#I’ll try and sneak in some events from the series but again I’m only on | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

goldustwomun · 2 years

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feel again (e.m.)

pairing: eddie munson x best friend! fwb! reader

summary: sleeping with your best friend was never a good idea, and though he’s confessed his feelings to you, they were feelings he felt for an entirely different girl.

warnings: a shit ton of angst, of swearing, lots of hurt but yanno what follows hurt! comfort! fluff! resolution! i had to adapt the season’s events for my plot and tbfh, i’m worried it’s a little slow in the build-up and i can’t write action to save my life -- but i think the ending makes it worth it!!!

wc: 6.1k+

note: i’m in tears! i can’t believe its done, i wrote a fic! a series! i’ll admit, not sure if it’s my best writing but i can genuinely say i had so much fun writing it; i have people asking me about eddie and whether he’ll end up alright and honestly, everyone’s love and support has kept me going when i was about ready to give up and call it a day, so please, please, enjoy! reblog! leave a comment! i love you all <3

read part one - part two

Eddie had been missing for two days, and you were starting to lose it.

What a fucking jerk. To have sought you out that night at the party, showered you in kisses and apologises and conveniently left out the fact that he was on the run from the police and Chrissy was–

You couldn’t think about her. That burning in your throat, the bitter taste of bile, intensified when you thought about her. Hadn’t it been just last week when you’d imagined, or rather fantasised, of her hurting? It was an irrational, intrusive thought – one you were sure you hadn’t actually meant to come true.

But you were unbelievably petty and emotional and so fucking lonely without your best friend, and she was a living, breathing, annoyingly cheerful reminder of everything you no longer had.

Was.

Because now she’s gone. And as much as you hated her guts only days earlier, you couldn’t help but wallow in the sorrow you felt now, knowing the gruesome end she had met.

She was gone, sure, but so was Eddie. He hadn’t reached out to you since the bathroom incident, when Nancy had found you frozen to the spot an hour later. She was speaking to you, words muffled and unintelligible against the ringing in your ears.

You remember odd bits and pieces, like a puzzle missing some of its pieces – Chrissy. Dead. Trailer. Eddie.

You’d come to when you heard his name, brows furrowed in worry and confusion as she explained what everyone in town was now talking about, what everyone now believed about Eddie.

Eddie Munson had corrupted Chrissy – made her a satan-loving, drug addict, just like him. He lured her back to his trailer, a quiet, almost desolate part of town, where he brutally murdered her.

It was all a fucking lie, you knew it.

There was something else going on here, but the devastation you felt, a never-ending cycle of fear and concern, had you bedridden since you’d found out. Your parents had hounded the police to station officers at your house, convinced Eddie would try to get in contact.

They worried you’d meet the same fate, and no matter how much you argued that it was all bullshit, they’d confined you to your room, no visitors allowed – not even Nancy, Steve and Robin.

That didn’t stop them from sneaking in, though. Hawkin’s finest weren’t actually all that great, and come 9 o’clock, the two officers stationed outside would be snoring so loud from their ‘tactically’ placed police cars that your friends would easily climb up the side of your house where you’d greet them through the window.

You told them they could use the front door, your parents weren’t home and not even a pack of demadogs could wake the two snoozing officers. But it was ‘about the principal’ as Steve put it.

So every night since, you’d leave your window open for them to update you on what they’d learned, and most importantly, whether anyone had found Eddie.

“We found him!” you heard Robin call from outside your window.

You wasted no time, shoving your feet into your sneakers, grabbing your flashlight and a pocket knife because the town was really taking paranoid to a whole new level since Eddie had been accused of murder and reported missing.

You shimmied down the drainpipe, landing with a hard thud on the ground. Pain shot up your calves but you ignored it, instead focusing your attention on your friends in front of you.

“And?” you prompted impatiently, unable to stand still and wishing to whatever God or all-powerful being watching you now that Eddie was fine, that he hadn’t been found or met the same fucked-up end as Chrissy.

“Well, Max said she saw him running from his trailer, th– that night. It was suspicious because he looked afraid and why would a murderer run like a little girl from their intended murdered victim. And then Steve and I, well it was a fluke, really, can’t believe we caught it–”

“Robin! Get to the point, where is he?”

“Right, right. Reefer Rick’s place. It’s abandoned, he’s in jail, I think. On Lover’s Lake,” she managed to explain eventually. You knew you shouldn’t be mad at them, felt that sting of regret after scolding Robin, but they didn’t know about the guilt coursing through your veins every day since he’d disappeared.

It was your fault, and no matter what anyone said, your mind couldn’t explain the thoughts away. You had pushed him into Chrissy’s arms. And when she died, he’d wasted precious time – time he could have spent getting away – to find you.

So you excused your temper, promising yourself to apologise to Robin later. “Okay, then what are we waiting for? Let’s go,” you announced, taking all of one step before Steve stepped into your path, stopping you from walking to his car.

“About that…” he trailed off. He looked afraid, like he was certain you’d start swinging any moment. “You’re not coming.” He was right to look afraid, you decided.

“Move, Steve,” you insisted, attempting to push past him but he held his grown, all crossed arms and stern stare. The others mimicked his stance, and you knew they were in agreement.

“Why?” was all you asked.

“Because last time something like this happened, you almost didn’t make it,” Nancy interjected before anyone else could speak. She was the only person you trusted as much as you had Eddie, having known her since the two of you were in diapers.

While you weren’t a ‘trouble’ child per se, it had always been Nancy’s voice of reason that had prevented you from getting caught countless times.

And it was Nancy you had blatantly ignored when you’d jumped in front of the Mind Flayer to save Max.

You’d never spoken about it with her since then, having brushed it under a carpet in your mind, locked the door and tossed the key. You didn’t like thinking about what would have happened if Billy hadn’t intervened, but it was instinct and you didn’t regret any of it. You couldn’t.

