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#im sweaty and my head hurts and every noise is like a punch to the face im overwhelmed and HOT and i HATW IT
karda · 3 years
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my brain is fucking melting
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nyctolovian · 3 years
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Summary: Shouto refuses to call Katsuki after falling sick. When Katsuki comes home, he makes it clear that Shouto should never do that again, all while fussing over his sick husband.
Warning: Emetophobia/vomit, nudity
Shouto plopped to the floor.
"Sh-Shouto?!" Izuku rushed to his side. "What happened? Are you—" He squatted down beside Shouto and placed a steadying hand on his best friend's back. "Are you hurt anywhere? Was it a quirk?"
"Not well, I think," Shouto replied. His vision was hazy with exhaustion.
Pressing a hand to Shouto's forehead, Izuku muttered, "Ah… you're heating up. It's not your quirk, is it?"
Shouto shook his head.
"It's a fever then… You should go home to rest."
"Mm…"
"Should I call you a cab?"
"Mm…"
Izuku sighed. "If you weren't feeling well, you should have just called in, Shouto. You overwork yourself so much. Should I call Kacchan too?"
At breakfast, Katsuki mentioned something about going for an important briefing today. Shouto thought it might be best not to bother him so he shook his head lightly. "It's just a bit of a fever."
Izuku nodded. "If you say so."
+++
Shouto found his hands hovering back to his phone before he tucked them back under the blanket again. Things had gotten worse as the day went on. He felt weak and he was sweating bullets but trembling like a newborn fawn. 
Multiple times throughout the day, he found himself typing in the textbox in the chat he had with Katsuki. His messages ranged from "Im not well" to "can you come home pls?" All of them were eventually deleted and his phone placed at his nightstand. 
The frequency at which he reached for his phone increased as his discomfort increased. His world spun nauseatingly even as he lay in his bed and his stomach was beginning to do dangerous twists and flips. 
During one of the down-times, he trudged over to the kitchen and grabbed a plastic bag from the basket where Katsuki kept them. He hadn't puked anything out yet so he just kept the plastic bag clenched between his sweaty fingers, lying in a pathetic foetal position on the bed.
Just as he leaned over the plastic bag for the nth time, almost but never managing to vomit, he heard a soft click from the living room. Shouto peered at the clock. Ah, was it evening already? The whole house was unlit so Katsuki probably didn't know Shouto was at home.
Katsuki turned on the lights in their bedroom and Shouto let out a punched-out noise. 
"Wha— Shouto?!" Katsuki exclaimed. "What the fuck are you doing in the dark?" He walked to his side of the bed and threw his bag down unceremoniously.
"S-switch off the lights. Please," Shouto whimpered. The light was making him even dizzier.
After a quick glance over, Katsuki realised what state Shouto was in and quickly switched the lights off. Kneeling down by Shouto's side, he frowned. "Are you sick? Feel like puking?"
Weakly, Shouto nodded.
"Shit. Why didn't you call me, asshole?" 
"Didn't want to be a bother."
Katsuki huffed loudly. He began to stroke Shouto's back in large firm circles and Shouto moaned at the alleviating comfort. "You're going to be my fucking bother for as long as we're married so take that courteous bullshit out of this house. I don't appreciate it."
Despite the mounting nausea, Shouto chuckled. 
"Fucking call, okay?"
He hummed his assent. Then, another wave of nausea hit him and he pulled the plastic bag to his face again, panting so heavily he couldn't swallow the saliva as it dripped out of his mouth. His stomach churned like a washing machine overflowing with bubbles and tried to expel it all out but nothing would come.
"Vomit it out. You'll feel better after."
"I'm trying," Shouto hissed out between heaves. 
Katsuki fell silent and he rubbed bigger and faster circles over Shouto's back. 
Eventually, the waves of nausea finally peaked and spilled over, sending the contents of Shouto's stomach into the plastic bag. His nose and mouth burned from the acid as he grimaced and groaned. Tears sprang to his eyes from the mere effort.
Katsuki said something to him (he didn't quite register what though) before leaving his side. 
Round two hit him and he coughed violently before the puke hit the bag. He panted heavily and he was forced to breathe in gulps of the acrid scent from the plastic bag. He felt a tap on the back of his hand and glanced up to see Katsuki.
"Give me," he said. 
Shouto's head was a fog. He handed the plastic bag to Katsuki, who then handed him another plastic bag. Tidily and quickly, Katsuki tied up the used plastic bag and stood back up to throw it.
At the breath of fresh air, Shouto sighed as he leaned over the new plastic bag. When his husband came back, he resumed rubbing soothing circles over Shouto's back. After Shouto lurched forward for the third time and heaved out clear fluids into the bag, he sighed. The nausea was gone, and what was left was absolute exhaustion. Katsuki took the bag from Shouto and tied it off again. Before leaving this time, he took a wet cloth from the table (when had Katsuki brought that in?), and gently wiped Shouto's face with it. 
Then, he shoved a cup of warm water into Shouto's palms. "Drink." Then, he left again.
Shouto took a couple tiny sips from the cup before leaving it on the nightstand and curling back under the sheets.
Katsuki came back with another plastic bag and a basin. He placed the plastic bag with the unfinished cup of water and set the basin on the floor. He gave Shouto a little squeeze as he sat down on the floor beside Shouto. "God, you're such a fucking idiot," he muttered, wringing a towel over the basin. "If you're this fucking sick, call me." 
All Shouto could manage was a sheepish smile. 
He placed the cloth over Shouto's forehead and the cool sensation relieved him.
"Katsuki?"
"Hm?"
"Cuddle."
Katsuki narrowed his eyes at the request. "Insufferable bastard. You're lucky you're fucking cute," he grumbled as he climbed into bed. 
As the familiar warmth and pressure of Katsuki enveloped him, he sighed contentedly. Gently, Katsuki pressed a soft kiss to his hair and then on his left cheek. Shouto closed his eyes and tried to relax. 
Every time the wet towel on his forehead was about to feel too warm, Katsuki would dunk it in the basin, wring it, and place it on Shouto's forehead again. 
Eventually, under his husband's watchful care, exhaustion overcame Shouto and he slipped into a fitful slumber.
When he woke up again, Katsuki had already fallen asleep. He glanced towards the clock. 10pm. Work must have worn him out too… Shouto's lips were feeling a bit chapped so he sat up to get himself the drink he left at the nightstand. As he did, however, Katsuki, ever the light sleeper, woke up with a start. 
He squinted at Shouto and rubbed his eyes. "Better?" he said, voice sticky from the nap.
"Yeah. A lot. You haven't eaten, right?"
"Nah. Not yet. Let's order in," he said. "Porridge?"
Shouto nodded.
Katsuki groaned as he sat up and grabbed his phone. A couple minutes later, he set the phone aside. "Alright, stinky baby, time for a bath."
Instinctively, Shouto took a sniff at his clothes and wrinkled his nose. He smelled of sweat and puke. Ugh. 
That sent Katsuki chuckling for some reason. Shouto stood up. Satisfied that he had regained enough energy to walk, he headed for the bathroom. "Oh," he said at the doorway, "my clothes."
"Already got it," Katsuki said from the wardrobe.
"Okay." Shouto switched the lights and water heater on before heading in, and turning the water on for the bath.
Once they had taken off their clothes, Katsuki nodded towards the bathroom stool under the shower, and said, "Sit."
Shouto followed his instruction while Katsuki dragged the other bathroom stool over to sit behind him. He took the shower head, testing the water on his palm before turning it towards Shouto. 
Shouto relaxed under the water as it ran over his skin and soaked his hair. Bakugou gave himself a quick shower as well before grabbing the shampoo and squirting a generous portion into his hand. Then, gently, he applied it to Shouto's hair, massaging his scalp. 
Tension seeped out of Shouto's body under the tender attention of Katsuki, and he found himself leaning his head against those strong hands. After shampooing his hair, Katsuki used a loofah to scrub Shouto clean. Then, it was running water over his head and body again, removing the suds. 
As soon as Shouto heard another squirt from behind, he turned around with a frown. "Conditioner?"
"For fuck's sake," Katsuki groaned. "Why are you so fucking opposed to conditioner? Isn't a part of your income from fucking modelling? You think any of those thirsty fucks will pay you if you have disaster hair? You're not even actually the one doing the conditioning, you asshole!"
Shouto laughed. "Okay, okay," he said. "Only because you're doing it for me."
"Ingrate," Katsuki muttered, placing his hands into Shouto's hair again. When all the conditioning was done, he slapped Shouto's shoulder. "Get out." Shouto rolled his eyes and headed to the bathtub. Slowly and carefully, he sank into the water and leaned back, closing his eyes.
He could hear Katsuki soaping himself and showering as quickly as he could. The second he was squeaky clean, he marched over to the bathtub and stepped in with his husband.
With a soft sigh, he leaned against Shouto's chest, resting his head against the other's shoulder. Shouto smiled and reached for Katsuki's hand, which obediently intertwined with his. 
The two sat in silence, soaking in the moment. They sat there for several minutes before Katsuki spoke up, "Let's get out. We're all wrinkly already." He lifted their interlocked hands to demonstrate his point.
Shouto huffed in laughter as they stood up. 
"What's so funny?" Katsuki asked as he unplugged the bathtub stopper. 
"Not… Not really funny," Shouto said, looking at his hands. "Just thinking."
"Did it hurt?"
Shouto shot him a glare. "Anyway," he said, "I was thinking that… you know. It'd be nice if one day we do get wrinkly. Together."
Katsuki wrinkled his nose at Shouto. "Sap."
"You don't like it?" he asked, eyes wide and ears heating up. "I… I thought it'd be nice if we could grow old together though…"
"Nah, I… I like that too," Katsuki replied with a soft grin. 
Shouto nodded, fuzzy feeling in his chest. 
"If you want that to happen though, you've gotta take care of yourself, Shouto."
"Yeah… Yeah…" He grabbed his clothes and began putting them on. "I'm sorry, okay?"
"I'm serious."
When Shouto turned to look at Katsuki, he noticed the dour look in his red eyes. 
"Next time there's anything, you've got to tell me. You keep so much to yourself… it worries me. I'm your fucking husband. I want to know things." 
Apologetically, Shouto hummed and kissed Katsuki's dripping hair. "Okay, okay. I promise. I'm sorry."
"Good. Next time this happens, I'll gut you like a fucking fish."
Shouto nodded. "Okay."
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tatianafarenheit · 3 years
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Devourer (open ending)
TW: GORE, slight lime,
It was pouring. The wind was howling woefully while it quickly rushed trought the trembling leafs of the Wangshu Inn’s Foundation of a tree. Even the sound of the other travelers, stopping for the night, was drowned by the white noise that rang trough-out the halls of the Inn, creating a terribly uncomfortable sensation of chaos. Xiao hated these kind of nights where the inn was bustling more than usual, and the fact that his only remaining comrade from the war was near him did not comfort him either.
He felt restrained almost rigid at the heavy awkwardness that strangled the room for the past two hours. Neither him or Yanay said a single word since they first reunited and Xiao’s mind was near overheating while trying to think of something to say.
His attempts where rewarded with emptiness and that frustrated him. He hated feeling like a kid, palms almost sweaty because he could not communicate with the only being that experienced the same pain he did, the only being who also had to witness the same horrors of war and was unfortunate enough to live on to tell the story.
Truth be told, they didn’t end on the best terms. Xiao blamed Yanay for years for the cause of his comrades deaths and vice versa, only to realize later that the person to blame was the misleading messenger between them. Yanay didnt in fact given the wrong orders, the messenger did and Xiao in fact did not leave his friends to die because he ran off, he was just too late to help.
Every since the truth emerged the both of them felt uncomfortably awkward next to each other, stuck between feeling a need to apologize and not wanting to open the wound that the sorrowful memories left behind. How easy it would be if stolen glances could be an actual form of communication. Yanay hearts raced while looking at Xiao, she felt a painful voide eating away at her heart while she looked at the broken man, a small fragment of what he used to be, almost like a living memory of the past, a guardian cursed to carry and reopen his old wounds each time he looked around him. Every single fragment of Liyue was a breathing reminder of what happened upon its lands all those years ago.
Yanay managed to find herself a new purpose, or more like the purpose found her. Ningguan found the resentful and nugatory girl and could not help but see potential in her, a woman that only needed someone to open her eyes. Ningguan offered her a job and a promise of a new start, a painfully docile life, she promised she would never have to suffer again and so Yanay followed her. Ningguan’s helping hand helped Yanay wake up, but only by her own will did she only find herself again, patching up her still bleeding old wounds hoping that one day they would stop…but they still bleed to this day.
Thats the difference between Xiao and Yanay is that Xiao accepted it, came to terms with the brokenness his whole existence represents, he got accustomed to the horrible misey that chews and spits him out every time he breathes, so accustomed to it to the point he doesnt feel it anymore. Yanay on the other hand could not, her mind still whispers menacingly to her, each time her eyelids tremble shut, the terrifying truth she had to endure. And each time, she fights it, she refuses it wholeheartedly, her resistance only making everything burn even more and even deeper.
“Im going to sleep” Yanay whispered and Xiao heard it, looking away and only giving a hum as a response. He felt bad, truly, he wish he could speak to her more, to apologize, to tell her that he can be there- but his savage heart wont let him, his prode chaining his mouth shut so he could not get himself hurt more. He tried to justify his actions by saying things such as ‘she wouldn’t care anyway’; ‘it would not help her so whats the point?’ But Xiao forgot to consider how much Yanay cared for such small things, how much she cherished in the back of her rotting soul the fact that someone thought that she deserved an apology.
Yanay laid down, her back facing Xiao, afraid of letting him see her composure falling apart each second she was next to him. And so with one last heavy puff of air her eyes closed. Xiao soon followed laying as far away as possible from her.
Xiao was awoken by the sound of the sheets being tousled around and as he looked in Yanays direction he could only see her figure hunched over. “Why are you awake?” He said in a gruff voice, slight annoyance tainting his tone from being awoken this early in the night. What he saw next made him freeze up, his blood turned cold and eyes froze open. Yanay looked back at him with tears in her wide eyes “Take them away-“ she barely whispered, her voice trembling along with the hands that gripped her sides in a crushing strenght.
Xiao felt like his world crashed down onto him, his veins thinning as he looked the the now seemingly vulnerable woman in front of him. His whole idea of who Yanay is was completely ruined, hes never seen her like this. So fragile and so… brittle- It was almost like someone’s possessed her body.
“You can eat dreams, right? Please-“ the girl cut herself short, her eyes scanning him frantically. She knew she was asking for too much, she felt it so deep in her bones that they felt like they might snap-. “I know im asking for too much but please- take them! Devour them until theres not even a single one that escapes!” Her voice was getting more and more unstable, her gaze running over the room back and forth, avoiding his apparent burning gaze. He just stared for a second, it all felt unreal to him. His breathing got labored and heavy as he saw the marking scene before him. A warrior turned to a broken maiden, looking for a kind of alleviation that only he could bring her.
Yanay took his silence as a refusal, her cheeks burning with embarrassment as she turned back to her hunched position. His gaze felt unbearably heavy on her back, almost quelling her to the point she felt minuscule. “Never mind- it was stupid of me to ask that. Please forget i ever said anything.” There it goes again, the voice Xiao was so accustomed to. He couldn’t help but feel a wave of disappointment wash over him.
Without rationality he reached out to her, his fingers grabbing onto her shoulder and turning her around a bit more harshly than what he meant.
Yanay jumped, her composure falling apart by his own hand. “Tell me what dreams im looking for..” his voice was awfully soft, so soft that it made a small electric string run up Yanay’s spine, a wave of ecstasy running over her body. But once the realization of what he really asked hit her, her eyes turned dark and cold. The kind of eyes Xiao used to have, so he immediately knew what he had to look for. “I will help you but-“ it was now his turn to look away in embarrassment, his face feeling way too scorching all of the sudden.
Yanay stared at him and thought of how she’s never looked at him in this kind of light before, he was absolutely breathtaking and innocent, not a shred of bad ill painted onto his face and so yet again she felt selfish for never trying to understand him- and now- here she is, asking him to do something that he most likely won’t enjoy. “Its gonna be a hell of a lot to take in, not only for you but me as well.” He continued and turned back to look at her. She almost gasped once her eyes met his, shes never seen them so close in order to see the true intensity they held. His gaze pierced trough her with such power that her breathy hitched. She only nodded. Xiao sighed, his fingers now trembling onto her skin knowing that whats about to come wont be able to be erased. Yanay’s perception of him was about to change even more.
“Turn around for me..” his voice was almost a whisper but still so moving that it made goosebumps rise on Yanay’s skin. She eagerly complied, her shoulders relaxing under his vexing touch. As she tuned around the sound around her began to fade, her attention fully concentrated onto Xiao. The next thing she felt was his chest pressed against her back, so tender yet so much pressure. She had to restrain herself from releasing a shuddered gasp once his body connected to hers. Her skin lit up, nerves trembling deliciously. Xiao felt it too, his eyes closing shut as he bit back a groan, his hands rose next to Yanays own hands, almost afraid of touching her thinking that shes gonna break. He was afraid that she’s gonna be repulsed by his touch but nonetheless he placed his hands in front of Yanay’s torso. “Grab onto one of my hands and relax into me.” He said again, his breath gently caressing Yanay’s ear shell.
Yanay’s lucidity began to dissolve, he was so close oh so close that if she turned around she could kiss him…to bad that will never be an option. After regaining a fracture of her rationality back, she complied to his words, her hand gripping one of his while she relaxed fully into him. His other hand gripped her jaw and moved it so that her face was right under his. Her eyes opened and looked at Xiao with such an irresistible innocence that he almost lost it. It was refreshing to see his comrade so complying and so sweetly vulnerable. Xiao leaned his head in, his lips barely above hers, so close that she could feel the heat coming from his face.
“Tell me when you if want me to stop..” he said against her lips before they met. Yanay’s heart felt like it was imploding, beating so hard and fast that it almost punched trough her ribcage but what came next took Yanay by surprise even more. Her limbs started to feel like putty, so soft and light. While her mind started to become intoxicated and slow, she wasn’t thinking of anything but Xiao and the overwhelmingly pleasurable feeling that started to spread inside her. It almost felt like and aphrodisiac, her body disconnecting from her mind, detaching so much that it almost felt like another person possessing her body. Xiao felt the affects too, his hand gripping Yanay’s jaw harder as he leaned his head in more, deepening the kiss, his tongue running hungrily over hers. While he knew that he was supposed to focus only on devouring Yanay’s horrible nightmares he couldn’t help but indulge in the sweet release that she was, a breath of fresh air. He wanted to claim her, to make her heal him with just her presence and maybe he could help her by erasing every parasitic nightmare that plagued her thoughts every night, but that wouldn’t be healthy and he knew it.
Yanay tried so hard to grip onto her lucidity but the more she tried the damned thing ran further and further away. Her flesh felt like smoldering cinder while her stomach felt like a void, it felt like feathers were running over her skin. She was so overwhelmed that she almost passed out from the electrifying feeling that he induced. Xiaos hand left hers and opted for her waist, digging his fingers in and dragging her torso impossibly closer to his. She was so delicious that it drove him mad, forget the damned nightmares he wanted to devour her. To rip her ignorant facade apart and watch her true face show itself from the ruins that he alone tore down.
His hunger was cut short when he finally reached the nightmares he was looking for and they were exactly as he expected. Corpses rotting on the muddy field while tired soldiers pushed on whith their last breath, people screaming and crying and the worst of all, the feeling of being helpless, powerless, the feeling of having to watch knowing you cant change a god damn thing.
He couldnt stand looking at the dreadfully realistic replicas of the past so he started tearing them down, devouring the from the most affecting ones to the lesser. He tore them down with each movemnt of his lips against hers and she couldnt have been more grateful. Suddenly his kisses turned from exhilarating to melting. His movements so soft and tender that Yanay felt like she was about to burst. She never realized how much she craved this feeling before and now- now she couldnt get enough of it, she was frightened that if he touched her like that one more time shed forever be bound to him, craving him each second of her existence. Her hand slowly moved to the nape of his neck, softly caressing his satin like hair.
