, call her, please. Please I need to talk to her-I need to let her know that I-”

“I don’t know if that’s-”

“Do it, please-please-please,” he started mumbling. She’d seen him like this before, once hitting his head against the floor so hard she was sure he had a concussion. He stood up too fast, world tilting but managing to catch his balance, and started pacing the living room, biting the cuticle of his thumb. “Medina...please call her.” His voice was hysterical, the plea ripping from his chest.

“I can try, okay?” she said softly, trying to placate him as she pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed the once familiar contact.

Y/N actually answered and Medina was a little surprised.

It was still hard to hear her, let alone convince her to come over, while Jim was still rambling and ranting in the background. Medina held him back from trying to smash his head into the coffee table, but understood his need for repentance.

Jimmy’s Sad Pals: @ccodyfern @hellxblade @langdonsrapture @langdonsdemon @coloursunlimited @i-will-die-for-jim-mason @michael-langdon-appreciation @langdonalien @tarkofetis @katiekitty261 @lovelykhaleesiii @starwlkers @aveiangdon @heelsamizayn @sojournx @sojournmichael @oneday-i-will-fight-luke17 @americanhorrorstudies @antichristwrites @wroteclassicaly @lvngdvns @langdonsrapture @langdonsinferno @sammythankyou @pink---matter @1-800-bitchcraft @babypinkstyles94 @nana15774 @missantichrist @duncvn @duncan-shepherd @gremlinkween @queencocoakimmie

Gif source: hardyfern

#jim mason x reader #jim mason #the tribes of palos verdes #the tribes of palos verdes fanfic #topv vertigo #ahs apocalypse #ahs fanfiction #jim mason smut #medina mason #michael langdon smut #michael langdon x reader

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sicjimin · 3 years

Text

A.N : ..... i hope this story makes sense and is not too jumbled? TT

TW : emeto

Jimin knows that his stubbornness sometimes will come back to bite him in the ass sooner or later. And maybe it's sooner than he expected.

Today is Yoongi's birthday, and out of Jimin's luck, he was feeling under weather from yesterday. A bit of coughing and sneezing that he managed to push through the whole day, now morphs into pooling nausea and slight fever when he wakes up this morning. He groans to the pillow, cursing his sick body, and collecting his soul before he pushes himself from the bed. He needs to go on with his day. He can't let sickness ruin what he already planned for his boyfriend's birthday.

Jimin grabs his phone when he sees his phone vibrates after he showers. The warm water help to lessen the fever, at least he didn't feel too lightheaded like before, and maybe he manages to lessen nausea too after throwing up bile and a bit of his dinner when he showers.

Jin-hyung : I'm already on my way~

Jimin : Okay hyung, just let yourself in. I'm getting ready!

Jimin typed away before tosses his phone in the bed and change into the fluffiest sweater he had and sweatpants before he heads downstairs.

"Jiminie!!", Seokjin exclaims as he takes out the ingredients and placed them on the counter. Jimin smiles, pulling the older to a hug and linger there longer than usual. His hyung feels comfortable for his touch-deprived state.

" You're warm, Minie", Seokjin states, he pulls away from the hug and cupped the younger cheeks, "You're pale.. are you okay?"

Jimin nods, smiling at Seokjin but the concern isn't leaving his face. Seokjin frowns, knowing that the younger is lying. But he didn't push through, knowing that Jimin won't answer.

"Okay, i already brought all the ingredients. What cake do you want to make?", Seokjin asks, watching Jimin rummaging for the tools that they need. " I think about strawberry cheesecake Hyung? It's not too sweet. You know Yoongi-hyung didn't like cake that much"

Seokjin hums as he starts grabbing the flour, making the batter. They start working on the cake, chatting in between about their days and some throwback to the past.

It was going well, they both were recovering from the fit of laughter they just had when Jimin suddenly stay still, looking completely distressed.

Seokjin's hands stop mixing, "Jimin-ah? What's wrong?"