“Well that’s not an excuse, Eleven’s always throwing herself in front of the–”

“She has super powers! Don’t be stupid! You don’t!” Nance scolded, pushing in front of Steve to speak directly to you, face to face where you couldn’t hide. “We can’t let you come, not this time. We all discussed it and you’re just too much of a liability. The cops are still watching you, the whole town is because–”

“What? Because they know I was fucking the freak they’re hunting?” you stated crudely, eyes glued to the floor. Your head was shouting at you to shut up but your heart was aching too much to care. You felt that surge of senseless anger and, unfortunately for your friends, they were the only ones around to aim it at.

“You’re all acting like you wouldn’t sacrifice yourself for anyone else here. You’ve all done it countless times. Fended off the Demogorgon, Demadogs, the Mind Flayer – how is this any different?”

“Because you love him, sweets. You love Eddie so much that we’re afraid you’ll give up everything for him.” Robin’s words did little to soothe you, and though you knew she was right (they all were, really), you couldn’t be stopped.

“If you don’t let me go, I’ll wake up those cops and send them straight to him. To Lover’s Lake.”

Silence.

You were as shocked as they were, mouth agape at what you had just threatened. But you needed it to work because if you didn’t see Eddie soon, scold him a little for acting like such a fucking idiot, then have him explain what actually happened – fuck, you were driving yourself crazy.

“You wouldn’t do that,” Nancy called you out, not taking the bait. She could see through your facade, like a cat scrambling for safety in a pool too big, biting, scratching its way out – anything to escape the dread creeping in. “We’re going, you're staying.”

You watched them leave, gaze unforgiving.

It was only when they backed out of your driveway that you collapsed, sobs clawing their way out of your mouth as you held yourself tight, squeezing once, twice, three times like Eddie would.

The legs of your jeans were caked in dirt but all you could focus on was the fact that they were right, if you went, if Eddie was in any kind of danger, you’d throw yourself in, head first, to save him. You’d jump in front of whatever it was that had murdered Chrissy, would let yourself meet the same fate in under a heartbeat if it meant Eddie would be alright.

If this was what love felt like, you thought, you didn’t want it.

Radio silence for three days.

You felt like a patient under quarantine, what with the limited access to the outside world you had. For three days, you sat by your window, all day and late into the night, waiting for someone to tap on the glass and tell you everything was alright.

Anytime a branch brushed against the side of the house, or the wind was just a little too loud, your head snapped towards the window, expecting to see someone, anyone, Eddie, perched on the ledge.

But for the past three days, you waited, waited, waited, and no one ever came.

It was entirely your own fault, you could admit that. Your dwindling emotional stability did nothing to assure your friends that you were fine, could be trusted to find Eddie and figure out what had happened that night in his trailer.

Your parents tried to pry you from your room, knocking politely (something they never did before) on your door every house, asking if you wanted a scoop of your favourite ice cream, or to watch a movie downstairs.

But you couldn’t look them in the eye knowing they believed what everyone was saying. You’d spent the first few days locked inside trying to convince them, but eventually even that seemed futile.

You’d never felt this completely, utterly, helpless. Your world was falling apart around you and because of your paranoid parents, a prejudice town, and two idiotic police officers watching your every move, you could do nothing to stop it. Just stand and watch as slowly but surely, everything and everyone you loved dropped like flies around you.

It happened on the fourth day.

You’d been granted permission to go on a walk, finally going stir-crazy and your Mum was desperate to clean your room after you’d been holed up in there. The cop car followed a few feet behind, never letting you get too far ahead.

The streets were eerily empty, though. It was a pleasant day outside and you’d expected the pavement to be filled with kids on their bikes or doodling on the concrete with chalk. Yet there it was, deserted. Even the constant chirp of birds had disappeared, so you slipped on your headphones and walked alone.

You didn’t realise something was happening at first, too preoccupied with calculating how fast you’d have to run to lose the two imbeciles following you.

But then you looked up and the blue of the sky had been replaced by swirling black ash that suffocated the midday light.

You stopped. Music blaring even as you pushed your headphones off. People rushed outside, startled by the sudden disappearance of the sun. They looked up at the darkness, panic erupting amongst families and children. In the distance, you could see where the smoke came from – a black column of spiralling ash that emptied into the sky, coating the world in shadow.

This time, you didn’t bother to calculate, you just ran.

Behind you, you heard the screeching voices of the officers, commanding you to stop. Ignoring them was about as easy as breathing as you ran faster, sneakers pounding against the pavement. You were the odd one out, running towards the danger, unlike everyone else who tripped over themselves to get as far away from it as possible.

You didn’t know what exactly it was you were running to, figured you’d know it when you saw it.

And Jesus Christ, were you right.

The ground had split open, fire erupting from the gaping cavern that had been made, like someone had carved a knife into the Earth and crushed everything in its path. That pesky thought that had been tapping against your skull for the past few days, the one that warned you this might all be Upside Down related, it returned, only pounding, screaming, smashing, not tapping.

“Holy shit,” you whispered for no one to hear, taking a few cautious steps forward to peek into the encroaching flames. They raged and flared, barking at you like a watchdog sensing danger. And though your head told you to run the other way, go home, check on your parents, call Nancy’s house, or Steve’s, do anything but continue on the road you were on, a road you weren’t sure had a very pleasant ending.

But you couldn’t do that, not when your friends, your best friends, your family, were out there, somewhere. Probably in the eye of this flaming storm and fighting off some sort of monster not even your nightmares could conjure up.

So you ignored your mind, the pounding, screaming, smashing against your skull. You ignored the rational thoughts still pleading relentlessly with you, and started running again.

Something told you that if this all started with Eddie, in his trailer, that was where it would end.

