#AT THIS RATE IVE HAD ENOUGH. I GRAB MY SHIT AND TURN AROUND AND WALK OFF TOWARDS THE RIGHT DIRECTION | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flowerwrites06 · 3 years

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break my mind’s eye I — jjk

Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal.

Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle)

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 7k+

Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff

Tags & Warnings: drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution

Authors Note: finally i was able to conclude that bmme can be reposted!! please welcome back this precious gem of mine

The first time she saw was before one of her fashion shows. Small event compared to the likes of Gucci or Louis Vuitton but for her the biggest night of her life was about to happen. Unfortunately minutes before the show started, Belle got a call from her uncle to pick Taehyung up from their place and his tone sounded utterly bleak.

Walking away from a highly angered manager she rushed off to pick him up only to find him sitting outside on the porch in the cold wind, laughing a little to himself before swearing at no one. It was the first day Belle found out the things he had been taking.

Weed, ecstasy…she even found a small bag of cocaine hidden in his hoodie after getting him cleaned up.

“Where the hell did you get money for cocaine?” Belle tried to search his expression but Taehyung was too busy stumbling as he finally fell onto her bed.

“I know a guy. I promised to pay him back soon.” Taehyung mumbled turning to rest on his back, his limbs refused to stay still to a point where Belle started to get annoyed.

“Tae, how much do you owe this guy?” She asked, heart thumping a little knowing cocaine especially was not inexpensive and that mixed with other drugs…

His body being ruined was one heart-wrenching thing but she dreaded the amount of money this all cost.

Her brother stayed silent closing his eyes to let out a few breaths which caused her blood to boil even more.

Belle understood why Taehyung turned to something so putrid to relieve him of their recent troubles. There was a moment in time where she even thought to do so, maybe to ease some of the pain of they both went through. But it was getting out of hand.

The next morning Belle fixed him up a proper breakfast to distract him from taking another dose of the things he bought. Or was loaned anyway since he didn’t have a job or savings to pay for any of the products she found.

Taehyung didn’t even come to the table.

Instead as she walked towards the bedroom, she found him shirtless snorting something up his nose as he quickly threw his head back. Just hearing his sigh of relief made Belles’ stomach churn to near sickness.

Fuming, Belle grabbed whatever pieces of his stash she could find on the table and threw it in the bin pushing it away when he tried to savor anything that could be fished out. She saw his eyes widen so much that it almost seemed his eyeballs were going to fall on his hand.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” Taehyung yelled, voice growly while his nose still had remnants of white powder dripping and his eyes bloodshot more than ever. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to get shit like that?!”

“I don’t care, you’re done with this!” Belle stood her ground but kept her voice calm, her own glossy eyes fixated on his.

“You don’t fucking get it!” Taehyung winced, face contorting it looked like he was about to cry. “I need it, okay? And I got that shit from a guy that works in the Jeon Cartel!” He gestured over to the entrance of the apartment. “I can’t ask for anymore, I haven’t paid for anything.” He yanked at his hair whining under his breath like a spoiled child not getting the toy he wanted.

Belle shook her head slightly, tears forming at the brim of her eyes. “Tae…” Her voice grew shakier now. “How much do you owe them?” Her bottom lip quivered watching his chest rise and fall heavily.

He stayed silent averting his gaze.

“Taehyung.” Her tone quickly turned firm though her heart pounded painfully. “How much do you owe them?” Belle truly hated acting like the oldest between the two.

Taehyung used to take care of her every single day almost more than her own parents since they mostly focused on their oldest son because he had ‘a lot more potential’. Her stomach ached looking at all the potential slowly going down the drain right in front of her eyes.

“A few hundred…six…maybe seven…” Taehyung muttered trying not to look directly at her when he spoke. He probably knew exactly the kind of shock gripped her face and he was damn right.

Belles’ entire body turned cold, her fingers almost wanting to fish out the substances herself just knowing how much money it cost to get it. But she curled them up into fists wanting to look strong. “I don’t…know how it feels…I do know it hurts and I know why you’re doing this but…I can’t lose you too.” She whispered, vision getting blurry as a lump grew in her throat. “You’re my big brother, you’ve always looked after me.”

Taehyung bit down his bottom lip lowering his head in slight shame.

“Please let me look after you.” She pleaded in a whisper trying to search his expression, to see any sense of softness or thought.

Her brother sobbed a little, running his shaky fingers through his matted hair before nodding but still trying not to meet her gaze. “Okay.”

Belle let out a trembling sigh of relief, a tear escaping slowly down her cheek when she finally relaxed. “I have savings you can use to pay for the drugs you asked for.” She stated in a gentle tone this time as Taehyung stared at her, shaking his head.

“That’s your boutique money, you can’t—”

“Yes I can.” She forced a smile across her face to reassure him. “My boutique can wait. I want you to get better.”

Taehyung gulped down carefully padding over his sister before leaning his head on her shoulder at an attempt of a lazy hug. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered against the fabric of her sweater, a light whimper under his breath. “Thank you.”

The chill that spread through her body now warmed up as she wrapped her arms around her brother, feeling like the younger sister if only for a second. “Who do we have to pay?” Belle asked sniffling a little.

“My debts’ too high…” Taehyungs’ grip tightened around the girl. “…the guy who gave me the drugs tells me I need to go straight to the boss for questioning if I come back again.”

Oh god, Taehyung…what did you get yourself into?

Much to Taehyungs’ discontent, Belle insisted on coming with him with the envelope of the payment in her hand. She figured cash would be more believable instead of bank transferring especially since there was so much money piled up for just debt. Her older brother looked at her a little surprised at how well she knew how to maneuver these things. “Being in the fashion industry doesn’t just mean I draw and sew clothes, you know.” She replied simply as she drove the both of them to the address Taehyungs’ guy told him to go.

During the trip she wanted to mention how sneaky it was to just give them the address and not come along. But then again…this wasn’t exactly an ethical business to begin with.

Of course it wasn’t difficult in the slightest to find the Jeon household considering it was on the outskirts of the city. A large sandstone colored mansion with vines growing off of the sides and golden detail on the windows and pillars. They drove in front of the closed entrance where Taehyung told them his name and that he was being expected which thankfully caused the large gate to slide open with a painful screech sound.

Heart pounded so hard it could have ripped out of her ribcages, the hair on the back of her neck stood up and her palms a little sweaty. The guards lined up in front of the door with their suits and shades making her homemade white floral dress look like peasants work. Even from here she could recognize that those uniforms were not made from some random ordinary designer. Even though the design itself was quite ordinary.

Taehyung walked out of the car first before Belle followed suit.

As soon as she walked out, one of the guards held his hand out.

“Ma’am, the boss requests that you give away your car in the duration of the meeting.” He spoke in a robotic tone.

Belle wasn’t even sure if he was looking at her directly since the shades were so dark but she gave him her car keys anyway. The feeling of emptiness eerily seeping through her already nerve-wracked body. She couldn’t even begin to imagine how Taehyung must be feeling around all of this.

They were led into the mansion by three guards. The entrance was really just a big hall that stretched across the whole expanse of the building. When they passed a large open archway then Belle could see the furnished details; a few couches circled around in the middle of the large space with the fireplace behind the sitting, a bar on the far right with some maids tending to the dust while there were stairs on the left leading to the upper level.

Why would they want meet them personally for a few hundred dollars? It looked like a small loss looking at the quality of this whole building down to the outfits their guards were wearing.

Maybe it was more greed than the amount of the money.

“Please be seated. Master Jeon will speak to you shortly.” The same guard declared before moving back to his post and standing there like a statue.

Taehyung and Belle sat at the couch that faced the fireplace. Thankfully the maids were kind enough to turn it on since she hadn’t realized how cool it was going to be in the house. They offered them tea which they both turned down. An empty stomach meant less likely for her to throw up from the anxiousness. Taehyung, on the other hand, lost interest for food altogether barely eating anything but crumbs.

She noticed the hollowness of his cheeks and the darkness under his eyes. How long had it been since she saw a smile stretching across his lips? Taehyung used to be filled with light and passion beyond anything Belle had ever seen. He was the reason she pushed herself to pursue her own dreams despite the side-eyes from their parents. He defended her passion. He protected from unfair treatment always giving her shine he thought she deserved.

Now Belle had to repay the favor. She needed to encourage her brother to restart his path back to one that made him happy instead of one that slowly destroyed him to the core.

Footsteps brought her back out from her thoughts, eyes trailing over to the stairs. A tall built figure dressed in an all-white suit with a button-up shirt to match, loosely done up so his gold necklace could glimmer in the light. Belle noticed the gold cufflinks shimmering from his wrists. Hair styled somewhat neatly with a side part and strands hovering his eye when he moved, lips a rosy hue and his face looked for younger than she expected.

When people said ‘drug lord’ she imagined a stumpy old creep with similar attire except traditionally unkempt with facial hair and untrimmed chest hair that hung over their shirts.

Despite his pleasant appearance, Belle was not going to be blinded to the fact that this man thrived off of her brothers’ suffering.

The man finally met her gaze after only glancing a little at Taehyung before sitting down on the couch in front of them. Legs spread apart ever so slightly, he leaned back with one of his arms extended out. “Mr. Kim.” He spoke in a soft tone, eyes going back to her older brother now. “Do you recognize who I am?” He searched his expression.

Taehyung kept his head lowered but nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Who am I?” He pressed on like a father calmly scolding his child.

“M-Master Jeon Jungkook…” He muttered helplessly almost glancing up to meet his gaze but quickly looking down once again.

“So you do know…” Jungkook nodded, pressing his lips together. “Here I was thinking you consider me a joke. Taking bags and bags of my products while assuming I won’t try to track you down. Is that you what you thought of me?” His tone grew firmer.

Unlike Taehyung, Belle kept her head up, maintaining her gaze on the stranger. It seemed like Jungkook had a good eye for noticing when he flickered over to look at her instead.

“No, sir.” Taehyung shook his head frantically. “I-I just n-needed to get my money together.” He explained in a shaky voice not noticing that his precious ‘sir’ was staring at Belle a lot longer than she was comfortable.

Maybe he was waiting for her to duck her head down like her older brother.

The urge to do so was stronger than ever but Belle persisted. Until Jungkook glanced over at Taehyung again.

Her brothers’ fingers trembled violently at this point. Belle itched to comfort him somehow but she wanted him to try and face on his own to some extent. Coming here and sitting next to him was already being far too lenient but she couldn’t let him do this completely alone. Not when the healing process was so fresh and people like Jungkook would do anything to make sure he stayed addicted.

“Where’s the money?” Jungkook gestured towards him.

Belle took a small breath, placing the envelope on her lap onto the glass coffee table. “One of your men said he owed seven hundred.” She spoke up now trying to keep her voice as steady as possible even though her heart was beating out of control. “The envelope has eight just in case he wasn’t accurate.” A chilly feeling brushed over her body when her savings just sat there on the coffee table. Nothing but petty money for Jungkook but to her, it was the only way she could afford the vacant building in the city for her boutique.

“And you are?”

“His sister.” She muttered, glancing over at Taehyung who let out a deep sigh.

Jungkook stared down at the thick envelope for a few minutes with a raised brow. “Jongho…” He curled his fingers in towards a guard who quickly rushed over to stand beside him. “Please escort Mr. Kim to the second living room for a moment. I’d like to have a word with Ms…”

“Belle.”

“Belle…” The corner of his lip curled up before he gestured again towards the man called Jongho and he immediately led Taehyung away from them.

Belles’ heart raced seeing his helpless face looking back at her not sure if he was trying to apologize or if he was terrified of why they were being separated. “Why’re you taking him away?” She asked, being as polite as possible but her tightening fists told a different story.

“I’m not going to hurt him.” Jungkook murmured. He leaned in to rest his elbows on his knees, eyes searching her expression closely. “I thought it’d be better if I had a private conversation with a more steady minded person rather than your brother.” He nodded behind her.

Her brows furrowed glancing down at the closed envelope before staring up at him. “We got you the money, why do we need to have a conversation?” Belle’s voice was low just enough for only Jungkook to hear and no one else. Not that she could raise her voice even if she tried from how closed up her throat was.

“Because I’m honorable to an extent but I also hate people taking advantage of my kindness.” Jungkook shrugged lightly. “Your brother had been freely given all the products he consumed and he waited three months to give me my payment.” He let his sentence linger in the air to add more effect. “Three months of losing product and receiving no profit in return is not a risk I like making, Belle. Nor do I want to make it again.”

“So…what’re you saying?” Belle thought of the worst possible scenarios. Would they take Taehyung away and punish him? Or kill him? Was he being punished right now and Jungkook was just lying to prevent a scene? She watched his soft eyes trail up and down her form trying to be subtle but Belle caught it immediately feeling the urge to hide away into the couch.

“I’m saying the deal’s changed.” Jungkook declared in the most casual way like you would cancel a simple outing to the mall. “Look I can get money anytime I want to…you know that, don’t you?” He tilted his head a little searching her features. “I asked for this personal meeting on the basis of principle. Taehyung and many people like him need to understand that we stand by codes just as much as anyone. I’m not a money pig that just drools and accepts cash when it’s given to me.” He raised a brow.

Belle winced lightly, shaking her head. “Then why are we here? What do you want?”

Jungkook did nothing for a minute and gave her a soft smile. “Something he can take a little more seriously than cash…well—someone.”

Blood drained from her body from her aching head to her toes. Belle pierced into his smug gaze hoping…praying that he didn’t meant what she thought. The last thing she ever looked to be afraid of but now became the ultimate bane of her visit.

A visit thought to be quick and sweet with cash exchanged. How could she be surprised? These people wanted so much but still asked for more. What more could she expect from the man that took just to have the power to take some more? “Taehyung’s a good man.” She whispered. “He won’t do this again.”

“That’s what a lot of people tell me for years about their relatives or friends, Belle.” Jungkook murmured under his breath keeping the conversation to themselves despite the maids and guards standing around. “My grandfather heard it…my father heard it…every single time those people come back begging for more and then we get blamed for the dead bodies.” He sighed in slight defeat but she didn’t buy it in the slightest.

There was nothing noble about this request. If he were any other man gaining the audacity to say something like this, he would expect a hard punch on his nose. Except now it wasn’t just her own safety in question. Nor was Jungkook any ordinary man who could be taken by police or a punch looking at his build. “What am I supposed to do?” Belle murmured, heat flushing in her body making her more exasperated than grateful at the running fireplace.

Once again, a smile stretched across Jungkooks’ rosy lips. If it were taken out of context you’d think he was some sweet boy admiring something. But the reality was far from that lie. “You’re not going to be my prisoner, if that’s what you’re asking.” He smiled a little wider, eyes glimmering. “I’m not that evil.”

Debatable.

“You’re a lot more intelligent than you let on.”

“You just met me.”

“But I meet a lot of people…a little too many. So I tend to rely on first impressions and hope I’m right.” Jungkook shrugged.

“And if you’re wrong?”

He chuckled under his breath gesturing over to his guards. “They’re not there for decoration…and I don’t always negotiate like this. I’m just having a good day.” She saw his expression grow dark but the smile still remained making him look utterly sinister.

Visions of Taehyung tied to a chair, sobbing flashed across her mind making her mentally slap herself back to reality. She couldn’t look weak in front of him of all people. That’s what he wanted…for people to cower in front of him as he spewed his threats around to get everything he asked for. But denying him completely and storming out wouldn’t exactly be the smartest decision either considering she didn’t actually know where her brother was. The mansion was still mystery to her and Jungkook could easily hurt any of them as he so subtly stated with that stupid, fucking smile.

“So…what do you say, Belle? Do we have an accord?”

Taehyung was led back into the main living room, slightly yanking off of Jongho’ grasp and giving him a glare when he walked away. He looked over at Belle, her back facing him standing in front of Jungkook. “Belle?”

Belle looked over her shoulder and gave him a smile as she walked closer. She let out a sigh of relief seeing no sign of injury on the older male.

“Did he do something to you?” After the longest time, Taehyung sounded like an older brother again looking after Belle whenever she looked the slightest bit distressed. “What did he say?” He whispered.

She stayed silent, gaze lowered to look at his T-shirt before flickering up to force a smile at him. “It’s going to be okay.” Belle murmured. “He even offered to pay for your rehabilitation and get you back on your feet.”

Brows furrowed now gaining the urge to glance over at Jungkook but he couldn’t seem to stop searching his sisters’ expression. “Why would he want to pay for—”

“I told him to.” Belle gulped, smile fading away into a small frown.

“Belle, we can’t pay him back for all of that.” Taehyung held onto her bare arms feeling the cold skin underneath his.

She nodded. “Yes we can. He’s only asking for one thing.”

“…What?” He whispered.

Belle bit down her bottom lip, chin quivering a little before she smiled again even though her eyes grew glossy. “He wants me.”

Taehyungs’ heart plummeted making his whole body feel heavy. “No…” He shook his head, grip tightening around her arms as if she was going to disappear if he let go. “He can’t do that.”

“I agreed.”

“Belle!” It was more a loud whisper than anything but it managed to turn a few heads. “He’s going t—”

“I know what he’s going to do.” Belle rubbed his chest soothingly. “But this is the only way I can help you.”

“You have the money, why won’t he take it?” He gestured towards the envelope on the coffee table which now looked long forgotten.

Belle lowered her gaze. “Because he thinks you’ll just do it all again. He doesn’t trust you.”

“And you trust him?” Taehyung retorted causing heat to bubble up inside Belle.

“I trust you to do your part in this promise.” She tightened her jaw, wincing as the lump in her throat grew painful. “Unless you have a better idea to escape a pissed off drug lord then you will do this.” Tears flooded at her eyes threatening to escape but her gaze persisted on him. “Please promise me you’ll try to get better from now on.” Her lips quivered. “I didn’t know how else to help you. But now you need to help me. You need to heal and get back on your feet.”

Taehyung brushed against his fingers through the hair rested on her shoulder. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.” Belle shook her head as an attempt to reassure him but he didn’t look at all convinced. “I’ll be fine.” She smiled faintly, a few tears escaping down her cheeks which he wiped off gently.

“I’m so sorry…” He whimpered, fingers curling around her hair. “This is all my fault, I should’ve just come here on my own.”

“He would’ve killed you.”

“But you’d be happy.”

Belle chuckled sadly. “You really think I’d be happy if I lost you?”

“But you wouldn’t be here.” Taehyung side glanced over at the guards who looked completely unfazed by the whole ordeal while Jungkook had his back turned to them, gazing out into the garden outside.

“Everything’s going to be fine.” Belle wasn’t sure if that was directed at her brother or herself. Was this meant to be her big fork in the road? The path she was supposed to determine her whole life. Maybe her parents were right. Maybe she was amount to only one thing… but she’d be caught dead before she cowered begging before people like Jungkook. If he wanted her then he could have her. But he’d be an idiot to think she wasn’t going to use that to her own advantage one day. “We’re allowed to see each other so you’re not losing me, okay? I’ll be there whenever you need me.”

Taehyung sighed in frustration averting his gaze, boring holes in the back of Jungkooks’ head with his glare. “I want to kill him.”

“Then we’ll never get out of here.” Belle replied simply.

Finally Taehyung succumbed to his sisters’ wishes, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead before letting go, physically deflating as he was led out of the mansion by one of the guards.

One of them, same Jongho walked over to her. “I’ll drive him back safely, Ms. Kim.” He gave her a reassuring smile before following Taehyung out of the mansion.

The double doors closed blocking out whatever light that came from it leaving her empty.

“Taehyung will call you when he gets home. So you know he’s safe.” Jungkook spoke up now in a gentle tone but Belle kept her back to him. “And your personal belongings will be moved here in a few days.”

She licked her lips before lowering her gaze, letting a few silent sobs before wiping the tears away. “Where can I freshen up?” Belle looked down at her fingers seeing the light mascara smudges, trying to wipe at the corners of his eyes to wipe any traces away.

Jungkook seemed like he gestured towards one of the maids because a kind looking woman padded over and touched her on the shoulder.

Her grey hair wrapped up in a bun and the smile lines around her face showed when she gave her a sweet grin, making her look like the only person that seemed somewhat trustworthy in this building. “Let’s go upstairs, dear.” She held onto her arms and led her towards the stairs. “I’ll get some new clothes sent up as well.”

Belle didn’t glance at Jungkook but she could feel his gaze on her when she was led up the stairs to the now shared master bedroom.

Similar to what a hotel suite would look like, the master bedroom adorned a modern design with an opaque black curtains drawn to keep the room cool and ambient with the warm lights. A king-sized bed with classic white sheets with some gold detail matching the aesthetic of the whole mansion itself. There was a marble partition that had a small gap on the bottom with a modern looking fireplace on to keep the room warm, situated on the immediate left when they walked in.

On the other side of the partition was a desk with a closed laptop and some files. Another open archway on the right that led to a walk-in-wardrobe with lit up shelves that accentuated all the different shoes and shirts.

Upon walking through the archway into the wardrobe, on the right, there was the private bathroom just as big as every other small area in the monster of a bedroom.

Belle was led into the bathroom by the kind maid where she saw a shower that could have been the size of her laundry room, a sink just in front of it with a bathtub on the far end. The white bathtub contrasted against the grey marble floor with a large window that showed a forest-like view.

“It’s an illusion.” The maid explained as if to reassure her that her baths were not going to be displayed out into the world. “The Master asked for a glass case that held shrubs but the foggy forest is an intricate painting by one of the familys’ personal artists. He likes the feeling of being disconnected from the modern world when he’s relaxing.”

Normally the design would impress her greatly. The idea of having the illusion of a calm forest without the hassle of actually moving to one was genius and the greyish light gave the bathroom a relaxing morning feel. Right now however it made her feel more trapped than ever. Even the view outside was just an illusion in her new cage. Nothing felt solid and real at this point like Belle was a ghost floating around in a dream that never seemed to end.

“Your towels are over on the stand there, dear. I’ll have robes and a change of clothes brought to you outside soon.” The maid smiled patting her lightly on her arm. “Don’t fret too much, darling. I don’t think the master has any intention of hurting you.”

“It’s not him hurting me that’s making me nervous.” Belle smiled sadly, grateful that the woman even cared to reassure her somehow.

“Ah…” The maid smiled and nodded knowingly. “I’ll get you some of my special tea…it calmed me down on my wedding night.”

Belle’s heart sank seeing the woman smile at her a little sadly too. “Is the secret ingredient whiskey?” She tried to lighten the mood which successfully made the woman chuckle. Somehow seeing the way the woman helped her in her own way reminded her of why she was in this glass case in the first place. She remembered Taehyung smiling again, throwing away all the things that tarnished all the peace in his heart and being free. She needed to be strong.

“Not really but…I’ll see what I can do.” She whispered the last bit with a cheeky smile before turning on her heel to leave Belle in a few moments of solitary freedom at the very least.

It may have been dark by now.

At least when Belle peeked the slightest outside the curtained window, the sun had been dipping into the hills to give the sky a pinkish hue. Her heart pounded at the lack of notifications from her brother. Her body felt fresher now that she had a comfortable long white nightie with a thin robe to keep her arms somewhat cozy. But skin still heated up significantly with her anxiety.

Then minutes passed before her phone buzzed and her heart released a thousand sighs of relief seeing Taehyung’s name.

“Belle?”

“Yes it’s me.” Belle whispered with a biggest grin on her face from the sheer relief. “You went home okay? They didn’t hurt you?”

“No, no they were just… fine.” Confusion trailed in Taehyung’s voice. “That guy has way too much fucking power, they just dropped me off and left saying they’ll come back to drop me off at the rehab center. Normally his men tried to rough me up whenever they saw me.”

“That’s because they knew you’re the guy that doesn’t pay.” Belle cringed mentally hearing herself defend their actions but…she was a little too good at considering perspectives, she guessed.

“I guess…also I’m the one who’s supposed to be asking you if you’re okay.” Taehyung corrected but Belle let his words linger in the air for a moment.

Sitting in the luxury bedroom wearing a clearly quality robe with people working at her beck and call, in a first glance people would call her lucky. Digging deeper into the surface and seeing that Belle was manipulated into being in his position then people would call Jungkook a monster.

Was it only one of them? Was it both? Was it neither? Was this just a game that Belle had no choice but to play for a time until her brother got better? How far did Jungkook even think this through? Why was he so interested in manipulating Taehyung the most? Did he do this to every sister, brother or parent that came around? Did they even come this far?

“Belle, you still there?”

“Yeah…yeah, I’m okay. I’m just sitting.” She quickly explained.

The thoughts crowded in her head making it ache but thankfully the maid—her name she found out was Nana—gave her a piping hot cup of tea apparently laced with some herbs that helped calm anxiety and nerves. It was an ancient herb given to young girls so they could go through their wedding night without having an anxiety attack or breaking down. Blowing away some of the steam, Belle took a few sips ignoring the bitter taste on her tongue.

“I don’t know what he wants yet but I think I have an idea.” Belle spoke solemnly.

“You really don’t have to do this, Belle.” Taehyung whispered desperately.

“We don’t have any other choice.”

“You could just come back home and I’ll just handle it.”

“You had three months to handle it.” Her voice grew firm quicker than she even expected but she kept her head cool. Silence ran on the other end of the line making Belle sigh to calm herself down. “We just need to keep our heads. We’ll be fine.” She didn’t mean to make her tone sound so dreary but this wasn’t exactly the cheeriest of moments in her life. Her fingers absentmindedly played with the fabric of her soft nightie trying to empty her mind for a little while. “I need to go, okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Okay…Belle…”

“Yeah?”

“…I love you. Be safe.”

The lump in her throat grew again suffocating her when she forcefully swallowed it down. “I love you too.” Belle whispered before hanging up. Taking longer sips from her tea now, it took a few seconds for her feel her limbs loosen like ice melting near a fireplace. Her body cooled down from her heated anxiety to a comfortable warmth she could melt into without the worries of the troubles around her.

For a moment, she could close her eyes and relish in the new found relief wanting to silently thank Nana for providing her this cup of momentary tranquility.

The door opened with the familiar white-suited man walking in giving her a glance as he shrugged his blazer off. “Nana got you some clothes…good.” Jungkook muttered, walking into the walk-in wardrobe and placing his blazer back before taking off his cufflinks when he walked back in the bedroom. “Is it comfortable?”

“Yes.” Belle replied, brushing her palms across the smooth sleeves of the robe. She never worked with satin a lot but whenever she felt it under her skin it gave her the tingle of pure luxury. “I just spoke to Taehyung…he came home safe.”

“I told you he would.” Jungkook murmured, unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging it off his shoulder before placing into a hamper for the maids to take care of.

Belle noticed the stencil like silhouette of a phoenix etched into the right side of his chest as he walked over to his side of the bed. “You kept to your word. Thank you.” Not that you deserve it but…common courtesy.

She caught a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips while he unbuckled his belt and threw it on the floor.

“Do I sense a little bitterness, Ms. Kim?” Jungkook mused.

“Why? You don’t like a little bitter taste on your tongue?” Snakes must get used to it by now, she thought.

“I know you’re not a fan of me.” He stated the fucking obvious. “But you could say no anytime. I’ll just deal with your brother without bothering you again.”

Belle tightened her jaw, gripping onto the fabric of her nightie averting her gaze forcing a long silence to plunge into the room.

Jungkook finally sighed. “I didn’t mean that.” He muttered but Belle was mostly trying to focus back on the relaxation the tea gave her again. “Our accord is as solid any other contract so I’m not allowed to touch your brother…while you’re still with me anyway.”

“Is this how you get all your girls?”

He chuckled walking over and standing in front of Belle, forcing her to look up at him. “Would you be pleased if I said no?” Jungkook placed an index finger under her chin while his thumb hovered for a moment over her lips.

“Only if it’s the truth.” Belle replied simply, her knees melting into the surface of the bed.

Jungkook smirked moving his hands into her hair. “I don’t invite just anyone in my bed, no. But you’re not just anyone.”

“Why do you think that?” She asked as he slowly leaned in closer, fingers sliding down the crook of her neck letting the sleeves of her robe and nightie slip down with a mere touch.

“Because you were the only one brave enough to come this far.” He whispered pushing down the other side of her sleeves to leave her shoulders exposed. “Girls love the bad boys but never seem to understand what they’re asking for.” Cold fingers brushed against her collarbones, across her chest up her neck until he finally caressed her bottom lip with his index finger.

They want a fairytale. Beauty and the Beast. But eventually they find out that the Beast was never a prince in the first place. They realize that a mere kiss won’t break the curse.

“You know exactly what you’re asking for… don’t you?” Jungkook asked in a tone of a warm coo.

I’m not asking for this, Belle bit her tongue. But I do know what I’m getting myself into. What you gave me no choice but to get into. She stared at him determined to keep his gaze no matter how much she wanted to close her eyes. He wasn’t going to overpower her, not in that way. I received a beast instead of a prince…but you’re not getting any vulnerable fucking princess either. Keeping her eyes on his, she parted her lips and took his finger into her mouth barely waiting for Jungkook to make any move before she began suckling on it.

“Of course you do.” The mere action was enough of an answer for the male as his smirk grew darker. Jungkook took his finger away pushing down her nightie and robe further down until her breasts were displayed to him.

Belle was grateful for the warmth from the fireplace spreading through the room at his point. But in mere seconds Jungkook used his glistening finger to brush across her nipple causing it to stand erect almost instantly. A light gasp caught in her throat as she pressed her palms on the surface of the bed making her chest push out a little. When she threw her head back a little, he quickly took the opportunity to devour her lips, tongue pushing against her teeth which she kept clamp shut.

Long enough for him to get impatient and bite down her bottom lip a little. Then she allowed him to push through and explore her mouth. Jungkook knelt down but kept their lips locked as he sneaked his hands under her nightie, pushing the soft fabric, nails grazing against her skin causing a tingle down her spine.

Belle lifted a little to let him push the dress further up until he completely pulled both pieces of clothing off over her head. Before she could even comprehend her exposure, he picked her up a little and shifted so she could rest her head on the silk pillows. Her heart raced against her ribcages but she stopped being sure of why at this point, instead she thought about the herbs Nana gave her. Maybe thinking about how it can help would psychologically increase its effects? Stupid but maybe.

When she looked down at the male out of curiosity, she saw him discard his pants and boxers before climbing back onto the bed.

Belle kept her legs closed loosely before he pushed them apart, hands gliding down her inner thighs to her panties. His thumb pressed against the clothing right against her hiding nub making her jerk her hips a little at the suddenly awakened nerves.

He didn’t waste any time to hook the hem of her panties and strip it off her before dipping down in between her legs. His mouth feasted on her clit, tongue licking around her slit before sliding in teasingly slow and moving back to suckling on her bundle of nerves.

Her chest rose and fell as her eyes focused more on the ceiling, biting onto her bottom lip, light whimpers emitting from under her breath.

Jungkook released her clit with a pop sound before settling his hips between her legs. His already hardened shaft teased her slit a little more, wet sounds tickling her ears before she felt him stretch her out.

A moan finally erupted from her throat, clenching around him making him groan.

“It’s okay…” He whispered in her ear when she turned her head to the side. “Does it hurt a lot?”

Belle’s head felt like it was trying to find a straight line in a completely scribbled piece of paper. Her core ached for a moment. She felt Jungkooks’ thumb rub at her clit making her walls relax a little as she focused on the light wash of pleasure rushing across her lower body. Slowly she shook her head moving back to face him again. “No…it’s okay.” She whispered, meeting his gaze when he still wasn’t moving. Leaning up she pressed a shy kiss on his lips.

It took mere seconds before Jungkook began moving in and out of her, still slowly rubbing circles on her erect clit.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, their foreheads pressed against each other as he grinded into her slightly nudging the spot that sent sparks through her body.

His pace quickened, both hands pressed down on the surface of the bed as he thrusted into her in a steady pattern letting the sounds of skin slapping linger in the air.

Belles’ skull felt numb, her mind locked up all her thoughts and allowed her body to succumb to his consistent pounding. Head threw back against the pillow as he chased his own orgasm, her own juices spluttering onto his lower belly. She hummed lightly under her breath which seemed to encourage Jungkook to go faster until the bed started to shift.

Jungkook lowered down a bit more, pressing wet kisses on her neck, trying to muffle his moans against her skin as his thrusts grew sloppy.

Belle felt a gentle wave of pleasure before Jungkook quickly pulled out with his release splattering all over her belly. She let out a small sigh, rubbing circles on her clit again to prolong her small climax before her bundle felt too sensitive to touch making her legs close up again. She watched the other male catch his breath still kneeling in front of her before crashing on the space beside her.

Whatever piece of physical satisfaction swirled around her body melted quickly into her chest clenching painfully. It didn’t take too long for her to notice all too clearly what spilt on her skin but Jungkook had already pulled out a wash cloth and wiped her clean. The traces still burrowed in her mind now.

Jungkook threw the wash cloth away before resting back on the bed again, shutting his eyes for a moment. Both of them catching their breaths and finally dwindling back to their fucked up reality.

“I can’t break this deal.” He murmured looking up at ceiling similar to her. “If I do, I’ll have to kill your brother.”

Belle swallowed the lump in her throat, a small tear spilling from the corner of her eye. “Am I supposed to be your sex toy until you’re done with me?”

“Contrary to popular belief, I’m not allowed to have…sex toys.” Jungkook sighed. “There’s another reason why I changed the deal.”

She finally turned her head to face him, brows furrowing. “What did you not tell me?”

The male took a deep breath before meeting her gaze. “My uncle and aunt have been forcing me to get married to someone of their choice. It’s gotten so pressing to a point where they’ve paid them to seduce me so it doesn’t look arranged.” Jungkook explained, running his fingers through his hair before resting on his head on his arm. “My rejections have stopped working. So I thought I should get a courtship with someone I choose before I’ll have to succumb to my uncle and aunts’ wishes.”

Belle could practically hear her own heart slamming out of her ears, more tears burning in her eyes. “So… you just…saw me and decided that you were going to make me your wife?”

“Did you want me to ask for your parents’ blessing or something?”

She averted her gaze back to the ceiling. “My parents are dead.”

“…I didn’t—”

“Of course you didn’t fucking know, we don’t know each other.” Belle inhaled a shaky breath before closing her eyes to calm herself down.

You are a fucking beast.

“Darling I gave you a chance to turn back.”

“So you wouldn’t hurt my brother.”

“Your brother was already dead if he kept going the way he did.” Jungkook winced a little before sighing in frustration. “I told you I’m not trying to be evil. A lot of people look at me when they want to see power. The world I live in chews up people who are too merciful.”

“My brother is innocent.” Belle sobbed lightly, forcefully biting down her bottom lip.

“He’s vulnerable to what I offer. Did you really think he was going to stop taking drugs just because he paid the money?” Jungkooks’ question lingered in the air for a while. “Correction: just because you paid the money.”

“So you want me to be your wife…” She swallowed thickly. “…or you’ll kill my brother.”

“When you say it that way, I do sound evil.” Jungkook pondered. “But yes. Everything else in the deal still stays the same. You’re free to do whatever you want.”

“Except leave you.” Belle corrected.

“Except leave me.” Jungkook confirmed in the most casual fucking tone ever.

Belle did nothing but stay silent and turn to her side, back facing him making the male sigh in slight defeat. She felt his hand on her shoulder squeezing slightly as if it was going to give her any kind of comfort.

“A lot of marriages can be worse than this, you know.” He squeezed it again. “You’re going to have to work with me for this to run a lot smoother, yeah? You did so well today.” Jungkook pressed a gentle kiss on her shoulder. “I promise it won’t feel so bad after a while.”

She knew now. Kissing the beast didn’t break the curse.

It made one.

NEXT CHAPTER >>

#jungkook #thebtswritersclub #jungkook imagines #bts imagines #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #bts fanfiction #tw: smut #tw: dubious consent #jungkook mafia au #bts mafia au

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127-mile · 3 years

Text

Damsel in distress.

Pairing: Hero!Kun x fem.reader.

Genre: Hero/villain!au, feelings realization / Angst, fluff, mature content.

Warnings: Smut (thigh riding, handjob), violence, blood, injuries, revenge seeking, mention of nightmares, of shadows, vulgar language (reader curses a lot).

Plot: More commonly referred to as Kun by his friends, and Pyro by the citizens, he is a hero. He is adored by the citizens, and it is rare to find someone who does not know his name, or the way he handles fire. You know him too, and for many reasons.

One day, he found you, what he thought was a damsel in distress. You were, yes, but only to get to him.

Word count: +15.9k.

A/N: This is part of the Twisted Truths collab hosted by @yangyanghater.

+ I really hope this fits the theme of the collab, if not, well, I’ll write something else.

Your breathing is rapid, and choppy.

You know that if you do not calm down within a minute, you will pass out right in the middle of the deserted and dark alley where you are. It was a bad idea to go down an alley, you know, but being in a street surrounded by houses would have turned out to be just as pointless. The crime rate is so high that locals turn off their lights and pretend they do not exist when they hear someone calling for help. Sometimes they'll call a hero agency, but that's very rare. They prefer to remain anonymous, and observe from behind their windows.

You do not blame them, you would certainly do the same if you were in their situation. But at the moment, it doesn't really help. When you feel tears rolling down your cheeks, you wipe them with the palms of your hand, which is also a bad idea, because the blood from your hands spreads more on your skin, and the metallic smell makes you gag hard enough for some bile to go up in your throat. "Help, please help me." you sob weakly, ready to give up your race to drop onto the asphalt to wait for your inevitable death.