Xiao couldnt do anything but melt under her gentle touch, his mind finally going at ease after all of these tormenting years he had to indure all alone. Afraid as if shed disappear from his desperate clutch, he held her closer, relishing into this intoxicatingly serene moment. Oh how he truly wished they could stay like this more…
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howdoyousleep3 · 4 years
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God, so I've been thinking all day about this scenario with Daddy!Steve and sweet Baby!Bucky that live on a nice farm. And one day they go out in the fields and Bucky is all happy and so is Steve and they start fooling around so Steve just takes his sweet baby right there on the prickly green grass and colorful flowers and fucks him under the sun. And it's hot and sweet and steve whispers filth in Bucky's ear and ughhh I want to write it but I don't have time and you'd do it 100 times better ❤️
👀😍👀😍👀😍
I want this written out in detailed form but I don’t have time. 😭 Look at you thinking of me! Here are some things that come to my mind right away:
Bucky would have chickens and he’d love on them and Steve would be so proud of his tomato plants. Just had to get that out there, haha.
I love the idea of them having a little picnic outside for lunch one day, a mild day with a breeze, sun high above them
Steve has been hard at work outside all morning, is a little dirty, a little sweaty, makes Bucky wanna nibble at his bearded jawline and dig his fingers in his golden hair that’s in need of a cut
Bucky smells like fruit, always sweet somehow, and him slowly eating strawberries turns into one of the most erotic things Steve has ever witnessed
They want to go hard and fast but things end up rough and slow, Steve handing Bucky strawberry after strawberry to eat, ends up sucking on his fingers when things get a little juicy 
Oh boy, the deep noises Farmer Steve would make watching Bucky and holding himself back, the “C’mere, sugar” he’d purr out while pulling Bucky into his lap, leaning back against a tree
Bucky loves the way this Steve grabs him and pushes him and pulls him, loves how small he makes him feel, loves how his pet names and coos make him feel sweet, make him want to mewl and bat his eyelashes 
Hell yes to a little makeout session that gets handsy quickly, little sighs and rolls of the hips, sucking on tongues and nipping at chins and necks
Can you imagine how pretty Bucky would look between Daddy’s legs, sucking him off in the grass, Steve tellin’ him to look up, running his big fingers through Bucky’s soft hair 
We know goddamn well Steve would absolutely love to eat Bucky out in the grass but Bucky would throw a little fit about taking his pants off, getting naked outside 
Steve would go to do it for him, would grab at his waist and pull at his zipper, tell him to hush and that he knows the word he can use to make it stop, knows Bucky just wants to be a brat
I’m so torn between Bucky being on his front, a little arch in his back, or on his back so Steve can make him hold his legs to his chest. I think Steve would want him on his back but there’s something about being out in nature that would make Steve feel a little feral
So front it is, which is okay with Bucky because he’s a little slut for Daddy eating his ass from behind, makes the most pathetic noises that rile Steve up, humps back into Daddy’s face and god bless ‘im, Steve loves it
Steve fingers him open slowly, uses a packet of lube he kept in his pocket, Bucky breathing out that he’s a “dirty old pervert” for keeping it on him, gets a bite to an ass cheek for his lip 
Bucky tells Daddy to stop after two fingers, wants it to hurt a little, wants to feel it later, and Steve’s entire body thrums with pent up arousal, molten in his core, in his cock, allows less prep slide this time 
And goddamn it’s so fucking good, Bucky so tight and Steve so big, they both feel a little like animals, are fucking like some right there in the grass, the same grass that Bucky grips onto and rips at while Steve fucks into him 
Daddy fucks him so slowly, just grinds and thrusts that make Bucky’s teeth ache, makes him whimper and sob, Steve’s words pressed tight into his ear, a hand under his chin
“Shit, baby love y’feel so good, boy pussy so tight for Daddy, ain’t it? Yeah? All for me, all sugary fuckin’ sweet for Daddy? Mmm, goddamn, yeah it is.” 
Steve would want to come watching Bucky’s face though, wants to see his baby come, wants to watch it happen 
Bucky would hiccup when Steve slides inside again, whines when Daddy demands he hook his knees to his chest, bends over Bucky and fucks into him like he owns him
The eye contact, the touches, Steve placing his hands on either side of Bucky’s neck, Bucky tilting his head back and quietly asking for kisses, gripping at Daddy’s ass, feels the muscles twitch and move
They wouldn’t even realize they were slightly scooting across the grass, thrusts slow and gutting, but powerful nonetheless, Bucky whimpering with each one, mouth slack, Steve taking every opportunity to lick into it
When Bucky’s noises grow a little more frantic, a little higher in pitch in the back of his throat, Steve would groan, would nod his head and tell his honey to come on his cock, would cup his ass in one hand and dig his fingers into chestnut hair with the other 
Bucky doesn’t have to worry about anyone hearing him when he comes, can be as loud as he wants to, can squeal Steve’s name as his thighs shake as loud as he wants to 
This also means that he can beg for Daddy’s come as loud as he wants to, can beg Daddy to fill his boy pussy up, can mewl about how hungry he is for it
And it makes Steve growl when he comes, makes the punched-out noise tumble onto Bucky’s lips, makes him bite at Bucky’s shoulders, his lips
Mmmm, sunny lovebugs would soak in the afterglow and the soft touches and giggles at the ridiculousness of the situation they’ve found themselves in, the giggles when Steve grabs for a strawberry to slip between Bucky’s lips...
LOL @me for thinking this would be short, wtf. 😘😘😘
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vitanes · 5 years
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Tumblr media
say it’s okay when it’s not
chapter 15: truth or dare
Lucas makes peace with himself, finally learns the whole truth about Eliott and realises that family is all the friends we’ve made along the way. Oh, and also gets a boy.
(a/n: so we’ve reached the end of this story. if anyone had told me id write over 80k words long story like a half year ago i wouldnt believe them but here i am. before writing for skam france, i had a long break but this show made me fall back in love with writing and no matter how detached i am from the series now, ill be always grateful for that. i want to thank every single person who’s ever liked, reblogged, commented or sent me an ask regarding the fic. im happy i could make you all feel something with my words thats my main goal as a writer. anyways, enough sappiness! enjoy the last part!)
Lucas knows that punching a guy when he isn’t alone is not the brightest idea, but it’s too late to think about it when his knuckles have already caused the damage. Buzzing with adrenaline, Lucas looks towards Tom. He’s backed away a few steps and is currently clutching onto his face. There’s blood running down from his nose.
There’s a wave of satisfaction hitting Lucas from all sides and it last exactly ten seconds before Tom’s friends are on him. One of them is holding Lucas by his shoulders while the other is glaring at him, coming way too close for Lucas’ liking.
He gulps, trying his best to maintain eye contact.  He’s been crushed before because of how weak he was but this time he won’t let them hurt him without a fight. Not when he has every right to be furious in this situation.
The guy watches Lucas carefully, his eyes narrowed and after a few beats of silence, nods at the boy holding Lucas back. Much to Lucas’ surprise, he releases him.
“We don’t want trouble,” one of them says, looking meaningfully at all the people around them. Lucas follows his gaze and sighs. He was genuinely prepared to get beaten up again. Especially that they seemed like they wouldn’t care about the consequences.
But Lucas is still so full of anguish that he doesn’t know what to do with. He curls his fingers up into fists.
“I can’t let him get away with it,” Lucas grits out, his eyes downcast. They have no fucking idea what kind of hell he’s gone through because of Tom.
The boys look at each other, their faces troubled and then back to him. They still seem ready to stop Lucas from surging towards Tom. He can’t do anything in this case and it’s tearing him apart.
“Then don’t, but fighting won’t get you anywhere,” says the one that’s been previously holding Lucas. Look at them. Altruists.
Even when he wants to and has the occasion to get his revenge, Lucas can’t. And it’s unfair, isn’t it? He should be able to show Tom at least an ounce of the pain that was served to Lucas. After so many months, Lucas should be allowed to get back at him. But all he can do is stand there, helpless and trembling while they walk away, shielding Tom from him. That’s fucked up.
Once they’re out of sight, Lucas heaves out a deep breath and with it, the tears he’s been holding back start running down his cheeks. He’s crying out of frustration and anger because there’s no other way for those emotions to leave him. He can’t punch anyone or scream so all that’s left is crying. Right in the middle of the pavement, surrounded by people. Complete strangers that won’t even spare him a glance. Alone in his pain.
But he’s not alone, is he?
Lucas wipes his face with his sleeve and sniffs. There are people out there that care, that have his back no matter what. That’s what he’s learnt over the course of the last few months. No matter how much darkness is surrounding him, how lost he is, Lucas will find a way home.
Lucas is going to survive with the help of his friends, the family he’s made along the way. He’s been shown time and time again that he doesn’t have to face everything by himself.
That’s why he heads to the flat and when Mika sees the look on his face he doesn’t question Lucas reaching out for him.
Lucas hasn’t stopped fighting, it’s merely a break. He will go to the police tomorrow, he will handle everything. But now he’s bone-tired.
With no words said, Mika wraps his arms around Lucas and lets him rest.
“I know who blackmailed me,” Lucas mumbles into Mika’s shoulder and feels him tense.
“You do?” Mika asks, his voice breathy.
Lucas nods. “Is everyone in the living room?” Lucas can hear some muted noises but he isn’t sure whether it’s the girls or the TV.
“Yeah,” Mika lets out.
Lucas pulls away. “I want them to know, too,” he says. He’s gotten everyone too involved for him to keep it secret. At this point, he owes his friends that much.
“Of course,” Mika replies and nudges Lucas forward.
They enter the living room and their expressions must be rather grim because both Manon and Lisa stop chatting upon seeing them.
“Hi,” Lucas says, waving at them weakly before sitting down on the couch, next to Manon. Mika chooses his other side while Lisa is sitting comfortably in an armchair. “I found out who the blackmailer is. By accident.” He looks down on his hands. His right one still has some signs of what he’s done to it, but he long stopped bandaging it. Some fingers are a bit crooked, though.
“What?” Lisa asks.
“Who is it?” Manon sits up straighter.
Lucas snorts. “It’s a guy Yann and I were buying weed from. Last year. He just,” he shrugs, “wanted money for drugs. He got the pictures from someone else’s phone.” Lucas briefly glances at Manon, but she seems completely oblivious to it. So Daphne hasn’t said anything. Fine, he’s not going to, either. He has no energy to deal with this. “He didn’t have any ulterior motives. Fuck, he didn’t even plan to do it in the first place. I don’t…” he stops and drags a hand down his face. “…I don’t know if I’d rather have it be someone else, someone who hated me than this. It’s so fucking baffling that it wasn’t personal and yet I’ve been completely fucked over.” He pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, letting out a shuddering breath.
Manon rests a hand on his shoulder and squeezes.
“This dude is completely fucked up. How could he?” Lisa asks no one in particular.
“At least now you can rest. You know the whole truth,” Manon says, her voice calm even though Lucas can feel through his shirt that her hand is shaking.
“Yeah, I– I feel slightly lighter. But I can’t fucking do anything and it’s killing me. It’s like I’m about to explode,” Lucas confesses, putting his hand down on his knee.
Mika throws an arm over his shoulders and pulls him to his side.
“How about we go to the gym?” he suggests out of nowhere and when none of them say anything, he huffs. “It could help Lucas. It’s better if he doesn’t bottle it all up,” Mika reasons. Well, if he’s putting it that way.
Lisa opens her mouth to say something, but Mika beats her to it.
“Like a family activity?” he offers. They can’t say no to that, can they?
 ***
 Going to the gym helps. Lucas was doubtful at first, but after two hours of intense exercise, his mind is much clearer. With his whole body aching and sweaty, he no longer wants to go out there and fight Tom. All he is craving is a shower and a nap.
Everything else will come later.
 ***
 “I can’t fucking believe it was Tom,” Yann spits out, shaking his head. “What a fucking dick,” he adds.
Lucas has gone to the police and told them everything. He was assured they’d take care of everything and contact him sooner or later. It didn’t satisfy him a lot. He doesn’t think he’ll be truly satisfied until Tom faces real repercussions. And the police’s vague affirmations don’t tamper down his impatience. So he called Yann.
He told him the exact same story as he recalled to his flatmates, with maybe more details and Yann’s been cussing Tom out for the past ten minutes.
“Yeah, Daphne must have bumped into him, asked to call Imane and that’s how he got the pictures,” Lucas says in a detached tone.
“Damn. What now?”
Lucas shrugs. “I was told to wait. Not sure I can do it any longer but what other choice do I have?”
“I’m still so shocked you found out by simply overhearing. Like? How’s that even possible?” Yann asks, grimacing.
“I know, right? That’s what I mean when I say that coincidences don’t exist,” Lucas replies, looking straight ahead. He hides his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “But you know what?” He gazes up at Yann to find him already looking back. “I’m so fucking glad I know. It’s been gnawing at me for so long and I thought I’d never find out. I had no idea where to look, there were nearly no clues. I can finally focus on other things.” It’s awful that he can’t seek the revenge out on his own, sure, but simply knowing gives him more peace than anything. There are still so many things, issues that he has to work through and he bets it’ll be a long process. Having fewer things on his plate is beyond helpful.
Lucas can heal and grow, take his time for as long as he needs to without having this at the back of his mind all the time. He can push forward with no more secrets holding him back.
“You’re so strong and I’m proud of you, you know?” Yann says fondly and bumps his shoulder against Lucas’. Lucas smiles under his nose.
“Thank you. I have no idea where I’d be right now without you,” he admits in a small voice. Yann has been nothing but giving and Lucas will try to repay his kindness for the rest of their lives.
“I’m your best friend, aren’t I? I’m not going anywhere. I love you lots,” Yann says with an audible smile in his voice.
Lucas feels warm.
“I love you, too,” he replies, so fucking grateful for having Yann in his life. In a way, Lucas thinks, he saved his life.
Yann is his anchor, his safe place and Lucas is sure that he’d drown without him. He can only hope that Yann feels the same.
 ***
 By Monday, Lucas has already talked with his friends and mom about the blackmailer. There’s only one person that doesn’t know and it’s Eliott. Truth be told, Lucas didn’t want to bother him with the news. He has no idea how Eliott is currently doing and he doesn’t want to force him into unwanted interactions. The time to tell him will come.
His friends have been all kinds of shocked and surprised, but the people who personally met Tom even more so. Emma briefly wanted to kill him and Yann shared the sentiment. But everyone agreed that it was about time. Or at least, mostly everyone. Lucas doesn’t know and has no intention of finding out what Daphne thinks about it.
“How do you feel?”
Lucas looks at Imane. “Better than in a long time,” he admits. She smiles at him.
They are going to the library, having decided to study together earlier. Lucas has expected questions like this, but he isn’t annoyed. He no longer has to hide his true feelings, he’s not burdened. And Imane asking him about his well-being means that she cares.
It’s funny to think that before all this mess started, Lucas and Imane were only friends by association. Merely greeted each other in hallways. In the span of the last few months, everything has changed and as of now, she’s one of his closest friends. An unexpected development in Lucas’ life.
He lost so much but he also gained a lot. And he’s not sure he deserves all of that, but he’s learning to accept good things nevertheless.
Imane is one of those people whose presence you want to keep around. Lucas doesn’t really know how to explain it and maybe he doesn’t have to. Perhaps, he can be simply happy about the fact that Imane wants him around, too. He shouldn’t question it. She’s a good person and an amazing friend. She’s both tough and soft as well as incredibly smart. Lucas admires her and can proudly call himself her friend.
“Good. You can try to catch up to me when it comes to grades,” she teases.
She’s also honest.
Lucas snorts and looks at her. “Are you sure you want that? I don’t want to make you sad,” he retorts, adjusting his backpack.
Imane rolls her eyes. “You wish. I just wanted to be nice. We both know you could never get on my level,” she states matter-of-factly.
“Watch me. The school year isn’t ov–“
Imane stops abruptly and Lucas glances at her in surprise. Her brows are drawn together and he follows her gaze.
Daphne is standing in their way. They look at her in confusion and mild irritation in Imane’s case. Lucas notices that she’s anxiously fidgeting in place. She must have followed them up until now.
“Do you want something?” Imane asks and her voice is devoid of the earlier playfulness. Lucas only now sees the strain Daphne’s acting made on the girls’ friendship. Imane has never been this cold towards her before.
“Can we talk for a minute? In private?” Daphne asks, staring at Lucas.
God, the audacity.
“No, I’m good here. If you have anything to say, say it,” Lucas tells her. He almost pities her. Almost.
“I just wanted to ask you if there was any way I could make what I did up to you. I know it was wrong, but I was hoping I could fix it somehow,” Daphne replies, holding tightly onto the strap of her bag.
“Are you for real?” Imane mutters under her breath.
The thing is, Lucas knows Daphne had no ill intentions and the guilt must be eating at her right now. Rightfully so. He’s aware that she never wanted to hurt him, but still. He can’t find it in himself to forgive so easily. Maybe if she had come immediately after the pictures were leaked, but as the things are at the moment, Lucas doesn’t even want to talk with her.
“How about you finally tell other people?” he says which instantly makes her clamp her mouth shut. “Besides, the only way you could make it up to me would be if you invented the time machine. Can you do that? Can you do that, Daphne?” Lucas asks and he can feel himself getting worked up, but he’s unable to stop. “We won’t be friends anytime soon. But if it only bothers you because you feel guilty, then just forget about it. I don’t care anymore. Let’s say you’re forgiven or whatever,” he adds, barely managing to keep his voice calm.
Daphne is watching him with her eyes wide open and her chin wobbling. For a brief moment, Lucas wonders whether he wasn’t too harsh, but it all disappears when he thinks of all the months he was hurting because of what Daphne did.
Imane places her hand on Lucas’ forearm and he’s so grateful. Her touch is grounding.
“Be happy we haven’t told everyone. We are giving you a chance to at least slightly redeem yourself,” Imane says. She doesn’t let Daphne add anything as her grip on Lucas’ arm tightens and she starts dragging him in the opposite direction. Though, Daphne seems speechless anyway.
“But what about studying?” Lucas asks when she eventually lets go of him.
“Let’s get a cookie first,” Imane replies, trying to smile at him, but failing miserably.
Lucas purses his lips and sighs. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault your friendship is so fucked up.”
She glares at him. “She did the bad thing. It’s not your fault, okay? None of it is. I can’t stand with her after that. I’m just upset.” She shrugs one of her shoulders.
Lucas opens his mouth to say something when his phone buzzes. Imane seems to be deep in thought so he decides to check the message.
When he sees who texted him, his heart flutters excitedly in his chest, Daphne forgotten.
 can we meet tomorrow? i want to talk with you
 Lucas quickly types out a response, agreeing to the meeting and locks his phone. God, it’s been so long since he last heard from Eliott.
Imane nudges him and when he sends her a quizzical look, she asks, “What are you grinning about?”
“It’s Eliott. He wants to meet with me,” Lucas says, feeling his cheeks hurt from how much he’s smiling. Huh, so that’s how it feels when you like someone and you’re aware of it? Crazy.
Mostly, he missed Eliott and was worried. So he supposes, there are more reasons for his excitation than only his crush. Eliott is his friend first and foremost. The romantic attraction is just an addition.
“How’s he?”  
“We’ll find out,” Lucas says, wishing tomorrow could come sooner.
 ***
 When Lucas approaches the gate, it’s already open. He only has to slightly push it forward and the abandoned park comes into sight. He enters the place and for a moment the time stills. He revels in the way the wind is blowing subtly at the leaves. Even the air feels different here.
Eliott told him to come and see him at the tunnel he once showed Lucas. Looking around, Lucas remembers how Eliott told him he’d never brought anyone here before. That Lucas was first and maybe, just maybe, it was one of the signs that Eliott liked him, but Lucas was completely blind to it. You don’t bring a random friend to a place that’s special to you.
Lucas’ palms get significantly sweatier as he comes closer to the tunnel. Eliott likes to come here when he wants to be alone and yet, he once again invited Lucas to join him. Perhaps he feels safer in these surroundings.
Lucas reaches the tunnel and it takes him a moment, but when he eventually notices Eliott sitting against one of the walls, he lets out a loud sigh. Eliott turns his head towards him and Lucas could swear he sees a shadow of a smile on his face.
Before saying anything, he takes his steps to Eliott and plops down next to him, brushing their shoulders in the process.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” Eliott replies, his voice a little uncertain. “Sorry I dragged you here. I just had to get away from my flat or I’d have lost my mind,” he explains apologetically.
Lucas nudges him playfully in the side. “No need to be sorry. It’s okay. I like it here. I don’t care about the place as long as I get to see you,” he admits, glancing down at his lap. He shouldn’t be saying things like that.
Eliott only snorts under his nose and sags against the wall. He seems tired. If it weren’t for the darkness, Lucas would probably see the bags under his eyes.