Jimin opened his eyes that now become glassy, "Hyung, i will puke, excuse me for a min", Jimin stands up quickly and makes it into the bathroom. Seokjin immediately panics, following Jimin's trail.

He finds him in front of the toilet, hovering over the bowl that already has a spurt of brown liquid as saliva drooling from his pale lips. Seokjin kneels beside him, holding the younger's hand and rub soothing circles to Jimin's back.

"Hyung, can you tied my hair back?", Jimin mumbled, his breathing crackling the water below him as he breathes through an overwhelming wave of nausea. He could feel he's breaking cold sweats. Seokjin nods, just in time to grab his hair when Jimin's body pitches forward with a guttural heave and vomit sloshes out of his mouth.

"Jiminie..", Seokjin said softly, running his hands up and down Jimin's trembling body as the younger bring up more of his stomach content, splashing loudly filling the bowl. Jimin heaves more and more until there's only a trickle of bile and water that he managed to let out.

"You okay?" Seokjin asked, watching Jimin's face as he wiped at his mouth with a shaky hand and nodded, taking in deep breaths. It seems like there's still bile clinging to Jimin's lips, and he tries desperately not to throw it up again, feeling slightly lightheaded from doing so. Jimin takes slow deep breaths through his nose as Seokjin gently rubs circles into Jimin's back again, rubbing away any stray wet strands sticking to his skin. Jimin leans over on Seokjin, resting his forehead against his shoulder with his eyes shut tight, trying to ignore the pain that still lingers throughout his body.

"Lets move to the couch, hm?" Seokjin asks, helping him stand slowly before guiding him over the couch, making sure not to jostle him too much. Seokjin sits down on the couch with Jimin in his lap, cradling him close, and strokes his hair gently. Jimin sniffles, "I.. I feel sick.."

Seokjin chuckles, "I know, and i can see your stubbornness when you're sick hasn't gone yet"

Jimin laughs weakly and buries his head into Seokjin's chest, wrapping his arms around his waist and nuzzling his face in the elder's chest. He feels the older's hand moving down on top of his head, combing through his hair gently before returning to caress his face.

"Wait for a moment hyung, I still feel dizzy, then we continue to make the cake", Jimin mumble, gaining a light slap from the older.

" What are you saying! You barely can keep yourself awake!"

Jimin whines, "It'll pass soon.."

Seokjin sighs exasperatedly, "Let me make it, okay? and you rest here. I will make you soup to eat too"

"But- i want to help", Jimin pouts.

" You're just gonna make yourself feel worse if you move around now. Just rest so you can feel better before Yoongi got home"

Jimin huffs, giving up. He doesn't get a reply as Seokjin gets up and heads into the kitchen, starting to make the soup that Jimin requested. Jimin sighs, turning towards his pillow, burying his face into it and trying to relax while the headache grows and the world spins around him.

"Jimin, i made the soup", Seokjin said softly after few minutes.

Jimin turns his head to look up at Seokjin, who sets the bowl next to Jimin before sitting next to him. Jimin sits up carefully, and takes the bowl, "Thank you"

He managed to get down the soup and medicine, trying to bargain to Seokjin to let him help to make the cake but the older shoves him down to the couch again. Before he knows, he is already fast asleep and wake up right an hour before Yoongi gets home.

He pushes himself from the couch, smiling softly when he sees the cake already prepared nicely on the counter with a small note from Seokjin and a gift that he concludes for Yoongi. He walks to his room, changing his clothes and freshen himself a little bit. He feels a little bit better, the fever went down a bit but at least the world isn't spinning harshly like before.

He sucked a deep breath, cheering himself up, figured that he still has time to decorate the house a little bit.

They were currently sitting side by side on the couch, nibbling the cake once in a while as they talk. Yoongi hasn't succeeded to wipe the smile from his face the moment he sees his boyfriend greeting him happy birthday, complete with the cake and decoration.

"You're making this cake?", Yoongi asks after gulping down another bite of it. Jimin sheepishly smiles, " Jin-hyung helped me. I only make a little bit before he takes over"

Yoongi chuckles before taking a sip from his wine glass, "He didn't trust you to help?"