A sudden rush of adrenaline makes your legs move before you can stop them, and when your vision clears a little, you notice that you have stepped out of the alley. The streetlights help you see your surroundings, and even though you move further and further away from your apartment, you are a little safer. No villain would dare to attack you right in the middle of the busiest street in town, right?

Your blood runs cold when you hear the growl of the Beast chasing you, and ignoring the burn in your legs and lungs, you start to run again. You do not know where you are going, and why you do not look for a place to hide instead, but you run. You run until you come in direct contact with someone. Your chest hits hard against the chest of a man who has little time to catch your hand before you fall on your butt.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" the man says, and you shake your head. You are not in pain, but for a moment, you feel like you are losing all sense of direction, and the little bit of sanity you have left. "Are you okay? You are bleeding!" even though your eyes are closed, you can feel the man crouch down in front of you, and he takes your arm where what you think is a cut continues to bleed. He grimaces, and cups your face to force you to look at him. "Answer me."

When you open your eyes, you are surprised to find large dark eyes starting at you. Even if he wears his civilian clothes, it would be hard not to recognize Pyro, the hero. You grab his t-shirt, oblivious to the traces of blood you leave on the white fabric. "Help me, I'm begging you, he is chasing me." the pro-hero frowns, and sits up looking around. "Who is?" you shrug, and when he lowers his head, you see flames dancing in his eyes.

"I'll take care of it, but taking care of the victims is a priority." he mumbles more to himself than to you. "Can you stand up?" he asks, and when you shake your head, he is pulling his cell phone out of the pocket of his pants. He types a message, probably to notify another hero from his agency that he needs backups, and when he is done, he turns to you. "I'll call an ambulance."

That simple sentence seems to be what your body needed to give up the fight. Your limbs go numb, and the darkness embraces you tenderly. You feel your head banging against the asphalt, and the pain radiating through your neck and jaw, but that's it, after that it's a mix of noises, movements and then nothing. Complete darkness.

When you regain consciousness, you know that you are no longer on the streets, and for a minute, you wonder if this was not just another nightmare. "Don't move." a voice commands you when you try to turn, and that's when you feel it. The pain in your body, a sharp but fleeting pain. You open your eyes, and you close them when you are attacked by the rays of the sun. "Oh shit, sorry." the voice mumbles.

The person in the room with you is busy closing the curtains, and you are grateful for that. You flutter your eyelids, and when you finally see where you are, you are hardly surprised to see a white room, to hear the steady beep of your heartbeat on the monitor, and to smell the disinfectant smell that is often the one in hospitals. An IV prevents you from moving your right arm the way you want, but it's for your own good, you think.

"How are you feeling?" the voice asks you, and when you finally look at the person, you frown when you see him. Pyro. Why is he here? Yes, he was with you on the street when you passed out, but he should not be by your bedside, the police should be. "I feel like I've been run over by a dozens of cars." you answer with difficulty, your throat dry. "Yeah, I suspected as much. The doctors said your body was really at its limit when we brought you here last night."

With a nod of his head, he points to your other arm, and you see the bandage covering part of it. "They gave you 9 stitches, and they injected you with an antidote to combat the poison the villain injected you when he bit you." poison? It is a lot for your poor head which is ready to explode at any moment. You are also very tired, but you have questions for the hero. "Pyro? Why are you still here?" you ask in a weak voice, and he sits down on a chair that has been brought closer to the edge of the bed.

"You can call me Kun, I'm not here as a hero." he explains, and you nod. "Unfortunately neither I nor my colleagues were able to track down the villain who attacked you last night, so we are taking turns to make sure he does not come back here to finish what he started." yeah, that makes sense, even though you do not know what the villain would like to end, when you do not know why he started chasing you in the first place.

"The doctors said that apart from the tiredness of your body caused by the poison, and the injury to your arm, you have nothing worth staying in the hospital for a few more days. So you will be allowed to go out tonight, do you have relatives with whom you could stay until the situation calms down?" he asks, and you bites your lower lip. This is painful. "No, I am alone here." your answer does not seem to please the hero who crosses his arms against his chest. "We can have heroes stand guard oustide your house."

"I live in an apartment complex with a majority of seniors. Seeing heroes outside my door 24/7 might worry them." Kun sighs, letting his head drop back, and you admire the column of his throat and the way his adam's apple bob as he swallows. It's definitely not the best time to think about it, but Pyro is quite a handsome hero. "No need to worry about me, I'm sure the villain will not come back. I was just a victim who got in the wrong place, at the wrong time."

Kun seems to be thinking, and he stands up to take a piece of paper and a pencil. On it, he writes two phone numbers that he gives you. "Here you have my agency number, and here you have my personal number. If you ever have the suspicion that you are being followed, or hearing noises behind your door, at any time of the day or night, you can call me. I'll send a few of my heroes to check on you every now and then without worrying anyone."

It's definitely not a good idea, Kun knows, but he can't force you to live with heroes outside your door. And the kids at the Hero Academy would get even more attention, even though they are all extremely gifted for their age. "I'll do it, thank you Py-Kun." he nods, and he looks at the bedroom door before getting up from the chair again. "The police is here to take your statement. I'll be outside if you need anything."

Like Kun had said, the doctors let you out after dark. And they even called a cab so you would not have to walk back to your apartment, which is really sweet of them, you think as you are looking at the city behind the car window. The hero had to leave while you were talking to the police, a villain problem in the streets, at least that's what you understood as he was apologizing loudly for having to leave so early.

When the car pulls up in front of your apartment complex, you give the driver some money before getting off. Nothing is different from last night, although you may had expected to find a horde of villains waiting to kill you. And going up the stairs to the door of your apartment is calm, you meet an elderly person who asks you where you were last night, and that's about it. Nothing life threatening.

You close the door behind you, and you press your back against it, sighing. You slid down until you are sitting on the floor with your eyes closed. You feel like your skull is going to split open if you do not stop moving or even breathing. It is attrocious. "Come on, let's calm down." you whisper, pressing the palm of your hands to your eyes. "Everything is fine. We are fine."

After several minutes, you get up.

In the bag the nurse gave you before leaving, you take out your cellphone. The screen is cracked, but it still works, giving you the opportunity to see the various messages and missed calls from a couple of your friends. You do not read them, only the last one.

From Ten: Where are you? Did it work?

You sink onto your couch, trying to ignore the black dots playing in front of your eyes, and your headache. You could call Ten to make it easier, but you do not know if you can bear to hear him yell at you. Not tonight. Tomorrow maybe.

To Ten: I just got back from the hospital. I'm at my apartment now.

Ten's response is immediate.

From Ten: Fuck. From Ten: Do you want me to come? To Ten: Please, don't. I'm tired, and I have a terrible headache, I just want to sleep it off. Tomorrow. From Ten: Okay, I'm here if you need anything.

You turn off your phone, it will be easier for you, and you grab a blanket to cover yourself up, face included. And in less time than you would have thought, you fall asleep. Sadly, like every night, you wake up in the middle of the night feeling like you are being suffocated by someone or something. You remove the blanket, your breathing heavy and rapid, and you look around. Nobody is here. Like always.

You mumble a few insults at no one in particular, and you sit up. Beads of sweat slide down your face, and you can feel them down your spine. At least your headache is gone, and you do not know if it's because your body is still asleep, but you do not feel like all of your limbs are numb and sore anymore. That's a good thing, you hope.

You prick up your ears when you hear whispers behind the door, and you stand up silently. Of course, since you and luck are not friends, your floor creaks with every step you take towards the door. But luckily it's not loud enough to be heard by anyone in the hallway. You glance through the peep-hole, and sigh in relief when you see two people. According to the clothes they are wearing, they are heroes. You remember seeing them on TV when Pyro opened his own agency.

You know they are there to check that your door is still intact, and that no one is hiding in the common places, but you open the door anyway, startling the two heroes who turn to you. At least, they have the decency to look ashamed having woken you ip at 3 in the morning. "We didn't mean to wake you up." one of them whisper, and you nod. "Don't worry, it's okay." you place your hand against your mouth to hide a long yawn that makes the second hero smile. "Nothing to report?" he asks, and you shrug. "Nothing at all. But like I told Pyro, nothing will happen to me, don't waste your time here."

The man, with his long blond hair and his teasing smile, shrugs his shoulders. "It's our job miss, maybe you can thank us later with a drink, or two." you roll your eyes, and you return inside the apartment, closing the door in front of the two heroes. The first hero punches the other, who whines loudly, earning him a second punch. "Johnny, you are such an idiot. We are here to work, not flirt with the person we are supposed to be protecting!" he mumbles, and Johnny, as you learnt, chuckles softly. "I didn't say she had to do it right now, you really need to chill Yuta."

Unsurprinsingly, you spend the next day in your bed, sleeping. Your headache did not come back, and the wound on your arm stopped stinging, and you had no nightmares during the 20 hours you spent sleeping. Maybe you could get attacked by a villain more often, it would allow you to get through a full night without being bothered by the shadows.

When you come out of the bathroom after a long, hot and well-deserved shower, you find your phone on the coffee table, and when you turn it on, you see Ten and Doyoung bombarding you with messages. You sit on a chair around the dining table, and dials Ten's number for a video call, which he answers almost immediately. He is not alone, Doyoung is sitting next to him on a dirty and dusty old leather sofa.

"Oh my god, we thought you died overnight." Ten says in a calm manner which contrasts with the anger evident in Doyoung's eyes. "What happened to you?" he asks with clenched teeth. "That fucking villain turned out to be more dangerous that I thought. I thought we said no injury, or at least nothing serious?" you mumble, and the boys frown. "What are you talking about?"

You show your arm still wrapped in a bandage in front of the camera. "That motherfucker decided to bite me, and to inject his fucking poison in me! The doctors had to inject me with some antidote so I wouldn't fucking die." you spit, and Ten and Doyoung look at each other, worried. "It was not in the plan." you let your shoulders drop before crossing your arms over your chest. "No shit Sherlock, I was there when we put together this stupid plan."

"Do you want us to come?" Doyoung asks after calming down, and you shake your head. "No, Pyro has asked several heroes to come and check that nothing is happening to me." Ten grimaces, he knows that if he steps outside, he will be immediately recognized by the heroes, and not just those belonging to Pyro's agency. "I will come, don't take the risk to approach my apartment." the two boys nod, and you end the video call.

You walk over to the front door, and you look in the peep-hole and you are relieved to see that the heroes are not here. You go back to your room to get dressed, before putting on a coat and a scarf in which you can nuzzle your face in. Pyro has not told you that you were not allowed outside by yourself, but you do not want to risk being recognized by him, or by one of his hero friends. You do not want to be forcibly taken back to your apartment, or locked in a hotel room like he said could be a good and safe idea.

You leave your apartment, swinging your backpack over your shoulder, and you leave the building quickly. A car is parked in front, and you see the flashy colors of what must be a hero costume. Luckily, he is too busy looking on his phone to notice you. The rest is also easy, you know the way like the back of your hand, and in twenty minutes, you are already at the door of the bookstore where Doyoung, Ten, and probably Taeyong are waiting for you.

You push the door open, and you smile at Renjun, the young student who works here during the school break when he is not living on the second floor. "Y/n! How are you?" he asks, approaching to give you a quick hug. "I'm doing just fine, and you kid? School?" he nods, smiling. Renjun is an orphan whom you all took under your wing a few years ago, and he has became a perfect little gentleman with good grades, and a smile that would make you blind if you looked at it for too long. "I'm fine, and school is going great too."

"I am proud of you!" you say, and he smiles even more brightly before the door to the bookstore opens to a potential client. "I'm going in the back to talk to the boys, if you need anything come see us, okay?" he nods and you ruffle his hair before you walk though a door behind the counter. The back shop serves as a reserve for books, and as a meeting place. It's not much, a coffee table, a TV hanging on the wall, and two old, dusty sofas on either side.

Oh, and there's a fridge and cupboard filled to the brim with snacks in case Renjun gets hungry. Or Taeyong. Ten and Doyoung's gaze turn to you, and Ten is the first to stand up. He helps you remove your bag, scarf and coat before inspecting the bandage. "I'm fine, Ten. Otherwise I would not be here." he shakes his head. "I know that, but nobody can be trusted. Who tells you they didn't inject you with something weird with the antidote." he mumbles and you tilt your head. "Idiot."

"No but it is true what, since when do we trust doctors." he says, offended and you roll your eyes before sitting down on the other couch. "Because they are doctors, and what would they gain from injecting us with strange drugs, Ten?" Doyoung answers for you, and you look at them. "You scared us when you didn't answer your phone." Doyoung is not one to be sentimental, or even worried, but sometimes he does, and you enjoy seeing the human behind the shell he has created for himself over the years.

"The poison he injected into me made my body tired to the point where even the shadows did not wake me up." you say, and both boys look stunned to hear something like that. "Maybe we should ask him to give you some extra so you can get through the nights." you laugh softly, not a bad idea, but you do not know how many doses you can take before your body completely shuts itself down or stop responding to the antidote which will certainly be harder to find without having to break into the hospital.

"He'll be dead by the end of the day anyway, so that doesn't matter." you turn your head to see Taeyong, his arms crossed against his chest, and his head resting against the doorframe that leads to the bookstore. "We can't kill him. Not now." you say, and Taeyong walks over shaking his head. "He hurt you, Y/n, that was not the plan, why should we let him live?" you take Taeyong's hand when he sits next to you, and his hand is ice cold, as usual.

"Because we still need him. We have a plan, and he is the only way to do what I didn't do the other day." Ten is about to speak, but Taeyong stops him by raising his hand. "What if he attacks you again? What if this time he decides to kill you?" he asks, and you turn completely to him. "Well he'll kill me. We knew from the start that we could not trust him despite the money we gave him, it's a risk I'm willing to take. If we don't do it, only god knows how long will pass before we have another opportunity like this."

Taeyong sighs.

He was born to be a leader, he knows it, and everyone else knows it. But he does not know how to keep his mask of leader on when, you, one of his dearest friends is ready to risk your own life for a mission which should be very simple if only the villain he hired could just stick to the fucking plan and obey him. The simple idea of losing you is something he cannot imagine, it is too much. He is the leader, sure, but you are the glue that keeps the team together. If you die, the team will no longer exist, and once again, he will find himself alone. Because he knows Renjun will resent him and go with Ten.

Or Renjun will find himself alone once more, because, because of him, Ten and Doyoung can hardly be outside without being recognized by passers-by. He is pulled out of his thought when a warm hand lands softly on his cheek, and he flutters his eyelids as he looks at you. "You were getting lost in your thoughts, Taeyong."

Like a cat, he leans against your hand to enjoy the warmth that he misses so dearly. "I know what I'm doing, Taeyong. I'll do everything in my power to finish this mission safe and sound, I promise you." he shakes his head. "You can't make that kind of promise, you know that." yes, you know it, and yet you do not hesitate to do it. It won't be your first rodeo after all, and it sure won't be your most dangerous mission either. It's even one of the simplest if you had to be honest with yourself. "I know, but I'll be back."

"She knows she can't die because I will do all I can to hunt her down even in Hell and bring her back here by the skin of her ass so I can kill her myself." you nod, and you bite your bottom lip so as not to laugh at Ten's choice of words. He always does what he can to make conversations easier, and you appreciat that. Not all the time, but right now, you do, because you can feel Taeyong relaxing.

"Call him Taeyong. Call the Beast."

The same evening, you are back in your apartment.

You are reading a message Renjun sent you, something about a book he is writing when he is not in class, when noises start coming from the common hallways. You frown, but you do not move. Even though you know what is going to happen, your heart starts to race. Because unfortunately, when you see how the first part of the mission ended, you wonder if this one is going to turn out as bad. But knowing Taeyong, he probably briefed the villain on what he could do, and could not do.

To The cheap villains alliance: It's starting. From The cheap villains alliance/Taeyong: Please, be careful, and keep us informed as soon as possible.

Before the door swings open, you dial the number Pyro gave you, and when you hear the thud of the door crashing to the floor, probably in several pieces, you call the hero. It is not very late, and yet, he does not answer. It was not in the plan, again. "Where are you, shadow handler?" the hoarse voice of the Beast echoes in the apartment, and also in your head, so that you have to held your head in between your hands. "Do not do that." you whisper.

"Do you really think your boss's threats are going to stop me from doing what I want?" Oh shit. You get up from the couch, and hide behind it, as if it would stop a villain like the Beast from reaching you. "If you are here, I guess the antidote worked. Too bad my poison can only be cured once. The body still remembers it, and this time, it will be fatal for you." you dial Pyro's number once more, but this time, you hands are shaking so much that you wonder if you'll make it.

"Answer, you stupid hero." you mumble, and that's when you hear a sleepy voice from the other side. "Kun! Pyro! Oh my god, he is here, he is in my apartment!" you hear a noise, and you do not know if it's coming from your apartment, or the side of the hero who gets out of bed suddenly. "Help me, please, please." the sobs are fake, but you know that if you set your gaze on the Beast, you will cry for real this time, and that's the last thing you want. A villain does not deserve to see you cry. A hero either for that matter.

"I'm coming! Hide somewhere." you nod even though he can't see it. "Hurry up, please, I'm scared." you whisper, and the man makes an affirming noise before hanging up. It takes a lot to scare you. Heroes don't scare you, and neither do villains. But there are always some exceptions, and god, you would have liked to never meet this exception. If you make it out alive, you'll make Taeyong understand that next time, he'll have to hire a normal villain, not someone like that damn Beast.

"It surprised me when your boss contacted me to help you on a mission." the Beast says, and you hear the heavy sounds of his footsteps on the creaking floor. "I didn't think he was stupid enough to contact someone wanting you dead." okay, your death is wished for by many villains, heroes, and humain beings like others, but the Beast? What did you do to make him so angry that he risked betraying someone like Taeyong just to get revenge? Petty much?

"I don't care if I die, if that means I would have had the chance to kill you first." after that, he is silent. He has stopped moving, and his voice is still ringing in your head, so you have no idea where he is. He may very well be in front of the sofa, as he may be in your bedroom. You lower the brightness of your phone to send a message to the group chat.

To The cheap villains alliance: Taeyong, if I get out alive, you are a dead man.

Yes, you have to let him know that from the moment you leave this apartment, preferably alive, he will have to watch his back.

"I expected better from you, shadow handler." you lift your head and your breathing hitches when you see the Beast watching you over the back of the sofa. Oh god gamn it. You get up, and you walk around the sofa. "What did I do to you?" you ask when you finally find your voice, and the Beast laughs so hard that you clench your teeth so as not to scream to cover the atrocious noise. "Don't you remember? Don't make fun of me, I know you always remember everything."

He approaches you dangerously, and as he takes a step forward, you take a step back, at least until your back makes contact with the living room wall. You are stuck. But it is not over, not yet. The Beast made a mistake. He didn't turn off the lights when he entered. If he knew you as well as he says he does, he should have known that with the lights on, you can do whatever you want. You close your eyes, and you concentrates. At least you try, it is hard to think with the breath of the Beast so close.

He is so close that you can feel the warmth and the putrid smell of his breath against your face. "Come on, try harder, I'm sure you can remember." he whispers, and he raises his hand, and before he can make any movement, his arm is blocked. He looks shocked at first, and when he turns his head he laughs when he sees a hand around his biceps. "Do you really think your little shadows are going to keep me from turning you into dust?" he asks. "No, they are not strong enough, but yours on the other hand.."

He frowns when he is thrown back by his own shadow. Even though it's just a shadow, it has the same strenght as the Beast, so it's easy for the shadow to get rid of him. The Beast crashes on the dining table, and one foot goes loose under his weight, and he collapses to the groung. "You will pay for that." yeah, you don't doubt it. You haven't used your power for a while now, so that simple use of the Beast's shadows is enough to tire you out. You won't be able to do it any more.

When the Beast gets up, other footsteps are heard in the apartment, and damn it, you are relieved. It could very well be help for the villain, but for once, you want to be positive, and think that this is Pyro, and his little hero friends. You slip down the wall, and you do not even have to pretend to cry, since your cheeks are already wet and shining with tears. You hadn't even realized it. Is it because of fear? Fatigue? You wish you knew.

You close your eyes, and you take a long breath that is cut short when two hands rest on your shoulders. "We are here, hey, we are here. Take a deep breath." it is not the voice of Pyro, but that of one of the two heroes who have come to check on you. Yuta, if you remember his name. Death Stare, yeah that's him. You hold your head in your hands when the Beast screams, and you are hardly surprised to see that you are the only one affected by his voice. "We're gonna get you out of here."

Death Stare takes your hand, and he helps you stand up. "I'll join you in a minute." he says before taking you out of the apartment. "The Beast..The Beast.." you continue to whisper, and Yuta squeezes your hand in his. "Everything will be fine, don't worry, you are safe now." you almost trip down the stairs a few times, but Yuta is always here to put you right back on your feet. When you are outside, you are shaken by the cold wind which whips your face, and your bare arms. You didn't have time to take a jacket. You didn't have time to take anything either. At least, you have your phone in your pocket.

Your gaze is caught by the lights of the ambulance and police cars that are parked outside the apartment complex, and you bite your lip. That's a lot of people, luckily your face is not known by the police, unlike Ten and Doyoung who think a mask is unnecessary when using their powers in public. "I have to let her here, I'm trusting you with her, I have to go back." Death Stare says to a woman who nods, and put her hand on your arm to get your attention. "Come inside, or you'll get cold."

She helps you get into the ambulance, and immediately makes sure you are okay. She checks your pulse, your heartbeat, your blood pressure, and finally the stiches. Fortunately, they are still intact. "How do you feel?" she asks nicely, and you shrug. "Shaken." that's all you can answer, and the woman understands perfectly, she does not pressure you into talking more.

The next minutes are quite strange.

It is sometimes silent in the street, or it is sometimes noisy because of the screams. But silence always returns. At least until you hear the sound of broken glass, and the sound of gunshots being fired. You straighten, and you grip your thighs with your fingers, so hard that you hurt yourself, but at least it helps you keep your head cool. After a while, the ambulance door opens, and when you turn your head, you see Pyro. He is not in his civilian clothes, but in his hero costume. It's black, and understated, unlike the heroes who like to add flashy colors to their costumes.

"It's over." he says angrily, and you sit up, your head tilted. "The Beast ran away." oh.

Heroes don't kill villains. They are here to stop them, and to bring the victims to safety, and sometimes it does not go as planned, and the villains escape. It is very rare, especially against heroes like Pyro, Death Stare and Mayhem (John). You start to shake and once again, this reaction is natural, and not forced. If the Beast was close to killing you today, you know he will come back, time and time again, no matter what Taeyong tells him, to finish whatever he started.

"What am I going to do?" you ask in a weak voice, and the hero gets into the truck, closing the door once the paramedic is out. "I have nowhere to go, especially now that he knows where I live." Kun takes off his mask, and he runs his fingers through his hair where they stick to his forehead from sweat. "I will protect you personally. You have nothing to fear anymore, I promise you."

Kun didn't lie.

After the Beast's attack, he decided that it would be safer for you to move in with him, in his apartment. Heroes don't do that. Normally in this kind of situation they let the police deal with the victims who are still in danger, but for some reason, Kun decided it would be different this time, that he would protect you himself.

You looked surprised, but deep down, you were very happy about it. Despite the Beast not obeying Taeyong's basic plan and orders, you came much further than you had thought you would. Because yes, getting closer to Kun is what you were looking for, not for a second you would have thought to be in his apartment. By offering you that, he had just made it easier for you without even knowing it. Heroes are not so bad after all.

Kun's apartment is not as you would have imagined. You know that pro-heroes make a lot of money, even more so when they have an agency and great heroes working for them, so you expected a large apartment, with floor to ceiling windows giving a splendid view of the city, with expensive furniture and artwork on the walls, but not at all. Kun's apartment is large enough for two people, and the decor is simple, just like him.

It's easy to feel good here, to feel at home, even though you are here on a mission, and not to imagine what your life would be like if you had made different decisions. Well, you still need protection from the Beast who will not give up until he sees your dead body at his feet, so being here is always a plus.

Taeyong, Doyoung and Ten do not think the same.

You had to wait until Kun left for work the day after the attack to contact them. Before that, you had to convinced Kun to go, you had to convince him that everything would be okay, and that he would not come into an apartment devastated by the Beast. You made it clear to him that even if the Beast found you thanks to your scent, he would never dare set foot in the apartment of a hero like Pyro. The Beast is brave, yes, but not to stupid as to sign his death warrant. At least, that's what you want to think.

Now you are sitting in Kun's bed, your back against the headboard, one leg pulled up to your chest, and you phone poised precariously on your knee. You dial Taeyong's number, the latter waking up much earlier than the other boys. After two rings, he answers.

"Y/n, how are you?" he asks, he is trying to sound calm, but you can feel the tension in his voice. You do not know if it's because of your radio silence last night, or because of the message you sent him, promising to make him a dead man. "The Beast made it clear to me that he was going to use the contract you gave him to kill me, so I don't know how I'm doing Taeyong." you mumble, and you hear his breathing quicken. "But on a more positive note, I'm at Pyro's. He lets me live in his apartment until they find the Beast."

"Y/n, I'm so sorry." Taeyong whispers, and you imagine him walking down the halls of the apartment above his bookstore, trying not to wake the boys up by talking too loudly. "You have to do something for me now, Taeyong. Find the Beast. Kill him, because if the heroes find him, he will not hesitate to throw everything out about the contract for a remission. And if he does, I'm next on their list."

You hear the sound of the door opening and closing, probably the one in the kitchen where he is going to lock himself up to prepare Renjun's breakfast. The other boys can do it on their own, and also because Taeyong enjoys torturing them a little. "The heroes don't know who you are, even if he gives them your alias, they will not believe him, they won't have any proof to arrest you."

"Taeyong, if he speaks, I won't be the only one in danger. Ten and Doyoung will be even more so. What about Renjun? What will he do when the heroes show up in the middle of the night in the bookstore to take you out? He'll be alone, once again. And god damn it, I don't want this kid to have to suffer one more time because you are not doing your fucking job properly!"

Taeyong remains silent for a long minute, and even though you know you crossed the line, you do not blame yourself. He needs to hear it. "You're still here?" you ask weakly, and hear him clear his throat. "Yeah, I'm just waiting for you to spit out some more of your poison. It's the first time you've really told me what you're thinking, so go ahead, tell me everything, you know I can take it."

You bite your lip. You and Taeyong have known each other since high school, you know that nothing you can say will change your friendship. At least you hope so, because you have a lot to tell him. "Taeyong, you are a good leader, believe me, I've met some terrible ones. But this time, you screwed up completely. The minimum to do when you hire a villain for a mission like this is to check if they have something against one of us, for fuck's sake! I almost fucking died twice because of you, and the fact that you trust the first person who dares to smile at you show that maybe you should step away from being a fucking leader! You're so fucking needy for attention that you are ready to put us all in danger."

"Is that what you really think?" he asks in a small voice, and you sigh. But before you have time to answer, you hear the sound of the key in the lock of the front door. "I have to go." you hang up and shove the phone the the pocket of your hoodie. "Y/n, where are you?" Kun asks, and you turn your head towards the door. "Your room." the young hero pushes the door open, and he smiles when he looks at you. "Is everything okay? Is the guest room not good enough for you?"

You shrug, ignoring the question. "What are you doing here? I thought being a hero meant being overworked, especially right now." you tilt your head, and Kun smiles, giving you time to look at his dimples. Cute. "Touché. The other heroes take care of everything, so I asked for some free time to be with you. I can't protect you if I'm on the other side of town." he is not wrong, you think, pushing yourself to make room for him on the bed.

Kun settles down, hugging a pillow tight against his chest, resting his head on the headboard. "And how do you plan to protect me?" you ask, and he shrugs. "By preventing you from leaving the apartment, by not letting you go anywhere on your own." you frown, giggling. "Try to follow me in the bathroom, and I'll show you that it is not just heroes who can fight." it's enough to make Kun laugh, and it's a sound you might have enjoyed under other circumstances. "I can not wait to see that."

"You don't think I'm capable of fighting you, mister pro-hero?" you ask, turning to him and he closes his eyes, laughing softly. "I have powers too, you know, and I'm sure I can kick your little flames' ass." Kun suddenly seems very interested as he straightens up, resting the pillow back on the bed. "Do you really mean that? Do you want to show me?" you do not think your body will be able to withstand a fight with someone like Pyro, but you know you could kick his ass under normal circumstances.

"I would love to, really, but we are not intimate enough for me to show you my powers." Kun throws his head back, laughing heartily. "You really are something." you shrug, what can you say, you are amazing. "Did you go to the hero academy?" he asks, and you nod, biting the inside of your cheek. "I went there, and I missed the provisional license, twice, so I decided to give up." Kun pouts, and luckily, you are strong, otherwise you would have leaned down to bite on his lower lip. "It's a shame, who knows, we could have been partner."

"I would have hired you in my agency, because we know very well that my agency would have been way more successful than yours." you smirk, and you know you are looking for troubles, but you need to know where Kun's limits lie. "Do you think you would have found better heroes than mine? Better than Death Stare, Mayhem and Strike?" you run the tip of your tongue over your lower lip, sighing, ignoring the way Kun's gaze follow your tongue. "Mayhem spends too much time flirting with victims, so of course we can always do better." it's a slippery slope you are going down, because you know that Pyro and Mayhem have always been best friends.

"I take it that he flirted with you." he says, and you shrug, you are not going to tell him. "It doesn't surprise me, but you know, that's part of his charm, the citizens adore him anyway!" well, you can't deny that Mayhem is hot. He is tall, muscular, and his long hair suits him perfectly. "Maybe I should have flirted back, I would have someone else to help me kick your ass." Kun rolls his eyes, getting up from the bed. "Two against one? That's not really fair, but even like that, I know I would win."

You have to show him what you are capable of, within the limits that your body imposes on you. You close your eyes, and it only takes half a second for one of the shadows who love to torture you during the night to appear in front of you, watching you curiously. With a nod, you indicate the curtains, and the shadow hastens to open, bathing the room in a yellow light. Immediately, Kun's shadows looms behind him as he prepares to leave the room.

"What the hell?" he frowns when he feels a pressure on his arm, preventing him from going any further, pulling him in once more, and slamming the door in front of his face. "A problem?" you ask, tilting your head. Kun is surprised to see you on the bed, as someone seems to be holding him back, but when he turns his eyes, the shadow is back on the floor, as still as Kun. "What just happened?"

You get up from the bed, shrugging your shoulders. "You are getting old Pyro boy." you say as you open the door and leave the room without the slightest problem. "Did you do that?" he asks, following you. "Me who did what?" you open the fridge to take out the bottle of water which you open to take a sip. "You used your powers to keep me from going out!" you laugh, practically choking on the water in your mouth; "I told you Kun, we are not intimate enough. You probably just imagined it all."

Kun shakes his head, he knows what he felt, and it was a hand on his arm. A cold hand, almost ghostly. He knows you did it, but as of right now, he can't prove it. But he will. He'll for you to show him your powers.

For the week after moving in with the hero, you need to put yourself back in your place when you start to feel more at home than with a man you are supposed to betray. But it's difficult, because Kun is such a lovely host, who puts your needs and protection first, even arguing with his friends because he does not want to leave you alone. But at the end of the day, you know you can't afford to fall for him.

In another life, maybe.

This morning, you are awaken when the curtains in your bedroom are drawn open, letting in the sun which warms the bare skin of your legs. You turn onto your stomach, covering yourself with the blanket, muttering something Kun does not quite understand. "Get up, sleeping beauty, we have to go out!" at that, you stuck your head out of the blanket, frowing, your eyes still closed. "Go out?" Kun nods, but you don't see him do it. "I have to go to the agency, so you are coming with me."

You get out of bed quickly, and Kun laughs as you walk into the bathroom to get dressed. Unable to return to your apartment to retrieve clothes, you used the hero's credit card to buy everything you need until you are finally allowed to go home. And when you come out, Kun is already ready to go, his hand resting on the doorknob. "Ready?" he asks, and you nod.

The agency is not far from the hero's apartment, but he takes his car not to take the slightest risk. The Beast could be anywhere, stalking your scent or even your cell phone if he is smart enough, because you do not know if Taeyong did what you ask him or not. When he parks his car in the parking lot, he turns to you. "You better behave, with the heroes, okay?" he says, and you take a falsely offended expression. "Are you really doubting me, hero?" you ask, and he sighs. "You said you would kick my ass last time, god only knows what you can tell them."

He is not wrong, so you shrug. "I say this because I know it's true, and I could kick all their asses, trust me." he chuckles, and gets out of the car. You follow him closely, your hands buried in the pockets of your coat. When he pushes the door of the agency, you are surprised to hear nothing but silence. You expected to see heroes running to and fro, responding to call from panicked citizens, not to see them behind desks, speaking in low voices not to bother anyone around.

"Kun!" a voice breaks the silence, and the hero rolls his eyes as he watches the hero with the long hair approach you. "Oh, who do we have here, Y/n. You know I'm still waiting for you to buy me a drink." he says, turning to you and you tilt your head. "To thank you for letting the Beast come into my home in the middle of the night?" Johnny's cheeks take on a pinkish tinge under the attack, and out of the corner of your eye, you see Kun turn his back to you so you won't see him laughing. "You are not wrong." Death Stare says, leaning against a door that probably lead to other offices.

You wink at Johnny when Kun asks you to follow him into his office. When you enter the room, the bright colors attack your retina right away. "Oh my god, you are a fanboy!" you exclaim and Kun clears his throat. From all part of his office, you can see figurines, posters, and merchandise belonging to the current number one hero in the country. "I never thought your office would look like an 8-year-old's bedroom, that's really cute."

Kun whines as he drops into his office chair, and he busy himself working on his computer so as not to have to answer you. You laugh, and turn to a section of the wall where various newspaper articles are hung. "Are these the arrests you made?" you ask, and the man looks in your direction. "Yeah!" he bulges his chest, probably extremely proud of his achievements. It is not for nothing if he is so popular amongs locals.

You recognize several villains, for having spoken to them at least once, or for having witnessed the arrest live on television. But your gaze stops on one particular photo, and you frown. A boy, quite young, with red hair, and a smile on his face despite the handcuffs and the hero preventing him from making a move. Your eyes fill with tears, but you shake your head, you can't cry. Not here. Not in front of the hero. He would start to suspect something when you are so so close to succeeding your mission.

You do not hear Kun approaching you, and you jump when he opens his mouth. He must have noticed the article you dwelled on. "Red Arrow." he begins, and you bite the inside of your cheek. "I admit that catching him was all down to luck. From the moment he started causing chaos in town, I thought I would never get a hold of him." he explains. Yes, you know what happened. You know that Lucas has escaped the grasp of the heroes and the police on countless occasions. Thanks to you, Doyoung, Ten and Taeyong.

"Why?" you ask in a trembling voice, and Kun watches you, arching his eyebrows. "He was so young when he was arrested, not even 18. Why did you arrest him?" Kun sighs, and he pulls away from the wall to sit on the edge of his desk. "You can't let a villain go free because he is young, Y/n, that would be reckless. Powers get stronger and stronger with age, we could not risk seeing him grow bigger, stronger and more aggressive."

You scoff, shaking your head. Lucas was not aggressive, he would never hurt a fly, he just had trouble controlling his powers like a lot of people in the world. He didn't pass the hero academy entrance exams, and no one taught him how to wield his powers. Taeyong tried, but he too had to manage his own life behind. In a way, it's your fault if he is in jail now, you are the ones who didn't take the time to train him properly when he joined the family.

But it is also the fault of the heroes who refused to understand that it was not his fault. Sure, hanging out with villains does not promise a bright future, but he was not looking to hurt either, it was not in his plans to kill two people with his arrow that day. He couldn't control it. It's that simple, he never really caused any chaos in town, but it is nearly impossible to make heroes understand a thing. "Are you okay?" Kun asks, and you must be looking extremely suspicious, but you take a deep breath, turning on your heels to face the hero, nodding your head, smiling despite your anger. "I'm doing perfectly fine."

"Y/n!"

Renjun's reaction is not what you expected. The boy has a bloody temper, he gets angry very quickly, especially when he doesn't understand something, and when he feels abandoned. So you thought he would get angry when he saw you walk through the door to the bookstore, but instead, he leaps into your arms, wrapping his arms around your neck. "I missed you." he whispers, and you rub his back. "I missed you too, kid."

After a little minute, he takes a step back, and he pouts looking at you. "I promise you everything will be back to normal very soon." he does not seem to believe you, but that's okay. You put your hand on his cheek, and he leans into the warmth of your hand. "You'll see, before you know it, I'll be back." he nods, and you place a kiss on his forehead before walking through the back door. The boys are not here, and you are not surprised, it's way too early.

So instead, you push a hidden door at the back of the room and you go up the stairs to the apartment they share. The place is quiet, except for the sounds of hushed conversation coming from the kitchen. The door is open, and when Ten's gaze lands on you, the conversation ends. "What are you doing here? Did something happen?" he asks, getting up from his chair, and you shake your head.

"Everything is fine, don't worry." you say as you open the fridge. You take out several ingrediens under Taeyong's suspicious gaze. "May I know why you are raiding our fridge?" you stuff everything in your backpack, and you turn to the boy. "Kun was asleep when I left. If he is up when I get back, I'll tell him I was at the supermarket to make him a well-deserved breakfast." they nod their heads, they don't question you anymore, they trust you. "I needed to see you."