It took longer than you expected due to the obvious obstacle of a 10-foot wall of flames, but you made it in the end. Despite the chaos of the town, the trailer park looked mostly the same. Dead leaves crunched under your feet, each step leaving your heart racing that much more than it already was.

Nancy was right to have been mad when you’d thrown yourself in front of the Mind Flayer. And as unfeeling and unafraid as you tried to act around your friends, the churning in your stomach said otherwise.

You were terrified.

Not for whatever was waiting for you on the other side of wherever it was you thought you were going. Or even the perpetual question of ‘were they alive?’. For once, you weren’t even afraid for Eddie, not in that moment, anyway.

No, you were terrified for entirely selfish reasons. Because the last time you’d done this, you’d almost died, and the thought of leaving your parents, your friends, Hawkins, behind, without a proper goodbye and tampered death certificate – it didn’t seem right.

But you persisted, you had to.

Screw fear and its ability to control you in times of need. Screw the Upside Down and its seemingly never ending supply of monsters it kept throwing at you and your friends. Screw Eddie Munson for not loving you when you needed him. And screw the whole fucking world, galaxy, universe, for messing with you, time and time again.

You wouldn’t let it mess up this storyline, though, you deserved more than that.

Wrenching Eddie’s trailer door open, you peered inside, eyes darting to the make-shift rope dangling from a hole in the ceiling – a hole in the universe? You stepped towards it, craning your head to get a better look at what looked like a reflection of the room you were in, only bathed in darkness and decay.

With a steadying breath, you looked around, looking for anything that could be turned into a weapon. It was only when you were rummaging through Eddie’s room that you found a possibility. You’d hidden your favourite lighter in a shoebox under his bed, away from your parent’s prying eyes. In his grimy bathroom, you found rubbing alcohol in the first aid kit, and behind his bedroom door, a stick (Eddie liked to pretend it was a staff for D&D campaigns) large enough to be turned into a torch,

Soaking the end with the clear liquid, you held it under your arm as you stared at the descending piece of cloth. You knew if you thought about it too much, you’d never be able to make it up, so you took a few steps back, and ran towards it, jumping at the last second and hoisting yourself through the hole.

You landed in a tangled heap on a deflated mattress, groaning as your shoulder took the brunt of the fall. On shaking legs, you rolled off the ground, rushing to the window to look for any sign of your friends.

It didn’t take long. His short frame was hobbling towards a swarm of something, chasing after a fleeing figure.

Dustin.

You ran outside, catching up with him in no time. It was only when you got closer that you heard it. Even over the roaring in your ears, you could hear him sobbing. “Dustin– hey! Dustin! Wait!” you called out, sighing in relief as he turned towards your voice. He was shaking worse than you, covered in dirt, sweat, and someone’s blood.

“Are you hurt? Hey, hey, hey, what happened? Where are the others?”

He couldn’t get the words out, and you grew antsier by the second. “Dustin, please, tell me,” you pleaded, hugging him tight and praying he’d calm down soon enough to speak to you.

The urgency in your voice must have done it because the moment you pulled him in, he stuttered out a name you didn’t want to hear, not here. “E–Eddie. It’s Eddie. He went–” he pointed towards the moving black cloud.

You didn’t wait to hear the rest of his sentence, already sprinting down the familiar street, using screeches of what could have been bats as a beacon to follow. You were panting, hard and fast, when you saw him. Completely surrounded, flailing a makeshift sword and shield at the flapping beasts.

“Eddie!” you shouted, but he couldn’t hear you. So you took out your lighter, wrapped in neon pink tape so you wouldn’t confuse it with Eddies, and lit the end of the staff-slash-stick.

Then you ran to him.

You’d always run to him.

You woke up in bed, at home, convinced you’d hallucinated the whole thing. Hawkins erupting into flames, climbing through the trailer ceiling, a distraught Dustin, Eddie fighting for his life… you remember all of it, like a project playing it on loop in your mind.

But you were in the warm embrace of your sheets, new clothes on your body, clean hair fanned around you on the pillow. How could you have been in the Upside Down one moment, and back in Hawkins the next?

Your body protested as you stumbled out of bed, slipping your feet into your fuzzy slippers as you padded down the stairs, searching for someone to explain what the hell had happened. The house was empty, and when you walked past the windows facing the front yard, even the police car wasn’t there.

You were in the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of orange juice when the phone rang. Your stiff muscles groaned as you scrambled towards the ringing, picking it up immediately. “Hello?” you questioned into the static.

“You’re awake! Guys, she’s awake!” Dustin. He didn’t sound upset anymore, rather, he sounded brighter, more cheery than you’d heard him in weeks.

“Dustin – what happened?” Already disoriented by the conversation as a dull throbbing in your head alerted you to an oncoming headache.

“Don’t worry about–”

“If you finish that sentence, I’m going to reach through this phone and give you the most unbelievable–”

“Okay! Okay! What I was going to say before you threatened me–” you snorted into the receiver, “--was that we’re coming over, all of us, and we’ll explain everything in person.

You nodded and it took you a few seconds to realise he couldn’t see you. “Okay. Okay. Sounds good.”

You paused, voice hesitating as you asked yourself whether you wanted the answer to the question you were about to ask. “And– Uhm– Eddie? Is he– Is he–?”

“He’s fine,” he assured you. “Pretty beaten up but you made sure it didn’t get too bad. He’s in the hospital still, was acquitted of all charges while you were asleep – God, you sleep a lot, don’t ya?”

“Oh, fuck off,” you scolded, but the bite wasn’t there as you laughed at Dustin’s crazy antics. You hadn’t smiled, let alone laughed, in over a week, but it seemed fitting that Dustin – probably the only other person that cared for Eddie as much as you did – would be the one to pry one out of you.