“Anything happen when I was out?” Eliott asks. Lucas thinks for a long moment. He can’t really say that he finally realised his feelings for Eliott after like months. So he goes for the only other thing he can think of.
“I caught the blackmailer.”
Eliott gasps subtly. “Oh. Is that so?”
Lucas tells him the whole story. He’d expect himself to get tired by now, since he recalled those events to so many people, but with Eliott it’s fine. Like always.  
“I guess fate decided it was the time.”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Lucas says, glad that someone has finally seen his point.
What follows is a bit of a meaningless back and forth before Eliott asks the big question, “You’ve met Lucille, right?”
Lucas frowns. He isn’t very keen on talking about her, but he supposes it’s only the beginning of what Eliott wants to discuss. “Yeah.”
“It’s almost like she moved in with me. I hate that my parents told her to take care of me as if we didn’t break up. I can’t stand all of them. I know they mean well, but God seeing your ex without going through depression sucks enough,” Eliott rambles on, his voice monotone. “I already said that I’m feeling better, but no, of course, she still comes. At this rate I’m afraid she’s gonna ask to get back together,” he continues, letting his head slide to the side, right to Lucas’ shoulder. Lucas has probably uncomfortable shoulders, but it’s too late, Eliott is already propped up there.
“And will you? Get back together?” Lucas asks, anxious. Eliott shifts and Lucas can feel his eyes looking up at him.
“You know I won’t,” Eliott says calmly and the weight of his words makes Lucas realise just how close they are right now. “About that. I wanted to say sorry for being an asshole to you last time. I was all over the place. Embarrassed because of everything I did during, you know, being manic. I went out of my way to remind you of my feelings. It all just hit me and I lashed out on you. I was scared you’d hate me. So yeah, I’m sorry.” His voice is quiet, but in the tunnel, Lucas can hear every single word clearly. Eliott still seems scared. And ashamed.
“It’s okay. Nothing you did made me feel uncomfortable.” Quite the opposite. “And I could never hate you for that. Besides, I should have given you more time. You weren’t ready to talk, I can’t blame you for your reaction,” Lucas says reassuringly. All this time, he was angry at himself for overwhelming Eliott. There hasn’t even been a moment in which Lucas had considered thinking badly of Eliott.
“Yeah, but I’m bi– bipolar, not brainless. I should know when to shut up. It’s not an excuse to be a dick,” Eliott mutters and maybe he’s right. Maybe they both made some mistakes. It’s all in the past, though. “I just really wish you had found out in another way and not when it was out of my control,” he whispers and sighs.
“Then why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I wasn’t ready. I don’t like that part of myself. It’s hard for me to talk about and I didn’t want you to look at me differently. I was gonna tell you, but I kept putting it off because everything was so good and I finally felt happy. I thought that maybe… maybe it wouldn’t happen again,” Eliott says and nuzzles his face against Lucas’ shoulder. He seems so fucking sad. Lucas wishes he could do something to help him. Make him feel better.
“You stopped taking your meds,” Lucas states, remembering what Eliott’s parents said. He feels him nodding.
“I felt too happy,” Eliott admits. They sit there quietly for a few moments, both at a loss of words.
Lucas doesn’t really know what he could possibly say in this situation. He doesn’t think there is anything that he could think of. He’s never been good at that sort of stuff. And it doesn’t look like Eliott wants him to say anything. More like he wants him to listen and understand.
“Remember when I told you about everything that happened at my old school?” Lucas hums. “I skipped out on some things. I, um– I had my first episode back then. It was much worse than what you’ve seen. Yeah, I was in love with one of my best friends, but it got out because I kissed him in front of everyone when I was in the middle of being manic. He rejected me and then everything went to shit even more. I was losing it and people at my school were awful. I’ve done so many things. And after all that, I crashed. I crashed so badly I wouldn’t leave my room for weeks. I missed my exams because of that. And I…“ he pauses to take a deep inhale. He sounds choked up. “…I was so deep in that dark place I tried to… tried to kill myself.” Lucas’ breath hitches in his throat. He feels Eliott trembling against him. Lucas wants to tell him that he doesn’t have to go further, but Eliott isn’t finished yet.
“They saved me and then I spent over two months in a hospital. That’s when I got diagnosed. When I was out of there, about to repeat the year, some of my friends tried to reach out to me but I pushed them away. I wasn’t happy with Lucille. And as the first semester progressed, I had another episode. Less violent than the first one. After that, I decided to change schools. Start fresh and stop being regarded as crazy by everyone. I really hoped it’d be– it’d be different,” Eliott admits, his voice breaking halfway through. Lucas doesn’t look towards him, afraid that he might see him crying. He wouldn’t be able to hold back his own tears if that was the case.
“It is different. We won’t leave you. And no one at school knows,” Lucas says in hopes that it will make Eliott feel a tiny bit better. “Also don’t worry, we’re not going to start treating you like a toddler. But we’re going to support you and be there for you.” Lucas is sure of this. He’s not alone and he won’t Eliott be, either.” Thank you for telling me all of this. Thank you for… for trusting me enough.”
“Thank you for listening,” Eliott murmurs, a little bit strained. He’s fighting so hard not to break down right here, on Lucas and Lucas wishes there was a way for him to convey that it’s alright. That he doesn’t have to hide anymore. But he isn’t sure Eliott would appreciate that right now. He probably doesn’t want anyone pointing his weaknesses out. Not after everything that he’s been through lately. So this time, Lucas will let him be. Patience and baby steps.
He looks down again. Their hands are so close to one another. If only Lucas moved his a couple of centimetres to the left, he’d cover Eliott’s palm. He glances then at Eliott’s face and sees that he’s closed his eyes. He looks drained.
It’s not the time for Lucas to be daring. There will be another chance. They’re okay as they are.
 ***
 Lucas keeps staring at the empty chair across from him. He knows it won’t magically make Eliott appear, but one can wish. Eliott still isn’t feeling well enough to come to school, but he said he might be back next week and that’s what Lucas is holding onto. It doesn’t change the fact that the table feels empty without him.
It’s funny to think that some time ago he’d feel overjoyed every time Eliott skipped school and there were only four of them. And now he’s moping. Oh, how the tables have turned. Lucas would even hope for Eliott not to come sometimes. Which, in perspective makes him feel guilty. Eliott tends to skip school on his bad days. So every time Lucas was happy that he had his friends all to himself, Eliott was being consumed by his own mind. Sweet.
Lucas sighs to himself, dragging a fork over his plate.
“Dude, it’s like the tenth time you sighed in the last few minutes,” Basile points out to which Lucas only shrugs.
“Let him be. He’s sulking,” Yann says, barking out a laugh. He’s the only one knowing about Lucas’ recent epiphany and the asshole is having great fun with it.
“Why are you sulking?” Arthur asks, poking Lucas in the forearm.
“Do you remember when you asked me whether I had a crush on Eliott?” Lucas mumbles under his nose.
Arthur nods, squinting his eyes. “Yeah?” Lucas looks at him pointedly and then Arthur gasps. “No way,” he lets out.
“Yes way,” Yann teases. Lucas scowls at him and kicks him under the table. Basile yelps and Lucas figures out he missed.
“How long? What?! When?!” Arthur exclaims and Lucas shushes him when too many people look their way.
“I don’t know how long. It hit me last week,” Lucas explains.
“Unbelievable,” Basile lets out, shaking his head. “All Eliott had to do was to have an episode. Bravo, Lucas, bravo.”
“Fuck you,” Lucas says, but there’s no bite in his voice. He knows he’s an idiot. In his defense, internalised homophobia is a bitch to deal with and repressing things is a way to go. He still has moments when he denies his feelings or thinks that he’s disgusting for liking Eliott. He doesn’t even want to think about the turmoil he’d be going through now if Eliott didn’t reciprocate this crush.
“And you know what’s even better? Eliott likes him back,” Yann singsongs with a shit-eating grin.
“He does?!” Basile asks in disbelief.
“He does,” Arthur simply states, unlocking his phone.
Lucas huffs. “First of all, don’t talk about this! It’s confidential and he isn’t even here. And second of all, you,” he points at Arthur who purses his lips into a thin line, “you knew?”
“Yes. I knew. Why do you think we kissed that one time? We were both sad because of our crushes and Eliott told me back then it was you,” he explains, scrolling down some website.
“Then why did you ask me if we were together?”
Arthur lets out an exasperated sigh. “Because he told me months ago, drunk. We never really talked about it again. You could have gotten together in the meantime.” He shrugs nonchalantly. Well, he does have a point. “There’s a party on Friday. Are we going?” Arthur changes the topic. He looks up at them expectantly.
They glance at one another and then collectively nod. It’s been some time since they last went to a party. And the other time they wanted to get some relax, it didn’t exactly work out.
Yann nudges Lucas in the elbow. “Do you think you could get Eliott to come?”
Well, he can try.
 ***
 Lucas was pretty sure Eliott would immediately decline but turns out that convincing him to go with them was much easier than expected. Of course, he said he wouldn’t drink and would be there only for a short time, just to see all of them after almost two weeks. All of which Lucas understands.
They agreed that Lucas would come and pick him up before the party, since Eliott would feel too anxious to go by himself.
It’s a bit earlier than he was supposed to arrive, but Lucas thinks that Eliott will forgive him as he knocks on the door to his flat. It takes a good minute for the doorknob to move and the door to open. Lucas partly expects to see Lucille facing him so he lets out a breath of relief when it’s Eliott.
His hair is damp and his clothes are disheveled. He isn’t ready to go out yet and Lucas has enough decency to murmur, “Sorry for being this early,” before Eliott ushers him in.
“It’s fine. You can sit wherever I’ll go get ready,” Eliott says, sending his way a nervous smile.
Lucas watches him disappear in the direction of his bedroom. Eliott seems a bit shaky. Maybe he doesn’t really want to go to the party? But what can Lucas do, though? Eliott is a big boy and he won’t baby him. Lucas won’t act like Eliott’s parents and Lucille. After all, Eliott should know his limits.
With that in mind, Lucas goes to the living room and settles on the couch. He hears Eliott going around the flat, his steps loud in the silence of the walls.
Lucas looks out of the window and says, “Oh, fuck,” just as Eliott passes by the living room.
He sticks his head into the room, gazing at Lucas in confusion.
“It started raining,” Lucas mutters in the same exact moment a thunderbolt cuts through the sky.
When the loud thundering sound can be heard, they lock their eyes and Eliott says, “Fuck indeed.”
They smile at each other.
Lucas looks at Eliott since he finally has a clear sight of him and notices that his cheeks are a bit sunken and there sure are purple bags under his eyes. He is worn down and there is no beating around it.
“You don’t want to go to the party,” Lucas states instead of asking. Eliott sighs, looking down and it’s enough of an answer. The rain is rhythmically hitting the windows and it’s gradually getting darker. As yet another thunderbolt lights up the room, Lucas continues, “We could use it as an excuse and not go. We can hang out together at any other time.”
Eliott glances up at him, biting down on his bottom lip. “I’d like that,” he admits quietly.
Lucas grins towards him, feeling his heart racing. He likes this scenario better as well.
They both jump when there’s an especially loud clap of thunder and right after that the lights go out.
Lucas can only see the glint of Eliott’s eyes.
“Oh, great.” He chuckles nervously. There are a few seconds of silence and then Eliott turns the flashlight in his phone on. It doesn’t do much since they’re pretty much surrounded by darkness at this point, but it’s helpful either way.
Eliott moves towards the couch and then sits down next to Lucas. They stay in silence, letting the thunder outside fill it. It’s not exactly pleasant, considering the fact they keep flinching and jumping every few seconds. Lucas would really like to hold hands right now. But it’s not like he’s going to ask, right?
“I’m a bit scared,” he admits and feels Eliott turning his head towards him.
“Me too,” Eliott whispers when everything is lit up again.
Lucas hums thoughtfully. “Let’s play something so we can get distracted,” he suggests, breathing out evenly.
“Okay.”
“Truth or dare?”
“Sure,” Eliott agrees. “So what do you choose?”
Lucas is not about to do some things when it’s dark everywhere around them so he replies, “Truth.”
“Hmm. When was the last time you wet your pants?”
Lucas makes a face. “Come on, dude. Seriously?” He groans and closes his eyes. “I was fourteen. I was watching some dumb horror,” Lucas confesses. He doesn’t even remember what the movie was about, but it sure as fuck gave him a couple of sleepless nights. Eliott snorts. “Truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
“Have you,” Lucas pauses, biting the inside of his cheek. “Have you ever been with a boy?” He can feel himself blushing as he says those words.
“Yeah, I have,” Eliott replies. He doesn’t say who or when it was, which is partly disappointing as it is relieving.
They take turns in asking each other questions throughout the thunder going on outside. Neither of them chooses dare, not wanting to move anywhere. They ask each other gross and mostly trivial questions. It’s not the time to go deeper, to unpack their traumas and they’re aware of that. They laugh and teases each other, and by the time the thunder is almost gone, they’ve moved so much closer to each other that their sides are touching. They don’t comment on the fact their hands are brushing and Eliott’s index finger keeps tracing the back of Lucas’ knuckles. Their words are hushed whispers and each time one of them says something, the other has to lean closer.
Something has shifted in the span of the last few minutes or hours; Lucas doesn’t really know how much time passed.
One wouldn’t consider asking someone whether they’ve ever eaten boogers romantic, but within the context, Lucas thinks it’s the most romantic setting he’s ever been in.
“Truth or dare?” Eliott asks, staring at the side of Lucas’ face.
Lucas turns his head for the first time ever since they’ve started this game. Their faces have never been this close.
“Truth,” he mouths, knowing that Eliott will hear him anyway.
Eliott gazes at him for a long moment, searching for something and he must find what he’s been looking for because he asks, “Do you like someone?”
Lucas swallows, his eyes falling down to Eliott’s mouth and quickly back up to his eyes. “Yeah,” he breathes out, shifting his body closer. “Truth or dare?”
Eliott looks over Lucas’ face and his index fingers move up to his wrist. “Dare.”
The only thing that Lucas can hear is the thump-thump of his heart. He parts his lips.
“Kiss me.”
 ***
5 MONTHS LATER
  Lucas isn’t drunk. This time, he truly isn’t. He might have had a beer, but he isn’t looking forward to getting wasted any time soon.
He’s at a party, with his friends. He’s having fun and he doesn’t need unhealthy coping mechanisms to stay afloat.
The guys are talking about how they’ve been spending their summer. Yann mentions his part-time job, Arthur gushes about the girl he’s been flirting with and Basile recalls the two weeks his family spent in Greece. Lucas attentively listens to their words, dropping something from himself every few sentences.
His eyes keep straying over to Eliott, who’s standing in the corner of the room, chatting with Imane, but glancing time and time again towards Lucas.
A couple of months ago Lucas wouldn’t grin at a boy the way he does now. But a couple of months ago he didn’t have a boyfriend either.
The process of accepting, embracing his sexuality has been difficult. Trial and error, despite the support from everyone around and having started dating Eliott. It’s okay, though, because Lucas has learnt that he needs to do things slowly, be patient and gentle with himself. He’s currently in the best place he’s ever been. Things around him have changed and his way of thinking is far from the one he had in the past.
Lucas is healing. Sure, there are still nights he wakes up from nightmares of being beaten up or he can’t sleep altogether. He doesn’t have enough bravery to march in the Pride Parade, yet, but he hopes that next year he will find it in himself. There are moments he hates this part of himself and agonises over the fact he can’t change it.
Then again, there are times when he loves who he is becoming, loves being gay and lets himself enjoy the life he has.
It’s similar for Eliott. He wasn’t cured, there are still awful days he has to go through, they fight sometimes over stupid things. They work through their issues together, sometimes ending up hurting each other. But at the end of the day, it’s all worth it. Lucas can’t imagine anyone else by his side and no matter how many doubts he has, he knows Eliott feels the same.
Lucas’ struggles haven’t ended, but happiness isn’t out of reach. And he wouldn’t have made it without his mom or his a bit mismatched – and at times weird, Lucas thinks, as he watches Basile mix up the spicy sauce with his beer – family.
For the first time, it’s all looking up and Lucas wishes he could go back in time and tell himself that he wouldn’t be hurting forever. That he isn’t alone and everyone that’s caused him pain, would be punished. Tom and the boys that beat him up got what was coming for them, even though Lucas’ mom thinks it’s not enough. Lucas is simply glad his case wasn’t glossed over.
Imane leaves Eliott’s side when she’s called by Manon and Daphne and Lucas follows her with his gaze. Daphne has eventually come clean and initially, everyone pretty much resented her. Rightfully so. Lucas is still bitter at times, but he figured out there was no point in actively hating her so he just doesn’t care. The girls are still not so enthusiastically on board with her, but they haven’t abandoned her completely. Lucas is glad. It’s not like he wants her to have a miserable life. He’s not evil.
Lucas looks back towards Eliott who is now staring at him. Eliott cocks his eyebrow, his mouth stretched in a lazy smile. He nods his head towards the exit and winks at Lucas. Lucas rolls his eyes fondly and excuses himself from the guys.
He flips them off when they start wolf whistling as he approaches Eliott.
As Lucas is in front of him, Eliott reaches his hands to place them on his hips, but is stopped by Lucas’ fingers.
Lucas looks meaningfully towards the room full of people. “Let’s go outside, okay?” he suggests in a small voice to which Eliott only nods in understanding and grabs Lucas’ hand. He entwines their fingers as they leave the house the party is at.
Yeah, there are still some issues, bad moments and not everything has been magically fixed, but life is no longer hopeless and Lucas can finally say that there is a future for him. And maybe, for now, it’s enough.
93 notes · View notes
way-veee · 5 years
Text
ineedyou
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                   word count: 1.7k+
rating: m
genre: drama, mystery, smut, romance, sad
warnings: dark themes, smut, talk of suicide and depression
pairing: johnny x reader
pt. 10
johnny got up before you, he rose from the bed with a light smile on his face. he looks at you heavily sleeping, unaware of the brightness  outside. it was only 10:30 so he figures you could be sleeping for a little longer and he could go get something to eat while you still sleep.
you snore lightly and johnny scrunches his nose at how cute you look. his whole body is rigid and hurting from last night. he blushes to himself, he cant believe he did that. he tries to remember every little detail of last night without getting out of hand.
 he smiles and laughs to himself, these thoughts carry him into the kitchen.
"jonathaan"
 taeyong yells annoyingly while standing up out of his chair waving his arms like johnny was a soldier coming home from a battle. johnny hides his red cheeks into his shouders as he steps up into the kitchen passing a few of the boys.
"why the blush johnny?"
mark teases ruffling up his hair. johnny smiles and twitches his nose.
"nothing, you guys are just so weird."
"hes done it oh my god hes done it!"
 mark yells also standing out of his chair joining taeyong in jumping around. they hold hands and yell.
 "johnny got laid! johnny got laid!"
johnny wants to strangle both of these annoying boys but is too tired to do so. he believes waiting to do it later when they least expect it will suffice. yuta just looks at him and chuckles while continuing to eat his strawberries. johnny grabs a banana and slowly peels it as mark and taeyong finally calm down. 
"so, john?"
 taeyong asks sitting back down. johnny makes wide clueless eyes because that conversation starter could literally lead down so many different paths.
"how was it?"
mark finishes annoyed, like taeyongs equally sassy twin sentence finisher. johnny rolls his eyes and twitches his nose again.
"oh my god two nose twitches it must have been mind blowing!" mark yells.
johnny hits the table in frustration. he was about to wonder how mark could read his mind but then remembers that he usually twitches his nose out of embarrassment and mentally smacks himself in the head.
"I think I heard some of it!"
 jungwoo yells like a toddler, running to a seat between mark and yuta.
 "at first, I thought hey, that's a loud chipmunk. and then I listened for a bit longer and thought, hey I didn't now chipmunks knew how to speak. especially words like the ones I heard-"
johnny lunges forward half joking and pushes jungwoo so he almost falls off the chair. he hears the others boys laughing and chuckles, wondering how he got stuck with so many smart asses.
he tries to not let them ruin his fantastic mood, but every minute that passes proves how hard that really would be.
johnny glares at jungwoo and mark, who are smiling at each other mischievously like they had accomplished some big thing by simultaneously annoying and embarrassing johnny.
 then, johnny looks at taeyong whose pursing his lips and puffing out his cheeks mocking yuta who had stuffed so many berries in his mouth he looked like a squirrel.
 johnny notices this all too real humiliation party made especially for him. but what he doesn't notice is you approaching the kitchen from the hallway.
you just woke up a few minutes ago to the beautiful serenade of taeyong and marks screams. then you heard them talking about your "events" of last night and you couldn't help but listen. 