"Oh, do you miss us?" Ten coos, and you almost regret coming. "Maybe a little, but I will not give you the pleasure to say anything more." you mumble, and Taeyong pulls up the chair next to him so you can sit down. "Everything is going fine, don't worry. The Beast doesn't seem to have tracked me down yet, and the heroes haven't seen him in town since the last attack." you explain, and Taeyong releases a breath he didn't know he was holding. "I'm close to my goal, so give me a few more days."

The boys worry about you, they let you know several times a day, and you understand. You are the target of the Beast, that Taeyong couldn't find, and on top of that, you spend your time surrounded by heroes. Heroes who could find out who you really are, and lock you up like they did with Lucas. "We are going to get him back, don't worry." you can promise Renjun to come home quickly, but you cannot promise the boys to bring Lucas back. It's a delicate situation, and even if you manage to get close to the goal, you do not know if you will be able to go that far.

Basically, the mission was to get revenge for Lucas' arrest, but over time, and in the sights of how your relationship with Kun progressed, you figured that maybe there was a way to get the young boy back. You do not know if it's actually possible, but you need that little bit of hope to hold on. You turn to Taeyong who is nervously playing with the hem of his hoodie, and you put your hand on his. "I'm sorry Taeyong, for what I told you last time on the phone." the man shakes his head, smiling tenderly. "Don't worry, it's already forgotten."

You do not know what you would do without him, or without Doyoung and Ten. "I have to go, I don't want him to send his squad to find me." you get up from your chair, and you sigh. It's harder than you thought it would be. Leaving what you call your second home, even if you live on your own on a daily basis. "Be careful, alright?" Doyoung says, and you nod. "Of course. Always."

When you walk through the apartment door, and walk to the bedroom, you find Kun still asleep. He looks peaceful, with his hair messy on the pillow, and his blanket covering part of his face. In another life, you think, heading for the kitchen. From your bag, you take out the ingredients you stole from Taeyong's fridge, and you busy yourself with preparing breakfast. You never had the chance to do so, because Kun always wake up before you, and he made it his personal mission to make you as comfortable as possible.

You are not as good as him in the kitchen, and it ends with an unmistakable uproar when the pan in which you were cooking the eggs fall to the ground. You do not know how it happened, but it did. What you don't know either is how Kun manages not to wake up in a hurry, ready to yell at you for being so reckless with his dear cooking equipment. But no, you can still hear his long breaths as you approach the bedroom.

"Weirdo." you whisper as you return to the kitchen to finish breakfast. Okay, the eggs don't look very good, and you are not even sure it's perfectly cooked, but it'll do. You pour coffee into a cup, and orange juice in a glass that you nearly drop. This is the last time you will enter a kitchen, you think, carrying the tray to the bedroom. You put it on the bedside table, and sit on the edge of the bed.

You do not need to open your mouth, because the smell of food is enough to make Kun stires awake. He pushes the blanket away, a smile on his face, his eyes still closed. "Good morning." he whispers in a sleepy voice, and you can't help but smile too. When he finally opens his eyes, and his gaze lands on the tray, he sits up against the headboard. "What is that?" he asks. "It's for you. It's not perfect, and I really don't recommend eating the eggs, but it's a way of thanking you."

"You don't need to thank me, I told you that already." he takes the cup of coffee, and he blows on it gently. "I do it because it's my job, and because I want to." he explains, and of course, you understand, but still. "Yes, but I'm making you miss your job, that's not good." he takes a sip of coffee which is, just as he likes it, and that makes his heart beat a little faster. Maybe. "I'll go back to work when I know you are safe."

Will you ever be completely safe? You are not sure, but it's something Kun doesn't need to know. You take the glass of juice, and take a sip under Kun's amused gaze. "What?" you ask with a frown, and he shakes his head. "Nothing." he doesn't stop smiling with amusement, and it starts to annoy you. "What?" you whine, and he throws his head back to laugh. God, you hate how much you love that laugh.

You put your glass on the tray, and you take the cup from Kun's hand to put it down too. Kun is startled, but when you get back on the bed to sit on his lap, he doesn't say anything more. He puts his hands on your hips to keep your from tipping back, and he tilts his head. "Hi." you roll your eyes. "Hi yourself." you put your hands on his shoulders. "Are you going to tell me why you are looking at me like that?" he shakes his head, and you pout. Kun is a simple man, and when you pout, he gives you what you want. Usually.

You see Kun's gaze slide over your lips and giggle softly. "Because you are beautiful?" you wrap you arms around the back of his neck to play with his hair, and that's enough to make Kun's head straighten up. "You're not too bad either." his fingers slide down your sides, and he tilts his head. "Can I kiss you?" he asks in a low voice, and you nod. Is it for the mission, or because you are actually craving it? Who knows, not you anyway.

Kun leans in and rests his lips on yours for a simple kiss, but in to time, the kiss becomes much more fiery. You nibble Kun's lip and he opens his mouth slightly, and you take advantage of it, finding his tongue, tasting the coffee he was drinking. The hero's fingers tighten around your waist, and instictively, you roll your hips, causing the young man to growl. "Do you know how bad I wanted to do this." he whispers against your lips, you did not know, but you are happy to know that you can have that kind of effect on the hero.

"I don't know, tell me." you whisper, and is surprised when Kun rocks you onto the bed to straddle your hips. He bends down, and runs the tip of his tongue over your lips, and the contact is gone as quickly as it happened, which makes you sigh, much to Kun's delight. "You wanted too, I know that." he seems so sure of himself that you roll your eyes. "What makes you say that?"

His lips slide slowly down your cheek, your jaw, ending in your neck which he kisses warmly. "I see you, you know. I see you looking at my lips when I speak. I see the way you look at me when I get out of the shower." You could laugh, really, because even though you are here for the purpose of betraying Kun, you are human, and the hero's body was sculpted by the Gods, there is nothing you can do about it if your eyes slide over his chest from time to time.

"Because you don't?" you ask, but your sentence is cut short when Kun bites the skin of your neck. He licks the wound, and he sits up, caging your face in between his hands. "Of course I do. It's hard not to." so much for being professional, you think, rolling your eyes. You push him to the other side of the bed, and it's your turn to be on top, your legs on either side of Kun's thighs, Kun who looks at you with a smirk.

"What do you think you are doing?" he asks, and you shrug, rolling your hips very lightly against Kun's crotch. "I was thinking of watching a movie." Kun sits up, his torso against your chest, and he smiles. "I do not think so, no." he puts his lips on your throat which he kisses several time, biting the skin a little harder each time, enough to make you buck your hips. "Eager, aren't we?"

He takes one of your ankles in his hand to maneuver your leg so that it is on the other side of the leg you are already standing above. He makes you sit, and when you roll your hips again, he clenches the muscles of his thighs, and it is enough to make you moan softly. "Are you so need that you are going to use my thigh to get off?" he scoffs, and you put a hand against his mouth. "Shut up Kun."

The friction of your clothed clit against Kun's thigh is something you cannot describe. It is rough, but good at the same time. "If you want to get off like this, you should at least do it properly." his voice against your ear makes you whine, tears already forming in the corner of your eyes with the pleasure flooding you so suddenly. He moves his hands on your waist to move you quicker on his thigh, the tense of the muscle against your heating core is absolutely delicious.

You try to bite your lips to quiet your moans, but it is useless, especially when Kun bites your lower lip, forcing your mouth open. He kisses you, swallowing all of your moans. He feels uncomfortably tight in the confines of his boxers, but he does not say anything. "You are doing so well baby." his mouth his hot, and you close your eyes shut. Seeing Kun's face, and his smirk would only bring you quicker to the edge.

He feels the way your thighs are shaking, and he scoffs. "Already ready to cum? Good girl." you are making a mess of his leg with your juices, and if normally you would be embarrassed, you can't find it in yourself to be right now. "Come on, cum for me, show me how good you can be." his voice is low, and honey-like. And like that, you feel your climax hitting you. And it hits harder than ever. You see stars behind your eyes, and you are pretty sure you black out for a minute or so.

"That's it." Kun whispers, and when you body falls limp against him, he rubs your back, kissing the top of your head. "You did so well." you feel the beads of sweat rolling down your spine, and you grimaces slightly. Without a word, and still out of breath, you take your shirt off under Kun's hungry gaze. It's when you move to sit back on his lap that you see and feel the tent in his pants. Poor baby must be so hard right now.

"I can take care of it." he whispers, his lips finding their way to your naked shoulder to kiss and bite as he wishes. "Let me." you say, and he helps you take off his boxers by lifting his hips from the bed, and when you are finally back in the same position, you take his hard and leaking member in your hand. You use the pre-cum to make the slide easier, and immediately, the boys huffs, eyes closing. He's been waiting for his release that he doesn't know how long he'll last.

You kiss him, all teeth and tongue, it is sloppy, disgusting, with drool running down your chins. Kun bucks his hips, fucking into your hand and you move quicker, twisting your wrist in a way that makes him moan. It's obsene the sound that come out of his mouth, but you love to hear him, so much. The hero is usually so composed, that seeing him coming undone because of your hand is a good ego boost.

"Fuck, I'm going to-to cum." he groans, and you smile softly, biting on the lobe of his ear. "Are you?" he nods with vigor, and you drop your head, opening your mouth big enough for a bead of spit to drop on the top of his dick, to make it extra wet, and with how he reacts, that's how he likes it. You run your finger in the slit, and with your free hand, you fondle his balls, and when you feel him tense up, you watch as rops of sticky cum dirty your hand. "Good boy." you say like he did earlier, and he smiles, completely blissed out.

"Gross." you say looking at your hand, and you rub it clean on Kun's abs. The hero winces at the feeling of the cum when it starts to dry on his skin. "You are gross." yeah, you are. You yelp when he takes ahold of your thighs to get out of bed, not letting go of you. "What are you doing?" you ask with a laugh. "We need a shower."

And if he showed you how wet he likes things in the shower, then so be it.

When you open your eyes, the first thing you notice is the warm body against yours. Kun's arm is firmly around your waist, and you feel his breath against your neck. It must have been barely two hours since you fell asleep, which means the sun is still shining outside, and you still have time to enjoy the day. Well, if you can. Because when you try to stand up, Kun's arm pulls you closer to him, and you sigh weakly.

If the boys knew what you just did, they would be pissed off. It was definitely not in the plan, but it takes what it takes to make Kun more open to you, more vulnerable. Enough to break him more easily, you think, looking at the ceiling. You remain motionless for a few more minutes, letting yourself be lulled by the hero's regular breathing, and after a while, he finally releases his grip on your waist to turn his back to you, you take the opportunity to get out of bed.

Your clothes have been thrown haphazardly around the room, and it takes a moment for you to find everything. But instead of putting them on, you throw everything in the laundry basket in the corner of the room, and you take a clean t-shirt and pants from the section of the wardrobe reserved for you in the guest room. When you return to the hero's room, you observe Kun. He is always so peaceful when he sleeps, and you have to refrain yourself from running your fingers through his soft hair.

In another life, you think.

There is a reason you didn't let Kun convince you to show him your powers. You needed to save it, to regain strenght so that you could use it as much as you needed. You walk over to the window and push the curtains so that the bedroom is completely bathed in sunlight. Even though the shadows are stronger at night, they are easier to manipulate and recall when there is natural light.

You call a single shadow. The one who is the most obedient, the one you spent all your childhood manipulating, the only one who does not torture you at the first given opportunity. "Prevent him from moving if he wakes up." you articulate without any sound coming out of your mouth, and the shadow nods. You walk out of the room, and with a silent step, you stop in front of Kun's office door. It is not difficult to enter, since he has nothing to hide, so the door is not locked. You only need one thing, the key to the agency.

And when you find it, you refrain from making a sound of victory, you do not have time for that. You pick up your phone, and open the conversation with the boys. You could call them, to make it easier, but you do not want to risk waking Kun up, or getting his attention.

To The cheap villains alliance: Are you there? From The cheap villains alliance / Ten / Doyoung / Taeyong: Yes! To The cheap villains alliance: Perfect. I have the key to Pyro's agency. The details of Lucas's arrest are out there, but to get there on my own, I need your help. I need chaos. I need all of the agency's heroes, Kun included, to be on the streets. From The cheap villains alliance / Taeyong: You can count on us. When do you want to do it? To The cheap villains alliance: Tonight. Wait until night has fallen. From The cheap villains alliance / Ten: The festivities will begin at 9 p.m.

You smile, you knew you could count on them. And they are the best at creating chaos without actually causing injuries. You do not want that, you do not want innocent blood on your hands. You just want the heroes out of your reach. You quickly leave the office, stuffind the key in your pants pocket. For Kun not to notice, you'll need to keep him occupied until it is time for him to go, and leave you alone.

So you go back to the room where Kun is only waking up. The shadow sees you, and it disappears with the blink of an eye. And you sit on the edge of the bed, you hand resting on Kun's cheek. "Hello sleeping beauty." he smiles, his dimples deep and tempting. You take advantage of the sight given to you by a very sleepy Kun, because it is certainly the last time you will see him like that.

From The cheap villains alliance / Ten: Let the show begin.

From where you are standing in the living room, you smile when you see the message. You do not know what they are going to do, or whatever they are going to do it themselves or ask some trusted villains. But you think it will be the latter, the safest option. It would be silly to get caught by the police when they are so close to getting Lucas back.

To The cheap villains alliance: Be careful, kids.

You put your phone in your pocket, and you settle down next to Kun. The hero has spent the last twenty minutes searching for a movie on Netflix. He puts his arm around your shoulders, and you move closer to him, close enough that your thighs are touching. The movie begins, and when his phone rings on the coffee table, you try not to show your excitement.

"Sorry." he mumbles when he sees Johnny's picture showing up. He picks up the phone, and he leaves the living room to answer. You do not move, even though you are dying to know what they are saying to each other, but when he comes back to the living room, he is much more agitated. "I have to go." he says, and you stand up, frowning. "Is something wrong?" he shakes his head as he walks to his office. You follow him closely, and you watch him put on his costume.

"Villains have decided to fight in town. They need every hero they can get." oh, so that's it. You know that this is Ten's idea. The latter loves to create conflict between villains just to see them fiight, to see the strenght they really have. Little shit. "Be careful, Kun, please." you say in a low voice, and he turns to you. He cups your face and kisses you. "I promise you." he turns around you, and without another word, he leaves the apartment.

You have no time to waste, because you do not know how long it will take Kun before coming back. You dial Taeyong's number, and the man answer almost immediately. "So? Is he gone?" he asks, and you nod as you pull on your coat. "Yeah, just now. A brawl of villains, really?" the man laughs as you leave the apartment. "You have to ask Ten, I have nothing to do with it."

Yeah, that what you thought. You go down the stairs at full speed, while being careful that the neighbords do not see you go. "They haven't gone there, hopefully?" you ask, and the noise he makes does not bode well. "Ten wanted to go up there to watch, and Doyoung followed him to stop him from doing anything stupid." fuck.

"Yeah, that's Ten. If either of them gets hurt, or arrested, I swear to god I'll find them and kill them myself. I think being suffocated by your own shadow is a good way to die." you mumble, and Taeyong laughs softly. You know he must be rolling his eyes. "Is Renjun home?" Taeyong does not respond, and you hear the sound of doors opening on the fly, and you stop dead in your tracks.

"Taeyong? Taeyong, is Renjun home?" when you hear nothing but silence, you start to build up in tension. You do not know if it's worry, or anger with Taeyong who does not tell you anything. "Lee-Fucking-Taeyong, if you don't answer me right fucking now, you're going to die too." when he picks up the phone, he is out of breath, he must have run down the stairs to check the bookstore.

"He is not here."

"Taeyong, you only had one thing to do, and that was to make sure Renjun was home!" you say with clenched teeth. You want to yell at him, make him understand that the situation is much more serious now, but you cannot be noticed by passers-by. You probably already look stupid standing in the middle of the sidewalk. "The villains don't know Renjun, they won't know they have to be careful is he ever passes by."

It is not for nothing that they are villains. They don't care about anything. They only live to hurt heroes, and to cause chaos. If they have to hurt a teenager to beat a hero, or a cop, they'll do it without a second thought. Renjun cannot defend himself, at least not against them. "I thought I heard him in his room when Ten and Doyoung left, that's why I didn't check." Taeyong says in a quick voice, and you sigh.

"Call Doyoung, tell him Renjun is not home. Tell him to find him and bring him home. Ten too. That they don't stay outside, it's too dangerous." you are about to hang up when Taeyong speaks. "And you, are you going to continue the mission?" good god, you want to hit him right now, he wastes the little time you have. "Taeyong, Renjun trusts us to protect him, and take care of him, we don't have time to talk, you fucking stupid leader, call them!"

You hang up without thinking about what you just said to Taeyong, or the time you actually lost just to insult him. Renjun is important, and so does the mission. You cannot favor one in spite of the other. You've made up your mind, not only are they going to bring Renjun home, you are also going to get Lucas out. You shove your phone in your coat pocket, and run to Pyro's agency. As you predicted, the agency is empty, and silent. You close the door behind you, and walk to Kun's office.

No one has ever dared to break into an agency, and the heroes all trust each other, so you do not have to worry about cameras, since they don't have any. In the office, you rummage in the drawers, and cupboards to find the keys that will give you access to Lucas.

See, it's not for nothing that this date is so important. If this month is so important. A month ago, you were sitting in the back of the bookstore with the boys, and you were watching the news when Lucas's picture popped up on the screen. A hero, Pyro, spoke up, so proud of himself when he announced that Lucas would be sent to a higher security prison the following month. He also said that in the meantime, the boy would be kept by the heroes in the underground cells at the agency. That day, he spoke without knowing that his words were not going to be forgotten by three people eager to find their friend back.

"Is that what you are looking for?"

The voice is followed by the sound of keys. And when you turn, you tilt your head when you see Kun with the keys leading to the underground cells. You shove your hands in the pockets of your coat, your head bowed. "How did you know?" you ask, and for a second, the hero is taken aback by the lightness with which you speak, as if you had just asked him to talk about the weather. "I always knew."

"What do you mean?" you ask, frowning. The hero sighs, and he doesn't show the slightest sign of a struggle, which means he has not visited the other heroes. "I knew it the moment I saw you, on that street, when you passed out. At first, I thought you had really been attacked by the Beast. And then in the second attack, I heard him speak, I heard him call you the shadow handler, and the contract. That's when I found out." what follow does not bode well.

"All the heroes know you. You, and your little friends. You had caused quite a stir after the arrest of Red Arrow, and that's how I made the connection. Why did the famous shadow handler would come out of her hiding place if not to help her friend escape." you run your tongue over your dry lips and take a step in the direction of Kun who is not moving.

"So, why did you save me? Why did you ask me to live with you?" even in the dark of the office, you can see Kun's cheeks turn red. "Because it was the best way to keep an eye on you, but I guess I was wrong. You are way smarter than you seem." you and your friends are very smart, and you have a lot of resources.

"What are you going to do?" you ask, and the hero lets his shoulders drop. "Are you going to stop me? Are you going to lock me up with Lucas? Oh maybe you will kill me?" he shakes his head, and the sound escaping his lips is almost painful. "See, I knew you were manipulating me the whole time, and yet for a while, when I saw that nothing was happening, I really thought you had changed your mind about Red Arrow."

You roll your eyes as you look around. "Kun, a villain cannot change. Once they start doing evil, nothing can bring them back to the right path. You have said it yourself, and more than once." he approaches you in turn, and he is so close that you can smell his perfume, the smell of embers which clings to his costume. "But maybe you could have? You and your friends are not the worst villains we've had to deal with, quite the contrary. You don't do anything for fun. You don't hurt citizens, and you only tackle the heroes when you really have no other choice."

You know all this. You know the boys and you are not the worst. You do what you can to survive. The proof, what villain would open a bookstore for the love of books, and what villains would "adopt" a child without a family because they can't stand the idea of him being alone as they have been for too long. "Lucas has not done anything wrong. When a hero can't control their powers and hurts a citizen, we don't lock them up for the rest of their life! So why him? He never did anything bad in his life!"

Kun hears the emotion in your voice when you speak, you are really affected by Lucas' situation, and he understands, really. "I had no choice. It's the rules, Y/n." you laugh coldly, closing your eyes to keep the tears from running down your cheeks. "Your rules are stupid." you both remain silent for a little while, but your attention is suddenly drawn to the window when you hear an explosion. "So what are you going to do?" you ask with a sigh. You are tired of this situation.

"If you want to stop me, do it now, because the others are going to be here very soon, and really, you don't want to compete with them." Kun takes the last step between you, and he puts his cold hands on your cheeks. You do not move, because you know he will never hurt you. You've seen it in his eyes so many times over the past few days. He won't do anything to you, except if he has no choice. Being a hero means putting aside your human side to be able to make the best decisions, and the hero will have to fight against the villain.

"If you get Lucas back, whare are you going to do?" he asks, and you are surprised at his question, so you shrug. "We don't want anything other than to give him the house he hasn't had since he got locked up, Kun. We are not going to go out in the streets to make the heroes pay for the time we lost with him. Like you said, we are not like other villains. I just want to be reunited with my family." you whisper.

Your family, yes, that's what they are. A found family is sometimes much better than the biological one. Blood is thicker than water, it is true, but sometimes a found family is so much more. "And me?" he asks, voice barely above a whisper. "Did you never feel anything for me, or were you just looking to see me weak to take advantage of it?" that's the question you unfortunately do not have an answer for. Feelings are not something you like to dwell on. Love attracts nothing good.

"What would that change? You won't let me go anyway." you respond, and Kun leans in to kiss you. And you are weak, so you respond to the kiss. But rather than delve deeper into it as Kun so desires, you close your eyes, focus, and let the shadows do what you can't do on your own. They pull Kun back, preventing him from moving. He is immobilized by invisible forces. You take the keys that have fallen on the floor, and before leaving the office, you give him one last look. "In another life we could have been happy."

The hero doesn't even try to struggle, he lets the shadows hold him in place, and all he can do is watch you go without a word. His heart is breaking, of course, but it's all his fault. He knew what you wanted, and yet, he let you get under his skin, he let you make him weak.

On your way to the underground cells, you pull out your phone, and the relief you feel when you see Taeyong's message telling you that Renjun is home, and that he is fine, the boys are fine is so strong that you could cry. Before losing the already weak signal, you send a message to Taeyong.

To Taeyong: Take the car, and be in front of Pyro's agency in 5 minutes. Don't ask question, and be ready to go.

If he answers, you don't know, since your phone stops working, possibly due to the technology used to keep the villains and their powers at bay. Lucas is not the only one here, all the cells are occupied by villains who seem to be asleep, or drugged, you do not know. "Lucas?" you ask, but get no answer. Good god, who would've thought the underground prison would be that big.

The prison does not only belong to Pyro, but to all the hero agencies in town. They all have access, so while Kun doesn't try to stop you, it's not a given, who knows if a hero is not going to descend on the other side of town at any time. It takes you a couple of minutes to find him. "Lucas." you sigh.

The boy doesn't react immediately, but when you approach, his eyes lift up to you. At first he is not sure what he is seeing, he thinks he is dealing with yet another mirage. "Lucas, we are leaving." he frowns and gets up on shaky legs, and walks over to the bars. "Y/n, what are you doing here?" his voice is so weak, your heart breaks a little. "I'm taking you home." he tries to smile, but you see that he is too tired to do so, but you know he is grateful to see you.

Opening the cell is another story.

You are not familiar with the tech they use, but if the villains are kept in a constant state of fatigue, it doesn't have to be that complicated, right? A computer and several monitors are close to the door that leads to the agency. Cameras that monitor all the cells and buttons. So many buttons. "Fuck." it may take some time.

"The green button." you turn when you hear a voice. That of a villain. "What?" you are not stupid, you are not going to be fooled by a villain. "If you want to open your friend's cell, you have to press the green button closest to his cell's camera." he explains, and you frown. "Why are you helping me?" you ask, and the villain shrugs in defeat. "He is young. He does not deserve what awaits him in prison." you agree completely.

The thing is, villains are vicious, who says that by pushing the button you won't open all the cells and release the villains in town? You want your friend, not to create chaos in the city. But you have no choice, if you call the shadows to bring Kun back here, he will certainly change his mind and prevent you from doing what you want to do. So you find the screen leading to Lucas' cell, and you press the button.

At first, nothing happens, but after a few seconds, a metallic noise is heard and Lucas's cell opens. "Oh fuck, thank you!" you run toward the boy who seems reluctant to come out, as if expecting to be attacked, or laughed at at his idiocy before being locked up again. "Come on, Taeyong is already waiting for us outside." at the mention of the leader, his eyes brighten and you help him walk. Lucas is tall, like really tall, so it's hard to keep him from falling, especially in the stairs, but you get there.

"Wait." you whisper as you lean him against the wall so he can hold himself up while you lock the door to the cells. The freezing cold of the underground has seeped into your skin, and you begin to shake, so much that an easy task becomes difficult. "Come on." you mumble, but Lucas puts his hand on yours. "Let me do it." and he does.

"Let's go home." you put Lucas's arm around your shoulders, and you walk toward the door of the agency, but first, you stop by the office. Kun is still there, held by the shadows. When he hears the footsteps, he looks up at you, and.. and he smiles sadly. "Be happy." that's all he says before you force the shadow to release him. When the shadow disappear, you also disappear.

He will soon hear the sound of an engine, and that of a car racing away. And he will be alone. Alone with his broken heart, a bunch of villains to calm down on the streets, and a lot of explainations to give. Love brings nothing good, you were right about that.

In another life, you both think.

#cznnet #nct imagines #wayv imagines #nct scenarios #wayv scenarios #kun imagines #kun scenarios

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mandoalorian · 3 years

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Seduction with Maxwell Lord (SMUT)

DAY FOUR: Seduction with Maxwell Lord [Requested by @luvzoria]

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added!)

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal

December Writing Challenge: @mandos-blaster @silent-and-resigned @valentinasubmarina

December Writing Challenge Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Warnings: Dom!Max/Sub!Reader, exhibitionism, major degradation, unprotected p in v, very rough, f!ngering.

Word count: 2.5k

Rating: 18

People warned you. They said, if Maxwell Lord IV wanted something, Maxwell Lord got it. It didn't matter what it was. He had the charm, he had the power, the fame, the wealth and the fortune. He had everything. And what he needed tonight at this charity gala, was you and your investment in his company.

You were levelheaded though. You were strong, and as you fastened your diamond earrings, you promised yourself with certainty that you would not let Maxwell Lord use you like he used everyone else in the business sector. You weren't going to be one of his playthings. His toys. If he wanted your investment, he was going to have to earn it.

You had climbed the business ladder from the bottom to the top and you had done it all by yourself. You were well respected in the industry, liked and loved by many, something Maxwell Lord couldn't exactly relate to. He had everything handed to him on a silver plate. His father was a CEO, and his grandfather, and his great grandfather… and no doubt, if the universe was cursed with the prospect of future Maxwell Lord V, he would lead in his father's footsteps. The Lord's had a legacy to uphold.

"I've seen you watching me all night," Maxwell leaned in and whispered in your ear, a shiver racing down your spine as his large hand rested on the small of your back. "Caught you red handed." he muttered, licking his lower lip as he drank in your appearance.

"Is that so?" you responded, trying to shimmy up any remaining confidence you might have.

"Mm," Maxwell folded his arms over his chest. "Let's talk business. I assume you'll be making a donation to Black Gold Cooperative tonight?"

"I considered it but… see, the oil industry isn't something I can really support. You're practically stealing land that doesn't belong to you. It's immoral. Your whole company feeds off lies, and the suffering of others."

"You don't know shit about my company," Maxwell snarled and you raised an eyebrow, liking the reaction you were swindling out of him. "You come to my charity gala and choose not to make a donation? How impolite."

"Impolite is stealing the land belonging to innocents," You bit back.

"I change lives." Maxwell hissed angrily and you rolled your eyes.

"Okay, sure, Mr Lord. You change lives." you imitated him, and you tried to hold back stifled laughter as a scowl crossed his face. Even still, he looked devishly handsome.

"You know I'm not leaving until I get what I want." Maxwell persisted and you sighed, reading the time on your wristwatch.

"Well then, looks like you're going to be here all night," you shrugged casually. "You can't seduce me, Mr Lord."

You were still, subconsciously holding your breath as his hand dipped further down your body, landing on the curve of your ass and giving it a comforting squeeze. "I must admit, you do look exquisite in that dress. Fits you perfectly." You swallowed the lump in your throat and composed yourself. "What is it baby, you shy?" Maxwell pouted, turning to face you. His dark brown eyes held a mischievous glint and they were completely lust-blown… you could already feel the arousal gather between your legs.

"N-no, I'm not shy." you replied, your voice barely above a timid whisper as you fluttered your eyelashes. Maxwell smiled, giving you a small spank causing you to let out a surprised yelp.

"Hm," Maxwell nodded, raising an eyebrow and glancing down the empty corridor behind you. "I'd like to put that to the test."

You hated him. You hated the slimy, smarmy, snakey, sexy businessman. You were strong, you were a ruthless businesswoman yourself but you knew once Maxwell turned on his charm, you were putty in his hands. He had that effect on everyone and he knew it.

"What do you mean, Mr Lord?" you beckoned, your voice laced with honey and innocence. If you were going to play along with his game, you weren't going to make it easy for him. Your tone only spurred Maxwell on as he felt his hardening cock beginning to throb in his tailored dress pants.

You looked around the ballroom— it was bustling. There must have been hundreds of people surrounding you both, and yet, all you could focus on was Maxwell Lord in his dumb expensive suit and his perfect hair.

"Follow me." he demanded, leading you out of the ballroom and along the empty corridor. As you walked further down, the music began to quieten down and the chattering became distanced and muffled. When he had decided you were far enough away, he pushed you into the wall. "Turn around, hands pressed against the wall and bend over. Show me your pretty ass." Maxwell growled. You nodded obediently, following his instruction. You heard Maxwell's footsteps as he paced around, examining your body and the way you were spread out for him. "Such a good girl." he praised, peeling your dress up your ass revealing your lace panties. "Open your legs for me," he said, leaning into you. "Now." he reprimanded sternly after your brief moment of hesitation.

You obliged, slowly opening your shaky legs. You bunched your hand into a fist as he glided his index finger over your dripping cunt, feeling your dampness through the thin material that was between your skin and his. "Mm, Max," you mewled, closing your eyes as he rubbed over your clit. "Someone could see."

"That would be embarrassing for you, wouldn't it?" he chuckled and you felt your cheeks heat up. "Or would you like it? Would you like someone to walk in on you like this, spread against the wall with your ass in the air? Oh baby, you're already so wet."

Wasting no time, he pulled down your panties and smacked your bare ass— the noise echoing through the empty hallway. You whimpered as the coolness of his rings hit your warm skin and you knew his actions would do no less than leave a mark on you. But that's exactly what he wanted. He reattached his fingers as he rubbed in between your glistening folds and you shuddered under his touch. He was good.

"You want my cock?" he purred in your ear. "Of course you do, you little brat. But first I need to prep you."

Maxwell teased the tip of his index finger at your entrance before pushing it straight in. After only two or three thrusts, he inserted his middle finger, stretching you out completely.

"Such a needy little thing," Maxwell groaned in your neck as you quivered beneath him. He thrusted his fingers deeper into you, knuckle deep, so the ridges of his rings grazed your walls, and the tips of his digits pushing against your sweet spot. You were a mess, your knees weak. You were thankful for his strong steady arm wrapped around your stomach, holding you up. As he pumped his hand inside of you, the obscene wet noises filled the hallway and you screamed, feeling your cunt clench around his hand.

"I'm gonna cum," you gasped and he chuckled, increasing his speed. You yelled his name and his free hand slapped over your mouth, muffling your noises.

"Shut up," he spat. "Do you want people to hear? You dirty fucking girl." Maxwell grunted. He pushed in a third finger and you bit down on his hand as the intensity flushed over you. "Fuck...look at you," he cooed as you squeezed your eyes shut. "You're so greedy, aren't you? All this just from my fingers." he laughed, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck and nibbling the skin. "You want to cum sweetheart?" he asked gently, his thumb raising to swirl at your clit as he thrusted his thick fingers into you.

"Y-yes please," you nodded, tears pricking your eyes, but your voice was muffled, his hand still covering your mouth.

"Can't hear you," he sung teasingly and you could practically feel his smirk just from his tone of voice. "Do you think you deserve to cum?"

"I- I do," you whimpered, the tears now streaming down your face. "Please Mr Lord, pl-please."

He couldn't even reply, you were already coming undone beneath him, drenching his hands in your juices. He gasped, removing his hand and grabbing your waist, twisting you around so your back was against the wall and you were now facing him. "Did you just fucking cum on my hand?" he growled. "Did I tell you you could cum?"

"N-no, I mean, yes, I mean, I-" you were a shivering mess as he brought his hand to your lips.

"Clean yourself up you slut," he said, pushing his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to taste your own arousal as you licked your juices from him. He watched you intently as you wrapped your lips around his fingers, looking up at him through your eyelashes and still looking as innocent as ever. Once he was satisfied, he pulled his fingers from your lips and slapped your face. "See what happens when you misbehave?" Just then, you heard voices. Footsteps. Maxwell grabbed your panties and shoved them in his pocket and pulled your dress down. "Compose yourself." he hissed.

"Ah, Mr Lord, we were looking for you," Mr Lodge, one of the gala's investors beamed. "Didn't expect to see you here with Miss Y/L/N, that's for sure." You offered Mr Lodge a polite smile, conscious that your lipstick was probably smeared and your eyeshadow tear stained.

"Is everything alright, Mr Lodge?" Maxwell asked, tilting his head with concern and looking down the corridor back into the party.

"I could ask her the same thing," Mr Lodge turned back at you and frowned. "Have you been crying?"

"She's fine," Maxwell snapped. "Home sick. I took her away from the crowds so she could calm down." Maxwell lied. You nodded slowly, agreeing with his story.

"Oh, well Maxwell, you are such a gentleman. No wonder the ladies throw themselves at you," Mr Lodge grinned, his pearly white teeth sparkling. "Has Mr Lord been taking care of you?"

"Oh yes," you replied, nodding your head eagerly.

"I hope you consider investing into his company then, he truly is such a generous man." Mr Lodge concluded before turning back to Maxwell. "I am excited to hear your speech. Do hurry back."

Maxwell nodded with a charming smile as Mr Lodge padded down the corridor. When he was out of sight, Maxwell grabbed your hand and pulled you into the elevator. "Wh- where are we going?" you asked him. As the doors closed, he pressed his body onto yours, sliding his tongue over your lower lip, begging for entry. His kiss was long, passionate and you could taste the liqueur on his lips. You let your hands get tangled into his hair as grinded over the bulge in his pants.

"My office." he replied, pulling away for breath when the elevator pinged and the door slid open. "We'll finish in my office." Within minutes you were naked, standing in the middle of his outlandishly big office. Maxwell pulled off his how tie and rolled up his sleeves, exposing his tan forearms and gold Cartier watch. "Still wet for me?" He whispered, pulling out his hard cock and rubbing it over your folds. "Fuck you're dripping." he gasped. He had you bent over his desk, your elbows pressing into the oakwood as he lined himself up with your entrance.

"Ngh-, stop teasing," you whimpered. He wrapped his arms around your chest, squeezing your breasts like they were stress balls and bit down on your shoulder.

"I think you'll find I call the shots," Maxwell grunted. You expected more teasing from him, but just then, in one swift motion, he pushed his long thick length inside of you and nestled himself into your cunt. You screamed wantonly, throwing your head back as he held himself inside of you. "Shit," he cursed, whispering your name under his breath. "So tight."

"M-move," you begged as he steadied himself. He pulled you into his chest and began to massage your clit as your walls clenched around him.

"Beg for it." he whispered harshly.

"M-Mr Lord," you groaned, your eyes rolling back as his girth filled you.

"Call me Max," he commanded, his hands leaving your pussy and steadying on your hips.

"Max please," you cried.

"Please what? What do you want, baby?"

"I want you to fuck me hard, I want to feel you fill me up with your cum," you wailed and he smiled ruthlessly.

"If I do that, will you sign the check to Black Gold Cooperative? Will you invest in us?" he snarled.

"Y-yes I will, I promise," you moaned. "Please Max. Fuck, please-"

And with that, he moved. You found yourself screaming, writhing in front of him as he pushed into you in one rough motion. You clutched onto the sides of his desk so hard you were sure your knuckles might have turned white as he relentlessly pounded into you.

Maxwell's hand found your throat as his thrusts became sloppy, his hips snapping deeper and deeper. "Oh yeah baby, you take me so well." he grunted, giving your neck a small squeeze, the gold signet ring on his thumb grazing your skin. "Your cunt feels so good. So- ah, you're so fucking pretty princess."

Your heart was racing. "Don't stop," you cried. "Max I'm close, don't stop. Please."

"I'm close, fuck," his vision became hazy and his words became jumbled as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear about how beautiful you looked wrapped around him. He grabbed your ass and increased his speed significantly. "Tell me you love me," he whispered.

"Wh-what?" you asked, tears spilling from your glazed eyes.

"Fucking tell me you love me!" Maxwell yelled.

"I- I love you!" you gasped. Maxwell whined, his short fingernails digging into your skin as he spilled his seed inside of you without warning.

The feeling of his cum splaying against your walls pushed you over the edge and your pussy clamped down on his cock, milking him entirely. He softened inside of you, eventually pulling out and tucking himself back into his tailored pants. You were left, a shaking mess, bent over on his desk as he slid into his office chair with a sigh. He ran his fingers through his hair, regaining his breath before opening his drawer and throwing you one of his gold company pens.