“I’ll see you all soon.” You hung up, wobbling up the stairs to change, eager for fog in your mind to be lifted.

“So, that’s it,” Nancy finished, leaning back in the arm chair. Everyone was sat in your living room, huddled on the sofa or the carpet with discarded napkins and half-eaten pizza crusts littering the table.

“Huh. That’s it,” you agreed, chewing thoughtfully at the slice of pizza in your hand. “Well shit,” was all you managed in the end, not knowing what words could truly encompass or resolve the events of the past few days.

“Yeah, and apparently Victor Creel confessed to the murders. Not sure how or why–” Robin stared pointedly at Nancy who simply shrugged and leaned into Jonathan’s embrace, “-- so the whole town is sort of backtracking on calling Eddie a murderer.”

“They do still think he’s a bit of a freak, but anything is better than murderer,” Steve added as an afterthought. You couldn’t help but agree. No one could be arrested for being a freak, so you were grateful for the (albeit, reluctant) change of heart.

“So when does he come home? I mean– when can he leave the hospital?” You didn’t know where he would stay. Definitely not with you, your parents would throw a fit, but he sure as hell couldn’t go back to the trailer.

“I think Wayne got a new place– a new trailer? I don’t know, so probably back with him.”

Nancy was staring at you again, the worry unobscured and evident in her gaze. You looked anywhere but at her, instead nodding along to what everyone was saying. She’d said he was asking for you everyday she’d gone to visit, but you couldn’t bring yourself to see him, not yet.

You were afraid of what he’d say. It felt like years ago, though you think it was only a few weeks earlier, when he’d confessed his feelings for you, cornered in Steve’s upstairs bathroom. But that was then, and he’d almost died in the meantime, so you weren’t sure if those feelings remained. Were too afraid to find out if they had.

So, yes, you were actively avoiding someone who was literally incapacitated in the hospital. You weren’t proud of it, but you’d do anything to delay whatever end was headed your way. In your head, you thought back to that night, pressed up against Eddie with his lips whispering all the things you’d dreamt of hearing. If you closed your eyes, you could still feel the ghost of his breath against your skin, against your neck, against your–

If you confronted him, those dreams and fantasies would cease to exist. You weren’t ready for that, weren’t sure if you ever would be.

Eddie came home on an ordinary Sunday afternoon.

He’d been in the hospital under strict observation for almost two weeks. The inexplicable bites and missing chunks of flesh all along his torso had left the doctors perplexed by what he’d actually been through, but after blaming everything on a wild bear (you weren’t even sure there were any in Hawkins), he was finally given the okay to be discharged.

It was an ordinary Sunday afternoon, but it was also his birthday. The big ‘two-oh’ as Steve had called it while he hung streamers and fairy lights in Wayne’s new kitchen. It was a very modest one bedroom, not necessarily in the best neighbourhood, but it offered enough stability for Eddie while some of his wounds still healed.

You didn’t know what he planned to do after high school, knew he still needed to boost a few of his grades in order to graduate, but you didn’t doubt his ability to do so.

Where he planned to go, what he planned to do in the future – it was all a mystery to you. You’d heard back from all of your top choices, never having really worried about college or university, any of it, so you knew you could go anywhere, do anything. And while you were grateful for your parents and the opportunity presented before you, you still wondered if you’d be doing it all alone.

The gang was crouched behind the chairs and table when Wayne stepped through, a battered but smiling Eddie on crutches following close behind. Everyone shouted ‘Surprise!’ and he beamed at all of the faces gathered in his honour. It only took a few seconds before his eyes landed on you, and you flushed under the intensity of his gaze.

But it was his day, and you weren’t about to ruin it because of how that pesky heart of yours ached at the sight of him. Instead, you offered him what you hoped was a sincere smile, and blew the party horn perched between your lips.

“You guys,” he cooed at everyone, hopping on his crutches to Steve who he hugged, whispering something in his ears that hid him cackling. Dustin pulled a chair out for him, and he sat in front of his cake, admiring the wonky letters scrawled in pink and green icing.

Happy Birthday Munson, it read.

“Happy birthday, Eddie,” Robin called out, bringing a knife over and setting out the paper plates. No one awkwardly sang to him, Wayne had warned that Eddie hated ‘Happy Birthday’ and would probably drag himself across the floor to escape the traditional tune. It seemed like an appropriately dramatic, entirely Eddie threat to make so you’d all obliged happily.

“How you feeling, Eds,” Lucas asked around a mouthful of cake as he sat across from him on the table.

“Oh, I’m much better than before. Got a few scars, need some help with the ointment, by the way, in case anyone wants to volunteer, and this ankle of mine has to stay off the floor for another week. But hey– I’m not dead and I’m not going to jail so I call that a win,” he pointed out, raising a spoonful of cake into the air as a toast.

Everyone copied his movements, hollering and cheering before the scattered conversations and arguments continued, drowning out the seriousness that had lingered for a moment.

You were perched on the kitchen counter, struggling to lift your head enough to meet Eddie’s stare that you could feel burning holes into your head. It took a quick mental pep talk and a grounding pinch to your thigh before you finally looked up, eyes immediately locking with his.

You knew what he wanted immediately as he nodded towards the door that led to his bedroom. You’d managed to salvage some of his things from the trailer but had otherwise been rummaging through thrift stores in town to fill it with anything that could make the room feel like him for Eddie.

It meant you were forced to spend a lot more time with Wayne, who you had come to realise was more of a Father figure than Uncle to Eddie. The two of you had talked about him for hours while he was still in the hospital, and he’d driven the furniture for his room from the shops back to his house once you’d managed to snag yourself a deal.

You shook your head at Eddie, mouthing ‘later’. You knew it would be a long and undeniably difficult conversation. And for now, you just wanted him to enjoy the company of his friends, and the cake you’d baked with El and Max earlier that morning.