"no but seriously you guys literally sounded like: ohhhh my god yesss! uh!"
jungwoo moans in an exaggerated high female voice and all the others laugh hysterically.
 "wait no it was more like eeeeh! omigoood johnnnyy!"
yuta adds in, in an even more cartoon like voice.
 johnny blocks his ears when all the boys join in making exaggerated moans. you felt like this was your time to enter the conversation, so you fearlessly stride into the kitchen.
all sounds cease when they watch you seriously walk in, you think you even hear yuta hiccup. you wordlessly walk towards an astounded johnny and move his hands, sitting in his lap facing the island table.
 "uhhhh" jungwoo starts.
"you guys have it all wrong." you fake whine.
"you have to put the emphasis on the last syllables and hitch your voice on the last word, like:  eemm! gooood john!"
 you hold out your hands and look at them exasperatedly like they were clueless.
then at once after a beat of silence, they all laugh and gesture to you yelling
"thanks!"
"oh it all makes sense now!"
 and really loudly trying out the tips on your moans that you gave them.
 you feel johnny rest his head on your back smiling, but red and sweaty from embarrassment.
 you laugh definitely enjoying your creation more then he was. you turn back and tug on johnnys hair. he lifts his smiling beet red face to yours and then you kiss his forehead whispering,
"hi ya I missed you."
he chuckles and whispers back.
"I missed you too, but I think I might revoke that statement because well, im being humiliated and its somewhat because of you."
 you laugh lightly into his face, taken away by the curve of his nose and the shape of his eyes.
 "come on, you know you love me."
 he smiles again biting his lower lip, looking at how pink your lips are and how adorable it is how your forehead wrinkles when you scrunch your nose.
 "ya" he muses, "youre right."
 your face gets red now not because of the onslaught of moans and sex noises the boys were making, but because johnny just said that he loved you. it made your whole stomach flip and your head spin.
 "well that's good because I do too."
now its johnny turn to change to an even deeper shade that resembles the strawberry bits spread all over yutas mouth.
 "lets get out of here," johnny coaxes you getting out of his chair.
 "but I haven't eaten" you frown towards him.
 "I was thinking of taking you somewhere that supplies breakfast, unless our fruit loops are too tasty to part with?"
you playfully punch him in the shoulder and nod giddy.
"sure I can, just watch me."
" if you insist" he smiles.
 as you leave the boys stop yelling cuss words and all yell goodbye,
 "farewell my dear!" taeyong yells at you again.
 you elegantly curtsy and point at all of them like you were famous and thanking your fans. they all laugh and point back.
"farewell jonathan my boy!" taeyong waves again as the final farewell like he was sending us off to sea.
 you smile and scrunch your face as you walk to the bathroom.
"y/n?" johnny questions softly tugging on your hand.
 you look at him quizzically. johnny leans in a kisses you lightly. youre still as nervous as the first time he kissed you. and when he detaches his soft lips you shudder.
 "whew that was good"
 "yea?" johnny laughs at how cute you were.
you twirl into the bathroom, turn on the light and as you shut the door you say:
"the best I think."
 you hear johnny laugh on the other side of the door and you jump a little bit from how perfect everything is. you could of stayed talking to and kissing johnny all day.
but right now you craved fruit loops and hoped that whatever johnnys plans were, they can top those sugar coated wheat circles.
you doubt it.
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morkmywords · 6 years
Text
Not Really a Cinderella Story | Royalty au | Exo | Sehun | Part 7
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Masterlist | Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 8.5 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 [FINAL]
Length: 5.8k
Note: Im sorry this took so long but its here now and i hope you like it, also this part is kinda angsty.
Summary: When a strange string of not so great events somehow and you with a job at the palace punching the wrong people can be not so great.
You could feel the warm sand between your toes as you watched the two in the center spin in circles. Qeca was known for its gladiator battles and that is what you were watching now, the two were dancing in circles in the center of the pit swords clashing together and creating a symphony of metallic noises mixed with the cheering of the crowd. The battles have gotten more civilized as time went on, there was no more killing but instead, they must surrender but still you had no taste for the violence. The other princes were completely invested in the fight cheering as loud as the crowd, Jiyoon was under the tent with the other court women gossiping and you were left alone in a chair at the edge of the booth. You watched the fight cringing every time the clash of metal on metal echoed through the stadium, you couldn’t wait for it to be over so you could get out of the blistering, hot sun.
“It doesn’t look like you’re having too much fun.” A girl who looked around your age, said as she came to stand beside you.
“Well aside from being cooked alive and feeling like I’m about to barf from the stench of sweaty men I’m having a great time.” You said sarcastically. When the girl on your left laughed it sounded like an actual angel and now that you got a better look at her, she looked like one too. You stared at her in as and amazement of how somebody could be so perfect until she caught your eyes and you straightened yourself.
She stopped her ethereal giggling and dropped the hand that was slightly covering her face before addressing you. “You’re funny.” Was all she said before she started laughing again at your face which had gone blank again, “I’m Princess Hyejin.” She said before curtsying perfectly. When you finally realized what she said you hurried to bow but ended up tripping over your own feet and bumping into her.
You rushed to help her up while apologizing profusely about your clumsiness which she just brushed off saying it was fine. Helping her up wasn’t much of an issue seeing as she was quite a bit smaller than you, even smaller than Jiyoon. “You’re Prince Jongin’s sister right?” You asked once you were both back to a standing position. She nodded excitedly before answering.
“You know Nini?” She squealed before grabbing your hand and bringing you closer to her face.
“Nini?”
“It’s a nickname silly.” She giggled before letting you lean back from her face a bit. “Come sit with me for the rest of this.” She didn’t give you a chance object before pulling you into a pile of cushions under a separate tent.
You spent the rest of the afternoon chatting with Hyejin and eventually Jiyoon, you learned a lot about Qeca and their various traditions plus a ton of gossip which Hyejin seemed to know a lot about.
——
The air was still warm even though the sun had set hours ago. The pavilion where the ball was being held was lit by only lanterns and the moonlight. It was fitting for the theme, midnight, everyone was dressed in dark blues and black with pale stars or moons tastefully placed on skirts and suits. You were dressed very similarly in a plain deep blue gown, not nearly as dressed up as the two princesses who left your side to head to the dance floor. Unlike the heat of the day, the nights were cool and it became more noticeable as you drifted farther away from the crowd around the dance floor.  In Qeca there were hardly any trees that blocked the sky so you got the perfect view of the night sky, out of sheer boredom you began counting the stars and completely forgetting the world around you.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to ignore you but since you showed up, I guess I’ll have to leave.” you said before you turned away from the railing you were leaning against and heading back towards the crowd. The heat was already getting you in a bad mood, not to mention the nasty sunburn you had received earlier in the day, and this was the last straw.
“Just wait, I really need to talk to you!” he called while following after you. “I want to make everything right between us, like it was before.”
You ignored him and kept walking while trying not to lose your temper, you were finished with all this drama and were beginning to regret your decision to become Jiyoon’s lady in waiting.
“I want to apologize.” he called as a last attempt to catch your attention and it worked.
“You really are an idiot Prince Sehun,” you exclaimed as you whirled around to face him, you found him with a smug smirk on his face which made you even more irritated, “Saying sorry or apologizing doesn't fix everything, its like putting a band-aid on a broken arm, it doesn't do anything!” At this point, the smile was gone from his face which was a small triumph for you. “It’s going to take more than just saying sorry for things to go back to the way they were before this whole mess happened.” With that, you stalked away back to the dance floor trying not to let him make your night even worse.
At some point during the night, Baekhyun offered some sort of wine he claimed would ‘loosen you up’ which you reluctantly took and drank with much encouragement from him and Chen. By the end of the evening, your mind was foggy and you felt really….. Weird, you had never had any sort of alcohol before and you guessed it was just something that came with drinking.
“What happened to you?” Jiyoon said as she and Hyejin came up to you. You were completely out of it and were holding onto a pole to keep yourself from falling over.
“Baek and Chenie gave me some weird drink and now it feels like my brain is inside a pillow.” You sighed Jiyoon took your face in her hands and started inspecting it.
“Baek? Chenie?! What's wrong with you?” She exclaimed turning your face in her hands. She poked one of your cheeks and you giggled before falling forward and leaning your head against her shoulder.
Hyejin let out a huge sigh and smacked her head. “The wine, I should have known something like this would happen.”
Jiyoon whirled around as best she could while supporting your at least 6 inch taller figure, “What do you mean ‘the wine’?” She exclaimed which woke you up from your almost asleep state, you yawned and shushed them both before closing your eyes again.
“Well,” Hyejin began, “Qecan wine is a whole lot stronger than regular wine so if she drank some, especially if she hasn't had alcohol before, she's probably pretty messed up. I should have kept an eye on her, it's my fault”
“Let's get her back.” Jiyoon said as Hyejin came over and draped your other arm over her shoulder. At first it was hard to start moving, it felt like you had two left feet and both of the girls were a lot smaller than you.  
“It's not your fault,” you mumbled as your head drooped to the side, “I drank it because Hunie made me sad so it's his fault.”
“Hunie?” Jiyoon asked, “Do you mean Sehun?”
“That's the one,” you slurred as you felt your eyelids get heavier. “He made my heart hurt a lot.”  That was the last thing you remembered before you fell asleep against a shoulder. You vaguely remembered a pair of strong arms picking you up before you woke up the next morning with a pounding headache.
----
“SeHuN?! How did that happen?” Hyejin exclaimed lowering her voice when she remembered the sleeping girl on her shoulder. “Your brother is kind of a jerk.”
Jiyoon sighed, “He is kind of a jerk but he means well, but I don't even know how that started.”
“It's kind of odd though, I’ve known your brother for my whole life and he's never had interest in girls that goes deeper than their makeup.”
“I know, I don't think he knows how relationships work and I don't want Y/n to be hurt because of it, I think he really likes her and I think she likes him too.”
Hyejin giggled, “They really do seem perfect for each other don't they.”
“They do but I don't think they realize it.” Jiyoon said as they continued to drag their tall friend back to the palace. A few minutes later they were stopped by somebody coming to help take their friend back to the palace.
“You really don’t have to do this Sehun.” Jiyoon said as her brother picked up Y/n and put her on his back.
“I won’t tell if you won’t.” With that, he walked away from the two princesses and started heading back to the castle.
“You’re warm, I like you,” You mumbled into his neck.  He only smiled and replied with “I like you too.” Before he put you back in your own room where you collapsed onto the bed.
——
“I’m still angry about you giving me that wine so I don’t know why you’re trying to joke around.” You huffed. You were at a rest stop in your way to Meadazia while Chen and Baekhyun were joking around. “My head is still pounding thanks to you two.”
“Admit that you’re thankful we gave that to you or else you would still be mopping.” Chen teased.
“And how were we supposed to know that you’d never had a drink before.” Baekhyun followed. You frowned at them while they just laughed.
“I’m going to go find someplace to lay down away from you two and all your annoying jokes.” You got up and stomped away from the two giggling boys to go find a nice tree to nap under. You wandered, lost in thought as usual while trying to find a nice spot to sit. Where Qeca was hot and dry Meadazia was hot and humid, you had passed the border a while ago and there was a stark contrast. You could practically feel the moisture gathering on your skin as the caravan travelled through the dense jungles and you were over hot weather. You were brought out of your thoughts as the one and only prince you hated grabbed your arm.
“You dropped this and it seemed important.” He said as he handed you back the notebook you hadn’t even realized you’d dropped.
“Thank you, your highness.” You mumbled as you bowed your head. You could practically feel the tension in the air and it definitely wasn’t making things any better.
He rubbed the back of his neck and he seemed… Nervous? The Sehun you knew never got nervous. “They’re getting ready to leave again and I was wondering if I could uh…. maybe walk you back.” He asked spitting out the last few words like they were chilli peppers burning his tongue. You just nodded and followed him back to where the carriages were waiting.
The heavy vegetation of Meadazia didn’t stop at the surrounding jungle but continued into the city with vines snaking up buildings and tree sprouting up wherever there was space. The people lived in harmony with the jungle and you had never seen anything like it, they used their surroundings for everything but at the same time treated the forest like it was a living being.
The ball was a whole other story. Because of the canopy glow bugs lit up the entire jungle city including the ball, they floated through the air illuminating things like tiny floating stars. Most of the party’s fashion was following the styles of Meadazia with loose pants and skirt with close fitted tops, and the nature theme made it even better with the sea of greens. The night passed with little to no issues, you chatted and danced with the guys and even met Chanyeol’s you see brother Daeho Who was an angel. The only issue arose when Chanyeol’s sister Sejung threw a fit because she didn’t like the music or something. You hardly talked to or even saw Sehun which you were sort of glad about but for some reason it made you uneasy. Overall Meadazia was a beautiful place and you were really happy you got to go.
----
Unfortunately, you were in for more warm weather as you headed to Edesea, thankfully it was a port city so it wouldn't be too warm. The road there was very rocky as it was built off cliffs but Minseok kept you entertained by telling you many things about his childhood and his country. Apparently when the boys were younger they snuck away from the palace and decided to go cliff jumping at the edge of the city, it was all fun and games until Jongin got caught in a fisherman’s net, Kyungsoo got pooped on by a seagull, and Baekhyun  got a piece of seaweed in his pants that he thought was an eel ad started freaking out. Long story short, they all got in loads of trouble and were forbidden from going to the cliffs for an entire year. Your entire visit was filled with stories like that as you wandered the streets and the castle with Minseok as your guide, the boys would float in and out and Sehun continued to act… different. You were at the market and Baekhyun and Yixing had left you alone to go find some food stalls, you had been browsing the various fabric stalls looking for some fabric to make pants for yourself so you could finally give Yixing his back.
“Chanyeol and Jongin ditched me, do you mind if I hang around you?” Sehun asked. Somehow he appeared in front of you between the rows of hanging fabrics and materials, it was odd how he kept showing up around you but you were about to send him away when you remembered something.
“Alright,” YOu smirked and crossed your arms, “You can come IF, you carry everything I buy.” You were almost one hundred percent sure that he would leave but to your surprise…
“Sure.”
“What?!”
“I said sure so let's get going.” He said nonchalantly. You stared at him in disbelief, the Prince Sehun that hardly ever did things for anyone but himself agreed?? He noticed your expression and shot you a smirk to which you only glared back, that smirk was making you hate it more and more. You didn't want to fight this battle so instead you sighed and kept walking, Sehun followed behind you as you wandered through the various market stalls.
“What are you shopping for anyway?”He asked as you stopped in front of a stall with tons of work grade fabrics hanging.
You sighed as you kept sifting through the fabrics. “I need to find fabric to make pants so I can give Yixing his back.” you picked up a sample of material to inspect it closely while he still hovered behind you.
“Why do even need pants?”He asked as he stood beside you and started looking through the samples next to you.
You were starting to get irritated as you continued to walk down the table covered in samples. “Have you ever tried to wear a dress or a skirt?? They’re heavy and long and hot especially when you're wearing long sleeves and it's hard to do any other movement than walk and sit down in.” you huffed out as he followed you down the table, the heat wasn't doing anything to help your mood.
“If you're so hot why don't you just wear short sleeves?” He asked and you stopped in your tracks, nobody ever asked you that before and you were momentarily dumbfounded.
You mumbled, “It’s complicated.” before you grabbed the fabric you decided on and went up to the vendor. You purchased it quickly and gave the bundle of fabric to Sehun before saying something about how you should go back and meet up with everyone else, he told you he needed to get something and you should go ahead so you left back to the main square.
----
The masquerade was ocean themed which made sense since it was a port city but it was much more extravagant than the others. People had on extravagant headdresses and different pieces hanging off of them, they were covered in various ocean wildlife in a range of colours that made the ballroom look like it was full of a rainbow. Your dress was no exception, Jiyoon said yours was modelled after seafoam, something about Aphrodite and the goddess of beauty that you didn't really understand. To put it plainly you looked like a mermaid, the dress was tight but flared out around your knees and was covered in iridescent scales. Anyways you didn't really understand what seafoam had to do with it but you went with it anyways, at least you had one of the more normal dresses.
The dances and food they had were just as extravagant as the various costumes, Edesea really knew how to party. The boys went in turn teaching you the complicated and lively dances that were native to Edesea, you spun and twirled so many times that you felt like you were going to barf. You stayed far away from any wine or alcohol and overall had a great time but Sehun still lurked in the back of your mind. At one point you saw him dancing with another girl who you wouldn't recognize because of the masks but you felt a pang of something in your heart, you tried to brush it off and ignore it but he was in the back of your mind for the rest of the night.
----
“These lights are making my headache five times worse than it already was.” you groaned as you rested your head against the window of the carriage.
“Did you drink any more of the wine last night, Jiyoon told us all what happened.” Yixing, who was sitting across from you, asked.
You groaned again and rolled your forehead against the cool glass hoping it would provide some relief from your head, spoiler alert it didn’t. “I didn't have anything to drink but all that dancing sure did a number on me.” Yixing looked at you confused, he obviously had no trouble with dancing at all seeing as that's how he spent almost the entire night.
Vraetis was easily the most advanced out of all the countries on the continent, all the bright minds travelled there to learn and create in their academies. The streets glowed with Neon colours at all times of the day and it would have been beautiful if it weren't for the pulsing in your head, people wandered past in clothing from all over the world with additions that were only native to the tech capital of the world. Of course, other countries had the technology but it wasn't as prevalent as it was here, the building almost reached the sky and there were automated billboards covering them all from top to bottom. You ignored the pain in your head and admired the city that was so different from everything that you knew and before you realized, you were at the palace. It looked like it was made out of mirrors, it must have been the only building in the city with no neon lights or flashing signs. It was taller than you imagined sticking straight up into the clouds but once you got inside it was even larger with 20 floors of just guest bedrooms.
The ball was tech-themed with reflective and holographic everything, most of the pieces people wore were more avant-garde with harsh lines and folds not the usual flowing dresses. Jiyoon took full opportunity of the modern aspect and stuck you into a holographic pantsuit, it literally made you look like a disco ball but at least you were comfortable. And you weren't alone seeing as Jiyoon joined you wearing a colour block jumpsuit and some really wild eye makeup. You definitely drew some eyes with your glitter covered outfit but by the time you reached the dance floor you were at the back of people’s minds. After a few hours, everyone you knew was on the dance floor or off socializing with someone else and you were left alone in a corner table hiding behind a large bouquet of flowers.
“I don't see why you needed to get fabric to make pants when you have these bad boys.” Sehun gestured to your sparkling pants as he took a seat beside you.
“Yes I think thee would be totally appropriate for working around the palace.” you retorted. “Besides, shouldn't you be off flirting with some princess.”
He sighed and leaned back in his chair, “Well I was but then I saw you over here and wanted to make sure you weren't drinking any more of that wine because we all know what happened last time.” You were lost for words, how did he even find out about that?
“You know about that!?” You spluttered out and he just smirked which got you even more upset. You sat there in silence trying to cool down while avoiding his eyes which you could feel on the side of your face when suddenly he stood up.
“Dance with me?” He asked.
You sat for a moment and contemplated your next move, ”And why should I do that?” you asked him.
“Because you have nothing better to do?” He shrugged. You took a few more moments to decide before you took his hand and he led you onto the dance floor. You were tentative at first but as the night went on you found yourself having a good time, better than you thought. But you still had an inkling of uncertainty in you that grew and grew until eventually you knew you had to leave, as soon as the song finished you pulled your hand from his grasp.
“I’m not feeling well, I think I should go,” You said as you started walking to the edge of the dance floor, as you walked you could feel the gazes of the other attendees watching your retreat and the prince following you.
“I’ll come sit down with you or I’ll walk you back to your room.”  He said as he followed you through the crowd.
It felt like everyone’s eyes were on you as you turned around to face him, you already hear the whispers travelling through the crowd. “No, you’re a prince, this is what your life is. I can go on my own but you should just stay here.” You left before he had a chance to say anything else and just headed back to your room.
----
You had been sprawled on your bed for about twenty minutes until you heard a knock at the door. “I’m sorry I left early but Sehun was just something else I promise I’ll make it up to you……” You said as you opened the door, you expected to see Jiyoon but were surprised to see the face of Prince Sehun staring back at you. “What are you doing here?!”
“I came to make sure you were alright,” He said plainly, “but know I want to know why I was being ‘something else’.” He smirked at you and you were tempted to just close the door in his face but you knew that would probably get you into more trouble.