"Write the check." he ordered, a wicked smile gracing his lips.

What they said was true. Whatever Maxwell Lord wanted, Maxwell Lord got.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #maxwell lord #max lord #maxwell lord x reader #pedro pascal smut

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organabanana · 3 years

Text

leaves of three, let it be [2/3] || harlivy

Chapters: 2/3

Fandom: DCU (Comics)DCUHarley Quinn (Comics)Harley Quinn (Cartoon 2019)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence

Relationships: Pamela Isley/Harleen Quinzel

Characters: Pamela Isley, Harleen Quinzel, Selina Kyle

Additional Tags: Mentions of alcohol, mentions of batman fucking bats, most of this is straight up idiocy tbh, i just finished watching the cartoon so everyone swears like a sailor i’m sorry, rated for (ahem) happenings later on, ivy/harley/catwoman frenemies

Summary

After Harley mistakenly confesses her love and then promptly takes it back, Ivy spends some time sorting through the things she absolutely doesn't feel (and the ones she does). Selina and Harley don't quite help.

Chapter 1: Tumblr | AO3

Chapter 2: AO3

If you ever asked Poison Ivy if she’s into meditation, she’d say she isn’t.

Actually, if you ever asked Poison Ivy if she’s into meditation, she’d probably stare you down until you crumbled under the sheer weight of her judgment and apologized for ever talking to her, but that’s beside the point.

The point is, Ivy doesn’t meditate. The concept of meditation, if you ask her, goes in the same patchouli-scented box as moon-charged crystals and essential oils.

No. What Ivy does is… introspection. Yeah. She introspects. She consciously clears her mind of all intrusive thoughts. Which may sound a lot like meditation, maybe? But — she cannot stress this enough — it’s not the same thing.

So there she is. Sitting on her couch. Introspecting. And it may look like she’s staring off into the distance, but she’s actually looking at a nearly invisible, tiny little hint of a green sprout that’s managed to grow in a crack on the windowsill.

There it is. A tiny little fighter. Just like—

Nope.

No way.

We are absolutely not thinking about her. We’re introspecting. So Ivy takes in a deep breath, in through her nose, eyes fluttering closed as she exhales slowly and then opens them and tries again.

As she was saying. A tiny little sprout. She could go over there and touch it and quite literally breathe life into it. She can’t tell what kind of plant it is, but she could make it bloom if it’s a flowering species. What if it’s a tree? She could make it grow so big its roots would tear this whole building apart just like her heart was torn apart last ni—

Motherf—

“Morning, my little dill pickle.”

Selina climbs in through the window, practically gliding into Ivy’s apartment with the kind of grace that would normally make Ivy stop and stare and perhaps have a not-quite-respectful thought or two.

Listen: she has eyes. Don’t read into it.

Anyway. As graceful and ridiculously nimble as Selina is, she’s also way up high in Ivy’s shit list at the moment (second only to you know who), so today is not the day for lighthearted conversation and platonic crushes.

“Fuck you, Selina,” Ivy offers as a greeting, glancing at the plant to make sure it’s still there. And it is, of course. Selina fucking Kyle may be a bitch and a half, but she knows how to move without leaving a trace.

“Now?” Selina cocks one perfectly manicured eyebrow at Ivy, the slightest hint of a teasing smirk on her face. “I mean I was gonna offer brunch, but that doesn’t sound like the worst midday plan.”

Ivy simply stares for a moment, as if she’s forgotten if there’s one person in the world that’s absolutely immune to even her most wilting looks, that’s Selina fucking Kyle.

“Oh, come on,” Selina practically groans, “stop it. Brooding is such a teen boy move.”

“I am not brooding.”

“Right.” With one single word, Selina makes it clear that she doesn’t believe Ivy and, most importantly, that she doesn’t care enough to argue. “Anyway. Brunch? My treat.”

Ivy closes her eyes. Not meditating. Just introspecting. Just trying to channel the urge to make a full-grown sequoia grow out of Selina Kyle’s ass into something productive. One deep breath in through her nose and—

“We can have margaritas!” Selina lets out a quiet chuckle as she admires the perfectly matte black polish on her fingernails. “Yikes. Too soon?”

Fuck introspection.

“I. Am going. To fucking murder you.” Ivy stands up with every intention to make good on that promise, and Selina must read it in her eyes because for the first time since Ivy’s known her — for the first time in her life, maybe — Selina looks scared.

Well, maybe not scared.

But she is absolutely concerned.

“Fuck me, Ive, damn,” Selina takes one step back, no longer smirking, “calm down, will you?”

Ivy stops, Selina’s audacity basically jolting her out of her murderous rage. “Calm down, Selina? Fucking seriously? You did what you did and now you come here and tell me to fucking calm down?”

Selina tilts her head just so, like she’s conceding (against her will) that maybe there is a reason for Ivy to be somewhat upset with her.

“Oh, come on,” she sighs, rolling her shoulders like the tension has to leave her body somehow, and it will certainly not be via an apology, “it wasn’t even real poison.”

Ivy’s eyes widen slightly in disbelief. Does Selina think she’s mad because she thinks Harley was in actual danger?

No. No, Selina can’t think that, because Selina may be an asshole, but she’s a very smart asshole. So she must know Ivy’s well aware of Harley’s immunity to toxins. She must know that’s not even remotely the reason Ivy’s spent the last eleven hours and some change introspecting all thoughts of last night out of her mind.

For a split second, Ivy feels something similar to warmth towards Selina as she considers that maybe she’s simply ignoring the embarrassing part of the event to spare Ivy. Maybe she’s pretending this is about Harley’s physical wellbeing and not… well. The other thing.

Sadly, the split second passes.

“If it helps,” Selina says, and even before she finishes the sentence Ivy can already sense it won’t help at all, “it’s totally reciprocated.”

Ivy feels it crawling up her veins, thick like sap. She’s managed to distill plenty of emotions, turned them into tonics and toxins and elixirs and used them for her own benefit and the Green’s. She’s bottled love — well, lust — and hatred and rage. Fear, even. Insanity, ironically enough. But this.

This… this humiliation.

Oh, this is something else.

Ivy closes her eyes. In through her nose, and even the air feels like it has to go through that thick mixture of (public) pain and weakness and acknowledged vulnerability to get to her lungs.

It’s one thing to have Harley see her like this. Like that. Like last night. Defenses down and heart out there in the open like her ribcage’s forgotten its purpose. That’s fine, she figures, because it’s been the norm for years and years and years. It’s nothing new, really, to have Harley see her accidentally stumble over the line into pathetic from time to time. It happens.

But Selina.

Selina fucking Kyle.

Selina saw that and she understood what she was seeing and now she’s acknowledging it, and Ivy isn’t even mad anymore.

I mean, she is. She’s really fucking mad.

She’s just many other things as well as mad, so it’s harder to focus on it.

Out through her mouth. Slowly. And her voice is nice and even when she opens her eyes and looks at Selina once again.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ivy lies, walking towards the kitchen like that had been her intention all along, “there is nothing to reciprocate.”

Ivy can feel Selina’s look on the back of her head. She’s not going to give her the satisfaction of turning around, of course. Selina Kyle’s ego is healthy enough as it is. But she can absolutely feel it. A look involving an arched eyebrow and narrowed eyes and possibly a smirk. Maybe the slightest purse of painted lips, if she’s going for judgmental rather than smug.

Selina is multi-faceted in her scorn.

“You have got to be shitting me, Ive,” Selina says, and Ivy still refuses to turn around, focusing instead on staring at the interior of her fridge and ignoring the fact that ninety percent of its contents are there for Harley’s all-day snacking needs.

She ends up grabbing a jug of water not because she’s thirsty, but simply because it’s the only thing in there she knows for a fact is there just for her.

“Seriously?” Selina prods, walking closer and crossing her arms over her chest as she watches Ivy methodically fill a glass of water like it’s a delicate operation that requires her undivided attention. “You’re such a fucking pussy. And I don’t mean that as a compliment.”

Ivy does turn around then, gripping the glass with perhaps a little more force than strictly necessary. In her defense, she’d much rather be gripping Selina’s neck instead.

“Once again, Selina,” she says with a slight shrug, taking a sip of cold water, “no idea what you’re talking about.”

Selina gapes at her. It’s kind of flattering, actually. It’s not every day something leaves Selina Kyle fully unable to speak. Maybe — Ivy thinks to herself, enjoying her water — she’ll never speak again. Maybe she’ll leave Gotham entirely. Wouldn’t that be just—

Ivy’s train of thought is completely derailed by something that is never a good sign: Selina Kyle is laughing.

Not chuckling. Not snickering. Not letting out one of those sarcastic giggles she likes to use to obliterate people’s entire self-esteem.

No. No, this is honest to goodness, full-on belly laughter, and it’s fucking terrifying.

“Wh— what the fuck, Selina?” Ivy asks, trying to sound less scared than she actually is. Selina’s sense of humor is not so much dark as it is downright fucked up, and if she’s finding something in this situation funny, it can only mean someone is about to get crushed, metaphorically or otherwise.

All signs point to Ivy.

“Look at you!” Selina points in the general direction of Ivy, like she’s about to rip her fashion sense to shreds. But this, sadly, has nothing to do with clothes. “Holy shit, you’re in so much deeper than I thought, this is fucking hilarious.”

Ivy takes one step back, until her hip bumps against the counter and she blindly feels around to leave the half-empty glass on it. To her credit, she still manages to try and infuse her voice with something resembling nonchalance one last time.

“You’re not making any sen—“

“Man, you’re in love, in love, huh?”

Ivy’s been shot before. So she feels like she’s not being overly dramatic when she says Selina’s words feel just like that. Like being shot right in the gut. And Ivy tries to be as stoic as she usually is when faced with things like gunshots and blunt force and bat-shaped ninja stars (holy fuck, he’s such a nerd), but she feels a bit like she’s been standing on a castle of cards for the last… however many years it’s been since she met Dr. Quinzel in Arkham, and Selina’s just figured out exactly where to blow to make it all come tumbling down.

“I mean I knew you two were into each other. Obviously,” Selina continues, and Ivy suddenly understands the exact meaning of all those expressions regarding cats and mice, “but I thought it was like… well, you know. Friends in need of a nudge towards the benefits. But this.”

Selina shakes her head, smile as wide as her eyes. She looks both surprised and delighted. Like she’s really just found out there are feelings involved in whatever lust-filled fever dream she’d interpreted as reality before now.

“And you’re the one who’s doing all the yearning. I totally thought she was the useless one. Holy shit.” Selina takes a couple steps in the direction of the window, like using a door like a normal person is simply not an option for her. “How long?”

Ivy opens her mouth, but Selina interrupts her before any sound can come out.

“Don’t answer that. I already know.” Selina waves her hand dismissively. “No wonder you’re fucking terrified. You’d be safer falling in love with an actual hyena.”

“I’m not—“

“Please.” Selina reaches the window and notices that little plant for the first time, giving it a little pat that could almost pass for affectionate if you didn’t know Selina Kyle. “So what’s scarier, Ive?” Selina almost purrs the question. “That she may not love you back, or that she probably does?”

Ivy tells herself she could murder Selina right then and there, with the help from the little plant. Hell, she could probably kill her without help from the plant.

But that wouldn’t really fix anything, right?

“Anyway!” Selina lets out a happy little sigh as she slinks out of the window and onto the fire escape outside. “No brunch, then. I’ll leave you to your brooding.” Her smile turns into a smirk then, eyes narrowed like she’s about to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. “And don’t worry, Ive. I can keep a secret.”

Selina winks at her before she disappears.

Ivy refuses, pointedly, to think about her conversation with Selina.

She tries to go back to her introspection, but it turns out there’s no breathing in and out when your chest is full of feelings to the point of actual physical discomfort, so Ivy gives up on that, too.

She could plot. Scheme, if you will. It’s been a while since she’s gone for an actual multi-step plan to rid Gotham — and, later, the world — of parasitic CEOs profiting off nature. A bit of environmentally friendly murder never fails to put her in a good mood.

But it turns out it’s nearly impossible to come up with a solo plan without being constantly aware of the fact that going solo is no longer her default. A plan involving only herself doesn’t feel like just any random plan anymore. Now it feels like a plan without her, and that’s just— that’s just the opposite of what she needs to be thinking about right now.

So.

What’s an eco-terrorist to do when eco-terrorism is not an option?

Eight hours later she’s in her lab, hair haphazardly held in a bun with a pencil as she looks at her latest experiment through her microscope.

The little sprout from her windowsill sits right next to the microscope in a beaker serving as a makeshift flower pot while Ivy works.

“You know, if this works,” Ivy tells the sprout, eyes trained on the cell that should enter active mitosis any second now, “you’re going to be my sidekick when we take down the next big guy.”

If this works, and she can give this tiny plant the powers she hopes to give her, they can take over Gotham and the world as a team. Ivy’s always worked best with plants, anyway. Who needs—

“Red?”

Harley’s voice is uncharacteristically mellow, but it manages to startle Ivy anyway.

“Jesus, Harley,” Ivy doesn’t look away from the microscope, “what the fuck are you doing here?”

She’s not mad. Not at Harley, anyway. None of this is her fault. She’s just—

Listen. Figuring out exactly what to call what she’s feeling would require introspection, and we’re not doing that anymore.

“Oh. I uh—“ There’s something in Harley’s tone that twists uncomfortably in Ivy’s chest. “Wanted to talk?”

Ivy doesn’t want to talk. Talking, as it turns out, may be the very last thing she wants to do. But there’s that something in Harley’s voice. Something that sounds a bit like embarrassment. Like shame, even. Like maybe if Ivy were to listen in on Harley’s inner monologue right now the voice in there would sound suspiciously like him calling her a fuck-up and an idiot and—

“I’m sorry.” Ivy leaves the little plant’s cell to enter mitosis in its own time and turns to fully focus on Harley. “I didn’t mean to snap. You just startled me.”

Harley visibly relaxes. Ivy decides she hates him just that much more than she did ten seconds ago.

“Didn’t mean to startle ya,” Harley leaves her bat propped against the trunk of a giant nightshade and takes a few steps towards Ivy.

Normally, Harley has no concept of personal space. She sits on whatever surface is closest to Ivy, invading her space and making it impossible for her to fully focus on anything that’s not Harley. It should be annoying, but it isn’t, for reasons Ivy is absolutely not going to consider at this time.

This time, however, Harley hovers just a step or two away from Ivy and her microscope and her standing desk.

It feels…

It feels wrong.

“What did you want to talk about?” Ivy taps the desk and tries not to smile when Harley beams as she practically bounces to sit on it. Her legs dangle over the edge, well-worn combat boots lightly bumping against Ivy’s legs with each soft swing of Harley’s feet.

Nothing really feels wrong anymore.

“I’m sorry, Pammy.”

Ivy shakes her head. “It’s fine. You know you’re always welcome here, I just wasn’t expecting—“

“No,” Harley says, and when Ivy looks into her eyes she realizes Harley’s not going to let her pretend she has no idea what this is about, “I mean I’m sorry about the other night.”

Ivy stands up a little straighter. Takes half a step back, like that’s going to help. Crosses her arms over her chest.

“It’s fine.”

Harley tilts her head just so, bright blue eyes narrowing for a second, and Ivy sees a flash of Harleen right there staring back at her. Reading her fucking thoughts, almost. It’s unnerving.

“It’s fine, Harley,” Ivy insists, tone sharper as she takes another step back. She can hear the low rumble of every vine in her lab stirring along with her mood.

There’s a moment there, maybe a few seconds long, where they both simply stare at each other in silence. Like they’re trying to figure each other out in a way that feels completely foreign because she knows Harley, and Harley knows her, and there’s nothing to figure out. Nothing at all.

“You know—“ Harley’s voice sounds a bit brittle, like it may just break if it hits the wrong word, “you know I didn’t mean it, Pammy.”

Ivy nods. Once.

“I know.” She knows now and she knew when she first met Harley and she’s known for the last however many years it’s been. She fucking knows it’s love but it’s not love like that. She knows. “It’s fine.”

“You know Selina just got in my head, right?” Harley keeps talking, and on some level Ivy knows there’s nothing to be angry about because Harley just wants to explain. She just wants to make sure things aren’t weird between them because they’re best friends. But it feels almost cruel anyway. “You know I don’t—“

“I know you don’t love me, Harley, yes, for fuck’s sakes, I’m not an idiot.”

“But I—“

“Don’t.” Ivy holds one finger up. If she has to listen to Harley say she loves her, but just not in that way she may lose her fucking mind. “It’s fine.”

For a few blessed seconds, it feels like maybe Harley will let it go. Like maybe she’ll just drop it and let Ivy get out of this with some semblance of pride.

But that would just be too much to ask, wouldn’t it?

“I do love you, Ive, it’s just—“

“Holy shit, Harley!” Ivy raises her voice and hears the tell-tale creak of vines growing up the wall. “I know! I fucking know, all right? Selina is a dick and you thought margarita mix was a love potion and you’re not fucking in love with me, all right? I know!”

“But—“

“No! No fucking but!” Ivy swears she hears it. The little snap when she loses her last thread of control over what she’s saying and things spill out before she has a chance to filter them. “I don’t love you either, have you even considered that?”

Harley’s eyes widen in the purest expression of surprise Ivy’s ever seen in her life.

“Right!” There’s a part of Ivy that wants to stop. She wants to stop and backtrack and tell Harley she didn’t mean it because she can’t stand the thought of hurting her, and she needs her to know that of course — of course — Ivy loves her. But she just can’t right now. “I’m not secretly in love with you! All right? I’m glad you don’t love me. I’m fucking fine.”

Harley opens her mouth like she’s about to speak, but closes it without making a sound. She doesn’t look hurt, necessarily. She looks… she looks disarmed, almost. Like she doesn’t know how to react.

“I’ll just—“ Harley swallows and jumps off the desk. “We’re fine, so I’ll just leave. Yeah?”

Ivy nods. “Fine.”

“Cool. Yeah.” Harley sort of smiles, but not really. She moves a bit slower than usual as she goes back to her bat and walks towards the door, and there’s a part of Ivy that wants to stop her and fix this somehow — because it’s not fine at all — but self-preservation wins in the end.

“Remember to lock the door on your way out.”

For a second, Harley almost looks like she may say something. And for a second, Ivy almost hopes she will. But Harley just nods and walks out, and when she hears the lock snap into place, Ivy knows she’s all alone with her plants.

Right where she belongs.

#harlivy #harlivy fanfiction #harlivy fanfic #poison ivy #harley quinn #fic

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buoyantsaturn · 3 years

Text

Riding Bikes Across the Street Without Looking Either Way (2/2)

summary: “Well, you can stay with me and Annabeth as long as you need to, okay? We’ve got a shitty couch with your name on it, and we’ll make sure your dad never finds you.”

word count: 3,955

read on ao3 | read chapter one

Nico hadn’t slept in three days by the time he arrived at Percy’s apartment late at night, around two days after he’d left home. He’d barely stopped along the way, so when Annabeth opened the door for him, she looked like she’d seen a ghost. (At this point, Nico felt like he might as well be one.)

“Oh my god,” Annabeth said as she grabbed Nico’s shoulder to pull him inside, drawing him straight into a hug. “Neeks, you look like shit. Are you-- Are you bleeding?”

Nico refrained from reaching up to check his head, and looked to the side in an attempt to stop Annabeth from looking too closely, though she took his face in her hands and turned his head back the other way. “I’m fine,” Nico muttered when Annabeth gasped.

“You are not,” she argued. “You’re going to the hospital.”

“I just drove for two days, I don’t wanna drive anymore,” Nico told her. “Can’t I sleep first?”

“Oh, you are not driving like this,” Annabeth said as she started further into the apartment. “You probably shouldn’t have driven in the first place! Wait here. Percy just put Luke down for the night, but he’ll take you.”

Then Annabeth disappeared around the corner, so Nico stood in the doorway with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat. He let his eyes fall shut and his head tip forward, and just about fell asleep standing up until his body started to lean, and he startled awake to catch himself. When he opened his eyes, Percy was there with his coat in hand and concern written across his face.

Nico blinked up at him, and Percy seemed to take that as his invitation to draw Nico in for a hug. Nico flinched back when Percy got too close to the wound on the side of his head, so Percy jumped back like he’d been shocked. “Dude,” Percy whispered, his eyes full of something like pity that made Nico’s stomach turn. Percy pulled on his coat and held out a hand. “Alright, give me your keys.”

For a second, Nico didn’t move. He wanted to argue, to say he was too tired and that they could just go in the morning, but he didn’t want to get hit again. (Percy wouldn’t hit him, would he?) Nico took the keys out of his pocket and dropped them into Percy’s hand.

They walked down to the road and got into Nico’s car. It wasn’t until they were a few minutes down the road that Percy tried asking what happened, though Nico wasn’t very willing to share. He hadn’t told Percy much more than things have gotten worse and I’m coming to New York, so he was sure that Percy was more worried for him than he was letting on. Percy’s mind was probably reeling over all the different things that might have happened to leave Nico in such a state, but Nico couldn’t bring himself to say it.

He let Percy guess, though he never got very specific. Percy had narrowed it down to Hades and drinking, though Nico knew those weren’t hard to figure out.

When they sat down in the hospital’s waiting room, Percy finally said, “You know you’ll have to tell the doctor what happened, right? I mean, maybe they can help you, like, file a police report or something.”

Nico was shaking his head before Percy had even finished talking. “I don’t want to file a report,” he insisted. “I don’t… I don’t wanna think about it anymore, and I don’t want him to know where I am.”

“Oh. Right, of course,” Percy said quietly, then wrapped an arm around Nico’s shoulders to bring him into a side-hug. “Well, you can stay with me and Annabeth as long as you need to, okay? We’ve got a shitty couch with your name on it, and we’ll make sure your dad never finds you.”

“Thanks,” Nico whispered, and his head fell onto Percy’s shoulder. “Um, and can you do me a favor?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“When we get back to your place, can you call Seph? Just to let her know I got here safely, but...don’t say where I am. And then delete her number. Maybe block it, too.”

Percy rubbed his arm. “Yeah, man, I can do that.”

A moment later, Nico’s name was called, and he tensed. “Will you come back with me?” he asked Percy as he got to his feet, and Percy nodded. A nurse took them into the emergency room and had Nico sit on one of the beds to wait for the doctor.

Another minute or two passed before a man with curly brown hair and a lab coat approached and said, “Hi there, Mr. di Angelo. I’m Doctor Markowitz, and I’ll be taking care of your examination before my supervisor comes over. It says on your form here that you have a head injury, do you want to tell me a little more about that while I take a look?”

Nico ducked his head and shrugged. Markowitz glanced toward Percy, who said, “He doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, noted,” Markowitz said as he pulled on a pair of gloves. He stepped up to Nico’s side and located the wound quickly, carefully brushing away Nico’s hair to get a better look at it. “Can you at least tell me what made the wound?”

“A glass bottle,” Nico muttered, and averted his gaze when Percy’s eyes widened.

“Glass?” Markowitz repeated, then took a closer look. “Well, it doesn’t look like there’s any broken pieces in here, so that’s good.”

“The bottle didn’t break,” Nico replied. “I don’t think.”

“Must’ve been one heavy-duty bottle to hit you this hard and not break,” Markowitz commented, and Nico suppressed a flinch. “Alright, hang tight for just a minute while I call my supervisor over. I’m thinking you’re going to need a CT scan to rule out a concussion, and possibly an X-ray to make sure your skull is all in one piece. I’ll be right back.”

As soon as the doctor was out of sight, Percy turned to Nico and asked, “He hit you with a glass bottle?”

Nico folded his arms over his stomach, one hand wrapping around his other arm. He didn’t respond. He didn’t have time to, either, before Percy’s phone started to ring.

“It’s Annabeth,” he said, “probably just checking in. I’ll be right back, okay?”

And then Percy was gone, too, and Nico’s hand gripped tighter. He could hear Percy at first, answering the call and saying that they’d already talked to a doctor, but then his voice dropped lower and Nico had to strain to hear it.

“He’s not acting like himself,” Percy whispered. “It’s like he’s fifteen again, he’s barely even talking to me.” A pause, and then, “Can that happen? Can something like this make him, like, regress, or whatever?” Nico’s fingernails began clawing at his skin. “Oh, the doctor’s coming back. I’ll let you know what’s up as soon as I can.”

On top of a moderate concussion, Nico had a skull fracture, was severely dehydrated, and had reached the point of exhaustion that the doctors were surprised to still see him upright. Nico declined an IV drip of fluids and something that would help him sleep, insisting that he just wanted to leave, so Percy drove him home with a prescription that basically boiled down to rest.

Nico passed out on the couch as soon as they were inside, and didn’t wake for almost twenty hours. When he did finally awaken, he got up to find Annabeth in the kitchen making dinner.

“Hey, Neeks,” she said as she stirred a pot of pasta. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” he replied, folding his arms across his stomach and eying the stove. “Can I help?”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow at him. “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“I just did.” Nico’s nose scrunched up at the idea of sitting on that couch any longer. “I’m rested. So, can I help?”

“Why don’t you see if you can help Percy with Luke, instead?”

Nico hesitated. “But I like cooking.”

“Do you like babies?”

“I...don’t know.”

“Well, if you’re going to be staying with us for a little while, then I’d like to know that you’re comfortable around my son,” Annabeth told him. “You never know, I might ask you to babysit. So, go hang out with Luke, and I’ll shout for everyone when this is ready.”

Nico huffed and said, “Fine,” then turned out of the kitchen. Before he could fully leave, though, he stopped himself and said, “Actually, um. After dinner, do you think you could help me with something?”

“Maybe,” she replied, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. “What is it?”

“I need to change my phone number.”

Annabeth nodded. “Yeah, we’ll figure that out.”

As it turned out, Nico got along with Luke just fine. It was almost easier than hanging out with adults, he realized, because he didn’t feel the need to try to hold a conversation. Luke could only say a handful of words, anyway. Nico spent a good half hour just holding blocks whenever Luke gave them to him.

As dinner came and went, Nico learned what sorts of things Luke could and couldn’t eat, and then later on watched how to go about putting Luke to sleep at night. Apparently parenting was easier than people made it seem. How had Hades messed up so bad?

When the living room was once again baby-free, Annabeth sat down with Nico to help him figure out how to change his phone number. Percy was laying across the floor for some reason, and had been asking Nico about college in an attempt to get his mind off of running away from home. Unfortunately, that wasn’t really something Nico wanted to talk about, either.

“So, do you need to, like, transfer to a new school or something?” Percy asked as he tossed one of Luke’s toys into the air above him. “You know, since you can’t go to class.”

“It’s all online,” Nico replied. He was watching Annabeth work from the opposite end of the couch because the brightness of his phone screen hurt his head. “I talked to somebody at NYU last summer about doing all online classes.”

“Are you sure you’ll be able to do that?” Annabeth asked. “You can’t even look at your phone long enough to see who’s texting you.”

“And that doctor said you need to avoid screens for at least a week, didn’t he?” Percy added.

Nico felt his heart rate rise as his anxiety spiked again. “Well, what day is it?” he asked, hoping his voice wasn’t shaking as much as his hands were. “Maybe I’ll have time to rest before my classes start.”

“It’s Wednesday, the…” Percy drew out the last word as he pulled out his phone, “...sixth. When do your classes start?”

Nico dropped his head into his hands. “Two days ago.”

“Okay, no big deal,” Annabeth said without raising her eyes from her laptop screen. “Just email your professors to explain the problem, and ask for an extension on anything you missed.”

“But I won’t be able to do anything for another week, and at that point, I’ll be two weeks behind in, like, half of my classes,” Nico complained, scrubbing his hands over his face and then scraping his hair back from his face. “And then what if I can’t catch up? Maybe I should just take the semester off.”

“Alright, take a breath.” Annabeth reached over and set a hand on Nico’s arm, but he flinched out from under the touch. “I think you should sleep on it. There’s no need to make such an impulsive decision.”

Nico pulled his knees up to his chest and dropped his gaze to the floor. “No. It’s better if I drop the classes now instead of having to withdraw later. I’ll just start up again in the fall.”

He glanced up again just in time to see Annabeth and Percy sharing a worried look. He grabbed onto his arm and squeezed.

The apartment was too small for three adults. Maybe if Nico hadn’t had to sleep on the couch, then he would’ve been less of an inconvenience to Percy and Annabeth. He tried to make up for it in other ways. He cooked whenever he could, and he washed the dishes every night. Nico was trusted enough to look after Luke on his own for short periods of time - if Percy needed to run out to the store while Annabeth was in class or at work, usually.

Still, Nico was in the way. He hadn’t quite assimilated into their home, and he’d heard them whispering late at night when they all should have been asleep that money was tight.

Things came to a head when Nico finished off a pot of coffee one morning, assuming that the others had gotten their share. He was feeding Luke so that Annabeth could get out the door in time for class when Percy stumbled into the kitchen, half-awake and already grumpy. He grabbed a mug out of the cabinet before reaching for the empty pot and freezing at the sight.

He slammed the pot back into place, and Nico flinched.

“Damn it, Nico, did you drink all the coffee?” Percy snapped.

Nico sunk in his seat, hoping to appear as small as possible. He watched Percy pick up his mug again, and imagined it shattering against his skull. He wound his arms around his stomach and ducked his head.

“The least you could do is make another pot,” Percy continued. “God.”

“Sorry.” Nico pushed his chair back, the legs screeching against the floor and making him flinch again. “Sorry.” He was up on his feet one second, and then he blinked, and he was in the living room. He could hear his pulse in his ears. His head darted back and forth, but there was nowhere to hide.

Oh god, why wasn’t there anywhere to hide?

He couldn’t hide in the bathroom, because Annabeth was in there. He couldn’t hide in either bedroom, because the doors didn’t have locks.

He went into Luke’s room anyway. Nico figured he would have a better chance at hiding underneath the crib then he would Percy’s bed. And then, when he shut the door behind himself, he saw the window.

The fire escape.

Nico pulled the curtains loose and climbed out the window before sliding it shut. He heard Percy shouting for him as he sat down on the nearest step. He almost got up and ran down the fire escape just to make sure he wouldn’t get hit. Instead, he stayed perfectly still to ensure that the creaking of the fire escape wouldn’t give him away.

He only wished he’d brought a jacket.

Nico was blowing on his fingers to keep them warm when the window slid open. He must have already been frozen to the step, or maybe it was the panic that kept him from jumping up and running away.

“Nico,” Annabeth breathed with a sigh of relief. She held a hand out to him. “What the hell are you doing out here? Get inside, it’s freezing!”

Nico hesitated. “Is...Percy gone?”

Annabeth frowned, waving her hand impatiently. “What are you talking about? Why would he be gone?”

Nico stuffed his hands under his arms and ducked his head. Of course Percy wouldn’t be gone. He lived there. It was Nico that was always going to have to run away.

“Do you need him to be gone?” Annabeth asked gently.

Nico shrugged.

Annabeth sighed, and Nico tensed. She sounded annoyed. “Alright, don’t move.”

Then she shut the window. Maybe she locked it, too, so that Nico wouldn’t be able to get back inside. He would freeze to death out there, and he could finally stop being everybody’s problem.

The window opened again, and Annabeth poked her head out. “I told him to back off. He won’t come into Luke’s room while we’re in here, so would you please come back inside?” She held her hand out to him again, and this time, Nico took it. Her hand was unnaturally warm, or maybe he had let himself get colder than he thought.

Nico’s bare feet touched the carpet and he immediately dropped to the floor while Annabeth shut the window behind him. She wrapped him up in a blanket and wound her arms around his shoulders. “Tell me what happened, Nico.”

“I…” His teeth started chattering. Why was he shivering now that he was back in the warmth? “I drank the last of the coffee. I thought Percy already had some.”

“So your solution was the freeze to death in repentance?”

“He was mad,” Nico whispered, his arms tightening around his knees. “I thought he was gonna hit me.”

“Nico,” Annabeth said, her voice stern but not harsh, “you know Percy would never hit you. He loves you.”

“I thought my dad loved me.”

Annabeth pressed her forehead to the top of Nico’s head. “Neeks, this isn’t working out.”

Nico’s next breath caught in his throat, and he felt his eyes sting with the beginnings of tears.

Annabeth started rubbing his back. “I know we said that you could stay here as long as you need, but… Nico, this place isn’t big enough for all of us, and Percy and I… Our money is spread so thin already that we’re constantly stressed about paying the bills on time, and having you here too… We can’t walk on eggshells in our own home. I’m sorry, Nico. We love you, and we’re not kicking you out, but we need to start looking for another option for you. And maybe a therapist, too.”

Nico dropped his head onto his knees as his tears started to fall. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m messing everything up. I never should’ve come here, I’m sorry.”

“No, Nico, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Annabeth assured him. “And I’m glad you came here and got away from your dad. I’m glad you’re safe. And I’m sorry that Percy’s such an ass when he doesn’t get his coffee right away. I should’ve warned you about that.”

“Not your fault,” Nico muttered.

Annabeth patted his shoulder. “Not yours, either. Are you gonna be okay?”

Nico hesitated, then nodded.

“Do you think you’re ready to talk to Percy?” she asked. “I think he’d like to apologize.”

“Yeah,” Nico said, still nodding. “I’m ready.”

Annabeth stood, then offered a hand to help Nico to his feet. She led the way out of the room and toward the living room where Percy was sitting on the floor with Luke, and as soon as Percy saw them, he jumped to his feet.

“Nico!” Percy exclaimed, rushing forward with his arms held out, though he froze when he saw Nico flinch. Percy glanced at Annabeth, his expression wavering and his arms drooping slightly before he asked, “Um, can I hug you?”

Nico took a step closer and nodded. Percy’s arms closed around him.

“Dude, you had me so freaked out,” Percy said into Nico’s hair. “I’m so sorry for yelling at you. I’ll try not to do it again, I promise.”

“Thanks,” Nico replied, shifting subtly until Percy released him. He took a few steps back and held his arms over his stomach again, as if defending a weak point.

Annabeth set a hand on his shoulder. “I have to leave for class, but are you going to be okay?”

Nico took a deep breath and met her gaze. “I’ll be okay.”

“Good. When I get home, we can start looking for a therapist,” she said in a way that let Nico know she also meant if that’s okay with you. “And Percy, when you put Luke down for his nap, you two should start looking for apartments.”

Annabeth pulled Nico forward and kissed his forehead. She kissed Percy on the lips, then Luke on the top of his head as she grabbed her bag, and then she was gone.

Nico didn’t move for a few minutes. Percy settled back onto the floor with Luke and eventually turned the TV on for some background noise. Nico edged his way toward the couch and sat down in the corner, curled up with his knees to his chest.

Percy reached back and tapped on Nico’s shin with his fingers. “Hey, no hard feelings, right?” he asked, his head tipping back to rest on the cushion next to Nico. “I love having you here, dude, and I’ve missed you a lot, but I’m sorry that it’s not working out. Besides, don’t you think it’ll be better to have your own place, anyway?”

Nico’s arms tightened around his legs. “I don’t...want to live alone. I don’t think I can.”

“Oh.” Percy’s gaze turned back to Luke. “I guess I always assumed that you were the type to like having your own space. Uh, okay, well, we can…” Percy hummed in thought. “We can look on...Craigslist? To find you a roommate?” He glanced back at Nico, and there must have been something about the look on Nico’s face that made Percy burst into laughter. “Okay, you’re right. Stupid idea.”

Percy scooped the TV remote up off the floor and tossed it back to Nico. “Go ahead and put on whatever.”

Nico flipped through the channel guide for a few minutes, but ended up sticking with whatever kid’s show was already playing.

“Maybe you could crash with somebody we already know,” Percy said. “We could talk to Jason or Leo, or-- No, wait, now that I think of it, I think Leo might be crashing on Jason’s couch… Hm. You can’t get a dorm at NYU if you’re not taking classes this semester… Man, the only person I can think of that has a spare room is my mom.”

Nico felt himself perk up for the first time in days. “Do you think you could ask her?”

Percy shot him a teasing grin. “You wanna live with my mom?” He looked away before Nico’s expression could fall, and shrugged. “Alright, I’ll call her after lunch. I’m sure she’d love to have you.”

Nico had his first meeting with a therapist the day before moving out of Percy and Annabeth’s apartment. It didn’t take long to pack up his belongings, mainly because he’d hardly taken anything out of his car to begin with. But when he got to Sally’s with the Jackson-Chases not far behind, they unloaded everything from his car to take inside. The guest room was a bit of a tight squeeze with all of Nico’s boxes and suitcases inside, but he had plenty of time to unpack and organize later.

He came out of the room - his room - to thank Sally and Paul a few more times, but when he stepped into the kitchen, Sally beat him to it. She pulled Nico into a hug, practically squeezing the life out of him as she did so, and kissed the side of his head. “We’re so happy to have you here, Nico,” she whispered to him. “You stay here as long as you need.”

“It won’t be forever,” Nico promised her after weaseling out of the hug. “I just need to figure some stuff out, and maybe I can try to get a dorm when the fall semester starts, and--”

Sally took Nico’s face in her hands and pressed her lips to his forehead. “Take all the time you need, honey.”