"No!", Jimin whines, " Something happened and then he didn't let me help", he mutters.

"You can eat the rest", Jimin pushes the cake to Yoongi that the older accept with a frown, " You barely ate tonight, is everything okay?"

Jimin sighed, "It's just a little headache that hasn't gone away. Not something bad, i hope though, i have already taken the medicine though " he replies.

Yoongi hums, placing the cake down, "You're sick?", he asks, moving his palms to Jimin forehead, " You have a fever, Minie"

The younger says with a small shrug. Yoongi frowns deeper and reaches for Jimin's hand that he keeps on his lap.

"Do you wanna sleep? you must be tired preparing all of this. Thank you, really. I love it"

He gives Jimin a bright smile, kissing the other boy lightly. The younger blushes slightly, nodding quietly.

"That sounds good, i demand a cuddle for a thank you", Jimin jokes with a grin. Yoongi lets out a chuckle before pulling Jimin to wrap his arms around him as they walk to their room.

Jimin was forced awake around midnight as his body going back and forth between hot and cold flush. He opened his eyes, whimpers when he feels the room tilting. Then he rolls his body to the other side and realized that he wasn't alone. He remembers falling asleep after cuddling with the older. He smiles softly, watching Yoongi in the room with him, asleep beside him, curled around the blankets. His hair is messy from having slept in it. Jimin couldn't help but chuckle, remembering how cute the older looked with his hair ruffled and his face flushed from sleep, forgetting about the reason that wakes him up. His loving thought got cut off when nausea hits him again. This time, harder than before.

Jimin groans, rolling over to push himself upwards. Yoongi stirs at the movement, " Where are you going?", he rasps. Jimin shakes his head, trying to clear the fuzziness that fills his head as he gets off the bed, "Bathroom", he mumbled.

He walks to the bathroom quickly. He turns on the light and paces across the room, trying to catch his breath. The sight of his sickly reflection is not reassuring. He reaches towards the sink, immediately gagging emptily. It didn't take long before his stomach revolts, this time bringing actual vomit.

It feels gross and disgusting. Jimin wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. As soon as he does, another rush comes over him. He bends over, and pukes again. He continues vomiting until after some minutes, he stops. His throat burns from the force of his vomiting.

Jimin leans his elbows on the counter, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His body is shaking. His cheeks flush and his ears turn red, and his eyes burn from all the crying he did. He sighs heavily.

He opened the bathroom door and crawl slowly back to bed, " You're throwing up?" Yoongi says sleepily.

Jimin smiles weakly, nuzzling himself to the older, "Yeah".

"Do you want to go to the doctor?"

Jimin shakes his head, "I don't think so".

Yoongi nods silently, rubbing Jimin's back gently, "Why not?"

Jimin shrugs weakly, the older touch almost lulled him into sleep "I dunno. Maybe it'll pass".

"You've been saying that since earlier. I don't like seeing you sick, Minie"

" 'm sorry".

"What are you apologizing for?", Yoongi questions confused, tilting Jimin's chin so their eyes meet.

"For being sick on your birthday".

Yoongi frowns, pressing a light kiss on his temple and rubbing his back once more. Jimin rests his head on Yoongi's chest and closes his eyes. "You're silly", Yoongi whispers, kissing Jimin lightly on the forehead. " Do you want something to eat? Your fever is going up again"

Jimin shakes his head, snuggling closer to the older, "No... Let's just sleep again"

"You need to take your medicine, sweetheart. You're not gonna feel better if you don't"

Jimin whines, tightening his grip around the older. "Just... let me rest for a bit... please hyung. It only gonna come back up, my stomach is too queasy now"

The older looks up at him, eyes full of worry and concern, "Alright.. fine. But let me take a cloth, okay? We need to get your fever down"

Jimin hums, closing his eyes and nods, "Okay", he murmurs, "But hurry"

"I forgot how clingy you are when you're sick", Yoongi mumbles as he left a peck on Jimin's burning forehead.