“You should really go back.” you said trying to change the topic, and it worked.
“But it would be ungentlemanlike if I left you all alone,” he countered.
“It would be ungentlemanlike if you didn't head back down to the ball that being held for you and the rest of the royals.” you said trying to shoo him away so your heart would stop racing.
He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, “There really is no winning against you.” He gave you a small smile which really wasn't doing much for your current mental state. Suddenly he reached forward and placed it on your forehead and then your cheeks, you swear your heart stopped.
“You should get some rest, your face is really warm and red so you might have a fever.” He turned and left, as soon as the door was shut you fell back onto the huge bed. You were blushing and your heart was racing, what was wrong with you?
----
You were bundled up since Matus was drastically colder than even Kera, you had only travelled a few hours and it was already so much cooler. You sat next to Jiyoon draped in blankets and huddling for warmth, muffled conversation filled the air between you and the two other men in the carriage with you.
“So we all saw you and Sehun the other night.” Jiyoon elbowed you in the side which jolted you awake. “What’s going on between you two?”
“There's something going on between them?” Junmyeon asked, “I just thought they hated each other.”
“You haven't seen the way they look at each other all lovey-dovey?” Jiyoon asked and he shook his head. You groaned and buried yourself farther into the pile of blankets and tried to block out their chattering for the rest of the carriage ride. Eventually, you fell asleep even through the freezing cold but your dreams were something else. They were filled with flames and familiar feeling faces blurred out by smoke, screams echoed around you but you couldn't move. You called out but nobody could hear and suddenly it all disappeared, you were back at the palace, in the garden and he was beside you, he took your hand and led you through the flowers, he was laughing and smiling but soon that was gone too. Another scene appeared but this time it wasn't a dream, it was more like a memory, it was a sunny day and you were in the garden of your old house with your mother and father when a woman approached. Your father told you and your mother to go inside while he went to talk to her, you peaked out the window at the woman and her entourage of unfamiliar men. They were talking and then the woman was screaming and flailing her arms, eventually, your father turned and came into the house while she left but you couldn't shake the feeling of her being somewhat familiar. You jolted awake to everyone in the carriage staring at you and suddenly you felt very nervous.
“What happened? You were crying and shouting and we were all worried and trying to wake you up but nothing would work.” Jiyoon was obviously worried and the others in the carriage were as well but before you could say anything the carriage lurched to a stop and you had arrived at the palace.
----
Nobody brought the carriage ride up again except for Jiyoon who asked a couple of questions while you were getting ready but quickly stopped when she saw your uncomfort. Earlier in the day, you went out to explore Matus in all of its winter glory. You went ice fishing which was more difficult than you expected, you went sledding down the mountain slopes, and even went ice skating. At the end, you built snowmen and even had a snowball fight which was very disturbing to the people of Matus who were as cold and reserved as the weather.  You tried your best to enjoy yourself at those times but you were so confused about your own feeling it was incredibly difficult and now you were heading to the masquerade even more confused than before.
The castle was a huge ice sculpture in the outside and a cozy cobblestone mansion on the inside. It was amazing how the hundreds of fireplaces that heated the inside didn’t manage to melt the outside. Unsurprisingly the grand ballroom was covered in ice, even the floor, which somehow people didn’t slip on. Everyone was bundled up in many layers of fur to keep them warm and without frostbite, you were incredibly nervous for some reason but you soon loosened up after dancing with all your friends. You spun and twirled around with every prince and even Jiyoon Before you finally gave out, after these past weeks you found dancing became one of your favourite things to do and you hating it seemed like the distant past. You were burning hot after all that physical activity so you decided to take a walk in the garden.
Every plant was covered with ice and snow, icicles hung from the trees and sparkles in the moonlight. You were enchanted by the starlight and lost in your own thoughts as you wandered through the garden, boots crunching in the snow.
“Lost in your own thoughts again?” Sehun asked as he came up to walk beside you. You let out an involuntary shiver and he grabbed your bare hands and placed them in his own warm ones, you were about to pull away but you left them. He looked at you when you didn’t pull away but instead, you grabbed his hands and kept walking, as you kept walking eventually you tucked yourself into his embrace.
“I like this,” he smiled as he snuggled back into you, “but what’s with the change of heart?”
You sighed, after all the thing you had done over the past few days you had come to a conclusion but you didn’t know how to say it. “I’ve just been thinking about me,” you told him as you kept walking, “and you.” You added in a quieter voice.
“And what’s the verdict?” He asked while tightening his grip on your hands.
You continued walking, trying to pluck up the courage to say it. “I think…” you stopped walking, “I think, I-I-I’m….. in love with you.” Silence fell over the quiet garden and you went stoic, thoughts were running through your head at a mile a minute until you finally looked over at Sehun and what you saw was not what you expected.
His eyes were full of love, not anger and not disgust but love. He lowered his head and captured your lips with his own, the kiss was full all the emotions you both shared and when you finally pulled away he picked you up and spun you around. Once your feet touched the ground he pulled you into his chest and wrapped himself around you.
“You have no idea how happy I am because…. because I love you too!” He said into your neck. You were in utter shock of what just happened but you were broken out the trance by those four words, ‘I love you too’. You wrapped your arms around him and squeezed him back, it felt like you were floating on bliss and you never wanted this moment to end but eventually, it got too cold and you had to head back inside.
By the time you actually went back inside everyone had already gone back to their rooms and aside from the various servants, you were the only ones still wandering the halls.
“I’ll walk you back to your room.” He said and nodded before grabbing his hand and following him down the hallway still on a cloud. “Goodnight,” he whispered before giving another kiss and disappearing down the hallway, you never wanted this day to end. Jiyoon was already sound asleep when you entered so you changed as quietly as possible before climbing into bed and drifting to sleep.
——
You woke up early the next morning and decided to go down the kitchens to grab breakfast for you and Jiyoon. On your way to the kitchens, you passed the garden and memories from last night placed an instant smile on your face, you were about to keep walking when you heard voices.
“You’d better listen to me Sehun, I’m your mother.”
‘Sehun’? ‘Mother’? The queen must be talking to Sehun. You poked your head around the corner and saw three figures, one obviously the queen from her decorative crown, the other Sehun which you knew so well, and the third was an unfamiliar girl standing next to the queen.
“Step-Mother, and we’ve already talked about this.” Sehun groaned. He was obviously very irritated but what about?
“You’re being very rude to Kanghee, she is your fiancée after all.”
Fiancee?
You let out a gasp and dropped the plate you were carrying which drew the three pairs of eyes, once you registered what was happening you felt your heart which you had so meticulously put back together shatter again. How could he not tell you and make you fall in love with him all over again, You picked up your skirts and broke into a run back to your room. The tears were falling freely as you crashed back into your room and tried to shut the door but something stopped it, you turned around to see Sehun with his arm stuck in the doorway.
“You had a fiancee and didn't tell me? How could you?!” You shouted at him while he pushed past the door.
“Just let me expl-”
“How long have you known?” You cut him off trying to hold back your sobs.
“Y/n-”
“How long?!” you demanded as he stepped farther into the room.
He stopped and let out a sigh, “ Since Lokya.”
“You mean that girl I saw you with, that was her?” you stuttered out and he looked away which was confirmation enough. “Get out.” you said as you back farther into the room.
“Y/n wait-”
“I said get out!” you shouted as he advanced closer to you.
“Leave me alone,” you shouted as you tossed a pillow at him, “You broke my heart for the second tie and I never want to see you again.”
He fell silent as he took in your words and was about to say something again before you cut him off.
“Get out.” At that point, Jiyoon walked into your room and immediately rushed over to you as she saw your distressed state.  You had sunk to the floor and you buried your head in her neck when she came next to you, thankfully you heard the door shut and you knew he was gone as you sobbed into Jiyoon’s shoulder.
“I think I should take some time off.” you mumbled out and Jiyoon just agreed before you continued to sob.
----
Jiyoon had agreed to let you take as much time off as you want under the circumstance you would write to her every week. You gratefully agreed and hugged her goodbye before you climbed into the carriage which was under orders to take you wherever you want, nobody knew what was happening except for Jiyoon and you were happy that way. As the carriage pulled away from the front steps you heard a familiar voice call your name and footsteps crunch against the gravel but you kept your eyes forward, refusing to let your heart crumble any more than it already had.
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kimvtae · 7 years
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Drag Me Down (To Hell) | 04
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↬ Summary: There’s a darkness to your city, a murderous underbelly filled with crime and deceit that you’ve sworn to avoid at all costs. But the universe has funny ways of forcing your involvement in the form of a notorious mob boss and his young daughter. ↬ Pairing: Jeongguk x reader ↬ Genre: mafia!au ↬ Rating: Mature ↬ Additional Warnings for: blood, murder, slight gore, mentions of human trafficking, drug mentions, dissociation if you squint ↬ Word Count: 15.269
Part 01 - Part 02 - Part 03 - Part 05
Jeongguk’s charter falls through.
What had started as a plan to leave Taiwan a few hours after you managed to retain consciousness quickly turned into a struggle to find somewhere to stay. Jeongguk trusted very few people in the city and trusted even fewer hotels or guesthouses, so the next morning found Jeongguk moving everyone’s things into the building where you were being kept.
You didn’t see more than the basement for the next few days. Your doctor, a man by the name of Jihoon who didn’t look to be any older than forty, was silent most of the time he took note of your vitals or asked about your pain. But to say you were hooked up to the proper equipment would be the furthest stretch imaginable. The basement was dark, light only filtering through from a tiny, grimy window to your left, and your right arm was hooked up to something that looked like a crude IV bag, but Jihoon told you it was a morphine drip when you asked about it.
Taehyung stayed by your side for as long as he was able, sitting in an old chair and holding tight to your hand. He was still incredibly furious with Jeongguk, but when you explained on the second day that he had been protecting you, Taehyung seemed to calm down slightly. That didn’t stop him from grumbling about knocking a few of Jeongguk’s teeth out, but at least he was quieter about it now.
You like it best when Taehyung was at your side because his familiar hand holding both of yours had always been the best thing to keep your nightmares at bay.
And now, with him only staying sporadically, you’re loath to fall asleep even as the morphine continues to drag you under. Because when you close your eyes and the rest of the world fades away, the taste of copper fills your mouth, your tongue coated in every word that stayed stuck in your throat while you watched the most important people in the world die.
You see shapes behind your eyes when they close, either the shapes of family falling before you or of the pictures the blood would paint on the walls, the man with dead eyes who didn’t even bother trying to tell you things were going to get better-
Jeongguk only visited once a day to check that you were stable. The morphine has you feel like you’re floating most of the time, only really becoming aware of the pain when the stretches between doses began to get longer. Jihoon wants you off of morphine before you were to leave the city, but both Jeongguk and Taehyung try to prioritize your comfort.
Jeongguk also doesn’t let Surin visit during the time, but he tells you that he’s got Jimin watching her upstairs, and that his men have only left the building to try to find a damn plane out of the country. It was too risky to take public airlines after the attack, especially when Jeongguk still didn’t know the shooters.
On the fourth night since the attack, your sleep is restless. Jihoon had turned off the drip before leaving for the night, and you couldn’t seem to fall asleep. Your shoulder was throbbing, and though you know the bullet was no longer lodged in your flesh, you could swear you still felt the meta; in your shoulder, nestled between your bones and tearing at your skin, pulsing off beat to your heart just loudly enough to keep you unsettled.
“How is she really?” Jeongguk’s quiet voice floats through the room just as you’re teetering on the edges of consciousness, missing the soft clouds of morphine.
“She’s stable.” That’s Jihoon. You’ve become more comfortable than you’d like to be with Jihoon’s voice over the last few days, the quiet monotone that suggested immense displeasure with any situation. “But I told you not to fucking bring her here. I don’t-”
“Work for me, yes you’ve made that painfully obvious. But what better way to cash in on the favor you still owed my father, hm?”
Jihoon makes an unhappy noise in the back of his throat. “It’s going to be a difficult wound to heal, Jeon. I hope you realize this-”
“I’ve been shot before, Im.” Jeongguk interrupts dryly. “Is she able to leave?”
“Yes, but be incredibly careful.”
There’s a long pause in which you take the chance to crack open your eyes just enough to make out two figures by the door, both appearing more as mottled black blobs than as actual people.
Jeongguk prompts, “And?”
“I would recommend keeping her here until we could begin physical therapy. It’s not my area of expertise-” Jeongguk snorts, and briefly you wonder if Jihoon had even been to medical school. His methods were cruel and painful, his equipment shoddy and worrying, and you had unclear, hazy memories of Jihoon warning Jeongguk against even allowing him to be the one to operate on you. But in a city with masked gunmen on your ass, there weren’t really many options. “She’s going to be in incredible pain the entire time home, probably for another few days with how little morphine I’ve been trying to give her-”
“I thought I ordered you to give her enough to be comfortable.” Jeongguk snaps, his voice icy and cold in a way you had never heard before.
Jihoon dishes it back just as well, his tone biting and professional. Professional. The thought nearly makes you laugh. “Do you fucking want her addicted, Jeon? You’re too young to remember what happened to your father, but I can guarantee that the last thing you want right now is a fucking drug addict for a nanny.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Don’t think for even a second that this was an accident, Jeon. It was too calculated, executed too well-”
“I killed every man in that building, Im-”
“You think that means shit?” Jihoon laughs, and for once you hear some emotion bleed into his voice. “ Someone is stirring the shit, Jeongguk. And you need to be prepared for anything.”
“This isn’t a fucking war-”
“How long are you going to keep kidding yourself with that, Jeon? Hasn’t it cost you enough?”
Jeongguk snarls. “Get the fuck out of here, Jihoon. I don’t want to see your face until it’s time to move her.”
“Yes, sir.”
Again, it is silent for a long few minutes before the uneasy stalemate is broken by the sound of Jeongguk punching his fist through the flimsy drywall. His fist clears the wall, the sudden noise making you jerk to full awareness on the bed- a broken futon, you had realized on the second day- as Jeongguk wipes plaster and drywall onto his suit jacket.
“How long have you been awake?” Jeongguk asks, not looking away from his hand.
It takes a few minutes for you to find your voice, throat scratchy and raw from disuse, from screaming during the removal of the bullet- the agonizing way your entire body had bent and cowered away from the pain, someone’s sweaty hands on your face trying to calm you down. “The… the entire time. I’m sorry, Jeongguk-”
“Why are you apologizing?” He mutters, fingers clenching slow into a tight fist. “I’m the damn reason you got shot.”
“You couldn’t have predicted it.”
“I should have made you stay on the floor with Surin. Should have never put that fucking gun in your hand-”
“And what if we had been found, and I didn’t have anything? Or you didn’t come back?” You struggle to focus on Jeongguk’s figure, standing ramrod straight and tense, his features slowly coming into view as your eyes begin to adjust. “Thinking in hypotheticals will get you nowhere, Jeongguk.”
“I know,” he sighs. “How are you feeling?”
“Like shit,” you admit.
You struggle to sit up, using your good arm to push yourself upright until Jeongguk’s at your side with an arm around your back to help you sit properly.
“Shoulder?”
“Hurts.”
Jeongguk bites uncertainly on his lower lip. In the wake of everything that had happened, Jeongguk just looked exhausted. You couldn’t imagine what was going through his mind, the thoughts laying claim to his attention. Not only had he killed upwards of a dozen men a few days ago, but he had nearly lost Surin, lost contact with his men, watched you get shot, and lost Jackson. The bags under Jeongguk’s eyes were dark and nasty, his features dragging with weariness.
Part of you wanted to scream, to beg Jeongguk to get you home so you could drop all contact with him, his mob, with all of the fucking guns that had been pointed at you over the span of the last few months. But more than that, more than the desire to fall asleep and allow the mindless numbness to drag you under for good, you felt the inexplicable urge to comfort Jeongguk, to get your bad arm around his chest and tell him he’d be fine, that Surin was fine, you were fine. Another glance at his profile, his face turned away to look at the door, told you that not even some reassurance from you could bring Jeongguk back from wherever his head was.
“As much as I hate Jihoon,” Jeongguk says. “We should probably heed his warning. I know it hurts, Y/N, but I need you to be strong, okay? At least until I can get you to a proper facility.” He scoffs, muttering under his breath, “Fucking Jihoon thinks he’s some chief of medicine. Killed more people than a fucking airstrike on his own. Moron.”
“Jeongguk?” He hums, and suddenly his fingers are in your hair, stroking through the tangled strands with surprising gentleness. “If you hate Jihoon so much, why did you take me here?”
He stiffens for a second, an uncomfortable moment of silence brewing between the two of you, but instead of brushing away your question and leaving you for the night, Jeongguk surprises you. “He was my only option. My father had more enemies than friends here, and about fifteen years ago all of the hospitals in a five-kilometer radius turned against my family name. Probably because my father sent so many men to their morgues, but he never fully explained the situation to me. I couldn’t risk it with how much blood you were losing, so we had to come here.”
“Who exactly is Jihoon?”
“He worked for my father for over twenty years. As a personal doctor and a… Well, my father spread Jihoon’s name around the underground as a reliable doctor so when my father’s enemies came to Jihoon, Jihoon would be able to poison them.” Jeongguk’s hand pauses in your hair, and when you glance at him he’s staring at his lap, expression too far away to even contemplate offering a hand to gently bring him back. “When my father died, Jihoon disappeared. I only managed to track him down a few years ago.”
“And he agreed to help?”
Jeongguk is silent, his hand dropping from your hair as the same professionally blank expression he wore when speaking to his subordinates adorned his features. You knew you were pushing it, asking too many questions into topics that could easily get you killed. Your heart rate kicks up slightly, nervous for Jeongguk’s reaction or what he chooses to do next. You’d already proven to be a liability and in your own eyes, there really wasn’t a reason for Jeongguk to even keep you around.
“You should sleep, Y/N. We’re leaving in the morning.”
“Wait, Jeongguk-” You try to scramble for Jeongguk’s hand, to grasp onto the trust that had been floating in the air as he answered your questions and provided light into topics you’ve been worried about for months, but it proves more difficult than anticipated with the flare of pain that hits your shoulder. You cry out, grabbing your injured shoulder instead of his hand and slumping back into the pillows.
Jeongguk’s face is unreadable as he adjusts the needle attached to your inner elbow, twisting a dial slightly, and then the increasingly familiar warmth of the morphine spreads throughout your veins. Your entire body feels light, the pain beginning to bleed into the relief, and with deep, slow breaths your eyes fall shut.
“I’m sorry.”
“Talk to me, Jeongguk. What the fuck is going on?”
“Sure, Taehyung, you can come into my office.” Jeongguk looks up from the files in front of him, glancing at Taehyung from where he’s kneeling in front of an old, rusty file cabinet.
“You don’t have any offices outside of Seoul.” Taehyung closes the door behind him, crossing the room to join Jeongguk on the floor. He’s careful not to crush any files or loose papers beneath his boots, but a part of Jeongguk wishes he would, if only to keep himself from seeing anymore useless information. “Who the fuck shot my sister?”
“I don’t know.”
“Bullshit.”
“I don’t!” Jeongguk snaps the file shut, tossing it onto another pile and reaching for a new one. Fucking Jihoon hadn’t organized a day in his life. “You think they told me while they had a gun trained on my head?”
Taehyung picks up a file, but that one’s written in Russian so he drops it almost immediately. “But you have an idea, right? In the room, you told me you had a lead.”
“More of a hunch than anything else. A feeling.” Jeongguk sighs and leans on one of the cabinets, running his hand through his hair. How long had it been since he last slept? “I really should debrief everyone once we get back to Korea, Tae. But I have a feeling you won’t let me rest until you know what I do.”
“You know me too well,” Taehyung grins.
“Where’s Surin? How’s she holding up?”
“She’s fine, a little shaken up. I’ve got her in Jihoon’s master bedroom on the first floor, and she was sleeping when I came to find you. Bogum’s watching her now, but I’ve been keeping watch most of the time. Helps to distract from the fact that my little sister’s in incredible pain and I can’t do anything to help.”
Jeongguk stares at the tip of his shoe, sees the little spark of that goddam pistol before Y/N’s body had fallen at his feet. How many? How many bodies would he watch fall? “I’m sorry.”
“Save it. Y/N told me you saved her life. The only thing I have to be angry about with you is that you put her in danger in the first place.”
“Right.” He shifts, sitting up straight and noticing the keen eye with which Taehyung was watching him. It was unnecessary, really; he wasn’t the one that had nearly died. “Ha Eunhye.”