Nico felt like he might cry. He forgot what it was like to have a mom.

thanks for reading!

buy me a coffee | more nico birthday event stuff

#nico di angelo #percy jackson #annabeth chase #i'm in hell #mine #my writing #nico birthday event

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mostlycompetentwriter · 4 years

Text

Domesticated

M/F Pairing: Y/N x Bang Chan (Stray Kids)

Genre: Married Life AU

Warnings: Smut, language, some mentions of cheating (but not with the main pairing)

Word Count: 19,922 (I might break this up later on)

Summary: Marriage was something Y/N had been dreaming about since she was a little girl. But now, ten years later, she’s married to her college sweetheart, but their relationship isn’t entirely perfect. There’s the issue of her new boss, aka her ex-boyfriend Seo Changbin, and Chan’s younger brother Felix who insists on calling her Medusa. Yet, through it all, Y/N is positive she wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

Notes: Y'all are really out here sleeping on husband Bang Chan and I won’t allow it anymore. Because Chan is 100% husband goals.

“Where do you see yourself in five years?”

I slowly exhaled after disregarding my somewhat passable resume, courtesy of one of those sketchy website builders, to look at the interviewer who waited for my response, pen poised over his expensive notebook. I swallowed hard as I struggled to compose myself under pressure. Because there was a professional answer somewhere in the back of my useless brain, but a dozen other responses, far more honest than his expectations, were waiting on the tip of my tongue.

Such as:

Waiting at home for my husband because all I do is stare at the clock, counting down the minutes until he walks through the door. I kinda miss when we were in college and could see each other sporadically between long lectures, grabbing lunch at the Wendy’s on South Campus. Now, the most exciting thing that happens is the occasional blow job before we pass out on the worn mattress in our master bedroom.

Sometimes Chan will host dinner parties at the house for his expensive doctor friends. He won’t spare me a single glance while I rush to fill glasses with rich-tasting wine, keeping an eye on Han Jisung because he can’t take more than three refills before he’s trying to dismantle the house. I’ll also have to ignore the really old surgeon who Chan admires because he likes to touch my ass when I pass through the living room. Maybe I was suited to be a sugar baby in another life.

On the rare occasion when Chan actually uses his cock, he’ll pant in my ear the entire time because he’s worn out from long hours at the hospital. Chan will cum before me most of the time and I’m lucky if he’s cognizant enough to eat me out so that I can finally fall asleep from my post-orgasmic haze. Heck, I’ll even take his fingers on my clit if it means an assured eight hours of sleep.

Shit, I miss being young.

I cleared my throat, deciding on the professional answer because I highly doubt Seo Enterprises wanted to hire a desperate housewife.

I was sprawled out on the couch in our living room when Chan came home that evening. I barely acknowledged his rushed greeting, watching through narrowed eyes as he ran into the kitchen. “Babe,” came his anticipated whine. “There’s no leftovers?”

“I didn’t feel like cooking,” I said, turning over to bury my face in the throw pillows decorating the cushions. It really wasn’t that comfortable since Chan insisted we get the stiff, fancy leather futon as opposed to the appealing sectional that could actually recline.

“You didn’t cook?”

Chan’s voice was closer this time but I still ignored him, sensing an impending headache. “I had an interview.”

“That was hours ago,” Chan pouted.

I sighed loudly. “The interview went great, honey, thanks for asking.”

“I’ve been at the hospital since 5 this morning,” Chan went on, weight dipping beneath the couch at the opposite end. “I didn’t even have time for lunch because Jisung almost fucked up a patient’s IV.”

“Remind me again why he still has a job.”

“Because he somehow graduated from nursing school and has a license claiming he’s qualified,” Chan said. “Plus, he’s my friend.”

“You have shit taste in friends,” I said, protesting when his hand landed a firm smack against my ass.

“Minho tried to wreck the Corvette when he ran out of cigarettes.”

“Minho is loyal.”

“He still wants to fuck you,” Chan grumped. “Ten years after college and he’s trailing after your ass.”

“Darling, you don’t have to be jealous when I’m wearing your ugly ring on my finger 24/7.”

“It was my mother’s!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Bang Chan,” I snapped while grabbing one of my support pillows from beneath my weight, launching it at my husband’s head. Sadly, Chan dodged at the last minute, much to my chagrin, smirking as he dug his fingers into my sides, forcing loud, high-pitched giggles as we both unceremoniously fell into the spotlessly clean floor. “Channie,” I groaned as he rolled on top of me, pinning my hands above my head before deciding to offer me a sloppy kiss with far too much tongue. “You’re fucking gross,” I said, biting at his lower lip in revenge.

“Yeah? Well, you’re fucking sexy,” Chan purred, nuzzling his head between my breasts.

“Stop it, you oaf!” I grumbled. “My period starts tomorrow. My tits have been sore all day.”

“Maybe I should have a look,” Chan teased, a free hand working loose one of the buttons on my shirt.

“And what good will that do?”

“Well, I am a doctor.”

“You just want to see my tits so you have something to jerk off to in the shower tonight.”

“Shower with me then,” Chan suggested. “I’ll fuck you against the wall.”

“Will you have the stamina?” I questioned. “You poor thing, how can you get it up when you haven’t eaten all day?”

Chan frowned at my mocking tone. “Are you turning down my cock?”

“You’re only half-hard,” I said, lifting my thigh against the tight bulge of his scrubs.

Chan let out a sigh, but his smile was endearing. “What if I order takeout? Then we can fuck in the shower.”

“Channie,” I cooed. “You always know how to talk dirty to me.”

I stand by my belief that email was now an archaic form of communication, but the number of big businesses that forced their employees to make an account @ their company name was ridiculous. But if I wanted to find a job in this big ass city, then I needed to play by the rules. Surprisingly, my most recent application was progressing with far more success than I could have anticipated, and I had read over the new email from Seo Enterprises at least half a dozen times:

Dear Mrs. Bang,

Thank you for taking the time to interview with our staff yesterday afternoon. After carefully reviewing your file with our CEO, he has asked us to schedule one last consultation. Please let us know your earliest convenience.

“That must be a good thing,” Minho remarked, digging his spoon into my ice cream since his bowl was empty and I wasn’t in the mood to argue with him.

“I guess,” I said, formulating a quick reply because I really wanted this fancy, high-paying Secretary job. I mean, sitting at home all day was definitely not high on my list of accomplishments.

“What’s the hurry anyway?” Minho asked as he licked his spoon clean. “Bang has enough money that you could just smooch off him for the rest of your life.”

“That’s not fair,” I said. “I want us to be equals.”

“Wasn’t that the point of marrying a doctor, Y/N?” Minho asked. “Otherwise, you could still be screwing around with me.”

“Except we aren’t 18 anymore,” I pointed out, frowning in his direction. “And says the guy who works part-time at his sister’s pet shop.”

“Hey!” Minho protested, shoving his spoon in my face. “I’m helping the strays. Population control and shit.”

“So what? You’re snipping some dog penises, good for you.”

Minho sat back with a disgruntled sigh. “What do you want to do after this?”

“I’ll bring Chan some lunch since he didn’t get a chance to eat yesterday,” I said. “Interested in accompanying an old friend?”

“Not really,” Minho said. “But I don’t have anything better to do.”

I maintained a long list of places that I truly despised and the hospital was number one. I always tried desperately not to let it show when I visited Chan because it wasn’t really his fault. I had a bad history when it came to hospitals and the memories lingered like the permanent smell of alcohol that Chan brought home with him on his scrubs.

“Did you see that guy in the waiting room?” Minho asked after I checked us in at the front desk. “He was seconds away from bleeding out on the floor.”

“Don’t talk about blood,” I shivered, hurrying to the elevator while frantically hitting the corresponding floor number.

“This reminding you of Freshman year?” Minho asked since he was a total airhead and missed out on the memo where I specifically told him to keep his mouth shut about that stupid Frat Party.

“There are five reasons why I hate hospitals,” I said, holding up my hand in front of his stupid face. “Don’t make me spell it out for you.”

“Is Freshman year one of them?”

“Shut the hell up, Minho.”

A quiet chuckle resounded through the empty elevator while I impatiently waited for our stop. “You’re feisty today,” Minho remarked once the doors reopened.

I ignored the nasty linoleum floors, heels clicking with every step I took in the direction of Chan’s office. “I’m eating with Chan and then we’re never coming here again.”

“Agreed,” Minho said, keeping pace with me while cringing at the gurneys being pushed through the hallways at an alarming rate.

We had almost made it to the end of the floor when I heard a lazy voice call out my name from one of the surrounding rooms. I closed my eyes because I could recognize that voice anywhere since it basically haunted my worst nightmares. He might not know it yet, but Han Jisung was the last person I wanted to run into because maybe, just maybe, he was one of the five reasons why I hated this place.

“Guys!” Jisung gushed, smiling brilliantly. “I’d hug you but I just finished cleaning piss off the floor.”

“Jesus, Han,” I said, wrinkling my nose against the overpowering smell of ammonia. “Is Chan in his office?”

“He was supposed to meet with our new superintendent,” Jisung said, grinning like a complete idiot when he shoved his gloved hands towards Minho who now looked a few beats away from losing his ice cream.

“You’re really pushing your luck today,” Minho growled at him.

“The meeting room is the last room on the right,” Jisung said, finally proving to be useful for once in his life.

I grabbed Minho’s arm because he was close to decking Jisung in the face and I didn’t need the security guards to tell Chan that I let my best friend attack one of his nurses. “Come on,” I said, urging him away from the potential crime scene.

“He’s this close to finding himself with a bloody nose,” Minho complained. “You know what’s funny? I’m pretty sure Han Jisung wouldn’t even know how to help himself.”

“You’re probably right,” I agreed, straightening the collar of my blouse as I peeked in through the tight blinds obscuring the glass wall of the room Jisung had indicated. “There’s Chan...” I started, trailing off when I noticed that he was engrossed in deep conversation with an unfamiliar woman.

“Oh, she’s really hot,” Minho remarked, wincing when I shoved my elbow into his chest.

“Commentary is not necessary,” I said, folding my arms across my chest as I tapped my foot against the floor. Who the hell did this bitch think she was?

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you,” Minho teased and I swallowed my pride, trying to ignore the way she reached out to touch Chan’s arm.

Thankfully, Chan finally noticed me outside, offering me a cheesy wave which I refused to reciprocate as he said something to the woman. I waited outside the door, attempting my best stern expression even if Chan completely ignored my efforts, encasing me in his powerful arms. “Y/N,” he cooed.

“Chan,” I choked out, struggling against his strength.

Minho snorted at the display. “I’m going to find the cafeteria. Text me when you wanna leave, Y/N.”

I waved him off once Chan eventually released me. I sucked in a few grateful breaths while holding up the takeout bag I had brought. “Is there somewhere we can go?”

Chan nodded, reaching for my hand. “Sorry I took so long, I was meeting with the new superintendent.”

I pursed my lips at that revelation. “She doesn’t look old enough to be a superintendent.”

“She’s around my age,” Chan said and I frowned because that just made everything worse.

The hospital’s staff room was small, the smell of coffee heavy in the air as Chan closed the door behind us. “Nobody should come in.”

“Good,” I said, choosing the only table that looked halfway clean before sitting down with a sigh. “I brought you lunch.”

“Thanks, sweetie,” Chan said, gratefully accepting the bag from me while he sat down on the remaining chair. I glared at him from across the table, watching as he dug into the cheap Japanese like it was his last meal on earth. “Is something wrong?” he asked over a mouthful of noodles. Something college Chan would have never done when we first started dating, but I suppose that’s what you get with marriage.

“I saw you were pretty close with your new superintendent,” I said.

“Oh yeah,” Chan replied cheerfully, stuffing even more food into his impossibly wide mouth. “She’s super smart. Like, Harvard graduate smart.”

“Of course she is,” I murmured. “Do you like her?”

“As a boss I guess,” Chan said, still horribly naive to the real problem. I cathartically drummed my fingernails against the surface of the table.

“Are you coming home early tonight?” I asked him. “I’ll fix your favorite.”

Chan’s eyes lit up because, despite the food sitting right in front of him, he always got excited at the prospect of another meal. “Really?”

I nodded. “I’ll put the good whiskey on ice.”

Chan sat back with a dramatic groan. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Where is all this coming from?”

“I’m just being a good wife,” I said, taking on a dismissive tone.

Chan grinned. “Do you want something, sweetheart? You know I’ll buy you anything.”

“No reason,” I chirped. “I just want you to remember how good am I to you.”

“Of course I know that,” Chan said, reaching across the table to squeeze one of my hands. “I didn’t just marry you for your beautiful face.”

“That’s not what you said when we first met,” I reminded him cheekily, enjoying the way his ears grew red. “Should I do a reenactment?”

“That’s not necessary,” Chan said, quickly dismissing the topic. “Did you hear back from your interview?”

“Oh I did,” I said. “They want me to come in and meet the CEO.”

“What for?” Chan scoffed, returning back to his meal.

“Well, I am taking on the secretary position,” I said. “Maybe he wants to make sure I have good phone etiquette.”

“Yeah?” Chan grumbled. “Or, he wants to make sure you look pretty for him so he has something nice to look at all day.”

“And what’s wrong with that?” I asked him because I loved it when Chan got possessive.

“I don’t want some rich bastard drooling over my wife,” Chan said, chopsticks clenched tightly between his fingers.

“Yeah? Well, it works both ways, you know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh come on, Chan,” I sighed. “Your superintendent was totally flirting with you.”

Chan put down his chopsticks, eyeing me cluelessly. “No, she wasn’t.”

“Yes, she was,” I immediately countered, reaching down for my purse. “I watched her the entire time.”

“Were you spying on me?” Chan asked with a smirk.

“Minho’s probably waiting for me,” I replied instead, smoothing down my skirt as I stood up from the table.

“Don’t you think that’s too short?” Chan asked, pointing at my lower section as if personally offended.

“Work hard, honey,” I grinned, leaning over the table to peck him once on the lips, offering a cheeky wave on my way out the door.

My palms were sweaty and, despite my repeated attempts to wipe off the nasty residue on my skirt, the condition persisted. Hyperhidrosis, Chan might tell me, nerdy glasses falling down his nose. I grinned at a distant memory, one of the first dates I ever had with Chan. A younger, less confident version of my husband, frantically peeling his suit jacket from his body, complaining about the heat in the restaurant, only to cower moments later when he realized his armpits were totally drenched.

“Mrs. Bang?”

I looked up at the young man bowing in front of me. “Mr. Seo will see you now.”

I nodded, holding my tongue before I let the intern know that he sounded just like a passage from Fifty Shades of Gray. Oh, shit, what if I was about to meet Christian Gray in the flesh? Some sort of young, hot billionaire with the world at his feet, buying up other companies like they meant absolutely nothing.

It was a believable scenario, and I don’t know how I managed to get my feet to work, but I followed the intern with exaggerated steps. “The boss has been looking forward to this,” the intern told me, pausing outside the office door.

“He has?” I wondered, glancing around the grandiose lobby. Did I really make that much of an impression?

“You can go in now,” the intern smiled, politely holding the door for me as I wordlessly walked inside.

Of course, I was expecting something extravagant, considering the layout of the lobby, but I was still deeply impressed by the spacious, but oddly cozy interior. Could you really call this room an office? Considering how massive it was in size. I mean, was it really necessary to basically live in an apartment when you arrived to work every day? Complete with stylish hardwood floors that looked like something out of an edition of House and Home magazine. I’d bet my entire life’s savings that the CEO hired some kind of fancy architect to design the place because those engravings on the mahogany walls were quite difficult to achieve. “It’s nice isn’t it?” a disarmingly familiar voice asked, and I found the dark figure leaning against the desk in the center of the room, sleeves rolled up to show off his impressive arms. “I was surprised to see your application, Y/N.”

Fuck, Christian Grey would have been way better.

“Changbin?”

He met me halfway across the room, now completely visible beneath the low hanging lights, tan skin washed with a comfortable glow. “Shocked?”

“You could say that,” I said, suddenly feeling like I was 18 again in college, lusting after the object of my affections.

“Have a seat,” Changbin offered kindly, extending his arm towards the matching armchairs neatly tucked around the electric fireplace.

“Okay,” I nodded, unable to take my eyes off Seo Changbin as I stumbled over my heels like a complete lovestruck teenager meeting her musician idol for the very first time.

But, holy fuck, Changbin looked good. Why the hell did he not age or turn prematurely gray? I held back a whimper, eyes looking everywhere around the room except at Seo Changbin. How did I not put two and two together when I first got the notification for the Secretary position at Seo Enterprises? I mean, what are the chances that this Seo is my Seo...Or, at least, he used to be my Seo.

“Y/N,” Changbin said, flipping through my file with lazy movements. Where did he get those pants from? They fit him sinfully good, hugging his thighs and if I look close enough, the outline of his...“How are you?”

I startled at the question, drawing my eyes up to meet Changbin’s familiar gaze. “Oh, I’m uh..” I trailed off anxiously, trying to put meaningful words together because he was making the English language harder than it needed to be. “I’ve been alright.”

Changbin smiled and I crossed my legs because that kind of smile could literally drench a girl if he wasn’t careful. “I was really happy to see your name on my list.”

“Were you?” I asked, fingers digging into the cushion of my chair.

“I’m always happy to see a familiar face,” Changbin said. “It’s been a while.”

“College,” I choked out, completely out of mind with anxiety, like the time Minho stole my phone and made me think someone had stolen it, even encouraging me to call the number only for him to hang up every time.

“You’re still beautiful.”

“Changbin...”

“I know,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s all in the past.”

“That’s right,” I said, wondering if now would be an appropriate time to snatch my resume out of Changbin’s veiny hands and flee the premises.

“And you’ve married Bang,” Changbin said, pointing to my wedding band. “Which isn’t surprising.”

“Five years,” I said, trying my best to think about Chan and only Chan despite the literal embodiment of my every erotic high school fantasy sitting right in front of me.

“This would be strictly professional,” Changbin said, holding up my resume. “You were our best applicant, but I thought you should know everything about this place before taking the position. Including me.”

“Is that so?” was all I could think to say in return to his unexpectedly thoughtful comment.

Changbin lowered my resume slowly. “The job is yours, Y/N.”

“I’d still have to talk to Chan first,” I said because there’s no way I could just start working for Changbin without Chan knowing everything about the situation. Unfortunately, I could just about anticipate Chan’s response.

“That’s fine,” Changbin agreed. “You can call us tomorrow.”

I allowed a shaky nod, wondering if Changbin knew how much of an effect he still had on me all these years later.

Chan might be one of the smartest men I know, but he was, at his core, just a man who was quite whipped for his wife. Like all men, he was a sucker for lingerie, which is why I slipped on my best matching set, squeezing myself in the little black dress that I knew he really loved.

The hem barely touched the middle of my thighs.

I was also cooking his favorite meal, the smell filling the kitchen pleasantly as I stood at the stove. My plan was quite simple: dress pretty for Chan and surprise him with his favorite food to soften him up. Maybe then he wouldn’t have a complete meltdown when I broke the news to him about my newest employer.

But I still shivered when I heard the door open. “Y/N!”

“I’m in the kitchen,” I called back to him, attempting several meditative breaths to try and keep myself together.

“Holy shit,” he cursed, freezing in the doorway as he undoubtedly took in the sight of his wife wrapped in a tight black number.

“I’m making dinner,” I said, flashing him an arrogant smile, amused by the way he openly gaped at me while still wearing his oversized doctor’s coat. A result of an excited, freshly employed Chan filling out his form request with sloppy handwriting.

“You look hot,” Chan told me bluntly, eyes glued to my body as he eliminated the space between us with a few quick-paced steps.

“I got the job,” I said, letting out a nervous giggle as I continued to push around the searing bulgogi with a shaky hand. “Consider this a celebration.”

“That’s great, sweetie,” Chan said, standing behind me to wrap his arms around my middle, pressing soft kisses to the back of my neck, roaming hands feeling my body. “I guess the CEO liked you.”

A hellish double entendre. “Yeah, he was really nice.”

“I’m glad it worked out,” Chan said, voice next to my ear. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured to get a job or anything. I’m proud of you no matter what.”

Was it his intention to make me feel guilty? “Channie,” I sighed, turning around in his arms. “I have to tell you something.”

Chan cocked a brow. “What is it?”

“The company I’m working for...”

“Yeah?”

“The CEO is someone we know.”

“Is that it?” Chan chuckled, accent thick as those adorable dimples filled out his smile. “Who is it, babe?”

“He used to go to school with us,” I tried, hoping that maybe Chan could just learn how to read my mind and save me the effort of mustering some kind of courage.

“Minho?” Chan teased.

“We’re not exactly friendly with him,” I said.

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, but I’m not exactly friendly with Minho.”

“You jerk,” I huffed, half-heartedly pushing against his chest. “You really, really don’t like this person.”

“There aren’t many people I really, really don’t like,” Chan said. “Come on, Y/N, just tell me who it is. Are you afraid I’ll be upset with you?”

I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

Chan’s smile vanished in a minute. “Y/N.”

“Seo Enterprises,” I said. “The company name.”

Realization dawned across Chan’s face. “Are you saying...”

“Changbin,” I murmured, looking down at my feet. “He’s my new boss.”

Chan let out a rough exhale because he knew exactly who Seo Changbin was and I’m pretty sure he associated the name with deep hatred. “Are you fucking serious?”

I winced at Chan’s tone because he had quickly shifted from sweet, caring husband to angry, sinister Mr. Bang in the blink of an eye. “Yes?”

“The Seo Changbin,” Chan reiterated. “The guy you fucked for like six months Freshman year?”

“That would be the one,” I said, forcing myself to meet his gaze before immediately regretting the decision.

“Why the hell would you take a job as his Secretary?” Chan demanded, crossing his arms over his chest. Normally, I would admire the sight of Chan’s arms stretching the thin fabric of his t-shirt, but now I was just intimidated.

“Because I really wanted the job,” I said. “And I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“Oh, it’s a huge fucking deal,” Chan said, glaring down at me. “You think I’m okay with the idea of you working for someone you once told me you were, and I quote, definitely gonna marry?”

“But I’m married to you,” I tried, attempting a sugary-sweet tone that usually broke Chan’s resolve.

Except for tonight.

“Yeah,” Chan nodded, “You are, and I told you I would take care of you. I have enough money to support both of us, you don’t need to work at all.”

“Chan, you know I’m not comfortable sitting at home,” I said.

“I get that, Y/N, but Seo Changbin? I could get you a Secretary job at the hospital.”

“Channie, this is a position at Seo Enterprises. One of their biggest assets is New York Publishers! It’s like the perfect opportunity to get my foot in the door.”

“Y/N,” Chan groaned. “I can’t stand the thought of you working for Changbin under any circumstances.”

“I get it, Chan,” I said. “But it’s different than college. I’m married now, and Changbin is nothing more than my boss.”

“Does he really get that?” Chan asked. “I’m putting my foot down, Y/N. I don’t want you working for him, okay? You can call them tomorrow and say you’ve got something better.”

“But Channie!”

“No, Y/N,” Chan growled. “You can look for something else.”

I frowned once I realized Chan wasn’t going to back down. It didn’t matter that I wanted the job or that I had dressed up and cooked for him. For the first time since we met, Chan was refusing to give me what I wanted. “Chan, you really don’t have the right to tell me what to do.”

“I’m your husband,” Chan said, justifying his unfair demands with such patriarchal reasoning.

“Fine,” I muttered darkly, ignoring the way his hand reached out for mine.

“Don’t be this way,” Chan said, following me as I marched to our bedroom, slamming the door closed behind me. “Y/N!” Chan shouted against the door, knocking loudly on the wood. “This is my room too!”

“Not tonight,” I informed him tersely, opening the door only to harshly shove a spare blanket and pillow at his chest. “Goodnight, darling.”

“This is Y/N,” I said into the phone. “I’m calling about-”

“One moment, Mrs. Bang, we can transfer you to Mr. Seo right away.”

“But you don’t understand...”

“Hello?”

“Changbin!” I squealed loudly into the phone, wincing at my shrill tone.

“Y/N,” Changbin said pleasantly, voice as deep and gravelly as I remembered. “Is this the phone call I’ve been waiting for?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, making myself comfortable at the kitchen counter since I was a notorious pacer when it came to difficult conversations. “It depends on what you’re expecting.”

“I’m expecting to hear a confirmation,” Changbin said. “This is a perfect position for someone with your qualifications.”

“I know,” I groaned. “But I’m calling because I can’t take the job.”

“Really?” Changbin asked. “Can I ask why?”

“Chan isn’t comfortable with the idea,” I said.

“Is that so?” Changbin inquired, innocently enough. “I hope it isn’t because of college.”

“T-that’s not entirely why,” I stuttered because Changbin was apparently intuitive now that he owned some big, fancy company.

“I hope not,” Changbin said. “It wouldn’t be fair of Chan to keep you from a potential opportunity because of something like that.”

“It’s just a lot right now,” I said. “I haven’t had a job in a year. My last position was really good, but the company went bankrupt and I was laid off, so I’m just trying to be careful.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about anything like that here, Y/N,” Changbin said. “This is a great opportunity for someone looking for a fresh start.”

Did he read my Facebook bio?

“I’m sure it is, Changbin, but I can’t do something that would make Chan uncomfortable.”

“But he’s not the one taking the position,” Changbin pointed out. “I can assure you, Y/N, you won’t find another position like this.”

“God, you’re good at negotiating.”

“Take the job, Y/N. I promise you won’t regret it.”

I could blame it on my desperation later, but I actually really liked the position. It promised a lot, especially considering the publishing company attached to Seo Enterprises. That would be my ultimate goal, to spend my days reading promising manuscripts while sipping expensive Starbucks coffee.

“I guess I can’t say no.”

“Then I’ll see you on Monday.”

Message to Channie

I took the job. I’m sorry but the opportunity was hard to pass up.

It only took a few seconds for Chan’s contact name to flash across my screen with an incoming call. I muted the sound like a coward, ignoring him completely while I started the ignition to the Corvette. A one-year anniversary present from Chan who was somehow more excited than I was when he first handed me the car key.

I drove to Minho’s apartment because I didn’t want to go home and I really had nowhere else to go. Plus, at least Minho was a reliable friend who really didn’t care if I crashed on his couch while he shoved cheap wine down my throat. In fact, Minho might be glad to see me since he was constantly complaining about his new hours at the shop.

“You look like shit,” Minho commented when he answered the door, standing aside to invite me inside. I shrugged off my coat, tossing it against the wall before slumping down onto the cheap sofa in Minho’s living room. The only piece of furniture he could afford in his ridiculously small New York apartment. “What happened?”

“I took the job with Changbin.”

Minho’s eyes widened in surprise. “You did? I can only assume Chan is lying somewhere on his deathbed.”

“No,” I snorted. “I took the job even though Chan asked me not to.”

“Savage,” Minho exhaled and I rolled my eyes at him.

“It’s a great opportunity!”

“When do you start?” Minho asked, feet propped up in my lap as he made himself more than comfortable next to me.

“Monday morning,” I said, mindlessly taking the remote to scroll through his limited TV channels.

“And Chan is mad?” Minho repeated, glancing at me for confirmation. “Can you really blame him though?”

“Why?” I frowned.

“I mean, Chan’s been in love with you since high school. He used to trail after you all the time, but you only talked about Seo Changbin.”

“You’re not being a good friend right now,” I said, remembering with perfect clarity the image of a sixteen-year-old Chan, hair untamed and clothes mismatched. Chan was a constant presence in my life, even if I preened after another boy who certainly had no intention of remaining faithful.

“Go home to him, Y/N,” Minho said with far more seriousness than I was used to hearing from my still immature best friend. The same Minho who couldn’t find work for an entire year after graduation because he was too busy sleeping with any woman that walked on two legs, living with various girlfriends while slowly draining his savings account.

“Since when are you the voice of reason?” I grumbled.

“Well, we all have to grow up one day.”

I hated the rare occasions when he was right.

The house was eerily silent when I unlocked the door, spotlessly clean just as I had left it which made me feel bad because it meant Chan didn’t even try to eat anything. “You always make me worry,” I muttered, toeing off my shoes as I decided to check the bedroom.

When Chan had first bought the house, he wanted it to look as close as possible to the random design I had pointed out at the local fair when we were Sophomore students. The plaque had deemed it the “house of the future” and I was enamored with the idea of the future back when my whole life was waiting right in front of me. A big dreamer who was already making wedding plans the moment Chan got down on one knee and proposed with his mother’s wedding ring.

“Channie,” I whispered into the darkness, cautiously tiptoeing my way to the side of the bed where Chan was facing away from me, sheets tucked in around his waist to leave his chest exposed. “I’m sorry.”

Chan let out a sigh. “What are you sorry for, Y/N?”

“I hurt you,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “I took the job with Changbin and I didn’t think about how it would affect you.”

“I fucking hate him,” Chan said, tone bitter and laced with venom. “I hate what he did to you Freshman year and I hate that he was the first person you loved.”

“Chan,” I sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I was really young and stupid back then. I should have never slept with Changbin. But he was just a fantasy, even when we were together, and I certainly never really loved him.” I leaned in closer, brushing his hair away from his forehead. “I’ve always loved you first. You mean the world to me and I’m sorry that I went behind your back to work for Changbin. But he’s definitely nothing more than a mistake from a past full of them. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Chan shifted from next to me, rolling onto his back. His eyes were looking at me like I was literally his entire world. “I’ll always worry, sweetie. You drive me insane these days.”

I grinned at the use of his pet name for me, reaching out to run a soothing hand along the defined lines of his stomach. “Don’t worry about me, darling, when you’re the one with a supermodel for a boss.”

“Fuck, we’re both screwed,” Chan said. “Does she drive you mad with jealousy?”

“Of course she does,” I said. “She has bigger tits than me.”

“Well, I like your tits,” Chan insisted. “Don’t even think about bringing up plastic surgery again.”

“It would be to your benefit,” I pointed out.

“And the detriment to my savings account. Plus, I don’t want some old bastard fondling your tits while he pumps silicone in your chest.”

“Of all the things to worry about,” I sighed. “Does this mean we’re okay again?”

“You could probably step on me and I would still thank you for it, sweetie.”

“What if I sit on it instead?” I asked, moving my hand down to squeeze his flaccid cock.

“Makeup sex?” Chan gasped. “You don’t have to sell yourself out like this, babe.”

“Yeah? Well, I want to,” I said while proceeding to straddle his waist, smirking when Chan’s hands instantly moved to my hips. It was almost like a magnet, the reaction automatic after years of marriage. “You’re already hard,” I teased, reaching back to palm him over the sheets.

Chan always slept in boxers which I certainly appreciated because it made the rare nights of our passionate lovemaking even more accessible. Chan lifted my shirt, groaning low when he saw that I was wearing nothing but a pair of satin panties. “This is why I’m already hard.”

“You don’t see me walking around the house in underwear,” I quipped playfully.

“It’s comfortable,” Chan whimpered, moaning when my hand found the smooth velvety head of his cock.

“Something you never did when we were dating,” I said. “I spent weekends with you in the apartment.”

“Wanted to make a good impression,” Chan grumbled, eyes closed as he rolled his hips in time with my careful strokes.

“So you don’t have to impress me anymore,” I said, glancing back at his cock, hot and heavy in my hand. “But I guess you still do.”

Chan moaned even louder at my words, fingers tightening in my wrinkled shirt. “Don’t make me cum yet.”

“Why not, darling?” I asked him cheekily, twisting my wrist just right, watching as a stuttered gasp fell from between his gorgeous pout.

“Wanna cum inside,” he said, biceps straining as he pulled me closer, kissing me with a desperation that only demonstrated just how gone he really was.

“Yeah?” I smirked, tongue tracing the ridges of his full lips. “I guess you deserve it after putting up with my bullshit all day.”

Chan nodded fervently and the sight was oddly endearing. It reminded me of when Chan and I first met in high school, a nerdy sixteen-year-old boy who had just transferred schools all the way from Australia. He had a thick accent, foreign and rich, just like the untamed mass of curls covering his deep brown eyes. Chan wore thick-rimmed glasses and he had a light dusting of freckles like the main character from Freckle Juice, one of my favorite childhood novels. He was nerdy and shy, sitting alone in the cafeteria at lunch and walking between classes with his shoulders hunched like he was afraid one of those horrible jocks would try to steal his bag again.

“Y/N!” he whined loudly, forcing me out of the memory.

“Alright, Channie, you want inside?”

I sat up on my knees to work down my panties, ignoring the way Chan’s fingers tried to interfere, pulling at the fabric like he could possibly make them disappear any faster. I grabbed the hem of his boxer shorts, teasingly pulling them down his thighs before brushing a kiss across the weeping tip of his cock, precum bitter on my tongue. For a moment, I admired his thick erection, remembering how nervous Chan was the very first time we had sex back before we were even old enough to drink alcohol.

I held his cock as I positioned myself over his lap. “I’ll do all the work tonight,” I said, listening to Chan’s sweet moans the entire time I slowly lowered myself onto his cock, enjoying the way he always filled me so deeply.

“Oh yeah, sweetie,” Chan grunted, hips moving messily as he tried to find a rhythm. “I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

“Really?” I asked, swallowing down a moan when Chan hit just right, movements growing more and more confident as I returned every thrust. “I thought I was in charge tonight.”

Chan’s hands gripped my waist firmly, eyes wide open as he focused on where we were connected. “I’m always in charge.”

“Definitely,” I said, bracing my hands against his firm chest for balance because I was weak for this version of Chan. A complete contradiction to the one I first started dating, sweetly doting as he did everything in his power to make me happy. An image of a beautifully innocent Chan looking up from his position between my thighs. “It’s good?”

“So good,” I whispered aloud, peppering kisses across the pale expanse of Chan’s creamy skin, laving my tongue against a sensitive nipple which forced a temporary break from his regular tempo.

“Don’t play dirty, sweetie,” Chan said, giving me no warning before he was pushing me onto my back, hovering over me with his irresistible bedroom eyes. His hands spread my thighs wide, giving himself more room to fuck inside, movements growing faster with every step closer to what was beginning to feel like an intense orgasm. I’m talking about the kind that I could feel between my legs for days after I tried to walk straight again. “Do I need to touch you?”

“Fuck, I think you’re doing just fine,” I said. “Where the hell did this come from?”

“You woke up my competitive side,” Chan said, hitting deep like we were suddenly 20-years-old again sneaking quickies between lectures. Back then, Chan could literally fuck me against a wall, my legs wrapped around his gorgeous hips while he knocked the breath out of my lungs. Thank god, Chan decided that college would be his glory years, working out aggressively in the gym until he had muscles filling out the places where he had previously been soft. But I would always miss his pudgy stomach, even if his ass was now something out of a porn magazine.

“Well fuck,” I moaned. “I’ll have to do this more often.”

“I’d do it all the time if I wasn’t working until 3 in the morning at the hospital,” Chan said.

“Good point, should I come in at lunch then? You can lock us in one of the empty rooms.”

“Oh shit, sweetie, you shouldn’t talk that way,” Chan growled and it was one of the sexiest sounds I had ever heard.

“I’m close,” I warned him, digging my fingers in his scalp as his teeth teased against my collarbone.

“Me too,” he said, breaths uneven as he punctuated his words with a series of harsh ruts that sent my eyes rolling into the back of my skull. His fingers found my clit, thumb pressing down hard enough to trigger one of the best orgasms I had experienced in a long time.

I tightened around his stuttering cock, moaning when I could feel his cum deep inside, warm and wet. “Shit, you’re so good at that.”

Chan pulled out slowly, eyes growing wide at the sight of his cum leaking down my ass. “Left a fucking mess though.”

“We can shower later,” I said, grabbing his arm to encourage him to lie down next to me, burying my face against his chest, scarlet-red from the exertion.

“Was the dick that good?” Chan teased, running his fingers soothingly along my spine.

“Your dick is that good,” I replied. “The genetics are strong.”

“I’ll be sure to tell my parents,” Chan said, giggling as I shot him a warning glare. “I love you, sweetie.”

“Mmm, I love you more.”

1 Week Later

Lee Felix is the spawn of the devil and nobody could convince me otherwise. Because ever since we first met, when Chan invited me over to his house for a project, Felix had decided that I was his number one enemy, deeming me “Medusa” because he was enamored with Greek Mythology. But the unfortunate nickname had stuck throughout the years, even when Felix visited our college between breaks, forcing me to sleep on the couch while he shared the bed with his step-brother.

Recently, Felix had just finished his Master’s program for some kind of fancy Philosophy degree that would probably do him absolutely no good in the real world. But Chan was proud of his baby brother, inviting him to stay with us after graduation until Felix could stand on his own two feet. The decision was met by my instantaneous protest leading to an argument that I inevitably lost because Chan was still using Changbin as a winning point. However, even before my employment with Seo Enterprises, Felix was the cause of at least 95% of our arguments and I was not exaggerating in the slightest.

The sound of the doorbell ringing was suddenly a lot louder than I remember. “Death is here,” I said solemnly, ignoring the way Chan scoffed at my claim. I followed behind him somberly as he opened the door, letting out an excited cheer when he saw Felix waiting on the other side. Felix dropped his bag and practically screamed, which would likely wake up the entire neighborhood, jumping into his brother’s arm as the two embraced right in the middle of my foyer.

“Could you be any louder?” I snarled at the younger Bang.

“Maybe I could, Medusa,” Felix shot back, eyes narrowed as he picked up his bag.

“Come on, Felix,” Chan said, nodding at the kitchen. “I bet you’re hungry.”

Felix nodded, putting on his best smile for his ignorant brother, shoving his bag harshly at my chest as he walked by. “You can take care of that for me, right Medusa?”

“You little bitch,” I muttered, meeting his glare with one of my own.