He glared at you teasingly before he was pulled into a heated debate between Mike and Will on who the superior member of the Fellowship of the Ring truly was. You didn’t need to pay attention to know his answer. Sam. He’d explained it to you countless times before.

Sam, because he was the hero no one expected.

And looking at him now, bandaged and scarred but grinning all the same, you couldn’t help but think he looked a lot like a hero as well.

It was close to midnight when everyone finally made their way out. Steve offered to drive the (his?) kids home, while Nancy, Robin and Jon left in Nancy’s car, going on about a new conspiracy theory they wanted to run by Murray.

Wayne had left two hours earlier for his night shift, and so you were left collecting the garbage off of the tables and the floor, Eddie watching you, quiet and intent.

“Want to sit in my room?” he asked eventually as you washed your hand. You turned to face him, nodding but not saying anything. You weren’t entirely sure where this conversation was headed, so you opted to stay quiet, not wanting to say the wrong thing and spook him into leaving you again.

Eddie limped into his room, collapsing back into his bed that was tucked neatly into the corner of the room against the wall. You’d found a cassette player that was in pretty good condition, had organised his own tapes according to genre, and had spent a whole day taping posters to the wall. He took in your handiwork as you shut the door behind you, joining him on the bed.

This was the closest you’d been in weeks, sat next to each other, arms and knees pressed close. But he felt out of reach, emotionally distant in a way he hadn’t been before. You were dreading this, already convinced you’d be running out in tears very soon.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. Your head snapped to him, bewildered by the confession.

“What?” you asked dumbly, not quite believing the words he was saying.

“I said, I’m sorry,” he repeated, looking at you now with those doe-eyes of his. You fought the urge to soothe the creases of his frown lines, to kiss the worries away.

“What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I don’t know. Everything? For Chrissy, the party, how you had to run in and rescue me – you could’ve died.” His words were horse, choked up with the sheer amount of emotion coursing through him. “I won’t ever be able to properly apologise, I don’t think there are words for it, but you have to know – I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Stop, Eddie,” you were shaking your head at him, and he looked so utterly defeated.

“No– please, I have to– I’m–”

“Eddie--” you interrupted before he could dig himself any deeper into that hole of guilt. “You have nothing to be sorry for, you fucking moron! And even if you did, even if, in some screwed up sense of logic, you were by any means at fault, so am I.”

You weren’t sure if you meant to berate him like you were, but you couldn’t listen to him ramble on any longer – it made it all so much harder. “I pushed you away when I shouldn’t have. Even if you didn’t feel the same and our relationship had become a messy, tangled heap of– fuck, I don’t know. But you were my best friend, you are my best friend.”

It was your turn to talk yourself into the ground as you spoke with no end in sight. All of the pent up emotions of the past few weeks were finally ready to burst out of you, and poor, still recovering Eddie was about to face the brunt of it.

“And then you showed up at Steve’s and I thought I was going to fucking combust or something, because you said exactly what I wanted to hear and I would have given you everything, Eddie. Everything. But then you were gone and no one would let me help and I felt so useless because there you were, running for your life, and I was sleeping the days away.

So when I thought I could do something, anything, I came after you and then I woke up and you were in the hospital and I just– I couldn’t– It was too much– You were–” You stumbled over your words as every worry, anxiety, ill feeling rushed at you, all at once.

Eddie couldn’t just sit and watch you fall to pieces in front of him, no. So he shut you up the only way he knew how. His hand slid easily across your cheek, and your babbled words came to an abrupt halt as his mouth covered yours in the most agonising kiss the two of you had ever shared.

Agonising because so much had happened and so much would happen and as much as the uncertainty scared you shitless, the heat blazing between the two of you had you feeling safe – safer than you had felt in ages.

Your chest splintered, cracked, then shattered open. You could do nothing but give in as you disintegrated into his arms, scooting as close as you dared with his cast and injuries still gnawing at the back of your mind.

But you kept going, kept kissing him hard and desperate and like you’d wanted to since the day you’d first met him, first day of junior year outside the cafeteria.

He’d just come from the principal’s office, grumbling under his breath about how ‘fighting an evil warlock and saving the world’ should be a good enough excuse for not handing in his English paper. You’d found him endearingly sweet almost immediately, and though he was a brooding, leather-clad stranger to you, the moment he noticed you staring, the biggest smile you’d ever seen lit up his face.

How could you not have fallen for him?

“Eddie,” you tried to speak between the frantic kisses, forcing your hands on either side of his face to reign him back. He let out a whine that had you seeing black but you knew the two of you needed to talk a few things out. “I know– fuck, I know, Eds. But listen to me,” you began, breathless and mentally cursing yourself out for interrupting such a deliciously perfect kiss.

“I’m listening,” he said offhandedly, still fixated on your lips as you spoke.

“Eddie!” you scolded, pitching his chin up so he’d look at you, not your mouth.

“Sorry,” he muttered sheepishly, that cheeky smile plastered to his face that told you he wasn’t sorry at all. “I’m listening now.”

“I can’t be your friend,” you said plainly, and you knew the minute the words left your mouth that you needed to explain further because Eddie was recoiling like he’d been slapped in the face and kicked in the gut.

“What– I– What?” He looked about ready to argue with you but you held up your hand to stop him.

“I can’t be your friend,” you repeated, then continued. “--because I am so disgustingly in love with you, Eddie Munson. I’ve been driving myself crazy, trying to find the right words, so much so that I basically hid from you ever since you’ve been in the hospital.”

You let out a shaky breath but your voice never wavered as you confessed what you’d been wanting to for what seemed like months now. The last time you’d come close to these words, it had ended in tears and sobs and a piercing melancholy you were sure would kill you. But you weren’t in denial, not anymore.