Taehyung purses his lips. “Why does that name sound familiar?”
“Her family was my father’s contact in Thailand for decades, but she broke all ties with our clan when word got out that my mother was pregnant,” Jeongguk begins. “Eunhye believed that by my father getting married and having children he was proving himself to be weak. She’s been ordering hits on me since I could walk.”
“Jesus,” Taehyung breathes. “Why the fuck would she try to kill a kid?”
“If she killed me, she could break my father. In her eyes, his pain would result in a spike in his anger and bring back the ruthless killer she wanted him to be. I was seventeen the last time I heard from her, the day I killed her right hand man.”
Taehyung takes a file out of Jeongguk’s hands, skipping through the info even though he knew there wouldn’t be anything written down on Eunhye or the people who tried to kill Y/N. They were too good. “And you think she’s back? Think she can break you?”
“I think Surin factors in here somewhere, but I have no connections yet.”
Taehyung freezes, halfway through reading a page. Jeongguk leans forward to try and read whatever it was that had caught Taehyung’s eye, but he shakes his head and chucks the file at the far wall.
“Jeongguk.”
“Yeah.”
“What if they weren’t after you at the meeting? What if they were after Surin?”
Jeongguk frowns, picking at a thread on his jeans. “Why would a major gang be after my young daughter?”
“The ultimate betrayal,” Taehyung says darkly. “Turning your own child against you? Eunhye could raise her into hating you, turn her into the nastiest killer Korea has ever seen and use those skills to her advantage.”
“Taehyung, don’t.”
“Right,” Taehyung blinks. “Sorry.”
“No, fuck.” Jeongguk grabs his hair, something stone-like settling deep in his belly. It wouldn’t be the first time a child was kidnapped from the head of a clan, tortured for information from either the child or the leader before ultimately being killed or released. Leaders of gangs didn’t like to raise children and considered them the highest form of a liability, only producing one of their own when they needed an heir. And, more often than not, the children were raised abroad to be out of harm’s way. Hell, Jeongguk had been sent to America for almost two years. But Jeongguk had taken every possible precaution since the moment Surin was born, keeping her name a secret, keeping her safe in his home, and preparing her to leave at a moment’s notice. If Eunhye headed these attacks it meant information of Surin had gotten out. And if information had gotten out, every safe place he had lined up for his daughter was compromised. “It makes sense, Tae, that’s the problem. Eunhye’s been a ghost for years, if she’s after Surin I have no way to anticipate her attacks.”
“Think this shit is connected to what happened in Ilsan? With Zhang’s clan?”
“I think there’s a good chance. Either that, or there’s a few more clans than I anticipated that want me dead.” Jeongguk grabs another of the files, a name on the inside cover catching his eye. “When we’re back in Seoul, arrange a meeting with Hyunsik. It’s been too long with radio silence, and I’ll need another passport made for Surin.”
Taehyung looks uncertain, glancing between Jeongguk’s face and the file he gripped tightly. “When are we leaving?”
“Sunrise. I managed to get a plane so we’re not crawling back to Seoul by boat.”
“Good.”
“One more thing, Taehyung.” Jeongguk closes the file, putting it carefully by his hip. “Order Yugyeom and Jaebum to find Hunchul.”
“Hunchul? He should still be in Yongsan-gu, why do you need him?”
“He’s overstepping. I’m tired of his comments, and think he’s the one who’s been threatening Surin and Y/N.” Jeongguk doesn’t miss the way Taehyung’s eyes darken at the mention of his sister, and possibly knowing one of the people who’s trying to hurt her. “Have them bring him to the location outside Gangnam.”
“Any specifications?”
“The usual will be fine.” He snaps the file closed, throwing it somewhere to the side. “Go alert the others. There will be a meeting as soon as we’re back at the house. Let Jimin know what we’ve discussed and get Yoongi to find any records of our presence here and erase it. We leave at sunrise.”
Taehyung nods, standing and wiping his dusty hands on his slacks. “One more thing, Jeongguk.” He hums, reaching a hand to grasp Taehyung’s and pull himself to his feet. “You saved Y/N, but you’re also the reason she’s hurt. The only, only, reason I let you hire her is because you swore to me she wouldn’t be anything more than a nanny.” Taehyung’s grip is bruising, unforgiving against Jeongguk’s palm and his nose nearly bumping into Jeongguk’s, but he doesn’t say anything. In a second, Jeongguk could threaten his job or have a dozen armed men ready to kill him for insubordination, but they both knew that would never happen. “I’m getting her out.”
“They already know her face.”
“I’ll get her out of the country, I don’t care. Do you have any idea how many damn promises I broke just letting you near her?” Taehyung steps closer, trapping their clasped hands between their chests. With little difference in height, there is next to nothing dividing Taehyung’s gaze from him. “You’ll get Hyunsik to make her documents, okay?
“If she asks for them,” Jeongguk nods. “I’ll have them ready the next day.”
“Okay. Okay,” Taehyung crosses to the door, a fucking curtain hastily hung across the doorway. “Jesus, you give me grey hairs.”
Jeongguk manages a shaky smile. “You’ll just dye them again, anyway.”
“Go see Surin. Meet you in the morning.”
“Let’s get the fuck out of this country.”
Jeongguk waits until the echo of Taehyung’s footsteps fades and turns to the file cabinet again. Jihoon had done one thing properly over the course of his miserable life, and that was keep intimate details of every “patient” who had ever crossed his doorway. Jeongguk had found files on men he didn’t know, on traitors of his father that had been sent here to die decades ago, even a few files on Zhang’s men. But there was nothing on Eunhye.
The one that caught his eye, however, was hidden between dozens of blank pages.
Jeongguk empties the file cabinet, throwing the files onto the floor and watching as the papers scattered and the names blurred together. He tucks something into his pocket before leaving the room, not giving a shit that it would be left in disarray for Jihoon whenever the older man chose to re-enter. Making a quick stop to the cot Jeongguk had been sleeping on the last few days, he grabs a hoodie from his overnight bag and makes his way to the only bedroom.
Surin’s sitting up in bed, swaddled in half a dozen blankets and looking smaller than Jeongguk remembers. His heart weighs heavily in his chest as he knocks on the door, noting the bags beneath her eyes and the tangled mess of her hair. He should have listened to Y/N, should have listened when she told him the best option was leaving Surin at home. But that had always been his problem, hadn’t it? He never fucking listened.
“Daddy?” Surin spots him in the doorway, her big eyes lighting up.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He sinks onto the mattress next to her, tugging her small frame into his lap. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, Surin throws her arms around his chest and squeezes tight. “How’re you feeling?”
“Are the bad people gone?”
“Yeah,” Jeongguk says, swallowing thickly. “Yeah, princess. No one’s going to try to hurt you again, I promise.”
Surin tucks her head beneath Jeongguk’s chin. “Is Y/N eonnie okay? Can I see her?”
“She’s okay, but I can’t let you see her yet, sweetheart.”
His baby girl pulls back, glancing up at him with the eyes that have haunted Jeongguk for years, the eyes that drag back memories he’s spent so long trying to bury. He sees her eyes, he sees his little girl’s smile, and he sees everyone who died to keep her alive. He sees the smile of her mother, so bright for so short a time before her teeth were stained with blood, before the red painted every wall in his goddam home, bullets flying and his death hanging so close, so close he could reach out and grab it if he only tried a little harder.
Jeongguk looks at Surin, looks at his daughter, and watches as hundreds of people die, hears the screams echoing through his head, hears her voice damning him to the deepest pits of hell.
She just had to inherit everything but his eyes.
“Why not, daddy?” Surin pouts.
“She’s still weak. When we’re back home I’ll let you see her, okay?”
“Are we going home?”
“Yes,” Jeongguk strokes his fingers through her hair as best he can. She’s obviously exhausted, and Jeongguk hates that he’s already caused her so much distress at such a young age. If he’d had any other way to protect her, any other way to keep her safe, then he wouldn’t be burning the alias he’d used to get her to this country in the first place. “In the morning.”
Surin’s quiet for so long that Jeongguk assumes she’s fallen asleep until he makes to leave, to brief his men on the next few days and she grabs his hand, chubby fingers struggling to hold all of his at once. “Stay? Please?”
He’s never been able to deny her, sinking back into the bed and holding her close. Surin asks for a story, and Jeongguk struggles to come up with one to get her to sleep with ghosts of his past clawing their way up his throat to choke him.
The hours spent on the plane are the most excruciation of your life. Jihoon only gives Jeongguk enough morphine for a week, stressing for Jeongguk to wane you off of the substance before any signs of addiction could develop and to switch to some other painkiller until he was able to get you to a proper hospital. Unfortunately for you, that meant the constant reminder of the fiery pain in your shoulder.
It’s a struggle to get you out of bed in the morning, the sky still dark and the streets silent. Your shoulder feels as though it’s set to fall off, the phantom feeling of tiny ants crawling under the skin even after the small shot of morphine. It isn’t enough, there isn’t enough relief in the tiny dose, and it feels like an incredible impossibility to stand up, let alone try to move your arm.
“Lift your arm in front of you,” Jihoon’s saying, standing in front of you with a hand on your wrist and another on your shoulder, just above where you were shot. You try to comply, only managing to lift your parallel to the floor before stopping. “Okay, and to the side.” Again there was the same result. “Roll your shoulder. Alright,” he addresses Jeongguk, standing rigidly by the door. “I don’t see any obvious signs of infection or rotator cuff damage, but-”
“Get her to a hospital as soon as possible. I know, Jihoon,” Jeongguk says, glaring across the room. “You’ve made your shortcomings painfully clear over the past three days.”
“You bastard-”
“Your wire transfer will be complete when I am confirmed alive in Seoul. Don’t do anything stupid, and let’s go, Y/N.”
With Jeongguk’s men surrounding everyone, you head to a small airport in the early morning. Jeongguk leads from the front, Surin in his arms and two guns in the back of his waistband. You struggle to walk properly, Taehyung’s arm around your waist to support the majority of your weight, but your entire body feels heavy without the morphine to make you feel like you were floating, like the pain had ceased to exist. You try to stay quiet, too, but can’t help the whimpers and moans of pain that slip past your lips, burying your face in Taehyung’s chest. And you hope through the haze of red that Surin isn’t trying to sneak any glances at you.
The plane ride isn’t much better. The walk to the private airport took too much out of you, and you collapse in the first seat you get close to and fall asleep for most of the flight. But you’re not too gone enough not to recognize Taehyung’s presence in the seat next to you, his hands stroking your sweaty hair away from your face, or the fire trying to scald your shoulder.
“Y/N,” you’re shaken awake some hours later, the plane having touched down some time ago. It’s Taehyung, eyes red and bloodshot, looking as if he hadn’t slept in days. “Wake up, love. Time for your next dose.” That wakes you up, sitting up and shaking off the multiple blankets that had been draped over your frame. You watch with rapt attention as Taehyung retrieves the morphine from the bag at his feet, drawing out the proper dosage before yanking your sleeve above your elbow and injecting it. The result is almost instantaneous, your body melting back into your seat as the infuriating pain begins to fade away. “That’s it until tomorrow morning, love. Sorry.”
“What if I need more tonight, Tae?” You ask, as Taehyung begins gathering your bags to leave the plane and well aware that you were whining. The rest of Jeongguk’s men, weary from the flight, are collecting everything in the aisle behind you. “Tae.”
“I’ll be staying with you until you’re off the morphine completely,” Taehyung says, guiding you from the plane with a hand on the small of your back. “I just need to brief Jimin and the others, pick up a new prescription for you, and then I’ll be over, okay?”
“The babysitter becomes the babysat.”
“Oh hush, love.”
It takes a few minutes for the three cars to round the airport, getting close to the plane before any security or civilians could notice. You watch, being ushered into the car in the back, as Jeongguk settles Surin into the backseat of the middle car, smiling shallowly at his sleeping daughter. When he pulls away to sit up front, his expression is one of distress.
Jimin’s driving this car, looking immeasurably relieved to see everyone. “Good to see you assholes alive,” he’s saying as you buckle. Jimin reaches across the console to pull Taehyung into a fierce hug, and then turns his body to squeeze your knee. “How’re you holding up?”
“My stitches itch and I’m thinking about sneaking drugs from my brother.”
“So, as expected, huh?” Jimin grins, and you can’t help but offer an uneasy smile in reply.
You doze during the ride home, head rattling against the window and making it difficult to sleep properly. Jimin and Taehyung try to be courteous, trying to keep their conversations muted or not speaking at all, but halfway through the ride you’re wishing they’d be loud. Your thoughts, the images of the shootout and the moment your shoulder was ripped in two keep playing through your mind. Perhaps if you were drugged up more you’d be able to sleep properly, but you know that wouldn’t be enough of a reason for Taehyung to give you more.
“Think you’ll be okay for a few hours?” Taehyung asks, leaning out the window.
You have your duffle bag over your good shoulder, body feeling heavy and tired and you really just wanted to sleep this entire terrible trip away. “I’ll be fine, Tae. Just come back when you can, okay?”
“Okay, love. Get some sleep, I’ll bring some takeout when I’m back.”
“Thanks. See you soon.”
Jimin waits to drive away until you’ve gotten into the building, your shoulders feeling as if they’re set to bow beneath the heavy weight of your wound, your memories, or the backpack. Either of them could be it, could be the catalyst that leads to your fall. But as you take the stairs to the fourth floor- the elevator was broken, of course- you’re beginning to wonder if it won’t be all three.
It’s not particularly late but there are only a few people around the building, either leaving for a night out at parties or bars or returning from long days of office jobs, loosening their ties as they walk. You don’t look out of place among the tired and weary. You wonder if you ever will.
Just before the fourth floor staircase there’s a long, loud string of honking horns and you glance out the window to see a large, white SUV parked on the other side of the street. You roll your eyes, gathering your phone and dialing a number that was becoming disturbingly familiar to you.
“Yeah.”
“Call the tail off. I’m really not in the mood.”
“I don’t have a tail on you,” Jeongguk says, frown audible over the line. “All of my men are regrouping at the house. Y/N, what do you see?”
You shrug your good shoulder, forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t see. “White SUV, looks like one of yours.”
“Could you tell the brand?”
“Uh, a Mitsubishi? Maybe? I only glanced at the car-”
“Fuck,” Jeongguk hisses, and your feet freeze at the top of the fourth floor staircase. Over the phone, you hear the distinct noise of tires squealing, of horns honking and Jeongguk cursing under his breath. Your hand shakes as you push your key into the lock. “Y/N, don’t fucking move. Don’t go anywhere and don’t speak to anyone. I’m five minutes away at most.”
“Okay.” You toss your keys into the bowl on the nearby countertop, dropping your bag by the door. “Okay, Jeongguk, what the fuck is happening?”
“Listen to me. I think I know what this is, don’t go into y-”
The phone goes dead.
Just then, a crack of thunder echoes from outside, and a brutal downpour darkens the skies. The city needs it, could use the rain and the water to beat some of the recent heat, but at this moment it feels like nothing more than an ominous sign. Heavy rain, an odd SUV, and your phone freezing all within the span of a few minutes? You’d been working for Jeongguk long enough to recognize odd, unsafe situations, and right now felt as if that was exactly what you were getting yourself into.
Your phone, despite what you were trying to convince yourself of, hadn’t died from use over the past few days. It still had half of its battery left. The lights don’t turn on when you flick the switch, your apartment bathed in darkness save for when the lightning lights up the sky. Your entire body feels as if it has been bathed in ice, a cold sweat breaking out along your skin, your heart kicking far into overdrive it feels as though it’s going to abandon you. You dig through the kitchen drawers for an old flashlight, nearly sobbing in relief when it proves to still be capable of working.
There’s nothing to worry about, you tell yourself over and over again. It was only a power outage, the storm must have knocked over a power line or something, and soon you’d have lights again. Maybe when Taehyung got back the two of you could light candles all over the apartment to light it up. Or maybe he’d just take you to Jeongguk’s since you’re sure an outage this small wouldn’t have heavily affected Gangnam.
Your heart’s still beating furiously against your chest despite mumbling under your breath to calm the fuck down. It was stress; it was nerves and the lingering pain that were making you overreact like this. You’d been spending too much time around mobsters, gotten too used to the prospect of danger at the end of every block, to attack you or threaten Surin or be the reason why Jeongguk returns home covered in blood he swears isn’t his own.
You were overreacting. There was nothing to be afraid of. Taehyung would get back in a few minutes, would help you find the fuse box and then the two of you would eat the takeout he had brought, laughing about your overzealous imagination-
A red dot hovers on the floor, darting to the opposite wall before settling by the couch and-
“Oh, shit-”
The window shatters.
The flashlight clatters to the floor as you dive away from the window, glass shattering and falling to the floor like some kind of twisted waterfall. But the shots don’t end there, several bullets flying through the window and embedding themselves in the back of your couch and tearing the fabric to shreds. Without the flashlight, your only source of light comes from the sporadic bouts of lightning, the occasional bursts of color, but it does not give you any insight to where or who the shots are coming from.
Bullets don’t stop flying even as you crawl, staying low to the ground to try to get somewhere safe, to get to your room at least. At your door you stand, using your bag as an impromptu shield, even though you knew it was useless against a barrage of bullets. Another window shatters from behind you and your heart lurches into your throat when you hear the unmistakable sound of heavy boots landing on the floor.
Your heart stops beating. Turning around slowly, you face a man dressed in all black with a mask covering more than half of his face and an automatic aimed at the floor. There are two more guns strapped to his back.
The only weapon you have in the apartment is the Taser in the cupboard.
The man is standing between you and the kitchen.
Swiftly, you yank open your door and manage to shut it just before a spray of bullets imbed themselves into the wood of the door, a few by your head managing to break through. The door is locked but you know it won’t hold, not against a man determined enough to use three full guns to kill you.
You run to the window, wincing each time another bullet makes it through your door. There’s no way the old wood is going to hold long enough for you to come up with a plan to make it out alive, not with that man using an automatic against it. The window proves to be a dead end, too, the ground too far away to attempt to jump, and the fire escape is at one of the windows back in the living room
You were going to die. You were going to fucking die standing alone in your bedroom, gunned down like your own parents and leaving bloodstains for the landlord to tell the next tenants about. At least, perhaps, the only good thing was that Taehyung wasn’t here to watch you die. There’s nothing worse than family watching the ones they love collapse in a pool of their own blood.
The door puts up little resistance to the next few bullets before finally bowing under the weight of your attacker’s foot. Before even getting a look at him you throw yourself to the floor and roll under your bed, naively hoping that would be enough to save you.
For a few long, excruciatingly slow moments there are no sounds in your apartment save for the man’s heavy footsteps and even breathing as he takes slow, calculated steps in your direction. His toes appear in your line of sight and you hold your breath, desperately trying to calm your heavy breathing as you countdown the seconds in your head, shutting your eyes and feeling tears pool in the corners.
Something thuds to the ground and for a long second you think it’s your own body falling limp, but when your breathing does not stop and there is no sharp explosion of pain anywhere you carefully open your eyes, meeting the man’s open, lifeless ones at the foot of your bed.
“Y/N?”
You could cry upon hearing that voice, the familiarity warming you in a way that had been lacking for so long. Scrambling out from under the bed, Jeongguk is there to catch you when you stumble over the dead man’s body, and he’s strong and real against you as you bury your face into his chest, relief and fear crowding your senses.
“J-Jeongguk… the-”
With a hand around your bicep, Jeongguk carefully pulls you away from his chest to check over your features for any signs of injury. “Are you hurt anywhere? Did they get you?”
“No. No, Jeongguk, I’m okay. But who the hell are they?”
“I’ve got an idea,” Jeongguk says, holding his gun parallel to his face. “Tell me there’s another way out of this building.”
“There’s a back staircase, separate from the fire escape.”
“Keep your head down. I couldn’t find the fucking sniper.”
Jeongguk leads you back through your apartment, urging you out of your bedroom. At the window there’s no sign of any gunman, but you know the threat of more gunfire isn’t gone yet as long as you’re in the apartment and Jeongguk hasn’t put a bullet through the man’s head. He crouches against the wall and you mirror his movements, keeping both of your heads out of view as you move.
Just as your head passes the opposite side of the window another onslaught of bullets fire through the window, embedding themselves in the ruined back of your couch. From somewhere in the building you can hear the sounds of more gunfire, and your heart stutters at the thought of any of your neighbors being caught at the end of a barrel of a gun all because of you.