The only thing worse than going out with Felix was including Han Jisung in the equation. For whatever reason, Jisung and Felix always riled each other up, chugging down alcohol like it was fucking water or something. However, Felix wanted to see Jisung again and Chan never said no to his little brother. This is why I was currently seated next to Chan at a cheesy bar in downtown Harlem, listening to Felix and Jisung try to talk over one another as Chan looked on with fond eyes. The only good part of the night was the fact that even Chan had allowed himself to get a little tipsy which meant he was doing his absolute best to feel me up in public. I always found it amusing, knocking his hand away when his eager fingers started to trail up my skirt.

“Felix,” Jisung whined. “How can you say that?”

“Oi, there’s no way you can put Nickleback and Green Day in the same fucking category.”

I rolled my eyes at the stupid argument, smacking Chan’s hand when he started to finger the waistband of my skirt. “Chan!” Jisung pouted. “Tell him that he’s wrong.”

“Tell the philosophy major that he’s wrong?” Chan asked, accent on full display as he reached out to playfully ruffle Felix’s hair. “You can’t even answer the phone at the receptionist’s desk.”

Felix loved the attention and I hated it when he came over only to occupy Chan’s every waking hour with his never-ending thirst for affection. But I wasn’t going to let him get away with it tonight. I cleared my throat, stretching my arms back behind my head because I knew how good it would make my breasts look in the rather low-cut shirt I had chosen for tonight’s affair. I glanced over at Chan, smiling victoriously when I saw the way his eyes had glued themselves to my chest. Even Han Jisung was looking, which would normally annoy me to no end, but I was putting on my best behavior tonight. “Chan!” Felix shouted, trying to regain his brother’s attention. “Did you hear that I scored the highest honors on my research project?”

And just like that, Chan’s attention was redirected to Satan, eyes glowing with pride. “That’s amazing, Felix!”

“I can tell you all about it,” Felix said arrogantly, tossing me a cocky smile which left me absolutely incensed. “The board was so impressed, they offered to publish my results in the University’s magazine.”

“Are you serious, Felix?” Jisung asked which was an even bigger blow because the only two things occupying Jisung’s thoughts were women and alcohol.

So I decided to push my luck, tugging down my skirt before shifting over in the booth to plant myself directly on Chan’s lap, wrapping my arms around his neck before nuzzling into his warm chest. “Channie,” I cooed while glaring at Felix from the corner of my eye.

“Do you want something, sweetie?” Chan asked, smile blinding as one hand wrapped around my waist, leaving the other to tease the bare skin of my thighs.

I reached for Chan’s beer, shoving the glass at him because nothing made Chan hornier than thighs and alcohol. “Should I come to see you at work tomorrow? Like we talked about before?”

Chan’s eyes lit with recognition and I smirked victoriously when I felt him grow hard in his tight jeans. “I’d really like that.”

And to seal my victory, I leaned forward to kiss my intoxicated husband, ignoring the sloppy way he reciprocated, breath musty with the taste of beer. Felix growled lowly from across the booth and Jisung let out a wolf whistle at our blatant display. But I was on cloud nine, satisfied to have won Chan’s attention because it meant Felix was going to be quite unhappy for the rest of the night.

“Medusa, aren’t you going to make me breakfast?”

I groaned as I glanced over at the alarm clock which informed me that it was only 9:00 AM. “Fuck, Felix, go back to sleep.”

“But I’m hungry,” he whined, reaching across the bed to tug on my arm.

“It’s Saturday,” I hissed, barely clinging to the wonderful promise of more sleep which would do wonders for my hungover state.

“Chan wouldn’t be happy with you,” Felix reminded me. “Should I call him at work?”

“Get out of here you little maggot,” I snapped. “I’ll fix you some damn breakfast.”

“Now!” Felix ordered like he had every right to make demands of me, but I didn’t want Felix to say anything to Chan because that would only lead to another needless argument.

“You’re a fucking menace,” I said, throwing off my bedsheets while briefly mourning the loss of my precious sleep. But I don’t want anyone to ever say that I was a bad wife, especially when I put up with Lee Felix just to make Chan happy.

Felix was already seated at the counter when I finally drug myself out of my bedroom, groggily reaching for a clean pan from the cabinet. “You get eggs and bacon,” I told him. “I’m not a gourmet chef.”

“Whatever,” Felix said, ignoring me completely in exchange for his cell phone. Which Chan was now paying for to help “lessen Felix’s financial burden.”

“Chan,” I remember telling him. “You’ll spoil him if you keep doing things like that. He’ll never want to leave!”

“What’s wrong with that?” Chan had shot back as if the idea of living with his younger brother for the rest of our married life was perfectly acceptable.

“A million things,” I muttered now, cracking one of the eggs against the side of the pan.

“I hear you’re working for Seo Changbin,” Felix abruptly spoke up, and I could practically feel his eyes on me. “He cheated on you, right?”

“It’s really none of your business,” I informed him brusquely, grabbing a spatula while wondering if I could teach Felix a lesson if I hit him a few times.

“My brother isn’t happy,” Felix continued as if my warning meant nothing to him. Probably because it didn’t. “I think it’s a bad idea, but your satisfaction always comes first, right?”

“Why the fuck did Chan tell you this?” I gritted out while aggressively slamming the fridge closed, pack of bacon gripped tightly in my hand.

“He tells me everything,” Felix said smartly. “Because he trusts me.”

“Good for you,” I huffed over my shoulder. “I’m glad you have such a close relationship with your brother.”

“Jealous?” Felix taunted, expression smug when I roughly placed down a glass in front of him.

“Is orange juice, okay?” I asked him in a faux sweet voice.

“It’s fine,” Felix shrugged. “But whatever is most inconvenient for you.”

“What a sweet little boy you are,” I said, pouring him a generous amount. “How long do you plan on staying here?”

“Chan says I can stay for as long as I want,” Felix said, narrowing his eyes. “You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

“Of course not,” I muttered. “Two Bangs are better than one.”

“That’s right,” Felix said brightly, taking a sip from his glass. “Ugh, does this have pulp in it?”

“Drink your fucking orange juice, Felix!”

The invention of video games was a godsend because they could occupy Felix’s attention for hours, leaving me in relative peace as I tried not to let him destroy every last bit of my resolve. I was currently having a bath alone in the sanctity of my bathroom, shoulder-deep in soothing bath salts which I kept well-stocked in the cabinet underneath the sink. The aroma was pleasant, sending me to a place somewhere far away to where Felix’s were strictly prohibited.

For the entirety of the day, Felix had been doing his best to get on my nerves. I cooked him breakfast and lunch, cleaned his disgusting laundry, and even held my tongue when he requested I drive him to the mattress store because the guest bedroom was unsatisfactory. But it had always been like this between us, ever since the day I first met Felix and tried my best to make a good impression. Unfortunately, Felix idolized his older brother, deeming any girl unworthy of his time and efforts, including myself. Of course, above anyone else, Felix thought I was the worst possible choice, reminding me every second that his brother deserved someone smarter, richer, and prettier.

Suddenly, my phone vibrated loudly on the edge of the bathtub and I hesitantly glanced at the screen, half-expecting to see Felix’s name displayed like a caution sign. Surprisingly, it was Chan who had sent me a message to ask where I was, which meant Felix had lied through his teeth and said I’d gone somewhere.

To Channie

Bathroom.

It was only a moment or two later when the door opened and Chan stuck his head inside, offering me a pleasant smile as he locked the door behind him. “You’re home early,” I remarked, vacantly staring up at the ceiling.

“It’s Saturday night,” Chan reminded me. “I thought the three of us could go out to eat.”

I groaned in protest. “What about takeout?”

“You love going out,” Chan said. “I’ll even let you pick the restaurant.”

“I have way too many problems right now,” I said. “I’m avoiding them by staying in the water for as long as I can.”

“Sweetie,” Chan said, taking a step closer. “You should’ve waited for me.”

“Why?” I asked him airily. “You’re one of those problems.”

“Me?” Chan asked, choosing to sit down on the edge of the tub. “What did I do wrong?”

“No arguments tonight,” I said, letting out a deep sigh. “This is the most relaxed I’ve been all day.”

“Aren’t you being overdramatic?” Chan asked, reaching down to flick a trail of water in my direction. “I was in surgery for 6 hours today.”

“Yeah? Well, I’ve dealt with Felix since 9 this morning.”

“Ah,” Chan sighed. “I figured it had something to do with my brother.”

“Just forget it,” I whined. “You know we don’t get along.”

“I do know that,” Chan said. “But I wish you both made a better effort. We’re family after all.”

I shivered at the idea of Felix belonging to any family of mine. “You can keep him on your side, then. I grew up as an only child, look at how much better I turned out for it.”

“You told me you had imaginary friends growing up because you were so lonely,” Chan teased.

“Asshole,” I muttered. “That’s sensitive information that I told you in confidentiality. You should know all about patient-doctor confidentiality. Didn’t you have a whole lecture on it?”

“Y/N,” Chan lightly chastised, reaching for a towel on the rack next to the counter. “Get dressed, we’re leaving in an hour.”

“You’ve condemned me to death,” I complained, watching through lidded eyes as he stretched out his arms.

“I’m serious, Y/N, at least try to get along for my sake.”

“That’s all I ever do,” I muttered to his retreating form.

Hwang Hyunjin is a willing accomplice to the devil himself who never misses an opportunity to throw out some lascivious comments about my appearance. He was Felix’s best friend and partner in crime, sharing his goal of making my life as miserable as possible. He was also coming out to eat with us tonight and no matter how much I whined to Chan, he remained adamant that Felix should spend some time with his friends. “He’s only young once,” Chan told me, ignoring the way I glared at him with every ounce of hostility that I could muster.

“Did you paint those pants on, Y/N?” Hyunjin asked the minute he sat down in the backseat next to Felix.

“I did, actually, thanks for the unnecessary observation,” I told him shortly, still focused on the staring contest I was having with Felix in the rearview mirror.

“Don’t mind her, she’s probably on her period,” Felix said and I took in a deep breath because I was very close to turning around in my seat to choke the life out of Felix’s pencil neck.

“How have you been, Hyunjin?” Chan asked, one hand on the steering wheel as he calmly navigated us through the permanent traffic of New York.

“I applied for a job with Amazon,” Hyunjin replied. “I don’t wanna brag, but I definitely nailed the interview.”

“Yeah right,” I muttered under my breath. Hyunjin had the worst people skills in the history of mankind. He was almost as incompetent as Han Jisung, but ten times worse because of his sarcastic attitude.

“You’ll get me Amazon Prime for free, right bro?” Felix giggled and I resisted the urge to mock the sound.

“I’m proud of you, Hyunjin,” Chan said. “I know you worked hard.”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Hyunjin said. “But the chick who interviewed me was really hot and I think I appropriately swept her off her feet.”

“Big tits?” Felix asked because that’s all those stupid boys cared about.

“Of course,” Hyunjin said. “But I’m still waiting for you, Y/N, whenever you’re ready.”

Felix scoffed. “You could do better than Medusa.”

“How about some music?” I snapped loudly, reaching down for the radio knob to block out the sounds of Felix and Hyunjin’s voices.

Monday mornings were the worst thing to ever happen to mankind next to Lee Felix. I was sipping at my morning coffee, cold now because Felix had spent way too much time ordering me around the kitchen before I left home. But it was better than nothing and I desperately needed caffeine to get through the day. “Morning, Y/N,” Changbin greeted me smoothly, suit well-pressed and fitted to hug his arms and thighs just right.

“Sure,” I said in reply, trudging to my chair in slow motion.

“Are you always this lively in the mornings?” Changbin remarked, leaning against my desk as he looked through his mail.

“Just on Mondays,” I said, booting up my computer so that I could answer the dozens of emails likely waiting for me, most of which would come from annoying sponsors who wanted Changbin to be on their dumb podcast.

“Well, you still look gorgeous,” Changbin said.

My cheeks flushed at his comment. “You still need to call Mr. Kim back, he’s left another voicemail.”

“Just one call?” Changbin smirked, eyes dancing dangerously. “Have you been scaring everyone off, Y/N?”

“I did just as you asked, sir.”

“You don’t have to call me sir,” Changbin chuckled, carefully engrossed in his cell phone now as he graciously returned to his own office.

I shivered as I glanced at my computer screen. Changbin was still as notoriously flirtatious as he had been when we were younger. In fact, it might be worse now that he had finally grown into his sharper features which made him look ridiculously attractive. “I love Chan, I love Chan,” I quietly repeated to myself, even as a distant memory suddenly forced itself back into consciousness.

An 18-year-old Seo Changbin walking inside my lecture hall wearing a dark button-up tucked into the tightest pair of skinny jeans he probably owned. Every eye in that lecture room had suddenly turned to him because he was an irresistible force, impossible to ignore. “Y/N?”

Be cool Y/N, I softly chastised myself as I offered him a friendly smile. “Hi, Changbin.”

It was purely coincidental that Changbin had ended up at the same University as me, but that didn’t stop my fragile teenage heart from declaring it as something akin to fate. “It’s been a while,” Changbin said, pulling out the chair next to mine.

I swallowed hard because my mouth was as dry as a desert. “I didn’t know you were enrolled here.”

“It was my first pick,” Changbin said. “My father is an alumnus.”

“Really?” I asked, ignoring the arrival of the professor in exchange for mapping out every single one of Changbin’s gorgeous features.

“This class is just for gen ed,” Changbin said, pushing a hand through his neatly styled black hair.

“Oh, same for me,” I nodded. “I heard it was pretty easy.”

“Is that right?” Changbin asked while flashing me an award-winning smile. Roll out the red carpets because this boy was cool enough to be in an action film co-starring Tom Holland and Ancel Elgort.

But what were we talking about? “I’m majoring in English.”

“Political Science,” Changbin returned. “And Business.”

I deflated a little because, in comparison to my lousy arts degree, Changbin seemed like a certified genius. He would be educated in the art of entrepreneurship and big money while I struggled to comprehend the meaning of Great Expectations. “Have you met anyone else from high school?”

“Not yet,” Changbin said. “What about you?”

“Well, Bang Chan’s enrolled here too...” I started, only to trail off when I realized that Changbin probably had no idea who Chan was since he never paid attention to him in high school. Actually, Changbin would have been more likely to join the football jocks who liked to steal Chan’s stuff only to tie his underwear to the flagpole outside the gym.

“The nerdy Australian kid?” Changbin chuckled. “That sucks.”

“Oh,” was all I could manage since Changbin obviously didn’t know that Chan and I were friends.

“You don’t hang out with him, do you?” Changbin asked, peering at me closely like I was seconds away from losing the honor of his company.

“We have lunch sometimes,” I said, which was only partially true since I did like to meet up with Chan in the dining hall around 2:00 because it was never crowded. But Changbin didn’t need to know that I had spent the night in Chan’s apartment listening to him record one of his mixtapes because Chan had a newfound interest in music.

“You could do better,” Changbin sighed. “Hang out with me instead. I’ll treat you to the nicest fast food joint on campus.”

My heart was racing, palms clammy as I nodded my head rapidly. “Lunch?”

“Whatever you want, love,” Changbin said, close proximity knocking every rational thought clean out of my head.

It was like my best fantasy coming to life right before my very eyes, and after our lecture ended I asked Changbin to wait for me while I made a phone call to Chan. “Y/N!” came his cheerful voice from the other end. “Guess who got to dissect a liver today?”

I wrinkled my nose at the nasty image. Chan was studying to enter the medical program which meant a lot of his daily life centered around the human body and all sorts of things that could go wrong with it. “Chan,” I whined. “You’re talking to someone who can’t stand the sight of blood.”

“I know,” Chan sniggered. “Does this mean you’re not gonna want to eat lunch with me today? You know I’ll pay, of course, I got a raise at the cafe.”

“Well,” I started, desperately searching for the right words. “I actually have to meet with my professor for this essay I’ve been having trouble with.”

“No problem,” Chan said. “I’ll bring you takeout for dinner. Doesn’t your roommate have practice tonight?”

I glanced back at Changbin with a guilty conscience. Why did Chan have to be so sweet all the time? “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“No liver talk, I promise,” Chan giggled and I hung up the phone before he could make me feel even worse than I already did.

“You want to get some lunch?” Changbin asked with his hands dug inside his pockets as he stood in front of my desk.

“Like, with me?” I asked warily because I wasn’t sure where the line stood on professionalism when it involves eating with an ex-boyfriend.

“Who else?” Changbin said. “I figured we could use a break from the phone calls.”

“I don’t know...” I answered hesitantly because Chan would probably lose his shit if he discovered I went out anywhere with Changbin.

“It’s not a big deal, Y/N,” Changbin said. “My job is to make sure my employees are well taken care of.”

“I guess,” I sighed, reaching down for my purse on the floor. “One lunch together won’t hurt anything.”

But Changbin seemed awfully smug, patiently waiting for me to gather my belongings, stuffing my phone with an unanswered text from Chan inside my side pocket. It’s almost like the universe was conspiring against me, doing its very best to try and force me into the worst situations possible. Here’s an irrational thought: what if Chan happened to decide to go out for lunch today? He might find me with Changbin and I couldn’t think of a worse scenario. Of course, I suppose it doesn’t necessarily have to be Chan who finds us. For example, if his younger step-brother was to suddenly wander in the building at this very moment...

“Medusa!”

Curse you, universe!

“Felix?”

“I brought us lunch!” Felix chirped brightly, holding up a picnic basket as he waltzed right up to my desk with far more confidence than necessary.

I blinked my eyes rapidly, unable to process the idea that Felix was standing in the middle of the company’s lobby. “Is it poisoned?” I asked, trying not to alert him to any possible wrongdoing.

Felix ignored me, turning around to face Changbin with a critical gaze. “Seo? Is that you?”

“Felix,” Changbin acknowledged, frowning as if he was the last person on earth he wanted to see, and I could share the sentiment.

“Fuck,” Felix cursed, taking a step back. “You still look really young. I was surprised when Y/N told me you were her new boss.”

“I didn’t tell you that,” I said, opening the flaps of the basket only to let out a disgruntled sigh when I realized he had only brought a bag of chips and a tray of cookies.

“And what are you doing these days?” Changbin asked.

“Freelance work, mostly,” Felix replied as if he really needed to lie to Changbin about his lack of a suitable occupation.

“I forgot what you majored in,” Changbin said. “It was hard to keep up since you changed your concentration like a dozen times.”

I couldn’t hold back my laugh, even when Felix sneered in my direction. “Philosophy.”

“Interesting,” Changbin said, nodding his head. “I’m actually surprised to hear that. You never settled on anything.”

Seo Changbin needed to be careful because his charm points were dramatically increasing the more he mocked my husband’s step-brother. “I actually just finished my Masters.”

“Really?” Changbin said. “This coming from the same boy who used to party with Hwang Hyunjin at all the Fraternities, even if they were on a different campus.”

“It was just Freshman year,” Felix defended himself.

“Well,” Changbin started, “I’m glad to hear about your graduation. Y/N and I were actually just about to head out to lunch.”

I winced at his words, withering under Felix’s accusing watch. “Is that so?”

Changbin carefully studied the two of us. “I’ll be waiting in my car, Y/N.”

I grabbed my bag while pushing the picnic basket back in Felix’s direction. “I swear to god if you tell Chan about this, I’ll castrate you in your sleep.”

“We’ll see about that,” Felix growled, and that was the moment I realized that I was treading very dangerous waters.

Changbin drove us to a charming restaurant about two blocks away from the main company building. He pulled right up to the sidewalk, handing his keys to the waiting carhop as if he had done this about a thousand times. But I guess that was pretty likely considering just how well-off he was ten years later. “Impressive,” I remarked to him, reluctantly accepting his outstretched hand as he helped me out of his car.

“Yeah?” Changbin said, offering me a wink. “Maybe I’m trying to impress you.”

“You’re a dangerous man, Seo Changbin,” I told him, bowing slightly to the waiting doorman who kindly ushered us inside.

This was why the pretty girls always lusted after Changbin. When we were both still in high school, Changbin epitomized the phrase #BoyfriendGoals because he was super attractive, incredibly smart, and athletic enough to earn himself a shining record after an impressive baseball season. And I was just as mindless as the rest of the zombies chasing him down in the parking lot at school or squealing his name in the hallways between classes.

“I eat here all the time,” Changbin assured me, flashing the hostess a dazzling smile while handing her his card.

“Right this way, Mr. Seo,” the hostess curtsied, ignoring the long line of waiting patrons who apparently didn’t matter as much as my new boss as she led us to a private table. “Your waitress will be with you shortly.”

“Thank you,” I said politely, eyes wide as I took in the gorgeous chandelier dropping from the high-domed ceiling.

“Close your mouth, Y/N,” Changbin said. “You act like you’ve never been somewhere like this before.”

“Not exactly,” I said because the nicest place Chan had ever taken me was an Olive Garden and that had ended poorly after Chan accidentally knocked his shoulder against a poor server on his way back to the table causing an avalanche of salad and breadsticks.

“Bang should be taking you to places like this all the time,” Changbin commented, perhaps a casual observation to anyone else.

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “Chan and I prefer to keep things low-key.”

“Should I have taken you to Applebees instead?”

“How funny.”

“I’m kidding, Y/N,” Changbin said, reaching down to adjust the buttons on his coat sleeve. “You’ve changed a lot since college.”

“Since we dated you mean?” I asked with an arched brow.

“Well,” Changbin started, “if you want to think of it like that.”

“Hmmm,” I briefly meditated, studying Changbin’s expression carefully. “How else should I think about it.”

Changbin tsked, raising a hand to signal for a nearby waiter. “I don’t mean to suggest anything.”

The waiter approached our table with purposed steps. “How may I help you, sir?”

“A wine menu?” Changbin asked, nodding generously when the waiter returned with his requested selection.

“You make a beautiful couple,” the waiter gushed while he pulled out a thick leather wallet, flipping to a fresh page.

“Oh! We’re not-”

“-A bottle of pinot noir, please,” Changbin said, returning the menu without bothering to correct the waiter’s observation.

“Right away, sir,” the waiter agreed.

I held my tongue until he was further away, bothering an older couple who were probably complaining about something to do with their food. “Changbin,” I warned him. “You should be careful.”

“It was a harmless mistake,” Changbin said. “How can I possibly come between you and Bang?”

I worried my bottom lip between my teeth because it sounded less like a dismissal and more like a challenge.

The sun was already setting by the time I returned home thanks to one of Changbin’s business partners who refused to leave the office building until they had a chance to speak to him. I was low on patience, tired from an exhausting day of dealing with telemarketers insisting our company needed the latest software for our clientele. There was only a limited number of times I could tell somebody to fuck off before inevitably shouting into the other end that I was in no way interested in whatever useless product they were trying to shove down my throat, complete with some kind of scammy discount and an opportunity to be represented on their website.

To make matters worse, my feet were blistered from wearing heels all day and my shoulders ached from slouching over my computer to answer emails and monitor the progress of Changbin’s latest project. My only saving grace was the message Chan had sent me earlier telling me that he had already clocked out at work, which meant I could probably guilt him into giving me one of his trademarked messages. I mean, all I wanted to do was curl up next to Chan in bed and sleep for the rest of the day.

But it looked like my desires would have to wait because as soon as I unlocked the door to the house, I could immediately sense that something was wrong. Taking a deep breath, I cautiously walked into the living room to find Chan and Felix busy with some kind of video game on our HD TV, volume high until I walked in the room. Chan waited until I called his name, reaching for the remote to mute the TV before tossing his controller onto the coffee table. From across the room, Felix’s eyes were alight with mischief.

“How was work today?” Chan asked with a tone that I only ever heard when my husband was feeling particularly pissed off about something, and I had a sneaking suspicion it involved me in some capacity.

“It was fine,” I said, deciding to play it safe while I kept my complaints to myself.

Felix smirked in my direction, whistling to himself as he reached for his game controller. “Felix told me something interesting today.”

“Oh did he?” I asked, wondering just how much pain Felix could tolerate if I marched over to him right now and hit him with an umbrella.

“He said he tried to have lunch with you.”

“I was busy.”

“With Seo Changbin?”

Felix was definitely going to die tonight. That little snitch deserved every ounce of punishment I was starting to formulate inside my head. “He invited me out instead.”

“I got that,” Chan snapped and I knew my husband was in a foul mood. I’m talking about the kind of mood that usually sent me scampering for the safety of the bunkers. Like the time some drunk asshole rear-ended Chan’s precious convertible while we were sitting in downtown traffic. Or the time when we were Freshmen in college and Chan confronted Changbin after finding out that he had been cheating on me.

But this time the problem was me which meant I couldn’t just hide from Chan and wait for things to go back to normal. “Honey,” I attempted to reassure him. “It was just lunch.”

“Yeah? But that doesn’t seem like keeping things strictly professional to me, Y/N.”

“He’s my boss now, I can’t just tell him no.”

“Actually, you can,” Chan disagreed, now refusing to look at me. “How would you like it if I ate with my new superintendent?”

“Depends on if she offered to pay or not.”

“Y/N.”

“Chan,” I pouted. “I’m really sorry! He just surprised me.”

“It makes me wonder what else you might be doing with him,” Chan snarked.

Meanwhile, Felix calmly continued to play his video game while wearing the biggest shit-eating grin. “Are you accusing me of having an affair?”

“Why not?” Chan shrugged. “Since we’re keeping secrets from each other.”

“It was just one lunch,” I shouted. “He’s never done anything like this before. Most of the time I’m alone in the lobby taking his stupid phone calls.”

“And that’s all I should ever hear about,” Chan growled.

“You’re making this into a bigger deal than it needs to be,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes before remembering just how much Chan hated it when I did that to him.

“Y/N,” Chan addressed me sternly, deciding to abandon his seat on the couch to crowd me in the foyer. “If this was anyone else, I wouldn’t make it into a bigger deal, but this is someone you used to fuck while running around campus bragging about it to everyone who would listen...which was usually me!”

“He doesn’t mean anything to me,” I said. “I already told you that!”

“You’ve said a lot of things recently,” Chan said. “I’m not sure what to believe anymore.”

“Yeah? Well, it’s your brother’s fault since he’s always looking to cause a fight between us,” I said, glaring at Felix while he continued to play the part of the perfect little angel that Chan always considered him.

“Don’t drag Felix into this, he has nothing to do with anything!”

“Oh, don’t be stupid, Chan,” I huffed. “We fight more about Felix than we do about Changbin.”

“Stupid?!”

Oh, Jesus, Y/N, when are you going to learn to watch your big mouth? “Channie, I’m tired of fighting all the time. I feel like we’re always fighting.”

“Yeah? Well, you give me a lot of reasons to stay mad at you.”

“For fuck’s sake,” I groaned. “We never fought this much when we were dating.”

“Is that so? You think our marriage is the problem?”

I froze at his implications. At this point, Felix might as well drag out a bucket of popcorn because this was probably the most interesting drama he had watched all year. “Chan, you can’t honestly believe that.”

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Chan said, shaking his head. “But maybe I’ll give you some time to think about it.”

“Chan!” I whined, fighting back tears as I watched him turn his back on me. For the first time since we had met, Chan was leaving an argument unresolved, choosing to lock himself away in our bedroom while I struggled to keep myself together in the middle of our foyer.

“Goodbye, Y/N,” Felix whispered into the silent room, waving his fingers at me because he had gotten exactly what he wanted.

Felix’s birthday often turned into a multiple-day affair because he always wanted the best that money could buy. Since Chan and I still weren’t speaking to one another, Chan was taking the brunt of party preparations which meant Felix was practically over the moon with excitement. And why shouldn’t he be? He hit the metaphorical jackpot because he somehow got me in the doghouse while he soaked up all of Chan’s attention.

“Y/N,” Felix whined. “My toast is burnt!”

“Sorry,” I murmured softly, taking his plate even though the bread looked perfectly fine. Meanwhile, Chan chose not to say a word, heavily engrossed in his laptop and doing his absolute best to pretend I was invisible.

“What about this, Felix?” he asked, tilting his laptop screen so that his brother could see whatever it was that probably cost hundreds of dollars. On the other hand, I couldn’t even find the courage to ask Chan for his credit card so that I could replace the broken stool at our counter.

“That’s perfect, Channie!” Felix grinned, hanging off his brother’s shoulder like the little pest he was.

Our Amazon shopping cart was steadily filling with Felix’s party supplies. But I guess it was just Chan’s account now since he had changed the password without telling me. I tried to order a new curtain for the bathroom, only to repeatedly watch the warning screen pop-up with every refresh of the page. “Who do you want at your party?” Chan asked Felix.

“Hyunjin, Jisung...” Felix started, listing out each name while I winced every time because our house would probably end up completely trashed at this rate.

“Whatever you want,” Chan said, apparently forgetting the last time Jisung came over only to break one of my grandmother’s expensive vases. Since it was my stuff, he probably didn’t care. “I have to leave soon,” Chan said, wordlessly clicking on the ‘place your order ’ button before logging off.

“Will you be gone all day again?” Felix pouted, jutting out his bottom lip and offering his very best puppy dog eyes.

23-years-old my ass.

“I’ll do my best,” Chan promised his brother. “Do you need anything while I’m out.”

“More chocolate cereal?”

10-years-old more likely.

“I’ll see you tonight,” Chan cooed to Felix, ruffling his hair before snatching his coat from my outstretched hand, refusing to even acknowledge my existence.

Felix waited until Chan was gone to lean in across the counter. “You two are so cute, Medusa.”

“I fucking hate you,” I said, aggressively attacking the grease stain on the stainless steel pot I was currently washing.

“Whatever,” Felix shrugged. “Will you ask Minho to come to my birthday party?”

“There’s not a fucking chance in hell that I’m asking him,” I snapped.

“Why?” Felix posed the question as if he felt absolutely no shame. “I like Minho and I want him to be there.”

“Fuck off,” I retorted, drying my hands against the rough texture of the dishtowel.

Felix sniffled, reaching for his phone and holding it up to his ear. “Channie? Yeah, Y/N was being really mean to me-”

“-Jesus, fine, I’ll ask him,” I quickly interrupted the little Devil. “How old are you turning again?”

“24!” Felix grinned.

“Then act like it,” I muttered while dialing Minho’s number.

There were only two rings before he answered. “It’s too early on Saturday for this bullshit, Y/N,” came Minho’s pleasant voice from the other end.

“You sleep too much anyway,” I returned. “I have something to ask you.”

“It better be pretty fucking important.”

“Will you come to Felix’s stupid birthday party this Friday?” I asked him, ignoring Felix’s bright smile as he tried to listen in on our conversation.

“Did you buy booze?”

“I’m sure Chan will buy the little bastard all the booze he wants,” I said, pushing Felix out of the way.

“What time?” Minho asked. “I’m a very busy man, Y/N.”

“The hell you are,” I snorted. “9:00 PM. Don’t be late! I’ll be the pathetic piece of trash sitting on the couch alone.”

“It’s about time you learn, Y/N,” Felix remarked, giggling when I threw the dishtowel at him.

“Still in trouble with hubby?” Minho asked. “I hear you have to stay separated for a year before the courts grant divorces these days.”

“You’re an asshole,” I said. “Should I put you down on the guest list?”

“Of course,” Minho said. “Underlined because I’m a VIP”

I hung up on him before he could dig his grave any deeper.

“Don’t burn that,” Felix scolded me, hovering by my side to play the part of Gordon Ramsay while I sweated my ass off to cook everything on his stupid party menu.

“It’s not burnt,” I grumbled.

“I hope you’re not wearing that to my party,” Felix said, casting a critical eye over my outfit.

I reached down to adjust the waistband of my skirt. “What’s wrong with it?”

“This is a classy party, Y/N, and you look like a hooker.”

“Go help your brother or something,” I said, doing my best to be nice since it was Felix’s birthday. I could manage some form of kindness even if he didn’t deserve it.

“Chan’s fine,” Felix waved me off even though I was certain I saw Chan struggling to hang up lights on the balcony just moments ago when I went to change my clothes.

I glanced at the clock above the stove. “Your fellow party animals will be here soon.”

“You’re not cool enough for those references,” Felix told me as he straightened his tie.

“I wasn’t trying to be,” I said, wiping my forehead with a nearby towel. My makeup was probably smeared but I didn’t care. Who was I hoping to impress anyway? The only person I dressed up for was Chan and he could care less about my appearance.

And it was only a few minutes later when the doorbell started to ring. I took a deep breath to try and reassure myself that I could make it through tonight without another Advil. “Someone’s here!” Felix squeaked, knocking his shoulder against mine in his haste to answer the door.

“No matter who it is, I’ll still be in hell,” I muttered, closing my eyes when I recognized Hyunjin’s voice mixing with Felix’s.

“Y/N!” Hyunjin sang, poking his head in the kitchen as if he owned the place. “There you are! Looking all pretty for us.”

“That was the goal,” I half-heartedly quipped back, turning off the stove once I declared Felix’s stupid Tteok-bokki cooked enough.

“Your legs look good,” Hyunjin said, abruptly leaning in closer. “Are you even wearing anything under that skirt?”

“Hyunjin!” Felix shouted his friend’s name from the living room. “Come check out the decorations.”

Hyujin blew a kiss in my direction, tossing me a poor excuse for a wink. “Bye, Y/N!”

Maybe one more Advil wouldn’t hurt.

The party was in full swing by the time Minho finally arrived, greeting Felix with some kind of cheesy handshake. It was too late for me and I had already resigned myself to the futon of isolation in the living room, mourning the loss of one of my good dishes thanks to Han Jisung deciding to request something fancier than our regular set. “Sorry, Y/N,” Jisung had apologized. “I’m sure you can easily replace it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure my dead grandmother has another lying around somewhere,” I snarled in his direction, ignoring his wide-eyed look of disbelief as I searched for the broom.

Minho eventually finished his conversation with Felix, offering me a sympathetic look while occupying the last remaining chair. “Y/N?”

“Oh, I’m doing just fine,” I told him.

“You look miserable,” Minho informed me, throwing up his feet on my glass coffee table even though I had told him countless times before to keep his dirty socks on the floor.

“Chan hates me,” I said. “Felix is happy.”

“Ah,” Minho nodded. “Trouble in paradise?”

“It’s all Felix’s fault,” I sniped. “He found out I went to lunch with Changbin and told Chan because he knew it would lead to an argument.”

“He still doesn’t like you?” Minho snorted as if the idea were amusing.

“Felix has hated me since the beginning of time. He was brought to this Earth to cause me misery.”

“I’m sure that’s an exaggeration,” Minho said. “Where is Chan, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “If he wasn’t with Felix, then you might want to check the balcony. I think I saw him sneaking the Advil bottle out there earlier.”

Minho snickered. “You don’t even realize it, but you two are grossly similar. I’m sure Chan would have preferred a quiet dinner out somewhere.”

“Well, Felix always gets what he wants,” I said. “It’s been this way since high school.”

Minho considered me for a moment. “In his defense, Chan has always been Felix’s best friend. They’ve been attached at the hip since they were kids, but then you came into the picture. Suddenly, Chan isn’t as interested in spending all his time with Felix any more.”

“Are you saying I need to find Felix a girlfriend?”

“Y/N,” Minho said softly. “I’m just saying, maybe you need to think about things from Felix’s perspective for once. You were an only child, so you can’t understand what it means to share a close relationship with a brother.”

“Hmm, well you’re like a brother to me,” I teased him.

“Ugh,” Minho gagged. “You’ve had my dick in your mouth before, Y/N, please never say that again.”

“I was trying to be sweet,” I said. “But you ruined it.”

“Did I?” Minho smirked, glancing up at something behind me. “Are you having a good time, Felix?”

“We’re out of beer,” Felix interrupted, face suddenly mere inches from mine.

“You shouldn’t drink like a fish.”

“Medusa,” Felix tried again, holding out a ring of car keys. “Make yourself useful and buy us some more beer.”

I rolled my eyes but acquiesced. “Whatever you want, your majesty.”

I hated winter in New York City because the sidewalks were icy all the time and I was constantly in danger of rolling my ankle. Nevertheless, I tolerated the snow and wind by trading my heels for rain boots and wrapping my body in the thickest coat I owned. Normally, I might consider walking to the convenience store, but tonight I knew my fingers would be nothing but frozen icicles if I attempted that perilous journey.

Thankfully, the traffic was fairly light this late at night which allowed a relatively quick drive to the store, parking my corvette at the sidewalk. I walked inside with a muffled greeting to the store attendant, searching down the aisle to where the beer was stocked in the freezers. “He didn’t even tell me what he wanted,” I scoffed, deciding on the expensive Corona from the bottom shelf since Felix always liked things more when they cost a lot of money.

“Having a party?” the store attendant joked, accepting my debit card after ringing up the cases.

“Something like that,” I said, wondering if that was always his assumption if someone bought more than one bottle of the nasty smelling beverage.

Meanwhile, it had started snowing again when I walked back outside, popping the trunk to store the beer until I finally returned home. I switched on the ignition and turned on the heat to its fullest setting before sitting back in my seat to wrap my arms around myself, fighting off a series of chills. The action reminded me of Junior Year when Chan and I used to make late-night trips to the gas station near his apartment complex. We’d buy all sorts of unnecessary snacks, driving back together because we had planned a movie marathon of Harry Potter. Chan always complained about the films I liked, but he watched them anyway because he knew I enjoyed them.

I came to a stop at a red light, frowning when I noticed that nobody was coming in either direction. “Change already,” I ordered the traffic light as if it could possibly accommodate my request.