"You love me though", Jimin mumbles quietly, "Not when you're stubborn and making me worry like this", Yoongi mutters before he walk outside, giggling when he heard Jimin grunt inside.

"Hyung!!"

#bts sickfic #bts emeto #tw emeto #tw vomit #sick!jimin #caretaker!yoongi #caretaker!seokjin

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quokkalatte · 5 years

Text

Mixtape pt.5 [M.YG]

Part 5

Category: One-shot series

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Female! Reader

Summary: Living as an aspiring rap artist in Seoul, all you want to do is work on your music and try to get your name out there. Of course when you have someone as annoying and spiteful as Min Yoongi makes that extremely difficult. Until he decides to help you out.

Warnings: smut, language, some Namjoon action (which ofc is a warning cause oof), angry Yoongi, alcohol consumption, perhaps some angst but not really

Warnings for this chapter: alcohol consumption, language, Tae being a bit of a horndog in the beginning

Author's Note: ofc this is late again but I hope you enjoy this chapter! It's also short, contrary to what I promised last time I apologize. I promise it'll get more interesting in the future ;)

Tags; @notsolovelykarsyn @psychoticshawtyy

Could not be tagged: @deesixx2801

[Message me to be added to the Tag list so you can be tagged for future updates]

× × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × × ×

I hurried down the street, pulling my jacket close to my body, trying be to hold any remains of warmth I'd had since leaving my apartment. Seoul was covered in a thick layer of snow, the roads icy and slick and bundles of oil-based slush was built on either side of the road. People still continued on without a care in the world. It made me regret not getting a taxi or asking Jungkook to pick me up.

I shivered, turning the corner quickly and let out a sigh of relief when I saw the record store. It wasn't far from my apartment, but the cold made it a bitch to get too. I quickly pushed the door open, hearing the bell signal my arrival. I let out a loud groan when I felt the heat rush upon me, swathing me in warmth.

"Damn I haven't even touched you yet and you're already sounding like that" my eyes dart towards a figure leaning against the counter, shuffling through a magazine. His hair was tousled and messy and his cheeks flushed from the cold outside. Taehyung grinned when I rolled my eyes

"You wish" I walk past him and Taehyung chuckles

"I do. Isn't your little study group today?"

"Yes that's where I'm going" I say and Taehyung perks up immensely

"Hey you should ask if they'll let me help with the next Cypher. I've been asking but they never let me"

"And what makes you think they'll change their mind this time?" I raise my eyebrows just as Jimin came in from the back. His face split into a smile upon seeing me and he ruffled Taehyung's hair as he passed. Taehyung swatted at his hand.

"Wishful thinking?"

"Keep wishing then Tae. Maybe someday" I pat his cheek and he sticks his upper lip out and I laugh. I hop over the counter, much to Jimin's chargin, and quickly hurry up the steps. I heard the chatter of voices, and the room came into view. It was like Deja Vu all over again when the boys saw me. They immediately started their jeering.

"Well well well. I'd like to say I'm surprised, but I'm not" Jungkook teased. I rolled my eyes, throwing my bag at him it landed on his lap and he let out a grunt at the impact.

"May I ask why you're late?" Namjoon asks.

"Ice is slick Joon, and I didn't want to fall over. Excuse me for taking percaution" I roll my eyes, plopping next to Hoseok, who immediately threw his arm around me.

"Were glad you made it sunshine" Hoseok grins and I laugh. The only one who hadn't said anything was Yoongi, which was typical. Ever since he left abruptly nearly a month ago, we barely spoke. I'd asked him if Jin was okay, and he only replied with a 'Yes' and that was it. He never made more plans, never answered texts, and the past two meet ups he rarely spoke to me and it annoyed me to no end. I wanted to talk to him, ask him what the hell happened in my kitchen. It was like he was about to kiss me, and then he didn't. And now he was pretending like I didn't exist. It kind of hurt to be honest.