You could see it in the way he looked at you, spoke to you, kissed you.

The words you were looking for, you realised, didn’t have to be complicated, profound, or even poetic. They could be simple, like a fact, a truth, a certainty. “I love you,” you said again, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

He couldn’t hold back, had to say it before it burst out of his chest and hit you square in the face. “I love you too. I’ve always loved you,” he admitted easily, grinning down at you like you were his world, his galaxy, his whole damn universe. He kissed you slow, savouring every second of his lips against yours “You make me feel again, sweetheart.”

Other people might believe in a God, a philosophical question, a certain moral ruling or even nothing at all. Everyone has their own unique reasoning for their actions, their words, their life. And while you’d never treaded down such an existential road, had never considered why, what or who, one thing you could close your eyes and believe in, without hesitation, was love.

And Eddie Munson sure gave you a whole lot of it.

screaming. crying. throwing up and throwing hands. reblogs appreciated x

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hollandorks · 2 years

Text

shadows in the night

battinson!bruce wayne x f!reader

chapter two

summary: more than a year after the events of middle of the night, y/n and Bruce are happily engaged and working to lower the amount of crime in Gotham. However, a new killer calling himself the Riddler has other plans for their happiness…set during the events of the movie, mostly canonical, some changes made to fit the story

a/n: Yay time for another chapter! Going to try my hardest to stick to posting twice per week--I have about 8 more chapters written so far (still only 1/3 of the way through the movie, oops) so we should be good for a while! Once I finish writing the whole thing, I’ll probably post more frequently! That being said, I’m on vacation next week and I’m not sure of the internet situation! Ch 3 will be posted before I leave though!

If you feel like supporting me further, donate to my ko-fi! You can get either a teaser for the next chapter (for lower donation amounts) or the entire next chapter (higher donation amounts). Find more info and the link to my ko-fi here!

Series Masterlist

word count: 2645

“Thank you, Gordon. I mean it.”

He muttered something sarcastic about being grateful under his breath, but she was already gone.

It was still raining when Halloween dawned.

“This reminds me of when we first met,” y/n mused as they ate a late dinner on Halloween night. “You need to be extra careful tonight. There’ll be so many teenagers who could push you off of a roof.”

Bruce rolled his eyes.

She was doing her best to try to distract him. He had something on his mind, and she knew it, but she wasn’t really sure how to help. They’d already argued briefly about her going out with him–it was too dangerous, according to him, but according to her there was too much potential for him to get hurt. She wanted to help. She needed to help. He couldn’t be everywhere.

She wasn’t sure she had won the argument, but he had at least let it drop.

She’d let it drop too, because the guilt of lying to him was still eating her alive. He didn’t know that she was already helping him. And she wanted to keep it that way. To keep him safe. To keep him from being distracted. To keep him from being pulled in too many directions at once.

“Just think,” she continued lightly, “You might not have a cute girl to save you this time. Lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice, etcetera.”

“Are you ever going to let me live that down?” Bruce asked dryly as he rinsed off his plate.

“Nope,” she said cheerfully. She stepped up behind him and rested her forehead against the warm spot between his shoulder blades. He huffed a laugh. They stayed like that for a few minutes. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed herself closer. “Please be careful. I mean it. Call me the second you need help.”

“I will,” he said. He rested his hands over hers. “Please–don’t sneak out. Just–let me know. Alright?”

She laughed, face still pressed into his muscular back. “Okay. But I can’t promise that I won’t leave. You can’t be everywhere. And don’t even think of hiding the Batmobile keys again. I had copies made.”

He stiffened but didn’t argue the point.

He finally turned around in her arms. She nestled closer and kissed him.

“Please be careful,” she whispered.

“I will. I love you.” He kissed her again, and then he was gone.

She finished cleaning up dinner to distract herself. She had a bad feeling she couldn’t exactly place. The growing crime despite all they’d done, despite all Gordon and cops like him had done, was worrisome. Gotham was turning on itself, and she didn’t like it. She didn’t like what that meant for Bruce. For Batman.

Maybe she could wait it out at the restaurant, pack her gear up just in case Bruce needed her.

She was downstairs before she had fully decided. She picked up the extra earpiece he always left for her.

“Bruce?” she asked softly as she put it in, grabbed her gear, and went back up the elevator. She couldn’t take the Batmobile to the restaurant, as much as she wanted to. Regular cars only, unfortunately. She had conceded a few months into their relationship and let him buy her a car. To compromise, it had been a used car, because she didn’t need him blowing money on her. Plus, he had six other cars already that for some reason he wasn’t happy with her picking from. He wanted to buy her one.

His response was instantaneous. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just–I was going to go to the GP for a bit. Let me know if you need me.”

He didn’t respond–probably busy already, she mused.

He’d changed the earpieces a bit in the past year. He had something in his suit now that acted kind of like a bluetooth connection. He could connect to it with the push of a button and disconnect just as easily. That way they could both be wearing the earpieces without getting too distracted by constant noise. It made it a little easier to watch him go out each night.

As y/n drove through the rain into the city, her body thrummed. She was almost itching for a fight. She understood exactly why Bruce did what he did. Not only to keep the city safer, but because it was…exhilarating.

She made herself drive straight to the Gotham Project no matter how badly she wanted to stop and put her suit on. Just this once, she would listen to Bruce. She’d rather wait on him to need her than be out somewhere, too far to help, when the call came.

At least she had done some good already–she’d gotten the name of Derrick Smalls to Gordon, and it was only a matter of time before the man was arrested. She wished, briefly, that she’d done more than break his hand and punch him in the face, though.