“I’ll teach you patience, Y/N,” Chan once told me after we waited nearly an hour in a heavy downpour outside the comic book shop because he just had to have some kind of rare edition figurine.

The traffic light eventually turned green and I rolled out into the intersection, never noticing the reckless SUV until mere seconds before it crashed into the side of my car.

I had the worst luck in the world when it came to relationships. First, there was my tired rendezvous with Minho in high school, blowing my best friend in the bathroom because he’d always fuck me with his fingers afterward. Then, there was that slimy bastard Seo Changbin who I willingly gave my virginity to, thinking he was the love of my life. That was before I found out he was cheating on me with some sleazy cheerleader thanks to a couple of photos surfacing on Facebook. My heart was instantly broken, pride in shambles as I spent an entire week hiding out in my dormitory ignoring all phone calls and text messages as I cried over a boy who never deserved my attention in the first place.

I plucked a few strands of grass from the ground next to my feet, savoring the first taste of sunlight I had allowed myself since that unfortunate discovery. Who the hell did Seo Changbin think he was anyway? Playing with my heart like that as if it meant absolutely nothing to him.

At least I wasn’t sad anymore, having spent enough time crying over the destructive boy. Now, all I could think about was smacking that stupid smug grin off his face while thoroughly purging my built-up frustrations...“Y/N?”

I turned around quickly at the sound of Chan’s voice, rising to my feet to brush the loose grass and dirt from my jeans. “Channie,” I said, nervously wringing my hands in front of me. Chan was probably mad at me since I had been ignoring him all week.

“Are you okay?” he asked instead, tone surprisingly gentle as he stopped in front of me.

“Not really,” I told him honestly.

“I didn’t think so,” Chan said, features hardening. “I’ll beat the shit out of Seo for you.”

I shook my head. “That won’t do any good.”

“But if it makes you feel better,” Chan said, reaching out to delicately swipe his thumb under my eyes. “You aren’t sleeping.”

It was more of a statement rather than a question, but I still felt the need to reassure him. “I promise that I’m okay.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” Chan said, offering me a kind smile. “I can tell, you know?”

“Yeah you’re good at that,” I groused.

“I’m pretty good at a lot of things when it comes to you,” Chan admitted, eyes holding a pure kind of affection as they appraised me.

“I’m glad I have you,” I said, letting out a sigh as I allowed my head to rest against the center of his chest. “You don’t think I’m stupid for trying things out with Changbin?”

“You’ve always liked him,” Chan said with a bitter tone that sounded more like a jealous lover rather than a friend.

I chose not to say anything. “I hope the two of them make each other miserable.”

Chan chuckled. “Is this your form of revenge?”

“I don’t think it’ll work out in my favor,” I said, pressing myself even closer to Chan, pausing when my hand drug across his stomach. “Holy shit, Channie, you weren’t kidding about the gym.”

“Did you not believe me?”

“Who are you trying to impress?” I grinned, propping my chin against his sternum to make it easier to look into his eyes.

“It’s always been the same person,” Chan said vaguely, dimples on display as he considered me. “I hope Seo didn’t destroy your faith in relationships.”

“It wouldn’t be entirely his fault,” I sighed. “All my relationships have been complete failures.

“Y/N,” Chan whispered, brushing a light kiss across my forehead. “Maybe it’s because you’ve never tried the right guy.”

The memory was laced with something warm, an association that stood in stark contradiction to my current condition, slowly opening my eyes to a pulsing room, somehow much too bright for my pupils to adjust. Was I alive? I wondered because I couldn’t really feel anything which was certainly disarming. But then there was a familiar smell, rancid and burning, and it made me feel like I was definitely not in any sort of happy afterlife. There was also the problem of the blurry figure slowly coming into focus next to me, fiddling with an array of wires twisting together with the sounds of a machine distantly clicking in the background. I watched through hooded eyes as the now perceivable person in question handled an impressively large needle, pinching my skin painfully at the juncture of my elbow.

“Han Jisung,” I began, startling him from where he was checking the IV. “Just put a fucking needle into my arm. What hellish realm have I descended into?”

“Y/N!” Jisung squealed loudly, leaning down to press a sloppy kiss against my forehead.

“What the hell was that for?”

“For not dying,” Jisung sighed in relief. “When you came in, there was nothing but blood and glass everywhere!... Oh, and Chan may or may not have a fine against him for beating the living shit out of the asshole that hit you.”

“Why are you so loud?” I groaned, palming my forehead because the room was still swimming into focus. “What happened?”

“You probably don’t remember,” Jisung said. “It was a pretty bad concussion, but you were in a car accident.”

“I was?” I questioned, struggling to recall anything past a few minutes ago when I first realized that incompetent Han Jisung was sticking pointy objects into my veins.

“Chan was so upset,” Jisung said. “He wanted to do the surgery, but the superintendent wouldn’t let him.”

“Surgery?” I repeated. “I had surgery?”

“Cuz’ of your ribs,” Jisung said quietly as if finally realizing that he probably shouldn’t be saying all this to me at once, especially if the persistent beeping of the heart monitor was something to be concerned about.

“What’s wrong with my ribs?” I asked, somewhat panicking as I felt down my chest, noticing the thick bandage wrapped around my upper body.

“Chill, Y/N,” Jisung placated, reaching around me to adjust the monitor. “Now I can’t get an accurate reading!”

“So sorry to inconvenience you,” I said with a hoarse voice, reaching up to quickly wrap my hand around my throat. “Is there something wrong with my voice?”

“Well, you’ve been out for three days so...”

“Three days!”

Now I was definitely panicking, full-on hysteria as the heart monitor loudly detected the irregular contraction of the muscle thundering aggressively against my chest. It was enough to alert the doctor on duty, walking into my room to check on his patient, scolding Jisung harshly as he filled a syringe with a clear liquid. “Don’t worry, Y/N,” he said kindly, injecting the fluid into my IV. “Just relax.”

My eyelids fluttered closed, overwhelmed by a disjointed sense of calm that gradually pulled me back under the current of drug-induced bliss.

“Sweetie.”

My eyes flew open at the sound of his voice, the best wake-up call in the whole world. I slowly turned my head to the side, taking in the sight of my disheveled husband, eyes blood-shot with heavy dark bags haunting tight circles against his pale skin. “Channie?”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Chan sniffled, fresh tears swelling his cheeks as he leaned in closer to grip tightly to my hand. “It’s all my fault.”

I considered him closely, wondering what he could possibly mean by accepting blame for whatever was causing him obvious pain. I faintly remember Jisung telling me about am accident, but it was difficult to really think back any further, like a wall had enclosed around my brain, refusing to allow anything else to come into consciousness. But Chan didn’t need to cry, he was usually the best part of my life, waking up in bed together to share sweet kisses or eagerly waiting for him to come home and swoon over my newest K-Drama obsession. “Why are you sad?” I asked him, reaching out to do my best and wipe away those nasty tears.

“You wouldn’t answer your phone,” Chan cried, heart-wrenching sobs that broke my heart with every heavy inhale. “I didn’t know where you were.”

“Is that why you’re upset?” I asked, wiping away a few mischievous curls that had wandered into his eyes.

“I found you in the intersection,” Chan whispered. “And the car...” he trailed off with a choking gasp as if the details were too horrific to describe.

“I’m here now, Channie,” I said, desperate to relieve his sadness. “I didn’t go anywhere.”

Chan nodded furiously, pressing a wet kiss to the back of my hand. “I can’t lose you like that, sweetie.”

“Well, I plan to stick around for a while,” I said, earning me a half-smile in return. “Channie,” I whispered, glancing around the room conspiratorially. “Is there anything good to eat in this place?”

This time Chan did laugh and it was the best medicine I could possibly have.

“Vitals?” Chan asked, lingering around the poor nurse who clearly wasn’t expecting this much attention over one patient when she clocked in this morning.

“I already checked them,” the nurse informed him, writing down something on the chart clipped to the edge of my bed. I sipped my water as I watched the two of them, wondering if Chan had been this overbearing the entire time.

“Temperature?”

“98 degrees.”

“Blood pressure?”

“122/75”

“Respiration?”

“Chan,” I whispered softly, immediately drawing my husband’s attention who was at my side in an instant. “I think the nurse knows how to do her job.”

The poor woman shot me a grateful smile as she re-clipped my chart, hurrying out of the room as if she couldn’t possibly escape fast enough. “Sorry,” Chan said, taking his seat next to me. “I’m just worried.”

“I get discharged tomorrow,” I told him. “Pretty sure that means I’m just fine.”

“But your leg,” Chan whined, fussily messing with the large cast, tucking the blankets in securely.

“It’ll heal,” I said, frowning as I picked at the squishy jello the nursing staff had brought in earlier. “Isn’t there anything else to eat?”

Chan tsked. “That’s good for you, Y/N. It’s full of necessary vitamins.”

I should have known better than to ask my doctor husband if I could possibly have something that actually had flavor to eat. No matter how much I begged and pleaded, Chan refused to waver from the nasty daily meals I was brought, much to my disappointment. “I’d kill for a burger.”

“Too much fat,” Chan said, turning down the idea before I could possibly try to negotiate.

“It physically hurts me to eat,” I tried. “I think they’re secretly plotting my death.”

“Y/N,” Chan scolded lightly. “There’s a reason why we serve this to patients, alright?”

I frowned at him but shoved a spoonful of the nasty substance in my mouth, earning me a pleased smile in response. “Happy?”

“You can have better food tomorrow,” Chan said, pausing as he reached down to check his phone notifications. “Minho is here,” he grumbled. “I guess I’ll go get him from the lobby before he gets lost.”

“Thank you, darling,” I chirped, accepting his brief kiss.

“I’ve seen worse,” Minho declared, ignoring Chan’s disbelieving scoff.

“You obviously weren’t here when she was first brought in,” Chan growled to him.

“How are you feeling, Y/N?” Minho asked, disregarding Chan who had gone back to check the dozens of machines somehow monitoring my every possible bodily function.

“Hungry,” I grimaced, pointing to my discarded container.

Minho lifted it curiously, bringing it his nose before he let out an unattractive grunt. “Is this garbage?”

“Don’t encourage her,” Chan said, reaching for my chart for the millionth time that day. “I’ll be right back, Y/N.”

“Okay,” I said, rolling my eyes once his back was turned.

I waited until Chan was gone before desperately reaching out for Minho. “You’ve got to help me, Minho! I can’t stand another day of jello and mashed potatoes. Get me a Big Mac and I’ll give you the number of one of my work acquaintances.”

Minho raised an interested brow. “Scale?”

“Oh, she’s definitely an 8...please!”

“That’s impossible to turn down, Y/N,” Minho grinned. “Give me ten minutes.”

I snatched his sleeve before he could walk away. “Make sure Chan doesn’t see.”

“So ask Han Jisung to fuck something up, got it.”

“You’re my best friend in the entire world. The rest of my life will be spent in your servitude.”

Minho offered me a brief salute and I solemnly nodded my head while ignoring the way my stomach growled.

It was growing dark outside and I’m pretty sure Jisung had accidentally given me too much of whatever pain medicine I had been prescribed. I could barely keep my eyes open as Chan settled next to me on his chair. “Y/N,” he said softly, picking at an invisible string on his suit pants. “I want to talk to you about the fight we had.”

My exhaustion vanished in a flash. “Okay,” I said, even though I had been hoping Chan would just forget that the fight even happened.

“I owe you an apology,” Chan said. “For acting like a jealous prick. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“It’s my fault too,” I said. “I know how you feel about him, but I still went out anyway.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Chan said, swallowing down the lie even though I could always read him like a book. “But every time I think about Seo Changbin, I can’t help but remember Freshman year.”

“You act like he broke your heart instead,” I tried to joke, but Chan was everything but amused.

“Yeah, he did break your heart, Y/N, and I’ll never forgive him for it. He was an arrogant bastard back then, and I’m sure that hasn’t changed much.”

“Not really,” I agreed, recalling our prior lunch arrangement.

“And I’ll never be okay with the fact that you work with your ex-boyfriend, but since you love the job so much, I can’t possibly fight with you anymore,” Chan said. “I should trust you as my wife.”

“I’m not remotely interested in Changbin,” I said. “It just sucks that he’s got good connections.”

“But if he tries anything on you...”

“Don’t worry,” I reassured him. “I would never do anything to hurt you, even if his thighs look super good these days.”

“Y/N.”

“I know, Channie,” I giggled, reaching for his hand. “Trust me, alright? I don’t plan to work there forever. Fingers crossed for a promotion to the publisher.”

“I’ll pray every night if I have to,” Chan said. “As for Felix...”

“Don’t worry about him,” I said. “I know that I should try harder to get along with Felix.”

“It’s a two-way street,” Chan countered. “I’ve spoken to him about everything.”

“You have?” I wavered. “What did he say?”

“Well, he feels really bad about the accident,” Chan said. “I think he realizes how much better things would be if you guys were on friendlier terms.”

“He really looks up to you,” I said, recalling Minho’s words from before. “I hope he doesn’t feel like I’m trying to steal you away.”

“Felix and I have always been close,” Chan said. “We both had a hard time moving here from Australia. But at the end of the day, we could rely on each other..”

“High school wasn’t very good to either of you,” I said.

“Well, except for you of course,” Chan said, attempting a smile.

“They were mean to you, Channie,” I said, “and you didn’t deserve any of it.”

“I’ve gotten over that,” Chan insisted. “But Felix always took everything harder than me. He wasn’t very social until college.”

“He should have stuck to being an introvert,” I said. “Look at the kind of friends he ended up with.”

“Are you saying Hyunjin is a bad influence?”

“Have you been around for our interactions?

“I’ve definitely noticed, Y/N. Remember what happened that one time when we went camping-”

“Anyways,” I loudly interrupted. “It seems like we both have a lot of things to work on.”

“But that’s why we talk about it,” Chan said, pressing a soothing kiss to the wrinkled crease of my forehead. “That’s what married couples do, right?”

“Ah, Channie, when did you become a walking cliche?”

“Should I be more serious, then?”

“You’re getting there with the doctor’s jacket.”

“Really?” Chan asked, sitting back in his chair. “Is this your way of asking us to try some kind of kinky roleplay?”

“I don’t know, but it might be interesting. Can I call you Dr. Bang?”

Chan was positively beaming. “You can always call me Daddy instead.”

“Darling, I think they accidentally gave you my prescription of morphine.”

If anyone were to ever ask me, then I’d tell them that signing hospital discharge papers was about as difficult as applying for a loan. “How many more are there?” I wondered, scribbling a messy signature at the bottom of the last sheet Jisung had brought for me to sign.

“I think that’s it.”

“You think?” I snorted, watching Jisung sort through each page carefully like he really had no idea what he was holding.

“Each year they add more shit for the patients,” Jisung explained. “I’m pretty sure they do it just to confuse me.”

“Everything confuses you, Jisung,” I said, patting his arm sympathetically. “Has Chan come in yet?”

“He’s on his way with Felix.”

“Goodie,” I grumbled. “Are you working late today?”

“Someone has to help since Chan insists on taking the day off,” Jisung said.

“I hope they aren’t planning on letting you do the surgeries.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

I kept my mouth shut, deciding to let Jisung live in his deluded fantasy world where he could somehow manage to cure patients of their ailments as opposed to causing them. Unsurprisingly, since the moment I had first met him, Jisung had always been completely sure of himself even if he was whole-heartedly wrong. For example, when we were all seniors in college, Chan refused to speak to Jisung for an entire week after the two of them received an F on their group project. Apparently, Jisung forgot to submit the lab report on time and waited an additional week before approaching the professor to politely ask if he could still bring it to her after class.

“Channie,” I tried to console him. “You know Jisung didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Yeah, but my GPA will still suffer the consequences,” Chan had sulked, whining about how difficult it was to maintain a friendship with Han Jisung.

Yet, when Chan was first hired by the hospital, Chan sent in a very persuasive reference for Jisung, encouraging the higher-ups to offer him a nursing position. The three of us went out to celebrate Jisung’s new job offer, nursing shots of bad vodka while eating rather terrible sushi. “Chan,” a very tipsy Jisung had said. “I love you so much, man.”

“Oi, keep your hands to yourself,” Chan had grouched despite wearing the biggest grin on his face...

“Y/N,” Jisung interrupted my recollection. “I think Chan just got here.”

“Finally,” I sighed. “I thought I would never be able to get the smell of alcohol out of my nose.”

“Thank God you’re here,” I said the moment Chan and Felix walked into my hospital room. “I’m pretty sure I had to sign my life away to leave this place, but it’s totally worth it.”

Chan rolled his eyes playfully. “I see you’re feeling better this morning.”

“I’ve been better for days,” I said. “But my doctor wouldn’t allow me to so much as breathe the wrong way.”

“Is that so?” Chan asked, reaching down for my discarded bag. “Your doctor sounds like a real asshole.”

“Yeah, but he’s pretty hot. I’d totally fuck him if I wasn’t already married.”

“It sounds like you have a thing for doctors?” Chan asked. “Does this husband of yours know that?”

“He probably does,” I said. “But I feel like he’ll probably leave me to masturbate on my own for months because of this dumb cast.”

“Y/N,” Chan scoffed. “It’s important for you to heal properly.”

I groaned loudly. “Why are you so responsible?”

Chan carefully handed me my bag. “Make sure you have everything. I’m going to talk to your surgeon one more time before we leave.”

It was difficult to prevent myself from protesting, finally realizing just how quiet it was with just me and Felix in the room. “Hi, Felix,” I said, awkwardly adjusting my blankets once Chan had disappeared from sight.

“Y/N,” Felix said, gaze focused on some unidentifiable point on the floor.

“What have you been up to?” I asked, trying to sound cheery because I didn’t like the look of despondence on Felix’s normally bright visage.

“I owe you an apology, Y/N,” Felix said with a vulnerable tone I had never heard from him before. “It’s because of me that you got hurt.”

“Felix,” I hesitated because this was uncharted territory for the both of us, a distant cry from our usual taunting banter. “You don’t need to do that. Everything’s fine now.”

“Your leg,” Felix whispered as an unexpected tear slid down the side of his face.

“It’s just a fracture,” I shrugged. “I’ll be just fine in a few months.”

“Just a fracture,” Felix parroted back, voice thick with emotion. “Why aren’t you mad at me? Because you should be. I’m always getting in your way.”

“Is that what you think?” I asked, surprised to hear Felix’s true feelings. “Felix, you aren’t in anybody’s way. You know I don’t really care that you’re staying with us, especially after you just graduated. I just wish you’d be a little bit more respectful.”

“Because I’ve always been jealous of you, Y/N,” Felix said. “Especially since Chan likes you more than me.”

“Felix, you know that Chan loves you. He would do anything in the world to make you happy.”

“He’s always chosen you over me,” Felix said. “He stopped hanging out with me on weekends in high school, and he even went to the same college as you even though he was accepted into Harvard and Yale.”

I was shocked by Felix’s true feelings, a rare moment of vulnerability that he was choosing to share with me. “Lixie,” I said. “Why have you never said anything before?”

Felix shivered at my use of his nickname. “I didn’t want to. You guys are so happy together and I didn’t want to hurt Chan.”

“Ya! Felix,” I frowned, “your feelings matter too. And if you really feel that way, then we need to talk about it together.”

“I’m just a burden,” Felix gruffed.

“No, you aren’t,” I insisted. “You’re part of our family, and if you’re ever feeling uncomfortable, then you deserve to be heard.”

“You don’t really mean that do you, Y/N?” Felix asked with glistening eyes. “I don’t want you to say these things just to make me feel better.”

“Felix, when have you ever seen me lying to someone just to protect their feelings?” I asked. “I always speak my mind, and this time I’m putting my foot down. When we get home, we’re having a movie marathon, just the three of us. And this weekend, you and Chan can go somewhere together out of town. I’ll have Minho stay with me instead.”

“Really?” Felix asked, swiping a sleeve under his bright red nose.

“We’re in-laws you know,” I said. “That means we look out for one another.”

“Y/N,” Felix giggled and, for once, I didn’t feel the slightest bit annoyed.

“Lee Felix, don’t you ever let me catch you crying like this again, understand?”

Felix nodded, smiling so brilliantly that I was reminded of when we were much younger and he was just an innocent little boy who idolized his older brother.

“Careful,” Chan said, holding the door wide with one hand while keeping a firm grip around my waist.

“I’m not gonna break,” I grumbled, pausing in the doorway as I let out a grateful sigh. It was a huge relief to be back at home and not stuck in that hospital room surrounded by questionable smells.

Chan carefully led me into the living room and I gave him my crutches before collapsing on the futon, ignoring the rigid fabric because I had never been happier to hug one of the matching throw pillows. “Comfortable?” Chan asked, helping me prop my leg up on the coffee table. Meanwhile, Felix lingered in the doorway, grasping my bag tightly between his hands.

“Come join us, Felix,” I said. “You’ll let out all the heat.”

Felix nodded, eyes wide as he locked the door behind him. Chan sent me a curious look as if he wasn’t sure what I was hoping to accomplish by inviting his younger brother into the same room. “I have something for you.”

I clapped my hands together eagerly. “Is it something loaded with carbohydrates and fat?”

“Not quite,” he said, handing me my cell phone. “Seo Enterprises called earlier today. I already contacted them about the accident, but I guess they need to hear from you.”

“Great,” I grimaced, dialing the number from memory. It rang for a few moments, and Chan and Felix were both messing around with the TV, probably trying to figure out what to watch. Because the only thing the two brothers argued about was whether action movies were better than romance.

“Seo Enterprises, this is Eliza speaking how can I help you today?”

“Hi,” I immediately cringed, wondering how many cool points I could possibly lose in one day. “This is Y/N, can I speak to Mr. Seo please?”

“I can transfer you right away,” Eliza spoke promptly as if she had already been prepared to receive my call.

“Y/N!” Changbin’s voice now answered. “I’m glad to hear from you.”

“Yeah, I’ve been having a lot of bad luck recently,” I said. “I guess you know about the accident.”

“I heard,” Changbin said. “How are you?”

“I’m alright,” I said. “But I might need some time away from the company. Apparently, a broken leg is a pretty big deal.”

“Take as much time as you need, Y/N,” Changbin said. “I’ve hired a temporary secretary until you’re ready to come back.”

“I don’t know, Changbin,” I said. “It might take several weeks. Maybe you should just hire a replacement.”

“There’s no need for that, Y/N,” Changbin countered. “I still believe you’re the best person for the job.”

“Well, if you’re sure...” I trailed off, shaking my head furiously at Chan when he held up our used copy of The Notebook.

“I’m definitely sure,” Changbin said. “Call me when you want to come back. We still have a lot of things I want to do together in the future.”

“You’re too indecisive,” Chan said, finally taking a well-deserved seat next to me on the futon.

“And you have terrible taste in cinema,” Felix retorted.

“Yeah? Well maybe we should just let Y/N pick,” Chan suggested, mouthing a sweet kiss against my temple.

“I think Felix should decide,” I said, cuddling up closer to Chan’s side.

“Really?” Felix asked, appearing entirely surprised that I would allow him such freedom.

“Why not?” I sighed happily. “I’ll even watch that weird anime movie if you want.”

Felix scoffed but a faint smile remained as he grabbed the remote. Chan chuckled and leaned down to press another kiss to the top of my forehead. “I’m proud of you, sweetie,” he whispered.

“It’s only because I love you so much,” I said while shrugging indifferently, but Chan could always read through me.

“Hmm, well I love you more,” he said, brushing his fingers through my hair as the opening credits rolled across the screen.

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #bang chan #chan #chan fanfic #bang chan fanfic #chris bang #chan smut #bang chan smut

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oikawaplssteponme · 4 years

Text

𝑨𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒀𝒐𝒖: part 4

✨part 1

✨part 2

✨part 3

“It’s always been you. Has it always been me?”

pairing: Tobio Kageyama x fem!reader

rating/warnings: E for everyone :) [again I think two swear words but that’s it]

synopsis: You liked him. He liked you. Easy right? Well, maybe not as easy as you thought.

A/n: hii again!! 💓i hope you all have been enjoying the fic so far :) i think this is the half way point of the fic, since ive been posting two chapters at a time. just a reminder that my requests/asks are open to anyone who would like to request something (just check out my rulebook first) and the taglist for this fic is still open so just ask to be added and i gladly will add you! okay enough of me talking, enjoy chapters 7&8! xx Willow

•

Seven: donuts

You two laid in your bed for what it seemed like hours. You talked about everything and nothing all at the same time. You told Kageyama about the first time you saw him, and how instantly intimidated you were.

“Damn, I’m really that scary?” he asked. You laughed.

“It’s just that you were in game mode so you were too focused to even notice me.”

The first time you saw Kageyama was when you and Koi passed the gym to peek in at the volleyball team. You had heard that some first years were in the starting line up but you needed to see it to believe it. You poked your head into the door and there he was: yelling at Tsukishima. You remember asking Koi who he was. She told you that his name was Tobio Kageyama. Your heart was instantly hooked right then and there.

“Well I remember when I first saw you,” Kageyama teased.

“Okay go on.” You sat up beside him.

“It was the first day of school and I was going to turn in my club application to Daichi. I was walking to the gym when I heard you. You had your headphones in so I don’t think you noticed me, but you were singing and dancing, as if no one was watching. You were singing at the top of your lungs. I guess that's when I knew.”

You had completely forgotten about that. You got sucked in your own world that you didn’t even see him.

“Wait knew what?”

“That I liked you.” Your heart stopped. It was one thing to mess around with Kageyama but it was another to actually hear him say that he likes you.

“I’m surprised that you’d like me after that embarrassment,” you joked. You could feel the blood rushing to your face.

“I thought it was cute,” he said with a smile as he placed a kiss on your forehead. You smiled.

“Hey I have an idea. Get dressed.” You got up from your bed and put your sweater back on. Kageyama gave you a puzzled look.

“Where are we going?” he asked, also putting his shirt back on.

“It's a surprise,” you teased. Kageyama rolled his eyes and you two went downstairs.

You noticed that it was starting to snow. You put on your winter coat, a hat and your sneakers. Kageyama put on his jacket.

“Kags you’re gonna get cold,” you said. He looked down at his jacket.

“I’ll run by my house and grab my coat,” he replied.

“Okay, just meet me outside.” He nodded, put on his shoes, and headed to his house. You checked yourself in the bathroom mirror. Not bad. You grabbed your wallet, house keys, and went to wait outside for Kageyama.

It was already dark out. You waited by a street lamp and watched the snow fall. You looked around for Kageyama before feeling a warm presence behind you. There he was, hugging you from behind.

“So where are we going?” he whispered. You turned around and grabbed his hand.

“I told you it’s a surprise. Let’s go.”

You and Kageyama walked downtown, enjoying the snowy scene before you. The moon was a perfect crescent. The street lamps guided your path.

“Almost there,” you said. You pulled Kageyama’s arm out of excitement when you turned the corner. There it was. One of your favorite places in the world. It was a little food cart, painted green with blue flowers all over it. Thankfully they were still open.

“Donuts?” Kageyama questioned.

“Not just any donuts. These very well might be the greatest donuts in the world,” you explained. You got in line to place an order.

“Hi could I get an order of the small sugar donuts please?” You asked. The cashier nodded and you paid.

“Aren’t I supposed to pay for stuff?” asked Kageyama. You giggled.

“Of course not, it’s my treat.” You grabbed your donuts and went to sit down on a bench.

“Here, try one.” you handed Kageyama the bag of treats and he picked one out. You looked at him intently. He took a bite and his eyes lit up.

“Wait these are actually really good,” he said with his mouth full. You smiled from ear to ear.

“I knew you would like them,” you cheered. The two of you sat quietly on the bench ate the rest of the donuts. The snow continued to fall down around you. You could see each individual snowflake’s pattern against Kageyama’s black hair.

The breeze got colder. You started to shiver and Kageyama pulled you towards him.

“We should probably head back before you catch a cold,” he said. You nodded and started to walk about to your place.

Once you got to your house you realized how late it was.

“Kags it’s almost 10 o’clock.” You couldn’t believe how much time you had spent together and how much happened in one day.

“Oh shit really? I’m supposed to be heading home,” he said. You felt your heart sink. You knew he obviously would have to leave at some point but you chose to ignore it. You worried that this would just be a one time thing.

“Oh okay,” you frowned. Kageyama noticed your pout.

He pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” He said, giving you a squeeze.

“Okay…” You didn’t want to let go. “Kags?”

“What is it?” He looked down at you.

“I didn’t get to tell you earlier but I like you too...if you couldn’t already tell.” You could feel your face getting hot. Kageyama just looked at you and smiled. He gave you a quick kiss but you pulled him back in. You wanted to make sure he knew. You finally pulled away, giving him a shy smile.

“I know.” he said, turning around and waking home.

•

eight: someone like me

The rest of the weekend seemed to move painfully slow. You only saw Kageyama that Saturday and hadn’t talked to him since. You spend the rest of the weekend digesting everything that happened that day. You couldn’t have helped but notice a shift in Kageyama. He seemed to be instantly more confident after the time you spent in your room. You liked this new Kageyama. There was still doubt in your mind regarding the two of you but you knew that it was just your nerves talking. You worried that the second you stepped into school he wouldn’t say a word to you. That what happened was just for that one time. You didn’t take Kageyama for a player though. In all honesty, you were probably the first girl he ever kissed. Regardless, you were nervous.

You got dressed and ready for school. You wore your classic uniform. The weather was getting colder so you once again put on your winter coat and hat. You grabbed your bag and headed out the door. Once you opened the door to leave, there Kageyama was, waiting for you.

“Hi there,” he said. Your face lit up.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“Walking you to school of course,” he said, grabbing your hand to hold.

“Is this going to be a reoccurring thing now?” You asked.

“If you want.” Your smile was enough of an answer for him.

The two of you walked together until reaching Karasuno. He still held your hand upon entering the school.

“Kageyama!” a voice called. You both turned to see Hinita, Tsukishima, and Tadashi. “Oh hi, Y/N.”

“Hi guys,” you replied.

“Mind if we borrow him for a second?” asked Tadashi. You looked up at Kageyama.

“Oh yeah, that's fine. I’ll see you guys later,” You said. You let go of Kageyama’s hand, giving him a shy smile, and turning to go to your locker.

“Wait Y/N,” Kageyama called back. You looked at him again.

“I’ll see you later, okay?” He smiled.

“Sounds good,” You nodded and Kageyama placed a kiss on your head before going back to his friends. You try to contain the butterflies in your stomach as you grabbed your books from your locker.

“Kageyama I never took you for the romantic type,” said Tadashi. The school day had finished and Kageyama was now at practice.

“I’m not,” groaned Kageyama.

“Well I think Y/N would say differently. You can’t seem to keep your hands off her,” teased Tsukki.

“Come on guys leave him alone,” said Suga.

“Thank you,” Kageyama got up and went to warm up.

“So is she your girlfriend now?” asked Daichi. Kageyama stopped in his tracks.

“Uh no…” he said. Technically you weren’t but now a million thoughts ran through Tobio’s head. He knew it was way too early to pop that question but he didn’t like the idea of any other guys having their eyes on you.

“So you don’t mind if I talk to her?” joked Tsukki. Kageyama didn’t find it funny.

“You wouldn’t,” Kageyama said back to him. Tsukki laughed.

“Come on King of the court, a little hello wouldn’t hurt.”

“Alright guys that’s enough-“ began Daichi.

“I swear if you-“

“I said that’s enough! Now everyone go warm up,” yelled Daichi. Kageyama gave Tsukki a glare before turning away to face the court.

“You’re lying,” said Koi. Your eyes widened. You were at practice and you were telling Koi about what happened between you and Kageyama.

“You think I’m lying?” you asked. Koi chuckled.

“You’re trying to tell me that the same Kageyama that can barely say more than a sentence at a time came over to your house and kissed you? If you are trying to make me jealous it won’t work,” replied Koi. You were so confused.

“I’m sorry, what? Why would I lie and why would I try to make you jealous?”

“Let’s face it Y/N, I don’t think you are really Tobio’s type anyway. I mean if all that stuff actually happened then good for you but I’m not too sure if he actually likes you.” You were shocked at Koi’s response.

“Didn’t you tell me just last week that you thought he liked me?”

“Well what was I supposed to say? I’m your friend, if I told you what I really thought you probably would have started over-thinking it. Anyway since you seemed to have had a fun night with Kageyama, I guess I was wrong. So no harm done,” Koi smiled.

You were still trying to process everything that she had said.

Why would she say that to you? Why would she think you were trying to make her jealous? How did she even know what Kageyama’s type was, or even anything about Kageyama?

You felt uneasy after listening to what Koi had to say. It was a mix of anger and anxiety that she might be right.

“Then what is his type?” you asked, unsure whether or not you actually wanted an answer. A tiny smirk appeared on Koi’s face.

“Oh I don’t know...probably someone like me.”

[taglist OPEN: @vangoghpoets @vangoghmusings @lilnuances @jennasquishy8 @ladybird-00 @moonlightsof]

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu #haikyuu tobio #tobio fluff #tobio x you #hq #kageyama #Kageyama x reader #always you. 🌸

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hopelikethemoon · 4 years

Text

The Guilty (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: The Guilty Rating: PG-13 Length: 3100 Warnings: Mild Angst. Medical Triggers ( loss of consciousness and discussion about pre-eclampsia, etc.) Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. Set in March 1997. Part two in the “big angst arc”. There’s a POV switch midway through for obvious reasons. Summary: Reader follows her gut.

Taglist: @grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito @rogrsnbarnes@thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow@hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501@fioccodineveautunnale @roxypeanut @just-add-butter @snivellusim@amarvelousmandalorian @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts@synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper@awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie @swhiskeys @lady-tano @beskar-droids @space-floozy @ct-arc-5555 @cable-kenobi

At noon you made your way down to the records room where Lieutenant Ableman had put the intern. Javier had been hesitant about you asking Monica what she knew about the rumor, but… you had to know. If the rumor was loud enough to make its way to the dean’s office, then it was loud enough for the students to be fully aware of it.

“You know,” You started, leaning against the doorframe as you watched Monica sort through a stack of files and put each one into the appropriate banker boxes. “I had a sweet gig when I was sixteen helping process evidence at my town’s tiny ass police department.”

Monica startled a little, dropping the folder she was holding. “Shit! Hey! How long have you been there?”

“Couple minutes.” You laughed. “Just thinking.”

“How have you’ve been?” Monica asked with a hesitant smile. “You’re due soon, right?”

You shrugged a shoulder as you rested your hand on your stomach, “Still got a few months to go.” You walked further into the record’s room, leaning down to pick up a stray file that had fallen. “How are your classes going?”

“I’m in this finite math class that is killing me.” Monica answered, making a face. “I was told it would be easier, but… C means complete, right?”

You chuckled, “I’ve heard that somewhere.” You moved to sit down, feeling the slightest inertia from bending over. That was happening far too often lately. “I’ve heard a lot of things lately.”

“Oh?”

You inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to ignore the sensation of being able to feel the world spinning around you. “A couple weeks ago I heard about this crazy rumor at the university.”

“What was it?” Monica stared at you, looking a little nervous.

“Oh, just that Javier was cheating on me with a student, which…” You laughed humorlessly. “Is hilarious, because I have that man by the balls.”

“I—.” Monica shook her head. “I haven’t heard anything about that. I think the whole class knows that Javier loves you. I mean his office is practically a shrine to you.”

“I know.”

Monica swallowed thickly. “I should… I have a lot to finish before my night classes.”

You weren’t about the let up, “Why are you so nervous, Monica?”

“I’m not nervous.” She shot back too quickly. “Look, I’m really sorry about this rumor or whatever… I’m sure it’ll blow over.”

“Or Javier will lose his job.” You rubbed at the center of your forehead, trying to soothe the throbbing headache forming there. “I mean, a rumor like that could destroy someone’s career.”

Monica put the cardboard lid on the banker box with a little more force than necessary. “I really… I haven’t heard anything.” She didn’t meet your eyes.

“Look, you’re a nice kid Monica…” You offered her a small smile. “I’m not accusing you. I just want to know what you know. And I think you know more than you’re telling me.”

You started to stand back up, fingers gripping at the filing cabinet beside you for support. Shit.

Your pulse was throbbing in your ears. You could feel it in your throat, down your arms.

Fuck.

“Monica…”

“Hey. Hey.” She grabbed your arm to support you. “I’m here.”

You clenched your eyes closed, trying to ignore the way that the world was closing in on you. Everything felt like it was in a tunnel. Voices — distant and kind of tinny sounding. Your lips felt numb, your words slurred and mouth full of cotton. It felt like pins and needles up and down your body.

“Call Javi.” You managed to think or maybe say… just before everything stopped.

——

Everything stopped the moment Javier got the call. He wasn’t even entirely certain how he ended up at the hospital — the period between the phone call and arriving at the hospital was a blur. He vaguely remembered swearing at a red light for lasting too long — he definitely went through it.

“Mr. Peña, right this way.” A nurse said as she guided him through the emergency room, back to her room. “The doctor will be with you both shortly.”

Javier’s heart clenched as he looked at the hospital bed, meeting her eyes. She looked awful. They had her hooked up to oxygen and she had an IV. “Hey baby.”

“Hi, Javi.” She said quietly, his voice half of what it usually was.

His gaze flickered to the woman sitting beside her bed. Monica. She jumped up quickly, gesturing to the chair she’d been sitting in. “Here, Professor Peña… I’m so…” She looked between the two of them. “I’ll just go.”