"Show us what you got. You said you finally added music to it" Hoseok says, bringing me out of my daze. I blink, and nod

"Yeah, yeah I did."I say, digging out my laptop, nervously setting it on the coffee table. The song was finally nearly developed. The rap was swift and sorrowful, the music paced to fit it exactly. I was just nervous how the boys would take it. They'd only read the lyrics, now it was fully recorded and ready for listening. I brought up the demo, pressing play and sitting back, nervously figetting the entire time. All three were silent as the rap filled the air, the music complimenting it nicely. It sounded upbeat to a nom-korean speaker, but the lyrics were of unrequited love, developed into harsh bitterness and deciding that it wasn't worth the pain, to get over it and move on. The last part wasn't fully true, I added it for some closure to the song but in reality I was nowhere near over Yoongi, even though he seemed he wanted nothing to do with me. The song ended, and Namjoon nodded, rubbing his hands together.

"It's amazing Y/n" he grins, and I sighed in relief. Hoseok and Jungkook eagerly agree.

"Of course you found a way to make the music compliment the lyrics. You're a genius" Hoseok says and I blush at the compliment "It's really sad Noona, but relatable" Jungkook comments. I thank all three of them, and subconsciously glance at Yoongi's silent form. Namjoon was the one who acted out.

"Yoongi?" He prompts the blonde. Yoongi glanced from the screen to me, and my heart clenched as I waited for his harsh critique. He always did that with our songs, pointing out the flaws while the rest gave good comments. He was the Simon Cowell of our group. But he didn't, he merely nodded his head

"It's good" Yoongi says, and that was it. The three of us were speechless, Jungkook's jaw was dropped and he looked at me with awe.

"You got hyung to compliment you Noona. You must be a goddess" he says, and I blush, shaking my head.

"Stop Kook while you're behind" I warn and he sticks out his tongue. I quickly shut my laptop and shoved into my bag. It was quiet for a couple of seconds, and then Namjoon cleared his throat.

"Okay, I guess now's a good time as any to announce this" he says, his tone nervous. "But last week I went over to another producing company and submitted my tape....and it got accepted" I gasped and the other three boys shouted and whooped. Jungkook threw his arm around Namjoon's shoulders and hugged him tightly. Namjoon grinned bashfully as we all hugged and congratulated him. His dimples were prominent and his cheeks flushed.

"That's great Joon I'm so proud" I say and he laughs, running a hand through his hair.

"Thanks guys" he mumbles.

"We should go out and celebrate that's great!" Jungkook says, and we all nod.

"Well, Jin wanted to throw a party this Saturday...." Namjoon trailed off. "So of course to guys are invited"

"We should get drinks though" Jungkook says "I'll drive"

"Not happening" Yoongi wrinkled his nose "the last time you drove is anywhere we ended up in a ditch"

"I didn't see the squirrel!" Jungkook wailed "And I've gotten better hyung you shouldn't lord that over me you're no better at driving" Jungkook pouts.

"I'll drive" Jimin leans in the doorway, keys dangling from his finger.

Half an hour later we all were sitting around a table, celebrating Namjoon's sucess. He was flushed and blushing, and kept saying how lucky he felt. Taehyung had accompanied us, always eager for free alcohol and food.

Everyone was laughing and enjoying themselves. Hoseok continues to congratulate Namjoon, who's face was flushed and became redder the more he drank. Jimin and Jungkook disappeared hours ago, and Yoongi seemed to be missing as well. After the 6th shot I was fuzzy and lightheaded, and wandered outside to breathe. The cool air immediately hit my skin and my eyes closed and I let out a sigh of relief. The music from the bar was faint outside, absorbed by the air and contained by the building.

"You really can't handle liquor can't you?" A voice said, and I turned to see Yoongi leaning against the side of the bar. His dark eyes were a light with amusement and I roll my eyes.

"I can handle it just fine"

"Please, three shots and your rolling on the floor" he snorts.

"Fuck off Yoongi I was actually in a good mood" I grumble, rubbing my forehead. Yoongi snickered,

"Sorry. Didn't mean to ruin your fun' he says. I glare at him. "What?"