Your door is already kicked in as you and Jeongguk run through the kitchen, and you remember- “Wait, Jeongguk. There’s a Taser in the cupboard-”
“The fuck is a Taser supposed to do in this situation?”
“It was enough for you to give to Surin.”
Jeongguk’s head snaps to face you, his gaze cold and calculated. Empty. “Don’t.”
Before you can say anything else Jeongguk is leaning out the door, scanning both ends of the hallway with his gun pointed forward in preparation. He declares it safe enough to move, and you follow him to the end of the hallway with a fist curled into the back of his t-shirt, quietly directing him towards the back staircase. These stairs didn’t exit to the street level, nor to a normal place in the basement, so only a few residents of the building knew they existed. In a building steadily filling with assassins, this was your only option.
Jeongguk moves swiftly down the hallway, using his phone in one hand as a flashlight and the other with his finger on the trigger ready to shoot the first thing that shows, his hands crossed over each other at the wrist. It’s eerily silent, reminiscent of the silence that following the shooting back in Taiwan, but this time there were no glass doors or windows, no relatively safe roof to hide out on, only a basement with a door you were pretty sure opened to the outside.
The door to the ground floor is kicked in before you reach it, and Jeongguk fires the second he sees the automatic weapon the man is carrying. The bullet hits right in the man’s chest, knocking him down, but Jeongguk doesn’t spare a glance as he passes and grabs the gun right off the man’s lifeless body.
“Wait, Jeongguk,” you say, kneeling uselessly at the man’s side. Just like in Taiwan, the man was wearing a large black mask to obscure his features, and without thinking you unhook the straps from the man’s ears and tuck the fabric into your jacket pocket. “Don’t you want to see who it is?”
“You think I give a shit right now with your life in danger?” Jeongguk calls from inside of the basement.
“You said you had an idea!”
“And if I’m right, we need to get you out of here and get back to the house five minutes ago.”
You follow him into the room, finding him standing between two rows of crates. The basement is incredibly cluttered; motorcycles with their covers and discarded gear littered the floor along with piles of musty blankets and pillows. There were fire extinguishers and boxes of holiday supplies, and rows and rows of unopened wooden crates. “How the hell do we get out of here?”
“Um-”
The door you’d entered from kicks open with an ominous bang to reveal another masked gunman, who raises his automatic the second he spots you and Jeongguk. Jeongguk grabs your wrist, ducking behind the nearest crate just as another wave of bullets echoes through the room. The wood splinters above your heads, too weak to hold for long.
“God dammit.” Jeongguk curses again, holding his stolen automatic over his head and firing without looking. From the sound of it, he isn’t hitting anything important. “Where’s the damn door!”
“There!” You lean around the crate, immediately retreating when a few bullets hit too close to your face. The door rests about three rows away, around several large crates and over a pile of blankets.
“Go. I’ll cover you.”
Jeongguk shoves at your back, not giving you a chance to debate his decision before he’s standing and firing at the man in the doorway. You don’t dare to look back as you run, relying on your sense of hearing to listen to Jeongguk’s footsteps. You can’t tell if he’s following you, but you hear a shout of pain from the other side of the room, and then Jeongguk’s at your side again, gripping tight to your wrist to pull you through the door.
His car is parked across the street, and the two of you make a break for it, bodies getting soaked from the rain as you sprint across the pavement and into the car just as a few more bullets ring out from the adjacent street corner. The back window shatters and Jeongguk leans out the window to fire back.
“You know,” you shout over the gunfire and screams from civilians. You keep your head ducked but reach to turn the key in the ignition for Jeongguk, who was currently switching the clip in his pistol. “I’m getting pretty tired of being shot at!”
“Yeah?” Jeongguk snaps, hitting the gas so quickly that the tires squeal, drawing black marks onto the asphalt. He keeps one hand out the window, firing at the masked men he passes, and the other on the wheel to steer. “Join the fucking club.”
Jeongguk loses the gunmen on the highway about halfway to Gangnam, the outside of the car riddled with bullets and three of the windows shattered, and Jeongguk seethes the entire drive back. His knuckles bleed white on the steering wheel as he speeds through the back roads, passing any cars that appear in your path and for a second you think that this is how you’re going to die, in a car on fire on the side of the road because Jeongguk couldn’t slow down for one whole second.
He doesn’t stop until he’s driving up his elaborate driveway, only killing the engine when he’s close enough to the front as several of his men storm out of the door.
Your door is yanked open and before you can blink you’re being tugged into Jimin’s arms as he hugs you tightly, not so subtly patting your shoulders and back to check for injuries, holding his jacket over your head to shelter you from the rain as best he could. “What the- Y/N, what the hell happened? We were almost home before Jeongguk got that call and disappeared. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” you say into the fabric of Jimin’s shirt.
“Your shoulder?”
“Oh.” You frown, the dull ache in your shoulder returning tenfold now that the adrenaline was wearing thin. How long had it been since your last dose? Were you even allowed another? “It hurts, but. I’m okay. I promise.”
“Ditch the car,” Jeongguk orders, rounding the back of the car and tossing the keys to Yugyeom. Jinwoo takes the guns from his hands. “At least five kilometers away. Have Bogum follow. Where the fuck is Taehyung?”
Jimin rests his chin on the top of your head as he answers. “He was getting pain killers and heading back to Y/N’s.”
“Call him,” Jeongguk says, stalking back into the house, and wordlessly everyone follows. “He’s going to be pissed-”
“Eonnie!”
All heads snap to the ornate staircase, at the top of which Surin is standing dressed in a pair of loose pajama pants and a small t-shirt. You disentangle yourself from Jimin’s arms, meeting Surin halfway down the stairs and catching her as she jumps into your arms, careful to settle her weight on your right so as not to strain your shoulder. She clutches you in a hug, legs tight around your waist and face smushed into your shoulder as you sink to sit on one of the stairs and hold her close. You haven’t seen more than glimpses of Surin since the office and hadn’t realized how desperately you’ve missed the young girl since.
“Where does it hurt?” Surin asks very seriously, pulling back slightly so she can look at you properly. “Daddy said you were hurt.”
“My shoulder, kid. I hurt my shoulder.”
Surin ducks her head to press tiny kisses along your shoulder. She can’t tell where the bandage is due to your shirt, and you hold your breath when she gets too close, but the little kisses are too light to really apply any pressure.
“That’s what daddy does when I’m sad.”
“You have a very smart dad,” you whisper conspiratorially, aware that Jeongguk and his men were still standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Are you okay?”
“I’m okay! Can we play later?”
“Of course!”
Around you, Jeongguk’s men struggle to collect everything that had been brought to Taiwan along with complying with each of his orders upon his return. Two- no, three- cars need to be disposed of, the new security is coded, there’s four separate lines lit up in his office waiting on calls, but you stay seated halfway up the stairs. Surin rests on your lap, tucking her head beneath your chin and watching her father bark orders. You suggest moving, stowing away in Surin’s room with a movie but she shakes her head, Jimin staring curiously at the two of you from the opposite end of the foyer.
“The housecleaners speak Chinese.”
“What?” You pull back to glance at Surin.
“They speak Chinese and say mean things about dad.”
Surin hesitantly curls her fingers between yours, holding on tightly. For a moment, Jeongguk disappears from view, and then he stands at the foot of the stairs and spots you, surprise etched into his features as if he genuinely had forgotten where the two of you were.
“What’s the code to get into your apartment complex?” Jeongguk asks, somehow sounding even more exhausted than he looked.
“Three, seven, two, nine.”
“Hope you didn’t love that block.”
“Nah.”
Surin glances up at you. She looked tired as hell, but determined to see everything through. “Are you moving in with us?”
“Unless Jeongguk’s just putting my stuff on the street.”
“Daddy wouldn’t do that.”
“No, he wouldn’t.”
The sun sets through the front stain windows but none of the activity in the house slows in the slightest. Jeongguk retreats to his office to finally answer his calls, Yoongi is sent out to pick up food and deliver a message to someone, and then the front door is slamming open to reveal Taehyung sometime after ten.
“Where the f-”
“Language,” you call tiredly, leaning most of your weight against the wall beside you. Surin was asleep now, snoozing into the curl of your neck, and the uncomfortable angle was putting pressure on your shoulder, the fiery pain slowly slinking back through the joint to remind you that no matter what, you still had a damn bullet hole in your arm.
“Y/N!”
Taehyung bounds up the stairs, hesitating at your feet with some kind of internal conflict before ultimately saying fuck it and leaning in to hug you around Surin’s body, his arms shaking around you. “I thought you were fucking dead,” he hisses unsteadily. “I got back to your place, and you know what I saw? The entire damn block is closed off, half of your floor riddled with bullets, the cops told me. Said there were bodies, too. I nearly broke a guy’s jaw before he told me none of them were female.”
“I’m sorry,” you murmur, body squished and aching and fatigued. “I think I left my phone there, Tae, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not you who should be apologizing,” Taehyung sighs, and the restraint was audible in his voice. He settles next to you on the step, soothing a hand through Surin’s hair and lending the warmth of his body to yours.
“Tae?”
He’s quiet, uncharacteristically so, and that scares you. From the first moment you met Taehyung behind your elementary school as children, he’d been a vibrant, too loud presence in your life. From giving you his own damn shoes when he saw yours were falling apart to driving halfway across the city when your first ever date stood you up and blasting cutesy music until you could smile again, it was always his booming laugh that you had come to associate with things being okay.
And if things are okay when he’s laughing, then whatever is going through his head right now is anything but good.
“Listen, love-”
“Taehyung.” Jeongguk stands at the bottom of the stairs again. Everyone else has either been sent out of the house or they’re getting ready for at least a little sleep that night. “I need a word.”
“Yeah, yeah. Be there in a second.” Then, Taehyung looks at you again, something empty and unreadable in his eye. “Just tell me who got you out of there.”
“It was Jeon.”
Taehyung stands wordlessly, reaching for the plastic bag he’d dropped some time ago and fishing a bottle out of its depths. “Was gonna take you to get new drapes, y’know. Since the ones in your apartment are ugly as fuck.” He stares at the label of the bottle, shoulders curling downward. “Were ugly as fuck. Guess you don’t need them anymore, huh.”
You swallow uselessly around the lump in your throat, a sharp sting at the corner of your eye. “No.”
“Here.” Taehyung holds out his hand and drops two pills onto your palm. “They’ll help with the pain. Won’t feel nearly as good as the morphine, but at least if you start getting addicted to this shit it’ll be easier to get help for it. Next dose is in the morning.” He waits until you’ve taken both pills before leaning down to press a strong, lingering kiss to your forehead. “Get some rest. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
At the bottom of the stairs Taehyung looks at you again, his features clouded in the darkness that has fallen over the front foyer. “I’ll tell you something, Y/N. There’s a reason I didn’t want you anywhere near this life. It eats at you sometimes, knowing that any moment with your loved ones could be your last, that one day I won’t get a text from Jeongguk saying he’s gotten you away, but I’ll come to find someone crying. Someone getting all fucking choked up before telling me-” His jaw clenches, fists buried in the pockets of his jeans. “I’m sorry. Don’t listen to me.”
Taehyung turns to leave, your voice catching in your throat as you try to call him back, to beg him not to leave you alone. There are tears welling in your eyes, and you don’t even bother trying to fight against them, but you struggle to keep your sobs quiet and secret, struggle not to jostle Surin in your arms because right now, with remnants of pain in your arm and the memories of bodies falling prey to bullets right in front of you, being alone is the last thing you could possible want.
But slumped against the wall and tasting the track of your own tears on your lips, alone is all that you are.
Midnight.
Two in the morning.
Maybe it’s sunrise.
You lost track of time too long ago, when sleep proved fruitless even after three tries and even sneaking into Taehyung’s room to sleep after putting Surin to bed. When he hadn’t come back from his meeting with Jeongguk, though, you had wandered back into the hall and stopped. And when your legs had just given out, leaving you to sit against the wall with a blanket around your shoulders, you hadn’t bothered to move.
“Y/N?” It’s Jeongguk. He’s standing at the end of the hall with a hand on a doorknob, and oh. This must be where his room is. “Are you okay?”
Your voice is hoarse from crying. “Define okay.”
Jeongguk curses under his breath, crossing the hall to kneel before you. His hair is gathered beneath a ball cap, and the dark, deep, bags beneath his eyes manage to stand out even in the limited light the moon provides. His eyes widen, likely when he registers the tear tracks still staining your cheeks, and he hurries to wipe them clean with both of his thumbs. “Shit. Shit, Y/N, is it your shoulder-?”
“Don’t care.”
“Is it your room?”
“Stop.”
“I’ll get your stuff after they remove all the police tape from the complex, Y/N-”
“Jeongguk, stop-”
“We’re going to find who did this, okay? They can’t just threaten you and expect to get away with it-”
“Jeongguk, stop!”
Jeongguk flinches back, surprise flashing through his eyes. He drops his hands from your cheeks, shifting his weight to his heels to create some distance between the two of you as you furiously rub at your eyes with the corner of the blanket. You don’t even remember which room you picked this out from, but it’s soft and it’s warm and it holds you together better than you can do on your own.
“How?” Your voice is nothing more than a choked whisper, falling into the depths between your body and Jeongguk’s. His eyes, which had previously been staring with intent at the floor, flicker back to yours. “How can you do this?”
Jeongguk gestures to the blanket. “May I?”
“What?” You blink, confused as Jeongguk tries to lift the blanket, but it’s curled around your arm and wrapped around your knees.
“Trust me when I say you can’t be alone right now.”
There’s no fight left in you. Allowing Jeongguk to maneuver the blanket, you watch warily as he sits next to you against the wall before bringing the cloth around both of your bodies, and you have to admit that the newfound warmth relaxes some of the tension in your body. You huddle a little closer to Jeongguk, and maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, but you swear you feel him tense up at the proximity.
“My goal.”
“What?”
“How I can do this.” Jeongguk pulls his hat off, running shaky fingers through his hair as he collects his thoughts. When he speaks again, he stares at the bill of the cap. “Keep your goal in mind. You have to become numb to the other shit-”
“Like the murder.”
His jaw tenses. “If I want to keep Surin safe, I can’t get caught up on deaths of insignificant people. And I know what you’re thinking,” Jeongguk says before you can get a word in. “Why not leave if I’m really trying to keep my little girl safe? If I’ve got all these resources and allies, why not use them to my advantage and get out of the country?”
“It makes sense,” you insist.
“It does,” Jeongguk agrees, thumbing at the logo on the hat. Some American baseball team neither of you could bother to pay attention to. “Until I remember the countless people who want me dead. I have reason to believe that the attack in Taiwan is linked to someone who’s been trying to kill me for my entire life. And if they’ve been after me for the last twenty-eight years, then there’s more than enough evidence to suggest they’ll target Surin at the first sign of her-”
“Twenty-eight?”
Jeongguk glances at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Huh?”
“You’re twenty-eight.”
“Yes?” His eyes are wide and expressive, and you notice there’s the briefest flash of color within the dark irises. “Did I not mention that?”
“No.” You find yourself smiling, hiding it behind the blanket as Jeongguk frowns. “Surin?”
“An accident when I returned from studying in America.”
“You studied in America?” You ask, choosing to bypass the ‘accident’ comment. Although you knew it had to be true- there’s no way a mob boss in his right mind would choose to conceive a child if he wasn’t sure he could keep them safe or leave their line of business- but that was never a topic parents wanted to discuss.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“Clearly.” You pause. “But, Jeongguk. About what you said, about having a goal in mind to keep going. I don’t… I don’t have that.”
“I know.” Hesitantly, Jeongguk leans his head against your own, a solid weight that somehow corrals your thoughts back into place and reminds you of how entirely exhausted you had been for days. “When I mentioned your name as a nanny application, Taehyung nearly blew my head off. His only family.”
Something uncomfortable curls into your chest at the word. Taehyung was all you had left as family, but with his larger than life personality and natural affection, you could often forget that he had no one else, either. Family to you was the people you chose to let in, and Taehyung had always tried to let in more people than you.
That didn’t mean they always stayed.
“How did you know?”
“Pardon?”
“That I was in trouble.”
Jeongguk sighs, eyes closed in what could easily be mistaken for peace. “There’s only one woman I know who drives white SUVs. If she knows about you, then it’s a damn good thing I’ve gotten you out of the public.” Your chest tightens, that same shortness of breath you’ve been feeling all day reappearing. “Y/N.”
“Y-yes?”
“I have Lee Hyunsik on speed dial.”
“Hyunsik?”
Jeongguk nods, his head jostling against yours. “Best in the hemisphere at making fakes. Taehyung… wants me to get you out. Say the word, and I’ll have three new identities for you by the morning. You’ll be able to disappear anywhere in the world regardless of how many faceless gunmen have seen you.”
“Wait, Jeongguk- what?” You shift to face him properly, the blanket falling from your shoulder, but he doesn’t look at you, expression twisted into something you can only define as embarrassed. “You want me to disappear?”
“No! No, I don’t. But I’ve already put your life in danger too many times, Y/N. You were shot because of me, your apartment is destroyed, and I’d understand entirely if you don’t want to be affiliated with my name anymore. Hell, I wouldn’t want to be affiliated with me
“Jeongguk, no.” He looks hopelessly confused as he glances at you again, as if the very thought of you not wanting to get on the next flight out of the country and away from him was foreign. You struggle to find the proper words to define the feeling in your chest, the swirl of your stomach and itch on your palms. “I’m… I’m too invested. I can’t just abandon Surin like that. I don’t know if you see it, but she opens up to me in ways that she doesn’t with the rest of your men-”
“I know.”
“Then,” you lick your dry lips. “Then you probably know that I can’t walk away from this. I won’t lie, it’s good to know you have a way to get me out when this is all over, but it’s not time for me to leave yet.”
“When this is all over.”
“I’m not stupid, Jeon. I can tell when things are going wrong and situations are escalating. And I might not have something to keep going for yet, but I might find that someday.”
“You won’t find it here.”
Jeongguk’s features are soft, you notice. In the moonlight, without the sharp glare of a gun or an order to weigh down on his eyes and mouth, he looks younger. His eyes are wide, expression open and trusting and so incredibly different from the fearless leader you’ve come to know him as. His hand finds the side of your neck, warm and strong against the skin as his thumb presses to a pulse point.
“I might.”
He shuffles closer, legs coming to rest on either side of yours. There’s a smile on his lips, faint and sad, but it’s there.
“You won’t.”
“I could.”
The blanket is all but forgotten, pooling onto the floor around the two of you. Jeongguk’s thumb ever so slowly strokes along your skin. It’s not cold in the house, but a shiver wracks down your spine, and you can’t even find the strength to blame it on the fatigue.
“You don’t know when to quit, do you?”
You smile gently. “You should know the answer to that, Jeon.”
Jeongguk kisses you slowly, carefully fitting his lips to yours as if afraid the bubble of the moment would shatter at the slightest pressure. Your eyes fall shut as he kisses you with gentle ease, your own hand curling into the hair at Jeongguk’s nape to keep him close.
There’s warmth in the way Jeongguk cradles your face in his hands, the touch of his lips and his fingers light and tender, and it terrifies you beyond belief, but you shut those thoughts off in favor of relishing in this one beautiful moment. This moment of Jeongguk pressing soft kisses to your lips, your nose, and your wet eyelashes before pulling back.
“Go,” he murmurs against your lips. “You’re falling asleep on me.”
“M’not,” you insist, even as you struggle to keep your eyes open, leaning heavily into Jeongguk’s embrace.
“Stubborn.”
For a long moment, Jeongguk fits his palms against your jaw and leans his forehead against yours, his unsteady breathing matching your own. When he pulls away for good, the air around you is cold.
Hooking his arm beneath your legs, Jeongguk lifts you with infuriating ease, allowing you to curl into the warmth of his chest even if only for a few precious seconds as he carries you in the direction of Taehyung’s room. He says something to you in the doorway, but you’re asleep before you can even think to listen.
Jeongguk makes good on his promise to retrieve your things from your old apartment, and you come back from a run one hot morning to see Jimin and Jeongguk moving boxes into the room on the second floor that you’ve claimed as your own. Taehyung has Surin in the backyard, playing a game with her amidst the added security before he’ll bring in the doctor Jeongguk found for your physical therapy- a real doctor.
The men are arguing over whether to move around the dresser in your room when you get back, your tail for the day heading off to the detached garage. There’s a pile of Taehyung’s clothes in the corner from how often he’s been staying with you lately, hesitant to even let you go downstairs on your own to make some food. He’d even tried to follow you into the bathroom a few days ago, citing how the two of you used to be fine with it as children, but your look of disdain had him backing off quickly.