“I have questions.” Javier said, his jaw clenched tight. “Do you mind waiting in the waiting room?”

Monica clasped her hands together. “Of course… Yeah.” She looked towards the hospital bed. “I’m so… I’m so sorry.”

“What are you—”

“Just let her go, Javi.” She whispered, gesturing for Monica to leave.

“What the hell is going on?” Javier questioned, his hands on his hips. Before he grabbed the chair and pulled it closer to her bedside. “Baby… you gave me a fucking heartattack.”

“You and me both.” She breathed out, reaching out for his hand. “I was terrified.”

Javier squeezed her hand tightly, lifting it to his lips. “Have the doctors talked to you?”

“A little.” She sank back against the bed. “They took some blood.” She said, lifting her arm to show off the bandage. “I guess they need to check kidney and liver function.”

Javier stood up, leaning over the bed to press a kiss to her forehead. “It’s your blood pressure, isn’t it?” He questioned, brushing his knuckles against her cheek. “Baby.”

“Yeah.” She grimaced a little. “I’m actually fortunate I was down in records with Monica. She… saved me.” She swallowed thickly. “She knows something. I don’t know what, but… that girl is guilty.”

“I told you not to.” Javier shook his head, trying to keep his voice steady. “You’re supposed to be keeping your stress levels low. And what? You decided to start questioning my students about this bullshit rumor and now you’re in the fucking hospital.”

“Javier.” She shot him a look. “I passed out. It happens.”

Javier dragged his fingers through his hair, taking a step away from the bed and turning his back on her. He was so fucking pissed and he didn’t know who to be pissed out. He couldn’t be pissed at her — even though she’d done exactly what he had told her not to do. He wanted to be pissed at Monica if she was behind the fucking rumor. He’d been so lenient with her — late work, missed classes…

His fingers curled into fists at his side and he shook his head slowly. He so fucking angry.

“Javi.” She whispered. “Come here.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m the one in the hospital bed, I get to call the shots. Come here.”

Javier’s shoulders sank as he turned around to face her. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

“You didn’t.”

“I get a call that you’re in the hospital unconscious and you don’t think I’m going to lose my mind, baby?” He dragged a hand over his face and looked away. “I can’t fucking lose you. I can’t.”

“You’re not going to lose me.”

Javier paced the short distance he could in the room. “What the fuck does she know?” He questioned, stopping at the foot of the bed. “Is she the one spreading the rumors? I swear to God if it is—”

The door opened slowly and the doctor stepped inside. “Bad time?”

She sat up in bed and shook her head slowly. “My partner’s under a lot of stress at work.”

“Stress that seems to be rubbing off on you,” The doctor’s brows raised suggestively. “I’m Dr. Smith,” She offered, shaking both of their hands. “If you’d like to sit Mr. Peña we can talk about what happened and how we can prevent this from getting worse.”

“Of course.” Javier mumbled, ducking his head as he moved to sit back down in the chair beside her bed. He reached for her hand, interlacing their fingers. “Is she going home today?”

“She is.” Dr. Smith smiled warmly. “With a number of changes, however. Fetal heartbeat is strong, I’m not concerned about the baby's health right now. Mom’s health is my primary concern. You came in here with a blood pressure that was 150/90. That’s a dangerous level for anyone, but especially while pregnant.”

“So, what do we do?” Javier questioned.

“A whole lot of nothing.” Dr. Smith answered with a levity-offering chuckle. “You’re going to have to stay at home. I’m prescribing you to remain on bed rest for the remainder of your pregnancy.”

“Are you fucking serious?” She grumbled, sinking back against the pillows.

“Yes. I know it’s inconvenient, but it’s necessary. If your blood pressure remains high, you’re at much higher risk for strokes, seizures, and placental abruption. The last thing we want to do is have to induce labor early. Everything looks great with baby, it’s just you we’re worried about right now.”

“When will we get the results back from the tests? You took blood, right?” Javier questioned.

“In a few hours. We’re just going to keep her for observation for a few more hours. Get that blood pressure down. You’ll be home tonight.” Dr. Smith answered, offering both of them a small smile. “Do you have any questions?”

“Will the delivery be more difficult?” She questioned, rubbing her stomach. “I didn’t have any problems with Josie.”

“I’m not going to rule that out,” The doctor explained. “Your obstetrician will be best able to answer that. Where did you deliver?”

“In Colombia.” She answered. “But I didn’t have any issues like this and that… was stressful.”

Javier scraped his teeth over his bottom lip as he looked between the doctor and her. The mere mention of Colombia had his own blood pressure spiking. This was all his fault. She was laying in a hospital bed, hooked up to wires all because of him.

“I need to…” Javier drew in a shaky breath. “Shit. Josie... “ He raked his hand over his face as he stood up suddenly. “Daycare. I need to call Steve.”

“Are you alright, Mr. Peña?”

It was all his fault.

“I need to call someone to pick up our daughter.” Javier looked towards her then. God, she looked so weak. So pale.

The doctor said something to him as he left the hospital room, but he was gone before he could make it out. He headed down the corridor, retracing the path the nurse had led him along, heading out the double doors that led to the waiting room.

He headed for the payphone, fishing a couple quarters out of his pocket.

Steve offered to pick her up and bring her to the hospital. They both figured Josie might make her mother feel a little better. She was a cuddle monster whenever she knew someone wasn’t feeling well.

It was his fault she wasn’t feeling well.

He was the stupid fucking selfish idiot who had wanted another try. He was the one that had wanted another kid to make up for all of the shit he missed out on in Colombia.

Javier slammed the phone back into the cradle before bringing his fist down against the top of the box. He was so fucking angry at himself. They had Josie — why couldn’t she be enough for him? Why had he wanted to have another child? To put her at risk.

And she was at risk.

“Professor Peña?”

He tensed, slowly turning to look at Monica. “Why are you still here?”

“She asked… I can go?”

“Don’t you have classes?”

Monica swallowed thickly and lowered her gaze to the ground. “I feel awful about what happened. She just… she was asking me about the rumors and…” She shook her head. “I didn’t know she was having trouble with her pregnancy. I didn’t know.”

Javier narrowed his eyes. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!” She looked up then. “I didn’t… mean to. But it was so much money and…”

“What?”

Monica glanced over her shoulder warily. “After work one day. The internship.” She gulped a little, looking like she was actually about to cry. “He had a badge.”

His jaw rocked as he stared her down. “Who had a badge?”

“Someone with the Drug Enforcement Administration.” Her cheeks flushed with shame and she stared at the ground. “I’m so sorry. But it was so much money and I…”

It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice on him.

The motherfucking DEA?

“What the fuck did they tell you to do?”

Monica took a step back, “To start the rumor.”

“Why?” Javier questioned, fingers clenched at his sides.

“I don’t know.” Monica admitted. “It was ten thousand dollars. You have no idea how much I needed it… I couldn’t say ‘no’.”

He took a step backwards.

The article. It all had to do with that goddamn article. His idea.

“I need…” Javier bit down on the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood. “I need to go sit with her. I need to…” He flexed his jaw, turning away then. “I can’t fucking do this right now.” He didn’t even look back at her, he headed straight back into the emergency room, back to her room, back to her bedside.

She was asleep. Whatever they’d given her to help calm down had clearly knocked her out. She needed the rest. He knew she hadn’t been sleeping well — not since the start of the rumor. Not since he gave her those five fucking envelopes.

All of it. All of this.

It was all his fault.

There was a clock on the wall that was ticking. Each second growing louder.

This was his punishment.

All those people. The people he failed. People who died. The people he wasn’t able to save.

“Javi.” She whispered beside him, reaching out to touch his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Just rest, baby.” He pleaded quietly.

“You look like you need to be admitted too.” She smiled at him. “Babe, I’m fine. My blood pressure is just high. I fainted. I’ll be home in a few hours.”

“But what if you’re not fine? What if this…” He clenched his jaw and shook his head.

“And what if you got shot in Colombia? Don’t treat me like a fucking flower over ‘what ifs’, Javier.” She pulled her hand away from his face and rubbed at her forehead. “You know how much I hate being treated like an invalid.”

“I don’t want to do this right now.” Javier shook his head. “I want to get you home and then… we can talk about everything. What we’re going to do…”

“It was Monica wasn’t it? My gut was right, wasn’t it?”

Javier stared at her, before nodding his head slowly. “Yeah.” He laughed bitterly. “It wasn’t just Monica… it was the fucking DEA.”

Something beeped on one of her monitors.

“Just my pulse. It slipped off my finger.” She assured him, readjusting the clip on her forefinger. “What do you mean it was the DEA?”

“You need to relax, baby.” Javier reached out and rested his hand on her stomach, his other reaching for her hand. “We can talk about this at home. When you’re not… hooked up to fucking wires.” He sat back and pressed the heel of his palm against his forehead. “This is fucking bullshit.”

“Javi.”

“We’re not doing this.” He stood up, hands on his hips. “I’m not losing you.”

She held her hand out, “Come back here. You have to keep your shit together for Josie, Javier. You can’t be freaking out like this.”

“It’s all my fault.” Javier let the words slip out of his mouth.

There was a knock on the door before it opened to reveal Dr. Smith on the other side again. “Good news.” She said with a hesitant smile. “Your organs look good, but we are still concerned with your blood pressure. We can bring it down if you keep your stress levels down—” She gave Javier a pointed look. He knew he was red in the face, still fuming from everything. “I’m going to send you home with a prescription for anticonvulsants.”

“What does that do?” Javier questioned.

“It’ll stave off seizures. She hasn’t had one yet, that we know of. But with her blood pressure range, it's potential. They help prevent them. But rest will be best.” The doctor looked towards her bed then. “We can get a letter sent to your office.”

“I’ll handle it.” She promised. “Or Javi will. Whoever. They’ll understand.” She laughed bitterly. “I’m a walking worker’s comp claim.”

“And the baby’s fine?”

The doctor nodded. “Both of them should be fine if her environment is kept calm.”

“We’ve been going through a lot.” Javier admitted, staring at the floor.

“We just moved.” She explained. “And some stuff from our past has been giving us issues. It’s nothing that we can’t resolve.”

“After you give birth.” The doctor reminded her. “I’ll start the discharge process within the hour. Good luck.”

“I’m so sorry, baby.”

“Don’t blame yourself.” She sank back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. “Don’t lash out at her.”

“Who?”

“Monica. She’s just a kid, Javi.”

Javier sighed heavily. “I wanna fucking punch a wall.”

“Try not to make a mess.” She quipped dryly. “And I can’t exactly help you hide the body like this.”

“You’re going to bed when we get home.”

She made a face. “Sounds like the bed is going to be my new home.” She tilted her head to grin at him, wiggling her brows. “Sounds like fun, yeah?”

Javier glared back at her. “How can you make jokes?”

“Because if I don’t I’m going to fucking lose my shit.” She shot back. “I was so scared.”

“I know, baby.” He took her hand into his and leaned down to kiss each knuckle. “I’ve got you though, okay? I’m going to take care of you and Josie and the baby.”

“Bean.”

“What?”

“You called her bean. Remember?”

Javier cracked a small smile. “It was little legume, I believe.”

She grinned at him, “We’re going to be okay, Javi. I promise you.”

“That’s just the medicine talking.” He leaned down and cupped her cheek, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “Steve should be here with Josie soon… then the three of us can go home.”

“That sounds nice.” Her lashes fluttered. “I need a nap.”

“Yeah you do.” He laughed softly, brushing his thumb over her cheekbone. He hated seeing her like this. Weak. Exhausted. Not her typical fiery self.

She could say it wasn’t his fault, but he knew it was. And he fucking hated it.

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

237 notes · View notes

flowerwrites06 · 3 years

Text

break my mind’s eye II — jjk

Plot: Jungkook thinks marriage is the only way to seal a deal.

Pairing(s): Druglord!Jungkook x Fashion Designer!OC (Name: Belle)

Rating: G | PG | M | R 18+

Type: Drabble | Oneshot | Two Parter | Series

Word Count: 5k+

Genre: Mafia | Angst/Smut/Fluff

Tags & Warnings (for entire series): drug dealing, marriage through trickery, explicit smut, drug use, dubious consent, prostitution, miscarriage, lots of manipulation, impregnation through manipulation

“You’re…letting me go?” Belle stared at her manager Yeeun who, by her clear frown was not mistaken in her harsh words. The two stood in the others’ office with her rack of clothing standing hopelessly in the corner of the room.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to book a venue for a designer with no prior backing?” She continued with her berating.

The younger female assumed it must have around an hour since she arrived and began the onslaught of scolding for missing her fashion show. Belle tried to explain that she needed to help her brother out in a personal situation but family commitment apparently to her was not deemed that important.

“I trusted you and you fucking humiliated me in front of fashion critics.” Yeeun gestured wildly before pinching the bridge of her nose. “You had so much potential too.”

Her heart dropped; slowly wishing that she would go back to just scolding her instead of reminding her of what could have been achieved if the fashion show went on. All the building blocks tirelessly built to get to this point now crumbling down. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t going to bring back what you just threw away.” The older female spoke in brutal honesty as she usually did except it hit Belle harder than normal. “Go on. I can’t help you anymore. Not when there’re plenty of other designers who actually care enough to come to their first fashion show.”

Belle bit down her bottom lip, sun dipping outside casting a dull grey-ish light in the minimalistic office. Photos of all the different designers Yeeun represented now staring down at her in disappointment as she dragged her rack of clothes out of the office.

The morning welcomed sharp chills even through her coat and scarf adorned her body. She grabbed the two pieces of clothing hurriedly since her new wardrobe was organized by Nana who didn’t really know how the girl usually kept everything. Of course that led to a crap load of confusion in the morning when Belle tried to pair something decent and it turned out to be too thin for the temperature she struggled through now.

It didn’t help her situation when her lower belly still ached a little from last night and her head pounded from the lack of proper sleep.

Belle stopped short in front of the office building to see two men standing in front of her, one of them familiar enough for her to realize who they were for. “He’s having you follow me now?” She seethed.

“Master Jeon found out your car was still in the carpark and you took a train so he asked us to drive it here.” Jongho explained plainly, gesturing to the Camry behind them.

Who knew the mere sight of a vehicle could bring this much relaxation in the midst of this stress?

The female sighed pushing the rack towards the hood. “Thank you but please don’t call him ‘Master Jeon’ in front of me.” Belle kept her voice firm, opening the hood and placing all her clothes into an empty box she had with all her discarded designs.

“But we have to.” Jonghos’ brows furrowed, pouting a little; silently reminding that he wasn’t all the much older than any of them, perhaps even younger.

The other guard besides Jongho took the liberty of pushing the rack away in front of the office building.

Belle dared to take another look at the building again. Not too long ago, she walked into this very building with bright eyes and possibly an even brighter future. Memories of Yeeun smiling at her newest designs, approving them to a point where she even got her a chance at a fashion show. Three critics sat at the audience that night and every single one of them looked more important than the last. Unfortunately Belle had someone far more important than any fashion critic or opportunity. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing grew harder and harder to determine.

“Out here, he’s Jungkook.” She spoke still looking up at the building with a more sour expression now at the sound of his name coming from her lips. “And I’m driving.”

Jongho didn’t protest much on the demand and gave her the keys.

“So what’s the real reason Jungkook sent you?” Belle asked as they drove through the city streets. The car had been pleasantly so much warmer than outside or in the train and she grew more thankful as the ice under her skin melted.

Jongho stammered lightly before sighing. “Master—” He cleared his throat. “D-Jungkook did get a little…suspicious that you might try to find a way to get out of the deal. It’s all still—fresh, I guess.”

The female scoffed, fingers tightening around the steering wheel. “He put my brothers’ life under threat and thinks I’m going to run away like some sorry bitch?” She spat pressing down the urge to stomp on the brakes and hopefully run over Jungkook accidently when they reached the mansion. “You’re both going home.” Belle finalized ignoring any stutter of disapproval from the two males.

“But he—”

“But nothing…if he’s so scared of me running away then he should come meet me himself instead of sending his men.” Past the bustling city, Belle drove into the familiar road towards the secluded mansion.

The last time she drove down this path her life was so much more different than it was now. How could it all just change in the span of a day? All because one man had too much power over others.

Then she stomped on the brakes, the shaking hand of the speed checker accelerating at a worrying rate up to the hundreds.

Muffled tire and engine sounds numbing her ears as her stomach jumped from the push across the slightly graveled road.

Heart pumping adrenaline, fueling the wildfire in her body, pushing away memories of his fucking hands on her skin, the disappointment she brought to everyone even herself.

“Ma’am!” A frightened voice called out from behind her, mentally slapping her back to reality.

Letting out deep breath Belle slowly braked the car again bringing them back down from the rush as the mansion now came into view. “Sorry.” She glanced over at Jongho who looked more concerned for the female compared to the guard at the back who feared for his life in a split second.

Into the courtyard she stared at the collection of guards who once again stood lined up the entrance of the mansion. An intense feeling of déjà vu flushed over her before turning to the two guards. “Alright, out you go. I need to get to work.” Going to the fashion-house now became the only thing that could make her day that little bit better.

“Master Jeon—he’ll be angry at us if we left you alone.”

Belle saw something oddly familiar in Jonghos’ eyes that she couldn’t shake off. Seeing the recognizable glint reminded her that Taehyung was not the only victim to Jungkooks’ power. “If Madame Saito sees two strange men with me, she’s going to try and call the police. I don’t want her involved in this whole mess.” She explained. “Is there any way you can keep yourself hidden so Jungkook at least knows that you were doing your job?” Both men nodded thankfully.

She rested back on the seat, closing her eyes as her body reminded her again of the anxiety burning her from the inside. “I need to get some warmer clothes anyway so stay here.”

Nana told Belle that Jungkook was out all morning and a little bit of the day on important business meetings around the city. Not that the younger female really gave a shit where he went but once again…common fucking courtesy.

The drive to the fashion-house was quiet aside from some light music playing on her radio.

They arrived at Madame Saitos’ fashion-house. An elegant slab of purple and gold with the monogram of the Japanese Kanji symbol that meant ‘elegant’. Belle remembered getting the job a few weeks before her parents passed away. It immediately turned from a dream job to the only thing keeping her from breaking down after Taehyung started going into a downward spiral.

Now more than ever she needed the sweet caress of fresh fabric under her fingers to calm her down, to prevent another incident like the one on the road from happening. As per her request, Jongho and the other guard who later introduced himself as Jisung, opted to walk into a nearby café.

Belle walked through the glass doors, all her worries seemingly melting away at the look of neatly organized clothes on the different shelves and stands. Her clothes fit warm and snug on her now and the level upstairs for designing awaited her arrival.

“Bella, darling!” She heard the familiar voice echo through the building.

Turning to the right Belle couldn’t help but smile seeing the bright woman walk over to her in a gorgeous purple pantsuit. She gave her a small bow which she waved away.

“How many times have I told you? You’re a fellow designer.” Saito tapped her chin which would have made her giggle.

But her stomach dropped when reality sunk in and she realized Saito was wrong. “I’m not a designer anymore.” Belle smiled sadly.

“And why is that?” She raised her own chin, deep purple lips looking more defined and her dark brows furrowed.

It was as if her mind opened up the millions of drawers she tried to lock up to help her survive the rest of the day but the younger female adorned a much smaller smile. “Yeeun let me go. I couldn’t go through the fashion show on a family emergency.”

Saito scoffed loudly before waving her hand. “Managers don’t make designers. Designers make designers.” She pressed hand over Belle’s heart. “She’s one manager, darling. Don’t let it get to you.”

If it were a less strange time than this, Belle would instantly be consoled by Saitos’ words but there was so much more. So many more things she wanted to talk about but she feared no one’s ears were understanding enough. Even she couldn’t hear herself talk about what happened. “Thank you.” She muttered forcing her mind to feel somewhat relaxed.

The older female smiled, patting her cheek. “I have to go personally deliver this to a client.” She rolled her eyes looking down at the cover hanging over her arm. “He’s this big businessman who wants a suit tonight and just needs to thank the designer in person.” She scoffed making Belle chuckle. “You’ll be in charge for the rest of the day, darling.”

Belle’s heart fluttered in excitement as she immediately nodded.

“Oh and…since you have more time on your hands without Yeeun pestering you. I was wondering if you wanted to work on a few designs for the Spring Line.” Saito smiled casually not entirely noticing that fireworks were going off in her mind in celebration.

She was getting a chance at another line. Another opportunity. Belle couldn’t help giggling a little but she quickly stopped herself. “You’re not joking?”

“Of course not. You’re the best designer I’ve had in years.” She patted her shoulder comfortingly. “One thing though, I’ll need four designs by tomorrow morning so we can be ahead of schedule. I’ve done six that you can look at to see what the concept is but let your wonderful mind run wild.”

A light hint of anxiety seeped through the thick elation bursting through her veins but Belle ignored it, merely smiling at the older female as she walked out of the building.

Sun dipped behind the skyscrapers, warm light shining through the glass giving the whole store a deep warm glow as Belle stood in front of the main counter. Hand ached a little from holding onto the pencil for too long. Grey scratches against the ecru paper of flowy trains and minimalistic patterns to symbolize re-birth in some way.

Something she admired about Saito was her excessive need to shy away from the norm of flowers and nature. Maybe thinking a little deeper into what spring meant and really bringing the art out of her fashion. Part of why despite their prices, people still walked in and out purchasing their numbers.

It was a breath of fresh air from the line of fashion and a wonder to behold during Fashion Week.

Unfortunately Belle’s little bubble of inspiration was rudely popped when the door opened with Jonghos’ voice echoing in the building.

“Ma’am…Master Jeon is asking for you at the mansion.” He tried to speak quietly but the walls resonated even the smallest of sounds.

Her brows furrowed, dropping the pencil on the table making her fingers cramp up ever so slightly. “What does he need me for?” Anger rose and burned through her eyes.

“He said it’s important.” Jongho shrugged.

The woman huffed averting her gaze before jumping off her chair. “Did he call you? Is he still on the phone?” Belle stomped over to the male who tried to back away a little but the glass door closed behind him. “What could he possibly want from me now that’s so damn important?” He already got everything else.

“I don’t know, ma’am…he—he didn’t say.”

“Well tell him that I have a lot of work to do and he can wait.” She glared at the young male even though truly he wasn’t the one she was angry at.

Eventually Jongho walked towards the car with slouched shoulders leaving Belle to go back to work on her counter. The scratches were a lot harsher due to her shaky fingers so she reminded herself to re-do some of these sketches again when it was time for coloring.

“Ma’am?” Jongho called out again in a much softer voice.

Belle’s pencil broke off making her fingers curl up into a fist but she forced herself to take a deep breath. “What is it, Jongho?”

“Master Jeon wants to speak with you.” He held out a phone walking towards the counter.

She glanced at the male before down at the phone, accepting it gently and putting it on her ear. “Yes?”

“Are you trying to be a fool?” Jungkooks’ tone took a dark turn from what Belle heard yesterday; more growly and deep like he had been yelling all day.

“I already said I’m working.” Belle muttered calmly. “What’s so important?”

“We need to go to an event. My aunt and uncle have invited me to come tonight and I need you to be there to get rid of any future suitor arrangements.” He explained with that same infuriating voice acting like she was doing something wrong trying to work.

“I need to some things done, Jungkook, can’t we re-schedule a meeting with your aunt and uncle?” Hands brushed away the pieces of led that broke off from her pencil.

“No we can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t think you realize just what’s at stake if you piss me off too much.” He challenged.

“Your deal was that you’ll stay away from Taehyung if I stay with you.” She corrected.

“You should know that I can change deals in an instant.”

Belle gripped onto the phone suppressing the urge to throw it across the room as she gulped down a lump in her throat. Her dormant anxiousness now fully erupting through every limb in her body. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.” She stated before hanging up not wanting to hear his voice anymore as she gave it over to Jongho.

Angrily packing up her stuff, she decided to let Jongho drive this time to prevent any incidents on the road from her heated up mind.

So much for fucking freedom. He couldn’t even re-schedule a meeting to let her work. Maybe it was an overreaction but looking at the situation, Belle thought that being livid and frustrated was called for.

The sky turned purple by the time they reached the mansion and Belle barely waited for the car to stop before she climbed out. Grabbing her things, she walked through the entrance ignoring any attempt at the guards trying to hold the bags.

“Finally her Majesty has arrived, what took you so long?” Jungkook, already dressed up in a black suit with a white shirt slightly unbuttoned, jabbed at the female right as she walked through the archway.

Belle merely glared at the male walking past him up the stairs while Nana followed her helplessly. The older female almost wanted to apologize for him but couldn’t find the time as she chased her.

In their shared room, Belle placed the bags of her work next to her side of the bed. Tears of frustration flooded in her eyes a little which she tried her best to hide when she saw Nana come up behind her.

“Dear…” She muttered comfortingly but the younger female shook her head.

“It’s okay, please. I’ll get ready myself.” Belle smiled through teary eyes before walking past her.

Ankle length daffodil-yellow dress adorned her freshly showered body, long curls with the top half clipped away from her face and some shoes to match. As she coated her lashes her mind tried to organize how she was going to rush to the event and then come back to finish all the designs. The deeper the thoughts moved, the more anxiety bubbled inside her almost making her makeup application a little dodgy but decent enough.

“Dear, Master Jeon is calling for you.” Nana spoke gently as if knowing that the sound of his name stroke a nerve in her constantly.

“I’m done, I’m coming.” Belle answered, hands leaning against the edge of the vanity table in the walk-in wardrobe trying to calm down her breathing. I hope you’re okay, Taehyung. It was only the first day and she could feel the weight of it all bearing down on her body. For the first time since yesterday, the woman almost wanted to admit that she may be lot more vulnerable than she thought.

Shaking her head roughly she stared at herself in the mirror. Dusty rose lips mimicking the light hint of colour on her cheeks and a glimmering eyes mostly from the illusion in the shimmery eyeshadow. At least she looked put together. Her body and mind were a whole different story.

Nana held onto her hand as they walked down the stairs, Belle held onto the dress to ensure she didn’t trip and make her stressful day even worse. Little bits of her hair dropped over her face but it was only when she reached the end.

Her eyes slowly trailed up to see Jungkook staring at her up and down the way he did the first time they met.

“What’s wrong?” She looked down at her outfit for a moment, seeing absolutely nothing wrong but Jungkook must have had something to say.

The man stayed silent for a few minutes shifting in his position. “Nothing. Let’s go.” He muttered coldly walking to the exit with three of his guards already walking behind him like robots.

Belle followed the trail, gripping at her clutch purse.

Dull blue hue adorned the sky when they were outside. The guards dispersed to the sides giving Belle way to move forward where she saw Jungkook looking over his shoulder as if he was searching for someone.

Not a word uttered, Jungkook raised an arm and let it hover over her back as they walked towards the luxurious black Sedan shining even in this grey-ish light.

Throughout the car ride, Belle tried to ask Jungkook what the event was for and what they would be doing for the rest of the night. All her questions answered with detached replies that gave her no explanation whatsoever making it highly difficult to keep her patience.

“At least tell me how long it’s going to be?” She asked in a much softer tone now.

“An hour or something, alright? Now just keep quiet and don’t embarrass me.” Jungkook snapped before looking out the window.

Belle wanted to be shocked at the sudden change in behavior from the dashing and charming man she saw yesterday but this just served as a good reminder. This was all a fucking joke. She was dressing up to play pretend with a scum of a man who had no care for anyone but his own needs and reputation.

The momentary silence broke by muffled sounds of flashing cameras and people calling out or yelling at the glimmering bodies on the carpet.

Jungkook had the car door opened for him and the second he walked out, he could hear the people growing more restless and the cameras going wild.

Belle shifted towards his side now keeping her clutch purse on her chest.

He held his hand out and she accepted it to keep up appearances, adorning an elegant smile on her rosy lips. Their fingers intertwined with one another as they walked past them with their personal line of guards on each side.

Sounds of violins made her ears prick up and the smell of chocolate touched her nostrils, her stomach rumbling a little. Thankfully the incessant noise from every corner was able to conceal it.

The event hall shone in golden light with a crystal chandelier centering the ceiling, buffet standing on the far left, slow dancing in the middle and a sitting area on the far right. People were crowded but nothing like a bustling city. Instead of strangers pressing against each other in trains or trying to push past to get to work, people kindly slithered through crowds or made pleasant conversation before they moved onto the next group.

Though Belle despised the reasoning for being here, for years this was an event she has always wanted to attend. The class, the culture, the clothes; all of it surrounded her like a welcoming hug and she didn’t really protest when Jungkook led her further into the hall.

Fake elegant smile now melted into something more genuine as she curiously peered over at the performers in gold satin dresses dancing in the middle of the hall. On her left, a vast selection of foods, some she didn’t even recognize but the chocolate fountain wasn’t hard to detect and her stomach shouted again.

“Auntie!” Jungkook called out, his usual sour mood moved to a smile as he leaned to press a kiss on an older womans’ cheek.

The lady looked as elegant and bright as the hall they were in, wearing a white dress with golden hair pins in her neat bun while the man next to her—Jungkook’s uncle wore the same simple suit his nephew did. Except he had a bow on unlike her ‘partners’ more unkept look. “I’m so happy you could be here!” His aunt cheered softly, her wide smile showing off all the lines on her face.

“Why would I not? Your events are always my favorite.” He smiled again almost to a point where Belle almost suspected it may have been fake.

“There’s someone I want you to meet.” His aunt nodded at the younger male whose lips twitched a little making him grin wider.

This one looking a lot more obviously forced.

His aunt turned to the side and called someone over. A woman who looked around their age, tall and slender with long black hair flowing past her lower back and her body adorning an azure dress, loosely stitched rhinestones in large clusters. All of that topped up with some bright red lipstick and shimmering blue eyeshadow to match the clothes. She gave Jungkook a big, advertisement smile.

Belle felt Jungkooks’ hand leave her and immediately hold his out towards the woman which she accepted happily. She introduced herself as Suyeon, only side-glancing her before fixating her gaze on the man instead.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Suyeon.” His charming tone sounded all too familiar.

“I think you two would hit it off really well.” Her aunt declared already off of a two second conversation. Finally the older woman managed to look over at her. “And who’s this?”

Jungkook hummed in question before looking at Belle. “Right this is—” He paused for a moment staring at the woman as if he was already starting to have second thoughts. “This is a friend…Belle.”

Belle smiled at the three new people even though her heart burned with anger at how quickly he changed his mind.

“Of course.” His aunt smiled.

The four elites dived into deep conversation as Belle quietly smiled and admired the performances instead; hoping they would distract her somehow. None of them really cared about her presence here which didn’t help her fury towards Jungkook.

Ah Jungkook.

He who conveniently shifted on the other side of her so he could stand next to Suyeon instead, conversing with her pleasantly. Everything about their deal now seemed long forgotten leaving Belle to worry about the fate of her brother.

“So…uh—” Suyeon spoke towards her now.

“Belle.” She answered softly, keeping up with that smile tiresomely.

“I’ve never seen you in these kinds of parties before.”

“This is my first time.”

“Ah—” Suyeon gave her a fake smile. “Makes sense.” She eyed her up and down as the other three of them laughed.

Even Jungkook didn’t seem to stop finding it funny.

“I mean…no offense, darling but yellow isn’t really a nice color for these events. They look a little—childish.” Venom flowed from her tongue when she spewed those words.

Whatever anxiety burning Belle from the inside now was momentarily pushed down as the fashion lover inside her scurried up. “It’s called daffodil…not yellow.” She emphasized the word making it sound like an uncouth description to use. “If we are talking about childish, perhaps you could take a closer look at the plastic rhinestones on your dress hanging on for dear life on a single thread.” She looked at her up and down this time. “I highly doubt that’s Louis Vuitton work.”

Her words silenced the four of them immediately. Suyeons’ photo-worthy smile now turned into an ugly frown, the aunts’ brows were raised in intrigue and Jungkook stared at her in shock. Belle merely smiled as the older woman of the group tried to change the topic now into something more lighthearted.

Once the confidence drowned out, anxiety kicked in again wanting to walk out of this vicinity right now and never look back. The four of them dispersed a little but Jungkook walked straight to her, holding her arm and bringing her close. “Behave yourself, alright? There’s no need to be rude.”

Belle scoffed yanking out of his grip and walking towards the buffet hoping that some food would help her mood. The clip in her hair began to prick at her aching head and her shoes felt like they were tighter by the minute. Nothing felt right about this night.

“Oh Belle…” She heard a drawling, sickly sweet voice.

Just her luck. Looking over to her side, she gave Suyeon a similar grin trying to look as friendly as possible even though their previous interaction was anything but that. “Suyeon—”

“I hope there’s no hard feelings about my comment.” There was no genuine nature in her tone in the slightest but Belle played along, once again playing pretend that everything was going swell.

“It’s all forgotten.” She shook her head.

“I also hope you could give me some more fashion advice.”

Belle turned to look at the female and a dampening chill trailed all the way down from her chest to her torso, body stepping back in shock. She looked down at her daffodil dress now stained with red almost forming into an orangish color. Gasps echoed throughout the room and she could feel the stares on her. Staring up at Suyeon, she was holding out an empty glass with a sinister smirk on her face.

“What color is that, little rat?”

“Suyeon!”

Belle could’ve sworn she heard Jungkooks’ aunts’ yelling but she was already heading for the bathroom, the whole day picked at her final straw.

If in a better mood, her eyes would have been shining in glee at the gorgeous white marble bathroom with bright gold detail. But right now they were flooding with hot tears that stained down her cheeks. Body shivering a little from the harsh chill on her entire front, some pieces of her hair completely damp and the skin on her chest reddened as well.

Belle whined lightly under her breath, lips quivering as she grabbed some tissues and dabbed off the excess liquid not wanting to face the crowd outside.

She heard a woman squeal a little when the door opened but she couldn’t care less to look.

Her head was numb, her body flushing from hot to cold and her body too stubborn to stop shaking from the cold and anxiety.

Finally her eyes flickered to the mirror to see a familiar figure standing next to her. The mere sight of him caused her to sigh in elevated frustration. “If you’re just going to yell at me—” Belle spoke in a cracked voice.

“I saw what she did.” Jungkook immediately replied in a mutter.

Belle sniffled washing off the liquid from the ends of her hair, feeling her clothes now sticking to her dampened skin.

The male padded closer reaching out to touch her shoulder.

“Don’t touch me.” She backed away as one hand held onto the dripping hair. “You chose your wife, now leave me alone.” Belle hated that Jungkooks’ previous behavior created a lump in her throat, fresh tears arriving at the brim of her eyes.

A sigh passed his lips as he lowered his head, leaning against the edge of the counter. “Her joke wasn’t funny.” Jungkook murmured. “I just laughed for the sake of my aunt, she stares at my every move when I make conversation with these suitors. I can never seem to gain the courage to upset her.” He shifted in his position. “Truth be told, you were the most beautiful one here.”

Belle shook her head, another tear dropping down her cheek even after touching up her makeup. “I just wanna go home…” She tried to hug herself but it only made the clothes on her front more uncomfortable. “Please.”

Jungkook searched the womans’ expression finding nothing but distress and discomfort in her whole being. He nodded before shrugging off his coat with a sigh. “Here.” He held his coat out.

She hesitated for a moment glancing up at the man before caving as she draped the coat on. Thankfully it was big enough to cover up most of her dress. Once again his hand hovered over her back as they walked out of the bathroom.

Most of the people were back to their own conversations save for Jungkooks’ aunt who still looked worriedly at the two.

“I didn’t know she was going to behave like that, sweetie.” His aunt genuinely looked like she regretted inviting the menace to the event. “I’m so sorry, are you okay?” She rubbed her shoulder a little.

Belle smiled at her and nodded. “Thank you.”

“We’ll talk to you at a better time, auntie.” Jungkook kissed her cheek again before they walked out of the hall in silence.

Trying their best to ignore the paparazzi, the two were led into their car and were driven home in silence. Belle scooched on the far side on the back seat looking out the window hoping that this day would end. But it couldn’t.

Heat flushed at the back of her neck when she looked at the time. Her work tomorrow would start at around nine after she paid a visit to Taehyung in the rehab center. So that left only a few hours with no sleep to finish the rest of her designs for the spring line. Right up until they reached the mansion, her head began planning all the ways she would keep herself awake and finish the job she was set.

“What happened, mistress?” Nana asked and Belle just replied that a snake got a hold of a wine glass before they walked upstairs.

Jungkook walked over to the bar the last time she glimpsed back only for a second.

Forcing herself to have a cold shower, she put on simple pair of grey sweatpants and a matching sweater with her hair up in a ponytail. Her body million times more comfortable now in dry and warm clothing while her dress was being soaked. Annoyance washed over thinking of the possibility that she might not be able to take the stain off.

Belle sat on the floor of the walk-in wardrobe, the perfect place to lay out all her designs and begin her sketching session.

Jungkook walked into the room when she was figuring out where to add details on one of her dresses. He paused a little looking at her deeply engrossed in her work.

She merely glanced at the male before going back to her tasks. Talking to him or even looking at him would only remind her of the time he stole away and for what? Humiliation and a wine stain on one of her favourite dresses? Belle even physically shook her head at the thought. The fact he even threatened to break the deal for this shit only worsened the fury.

But she couldn’t break any more pencils over her anger. Now Belle had to work. If anything needed to go well, it was this. So as the hours kept ticking away, the woman did nothing but do what she did best.

While Jungkook giving one last glance at her, fell fast asleep on the bed assuming she might just come there when she’s ready.

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