"You're infuriating" you growl at him. He frowns, blinking in confusion.

"What're you talking about?" I stalk towards him, and take a step back, eyeing me warily.

"You. Are. Infuriating. Min Yoongi" each word was expressed with a poke to his sternum, and he watched with a dumb expression on his face, which expressed he had obviously had a few to drink.

"I was just teasing Y/n calm down" he rubs his chest sorely.

"Not about that!" I hiss.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Hoe about you ignoring me for the past month? How about you leaving me alone in my apartment to rescue Jin? Or how about the fact you were about to kiss me?" The questions fell from my mouth before I could stop them. The shots betraying me to Yoongi, who's eyes comically widened with each one. I was shaking, glaring at him to answer my questions. He went silent, reserving himself.

"That was a mistake" he mumbles

"What was?" I instigate further. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends and he wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Trying to kiss you. I shouldn't have tried that." Hurt shot through my chest at his confession, even if I asked him for the truth. It stung. He could tell, It's must have displayed on my features. He took a step towards me, guilt covering his face but I glared and took a step back.

"Well I'm sorry I'm such a mistake then" I hiss, turning to walk back into the bar. A hand wrapped around my wrist tightly and I was stopped in my place.

"Y/n wait- it's not like that. Please listen" Yoongi said, and it shocked me because it was almost like he was begging me. I turned to glower at him, tugging my hand from his grip, but I didn't move. Yoongi sighed, his head bent towards the ground and refusing to meet my eyes. "I don't think you're a mistake. You twisted my words, as you always do-"

"Watch it" I growl warningly

"-but I didn't kiss you because I didn't think you wanted me to" He finished without pause. I gave him a dumbfounded look.

"Wait, what?" Yoongi groaned, tugging at the ends of his hair and scowled at me like it was my fault he was so cryptic.

"I didn't think you wanted me to kiss you. I thought you didn't like me, and I figured there was someone else."

"What makes you think there was someone else?" I questioned angrily, folding my arms

"Your song" Yoongi says. This made me laugh. The alcohol in my system had me buzzing and I could feel it. It was Yoongi's turn to be angry at me. "Why are you laughing?" He demanded.

"What does my song have to do with me being with someone else Yoongi? It's about being rejected from someone and unreciprocated love."

"The ending is about getting over them" he says and I shook my head

"I added that part. I never got over him" I say sadly, knowing I'd regret admitting that when I woke up the next morning.

"So there is someone. See? That's why I didn't kiss you. You're still hung up over some jerk who's too stupid to notice your interest in him" Yoongi says. I was quiet, my eyes on the ground. Then I spoke softly

"It's you"

"What?" Yoongi frowned, not catching my words

"You. The song's about you" I mumble. He stared at me, his eyes beginning to widen. I could see his thoughts multiplying, forming the words of my song to fit with how he'd treated me so coldly when I just wanted his affection.Yoongi's heart thudded in his chest, all color drained from his body. He shook his head, and backed away

"No. Not possible" he mumbled

"Why not?" I demanded, but he shook his head again. Yoongi backed farther away when I approached him.

"No" He hisses, his voice suddenly full of venom and spite. I stepped back, shocked. Yoongi turned away, walking quickly down the street until he was out of sight. I watched the spot where he dissappeared. Rejection and hurt being my only voiced emotions. That's where Namjoon and the others found me, outside and crying. Their happy uplifted moods suddenly dropped upon seeing my tear streaked face. They tried prying my reason for crying out of me, but I refused to speak.

"Just please take me home" I mumble. Namjoon called Seokjin, who was in the midst of sleeping and scolded Namjoon for being out late, but agreed to come pick us up. 10 minutes later we were piled into his car and being driven home. He frowned when he noticed we were one short.

"Where's Yoongi?" He asks. All eyes turned on me, I was the only one who last saw him. I stared out the window solemnly, resentment boiling my veins.

"He can be in hell for all I care" I grunt out, and the car fell into since once more.

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