“I still think we should remodel,” Jeongguk’s saying, placing a box of your things on your bed.
“Yeah?” Jimin snorts, teasing. “Room next door is empty. Could knock it down, make a bathroom and huge closet.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“Thought this was a temporary thing,” you say, taking a long drink from your water bottle and the men startle, looking away guiltily.
Jeongguk shrugs. “Just want you to be comfortable here. It is my fault you lost your apartment.”
You frown. “Will you let that go?”
“Eventually. Maybe.”
“How’s the shoulder, Y/N?” Jimin intercedes, opening one of your boxes and hooking a pair of your panties onto one finger.
You flush, yanking the underwear away from Jimin and shoving it back into the box. “Fine. Better. Don’t touch my stuff.” It was true that your shoulder was feeling better, even if it had only been close to two weeks since the attack, but the medication Taehyung had managed to get for you was good for the pain. It didn’t bring the satisfyingly delicious rush of warmth that accompanied the morphine, but it kept the pain to a dull minimum deep beneath your skin. “Is the news still talking about the apartment attack?”
Jeongguk makes a face, running his fingers through his hair. He was dressed down today, and belatedly you realize this has to be one of the first- or only- times you’ve seen Jeongguk in a t-shirt, and the site was honestly far too distracting. “Yes. Probably the biggest attack in recent Seodaemun-gu history, so there’s no way they’ll let it go so quickly. Just means the attackers are going to stay hidden longer.”
“How the hell can you do this without going insane?” You mutter, reaching around Jimin for some clothes and a towel.
“You know how,” Jeongguk says, busying himself with unfolding and refolding an old blanket of yours.
Neither of you have brought up the kiss from the other week, not for lack of want but rather more for the lack of time. In the wake of recent attacks Jeongguk had been busier than ever, sometimes disappearing into his office or out the front door before the sun had begun to rise and not returning home until long after you’ve put Surin to bed.
And she’s quieter than usual, coloring in her room or playing with flowers in the backyard with you. You know that Jeongguk’s distance is heavily affecting her, but you don’t know how to bridge that gap.
“Okay,” Jimin drawls, looking between the two of you. “Let’s keep the awkward tension to a minimum, why don’t we?”
“Still your boss, Park.”
“Sure thing, Jeonggukie.”
Heavy footsteps echo from the stairs before Taehyung and three other men you don’t know well stand in the doorway, the air surrounding them immediately chilling the easygoing atmosphere that had fallen over the room. Taehyung glances briefly at you before staring directly at Jeongguk, news on the tip of his tongue.
“Surin?”
“Got her with Bogum. It’s Hunchul.”
“Fuck.”
Jeongguk pushes out of the room, Taehyung hot on his heel as he immediately starts relaying the news he’d gotten. You make a beeline for the bathroom, showering quickly because you know Jeongguk will insist it to be a closed meeting before you or someone else ultimately crashes it, but there’s always the chance Surin will need your attention more.
When you sneak into Jeongguk’s office a few minutes later, he and Taehyung are bent over his desk and reading through a few thick files. “He just returned,” Taehyung’s saying. “He wasn’t in Yongsan when we got back, but he just re-appeared on our radar last night. Alibi hasn’t been confirmed yet, either.”
“He came quietly?”
“Absolutely not.”
Then, every one of Jeongguk’s men are moving, carrying boxes and guns and loading the vans quickly. But unlike the trip to Taiwan, two vans leave almost immediately, before Jeongguk even gets a chance to leave his office.
“What’s going on?” You ask, following behind Jeongguk as he leaves.
“We’ve caught the man who threatened you outside of Surin’s school,” Jeongguk says, accepting a pistol from Jinwoo as he passes. “Jung Hunchul. I’ve been wary of him for a while, but his alibis have stopped adding up recently and no one can confirm his whereabouts for the week surrounding the threat. I’m sick of people thinking they can do whatever the fuck they want around here, sick of people forgetting that we’re here for one thing only.”
Jeongguk wrenches the door to a slim black car open, and you stand on the opposite side. “I’m coming, too.”
“No.”
“Jeongguk, you said you need me to confirm the voice.”
“I asked if you’d be able to. I really don’t want you leaving the neighborhood for at least another week.”
“Not up to you.”
Jeongguk fixes you with a flat look. “Can’t you humor me? Once?”
The driver standing by the front door fixes his gloves very obviously. “Sir, we’ll need to leave now to arrive at the location promptly.”
“Right,” Jeongguk says. “Let’s go.” He slips into the seat but before the car has a chance to pull away from the curb you quickly hop into the back seat next to him and slam the door shut. Jeongguk doesn’t look surprised, but he does look angry. “Why.”
“I calm you down.” You say hurriedly, grasping at straws. “That’s… that’s what you wanted to say that day, right?”
Jeongguk unbuttons his suit jacket, not relaxing against the smooth leather of the seats, but he does holster his gun on the hip you can’t see. He reaches for the console between the two front seats and pulls out a pair of gloves. “Something of that nature.”
“Do I… Do I remind you of Surin’s mother?”
Snorting, Jeongguk presses the wrinkles out of the gloves with his thumb. “You’re nothing like Halla. Her idea of a date was evaluating the new recruit’s mental stability during their early days of training and changing stimulations. Or, my personal favorite, threatening to throw our unborn child out a window.”
“Jeongguk…”
He blinks at you, his expression far away for the longest moment. A chill breaks out along your skin as Jeongguk appears to stare right through you, focused on memories of a past you may never know, may never want to know about, then he shakes his head and shoves his gloves into his jacket pocket. “Forget it. I’m sorry for bringing it up.” You want to argue, to remind him that you were the one to bring up Surin’s mother- Halla- and apologize for dragging up a dark past, but Jeongguk speaks again before you can try. “Did you take your meds this morning?”
“Yeah.”
“Shoulder’s feeling better?” You nod. “Good. Last night Surin told me she misses climbing all over you.”
You smile, glancing at your hands- curled against your thighs- and hope it isn’t as obvious to Jeongguk as it feels to you that Surin’s gotten under your skin in a way you never could have seen coming. “I miss that, too.”
“Good. Weren’t you supposed to watch her tonight?”
“Yoongi stayed behind, didn’t he?”
“Probably not the best person to be left alone with my daughter.”
“Why not?” You tease, poking Jeongguk’s bicep. It’s hard as fuck. What the fuck. “She’ll be hacking the U.S. Embassy by the end of the night.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Jeongguk falls silent as he gets a text, his attention brought back to the issue at hand. You want to ask what exactly this is for, who Hunchul was, and where the car was headed, but Jeongguk doesn’t look up once from his phone and you have a feeling deep in your stomach like a stone disrupting the soft dirt at the bottom of a shallow pond, that he wouldn’t want to explain.
The car drives to a dirty district at the edge of Gangnam, the houses getting smaller and the streets less pristine the further you drive. Curiosity sits heavy on the tip of your tongue as you try to sit still in the silent car; the only sounds those of Jeongguk’s thumbs against his phone screen and your shoulder, which you’re beginning to swear you can hear.
“Who’s Hunchul?” You finally ask, the words tumbling past your lips without your consent.
Jeongguk sighs, clicking his phone off and staring at the headrest in front of him. “Officially, he’s in charge of recruiting people, but I’ve always had issues keeping him in line. His father worked for my father, but Hunchul didn’t join me until a few years ago after being raised and trained in a specific way. He… he works in human trafficking, unofficially. I have tried- for years- to end his work but he’s got too many connections through his own family. Recently, he’s been dipping into child trafficking. I’ve been planning with Jimin the best way to get rid of him, since I don’t think he’s even worthy of being killed by one of my guns.”
“Holy shit,” you breathe, slumping against your seat. You were aware of some illegality of the underground, of trafficking and kidnappings, the way money bled the rivers red and stained the pockets of police detectives and city politicians. In the city, you would have to live under an isolated rock not to know that things were fucked up, but one of Jeongguk’s own men working in child trafficking?
“You know what he asked me once?” Jeongguk asks, his voice barely restrained behind his teeth. His fist was tense against his slacks, jaw set and eyes blazing forward. You shake your head. “He asked me when he could put Surin on the market a month after she was born. A fucking month. I nearly beat him to death that afternoon before his father stepped in, but now there’s no one left to stop me.”
The car eventually stops in front of what looks to be an abandoned warehouse nestled in the middle of a block of rundown houses. There’s a dumpster in front of the car and a small hospital with the windows boarded up behind. Jeongguk tugs his gloves onto his hands and looks at you for the first time in a while.
“Stay in the car.”
When Jeongguk reaches the storm cellar one of the three burly men guarding it open the door for him, immediately closing it once he’s disappeared inside and going back to keeping watch. It’s cold in the car, the hum of the air conditioning the only sound between you and the driver. One of the guards keeps staring right at the car, and though you’re almost sure he can’t see you, you also can’t help the shiver that trickles down your spine.
The driver catches your eye in the rearview mirror. “Would you like to circle the block, ma’am? These things don’t often take long.”
“No,” you murmur, lips pursed. Jeongguk’s phone was still sitting on the seat where he’d dropped it while talking about Hunchul, and you know exactly what to do, scrolling through your own phone to find a thread of messages.
Grabbing Jeongguk’s phone, you quickly push yourself out of the car, ignoring the calls of the driver behind you and stalking across the street to the guards, fake confidence written in the lines of the scowl on your face. Dear God, you hoped these men were stupid.
“No unauthorized entry,” one of the men says, an eye patch over his left eye. “Shopping mall is three blocks over.”
“Hilarious,” you reply, holding Jeongguk’s phone between two fingers and waving it in front of yourself. “Your boss forgot his phone. Wants me to deliver it.” Quickly, you flash your own screen at the men, just enough time to see the bold TaeTae contact, but not the content if they were really looking.
The shorter man looks uncertain, glancing at his taller colleagues. “Lady, we really can’t-”
“Oh?” You cross your arms, staring with raised brows at the men. “Do you want to be the reason this goes to shit?”
“Jesus, fine.” The first man reaches to lift the cellar door, gesturing for you to enter. “Drop the phone and leave, got it?”
“Sure.”
The storm cellar leads to a dark hallway, and with no doors or options other than to follow the hallway or retreat back to the car you head deeper into the building. There are only a few lights littered on the floor, illuminating the hallway in poor lights and showing the dust circling the air, and graphic, bloody graffiti on the walls. Not soon enough, you hear voices within the building, and then what sounds like a very, very violent punch. That, or someone just broke a chair over their own damn head.
When the hallway ends, it opens to a room that looked like it had once been a lobby with several doors around the room that led to different floors and areas of the building. You stay close to the wall, hiding in the shadows as you look for the best place to stay. You hadn’t actually thought this through very well, hadn’t thought of what you’d say or the excuse you would give when you were caught snooping around in here. Jeongguk already didn’t even want you a block away from his home, but if he saw that you left the car?
Jeongguk stands on the other side of the room, his jacket discarded on the back of a nearby office chair and sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The black baseball cap he’s taken to wearing is pulled low over his face, his lips turned down in a deep frown. Beside him, tied to a rickety wooden chair is a man you assume to be Jung Hunchul, his mouth bloody and hair matted with something that was either dirt or more blood. Jimin stands on the other side, the hand holding a pistol hanging leisurely at his side, and a few more of Jeongguk’s men stand scattered around the room, rifles held against their chests.
Taehyung stands adjacent to where you’re hidden, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He doesn’t look away from Hunchul, his jaw tensed with thinly veiled fury.
“I’ll ask again,” Jeongguk begins, standing in front of Hunchul. You take the split second of complete concentration to move out of the hallway and dart behind a wooden crate between Bogum and Hoseok. “Why are you threatening my daughter?”
No answer.
From your angle you can’t see Hunchul’s face, but you can imagine he’s staring at Jeongguk with cold, calculated rage. Jeongguk waits ten, fifteen more seconds before he’s pulling his arm back and punching his fist against Hunchul’s jaw with enough force to knock the chair over.
“Get him back up,” Jeongguk spits. Jimin and another man quickly lift the chair.
“Wasting your time, Jeon.” Hunchul drawls, spitting a mouthful of blood and what might be a tooth onto the floor. “I got jack to do with your little problem.”
“No? Care to clear your alibis, then?”
Hunchul shrugs as best he can with his arms tied behind his back. “Didn’t feel like clocking in, boss. Playing hookey. Fucking some prostitute on your bed. Take your pick.”
This time when Jeongguk punches, he nearly falls over himself from the force.
Hunchul’s nose is bleeding steadily when he’s raised back up, the blood dripping into his mouth and staining his terrifying grin red. Your stomach twists, eyes wide, and though you desperately want to look away or run back to the car, you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve heard that voice before. There, on the outskirts of your memory, you can hear a warbled tone- they’re giving bad news, someone’s crouching in front of you and ignoring the way you flinch, the hand that grips your shoulder is not warm-
“Jimin’s got pictures of you hanging around Zhang’s territory.” Jeongguk’s says dangerously. You know what he sounds like when he’s hanging on by just a thread, and can tell the situation is creeping towards that. “Care to explain?”
“Can’t a guy visit his own father?” Hunchul asks, spitting out another glob of blood. “You picked the prison, Jeon. Could’ve chosen somewhere gay.”
“God, you’re a piece,” Jeongguk mutters, sweeping his head around to survey the room. You drop your head before he can spot you, but that doesn’t stop your heart from kicking furiously at your chest. Where the hell have you heard that voice? “Should’ve killed you when Hoseok was on that stakeout.”
“Yeah?” Hunchul’s laughing, chuckling earnestly as if his life wasn’t hanging from Jeongguk’s damn pinky finger at this very moment. “Best shot you got, Jeon. Why not let him have at it? Right here, right now?”
“You’re not worth the ammo, Jung.”
“No, I suppose not.”
“Why are you threatening my goddam daughter-”
“Jeon,” Jimin murmurs. A warning. Jeongguk does not heed it.
Hunchul snorts. “I don’t need to threaten that girl. You think she’s safe? Think you can get her a pretty babysitter, shoot ‘em up a little and everyone will forget how much of a piece of shit you are? No one’s forgotten, Jeon. And it’ll do you good to follow suit.” Hunchul laughs again, sounding a little strained but doing a frighteningly good job at hiding it. “Wouldn’t want to go to your gorgeous house, only to see- oh no. Surin’s little bed is empty, and what’s this? The nanny is dead! Such a shame, I’m sure she was fun in bed-”
“Shut the fuck up-”
Then, Hunchul grins up at Jeongguk, a thick scar running from his hairline to the bridge of his nose. “Tell me. Have you reconsidered my offer? Surin’s at a great age, Jeonny boy. Clients would line up and down the damn block just to get a damn piece of her-”
Jeongguk whirls on his heel to rip the pistol out of Jimin’s hand, pressing the barrel to the center of Hunchul’s forehead in one swift move. Jeongguk’s face is horrifyingly free of emotions from what you can see under the shadow of the cap, his finger on the trigger and not the slightest hint of uncertainty in the way he holds his gun, no quiver to his arm.
Hunchul’s laughter dies in his throat.
“I,” Jeongguk says, voice low and deadly. “Will give you one more chance. Why the fuck were you threatening my daughter outside of her school?”
“I’ve never been to your kid’s school.”
Jeongguk’s chuckle sounds hauntingly empty. “I don’t believe you.”
Hunchul spits a few choice curses mixed with declarations that Jeongguk was crazy, that his men should turn on him before he shoots them in their faces, too, and something clicks in the back of your mind.
You know exactly where you’ve heard that voice before.
“Go to hell, Jeon.”
And it wasn’t outside of Surin’s school.
“I’ll see you there.”
“Jeongguk, wait-!”
A shot rings out.
Hunchul’s body slumps in the chair, a gruesome wound ripped through the middle of his forehead, fleshy blood dripping down his features, dead eyes wide in horror. From what you can tell, there is no exit wound. Blood and flesh pool into Hunchul’s open mouth, fresh splatter joining the layers of blood on the wall behind his head.
Jeongguk spits at Hunchul’s feet. “Rest terribly, bastard.”
“Oh my God- Y/N!?”
Taehyung’s voice breaks through the heavy smog settling thickly in your mind, but it does not register. You can’t look away from Hunchul’s dead body, the task made easier by the way Jeongguk startles back to reality, turning hurriedly and meeting your frantic expression with his own wide eyes and unblocking the view.
Your legs give out and you fall hard on your knees, Hunchul’s frozen eyes appearing to follow the movement. You were going to be sick, or maybe you were about to pass out, the room spinning hurriedly around your icy body.
Someone throws something over your head- a jacket, maybe- and you think these are Taehyung’s arms as someone forces you to your feet and crushes you into a hug. Or maybe it’s Jeongguk’s jacket, his voice close to your ear when he shouts, “I told you to wait in the damn car!”
“What the fuck is she doing here?” Taehyung spits, and a bruising arm around your waist urges you to what you hope is the exit, your sense of direction thrown off in the dark. The fabric smells like Jeongguk, you think.
“You think I wanted her here?”
“I think you’re fucking pushing it, Jeon.”
Jeongguk’s voice bounces back in an echo, which you pray meant you’ve reached the hallway. “Watch your damn mouth, Kim.”
“I will not!”
The jacket is ripped off of your head and you flinch in the sudden sunlight, turning your face into the nearest chest- Taehyung’s, thankfully- and trying not to hear the way Jeongguk threatens the lives of his guards for letting you into the building.
“Look at me,” Taehyung’s whispering, touching your cheek gently and focusing your attention briefly on his shaky face. The edges of your vision are hazy. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
“M-my head, I think.”
“Your head?” Taehyung frowns, pushing back at your hairline for any cuts or bruising. God, you were going to faint. “Did you hit it?”
“No- fuck, ow- shit, just. Shut up. Please. Fuck, ow-”
There are two of Jeongguk’s faces swimming in front of your eyes when he rejoins Taehyung’s side. “I wanted you in that car for a reason, Y/N.”
“Little-” You sway dangerously, Taehyung’s hands tight on your elbows to keep you upright. “Little late for that.”
Jeongguk clenches his teeth, looking about ready to kill the next person to cross his path before looking back to you. “Go the fuck home with Taehyung. Or, if you’re so intent on ignoring what I say, go find somewhere else to live. I’m sure real estate in Seodaemun-gu is low right now.”
“Jeongguk-”
“Don’t,” Jeongguk snarls, pointing a finger in your face. “What else am I supposed to do for you, Y/N, if you don’t care enough for your own damn life that you’ll ignore all of my orders-?”
“I don’t work for you, Jeon-!”
“Yes, you do-”
“No.” Taehyung has to steady you again, and vaguely you hear him calling for Jimin across the street, hear the other men shouting to clean up the body and the blood. “I work for a single father, not a mob boss.”
Jeongguk’s expression hardens, the sun shadowing his features beneath the cap. “Get out of my sight, then. Go do your job.”
“I’d love to.”
Taehyung supports you on one side, Jimin hurrying to your other when you spin on your heel too quickly and knock yourself off balance as another wave of pain floods your head. It’s entirely unlike the dull ache of your shoulder, piercing your skull and making even the warm summer afternoon feel absolutely brutal.
Between the two of them, Taehyung and Jimin somehow get you into a car; Jimin barking an address as Taehyung carefully adjusts your pliant, weak body to lay against his own.
“You really shouldn’t have done that,” Taehyung murmurs, carding his fingers through your hair in an old habit. Jimin has your hand between both of his, trying to rub warmth back into your cold fingers.
You want to ask him which part of the day he was referring to, but your tongue lays too heavy in your mouth and your thoughts stay jumbled as the car speeds through the back roads.
The staircase is cold and damp, the warm lighting doing nothing to offset the horror movie vibe the hallway gives off. You’ve never been to this part of the house before, and had honestly been hoping you never would, but things change and enough has changed that you need to take this chance.
The stairs end and open into an empty classroom with one door on the left.
Knocking on the door, you stick your hands into your pockets and shift your weight from foot to foot. You knew there was no way for you to get caught down here, but that didn’t stop the anxiety settling deep within your chest from planting extra seeds to make root.
Hoseok opens the door not a minute later with a wide grin.
“I was wondering how long it would take you.”
A/N: I’m out of work for the next 9 weeks due to my studies;;;; I made a ko-fi account if you guys want to help me out at all, but please don’t feel obligated!! As I’m still in Seoul, I can’t tell when I’ll be able to update anything, but I’ll keep trying to work on my projects;;
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