At the restaurant, y/n shoved her bulky backpack into her office and locked it behind her. The Gotham Project was small, but it was hers. It was actually two buildings next to each other. One was the restaurant and kitchen itself, the other was a sort of homeless shelter and supply store her manager Bryn ran for her. It didn’t hurt that Bryn had also been formerly employed by the Iceberg Lounge while she paid her way through school.

“It’s me,” y/n called to the chef who ran things when she wasn’t around. His name was Ollie and he’d served ten years in jail for a crime he didn’t commit. He was sweet, overly flirtatious, and honestly a better cook than she was. “I’m just here to check on things.”

Things had been running incredibly smoothly for six months or so. Hiring Bryn and Ollie had been the final puzzle pieces, and things had started simply…falling into place. And with the attention that Bruce’s name got her, well, they did pretty well. They helped a lot of people.

“Hey, boss lady,” Ollie called from where he flitted around the kitchen. Support staff and waiters danced around the space. Ollie currently had cat ears and a tail. Some of the other waiters had costumes, too, all simple and practical. “Busy tonight.”

“That’s great.” She meant it–the busier they were, the more people they could help. People could come and eat like it was a regular restaurant, with the option to pay it forward for someone in need. And then the less fortunate or homeless could come in and have a normal, free meal before getting any supplies they might need from next door. People sometimes took advantage of it and tried to get a free meal, but her staff had gotten pretty good at keeping the assholes at bay.

“Your cop friend is out there,” Ollie said with a flash of a smile.

Gordon came to visit on nights he worked, usually because he was in the area. She constantly tried to get him to eat for free, but he always paid for himself and the next person to come in.

Y/n thanked Ollie and pushed her way out into the dining area. It was busy. At the late hour, a lot of people were filling up before a night on the town. There were costumes everywhere.

Gordon was at his usual seat at the bar, eating a huge plate of the night’s special, carbonara.

“Hey,” y/n said as she slid into the empty seat next to him. “Can’t get enough of me?”

“I’m here for the food, not you.” But there was a hint of a smile underneath Gordon’s mustache.

She grinned. “That’s fair. Ollie’s going to have me out of a job sooner rather than later.”

“Good thing you own the place, then.” Gordon winked. His phone started ringing in his pocket.

“Good thing. I’m going to check on Bryn.” She patted Gordon’s arm. “Enjoy your meal.”

He nodded as he fumbled for his phone. He frowned at the caller ID.

She hovered for a second, overly curious. He shot her a look that said he knew she was eavesdropping, but he didn’t say anything.

“Gordon,” he answered curtly. He set his fork down. Y/n watched as Gordon’s face blanched. His mouth parted, just slightly, before he seemed to realize he was in public. “Shit, I–Shit. Okay. I’m on my way. I gotta make a quick stop first, alright? Lock it down. No, I mean it. Lock it down.”

He hung up quickly and slapped a twenty dollar bill on the countertop.

“What happened?” she asked, because from the look on Gordon’s face, it was bad.

“I–It’s not good. I can’t say anything yet. I gotta run. Thanks, kid.”

Gordon was out in a flash. Y/n quietly took the money and put it in the till, frowning. She hadn’t seen that kind of look on Gordon’s face in a long time. It must be bad, whatever it was. The bad feeling she’d been harboring all night grew worse.

She got her confirmation not fifteen minutes later when the Bat signal flared to life overhead.

It had been an utter coincidence that she’d chosen a spot with an almost perfect view of Batman’s signal. It had felt a little bit like fate, the first time she’d been in the restaurant and seen it lit.

Something churned in her gut.

Not good at all, if Gordon was calling Bruce in on it. Usually that meant something big, bad, or both.

She picked up her phone and pretended to make a call while, over the earpiece, she said, “Gordon was here and got a call. He seems freaked out.”

Bruce’s voice in her ear calmed her. “I’m on my way to him now. Are you still at the restaurant?”

“Yeah, but–”

“Stay there until I know what’s going on.”

She sighed. “Okay.”

She hated being kept out of everything. At least she could look over whatever Bruce had recorded for the night, both with the lens and within his current journal.

Bryn was packing up a care bag for an elderly lady when y/n entered the other half of the Gotham Project with her master key. This side was a little bigger. There were a couple of rows of cots, a few small stalls with showers, and a huge, heavily secured pantry. Bruce had made sure all of the security was top notch, with alerts going straight to his phone, along with hers and Alfred’s too. He even paid for around the clock security guards, which grated on her nerves sometimes. But at least no one would try to take advantage of her generosity.

Bryn was a tall Black girl that ran the place better than y/n had ever hoped. She’d only seen her around the Iceberg Lounge a few times, and hiring her had been a huge stroke of luck brought about by Lena, who had officially introduced them. Y/n had actually tried to hire Lena first, to get her out of the club, but Lena had politely declined and sent Bryn her way instead.

“How’s it looking?” y/n asked after the older lady shuffled away, back into the rain. The woman had declined one of the cots for the night.

Bryn finished writing out the details of the supplies she’d given before answering. “Pretty good. Running low on umbrellas, ponchos, and trashbags, of course. But I already placed an order and it should be here by Saturday. Which means it’ll be sunny.”

Y/n laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure it does. You know, between you and Ollie, I kind of feel useless around here these days.”

“Hey, whenever you’re bored, just let me know. I’d love extra time off.” Bryn winked to show she was joking.

“I’ll put in a word with the boss.”

At that moment, her phone buzzed. She tried not to seem too eager as she yanked it from her pocket.

“Don’t tell me–it’s your sugar daddy.” Bryn had been around in the days when y/n had first started working for Bruce, and she never let her forget it. She constantly teased her about it, about the GP’s funding, all of it. But unlike most people, Bryn didn’t mean a word of it. She adored Bruce and always gave him shit for not talking much, which y/n enjoyed to no end.

“It is,” she said, but it was from Bruce’s “work” phone, not the man himself. His name in it was simply a dark circle emoji. “Because you always have dark circles under your eyes, makeup or otherwise,” she’d joked when he’d asked about it.

Mitchell was murdered.

Y/n’s heart stopped.

The interim Mayor, Don Mitchell, Jr. The man who had replaced Mayor Williams after everything that had happened, and was currently running to be the actual mayor. The man who’d helped bring down Maroni.

Y/n cursed colorfully. If Bruce was texting, it was because he was around too many others to speak out loud comfortably. “You know, Bryn, why don’t you take off early? I’ll finish doing the inventory and help anyone else who comes in.”

“I was just about to quit due to being overworked. Damn. Maybe next week.” Bryn winked at her again. They shared a laugh.

Thankfully, she was joking. Y/n made sure her employees were happy, because she knew better than anyone what it was like to have the world’s shittiest boss. Bryn and Ollie were both training people, too, who seemed just as capable as they were. Y/n really did feel useless most of the time. She didn’t even really get to fill in for either of them much anymore.

Which probably explained the uptick in her…other nighttime activities.

After Bryn left, y/n busied herself doing what she’d promised while simultaneously checking her phone every thirty seconds. Next door, the noise of the crowd slowly died down. A couple of people came in to sleep for the night, so y/n left them and went back to her office, telling Ollie goodnight as he left. She checked in with the security team before locking herself in her office.

The hours slowly ticked by. The bad feeling in her gut grew worse.

It was almost four in the morning when Bruce finally texted again. She’d dozed off on the small couch in the office and woke with a jolt at the chirp of her phone.

The dark circle emoji greeted her. About to head out.

She was back at the Batcave within fifteen minutes.

She flipped on the news first, then the feed for Bruce’s lens.

“This isn’t good,” Bruce said in her ear a couple of minutes later.

“What is it with this city and fucking mayors?” she cursed. First Williams, now Mitchell. She hoped this Bella Real lady proved tougher than she looked, because Gotham apparently had it out for anyone in the position. So if she won the election–however that worked with her competition now dead–y/n hoped the woman spent extra on security.

“Serial killer, maybe. Sadistic at the very least, if he doesn’t kill again,” Bruce said. She could hear a clamor around him. On the screen, she watched him watch a growing crowd from a distance.

Behind her, GC1 announced breaking news.

“He left me a card,” Bruce continued as the anchors announced the death of the mayor. There would be a press conference shortly. The press conference setup was what he was watching. “To the Batman.”

Y/n’s heart stopped again. “He–for you?”

“It was a riddle. I’ll show you when I get back.”

She cursed quietly as she watched two different perspectives of the press conference as dawn rose around Gotham.

Not good. This was not good at all.

She really had a bad feeling about this. Something was brewing in Gotham, and Batman was at the center of it all.

Next Chapter

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

harmless (x)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety, smidge of angst, mentions of violence

Word count: 7.8k (i went overboard. clearly.)

A/N: as well all know, i am a humanities student writing science geeks. if any of this sounds unrealistic or nonsensical, it’s because it is and i am honestly too exhausted to research data privacy and AI so here’s my take on how STEM should work i.e. the power of friendship <3 major shoutout to @iamlittlesparkler for the idea for this chapter!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

“As you know, we have a busy week ahead of us.”

Coffees line the conference room table, pens click against the stacks of paper that settle in front of various agents and the smell of deodorant mixed with post-training sweat lingers at the back of the room like a disgusting witch concoction.

“The annual parade is coming up and since there are a few security threats, SHIELD has been asked to step in. Therefore, all of you will be working security this week, possibly even at the parade.” Murmurs broke out in the room the minute this was said; mostly from first year field agents who were way too excited to have earpieces and fingerless gloves.

Bucky, on the other hand, doesn’t think much of it. They’ve dealt with threats before, most were declared empty the minute it got out that SHIELD or the Avengers were involved. It’s the 12th one that year.

“That’s only if we don’t catch it first,” Steve continued. “Our first priority is precaution. The tech and analytics teams are working on it. However, if you see anything suspicious, bring it up with Director Fury. He’s going to be around to make sure we’re not overlooking anything. Do you have any questions?”

More whispers erupted at the mention of Fury’s name. Wait till they realise he lives up to his name when they accidentally manage to set him off just by existing incorrectly.

Bucky smirks at the thought.

“You can leave then.” Steve straightens up as chairs shuffle against the carpeted floor, over twenty people leaving the room.

“And remember, if you see an eagle today, be sure to stand there and thank it on behalf of Steve for its service. Freedom! Liberty! And whatever else,” Tony calls out from the corner of the room, earning a sigh from the captain. Others only snicker as they close the door behind them.

“Thanks.” Steve stares at him stone faced, bemused at the symbolism that had been bestowed upon him.

“Gotta keep the patriotism high.” The only ones that remain are the official team. Bucky thinks that he should have left with the other agents but apparently, it was rude and not a good show of team spirit.

“How serious is this threat anyway?” Clint has his head face down on the table, hand holding his to-go coffee cup so it doesn’t fall over.

“We’re not sure.” Steve finally takes a seat on the chair in front of him. “It’s the biggest event we’ve had this year, wouldn’t put it past them.”

“If it’s those Welsh kids again, I’m gonna punch a hole through their house this time,” Clint warns, voice muffled through the furniture.

“It’s not them, we checked.” Nat had her leg up on the armrest of Clint’s chair. “Tech team’s been working overtime to figure it out.”

“You have anything that could help?” Sam sends a nod towards Tony.

“I got a few things but it’d take a while to put it together.”

“Didn’t you learn quantum physics in a night?” Wanda’s picking apart a cookie into pieces, chewing slowly.

“Thermodynamic astrophysics,” he corrects her. “Quantum science took lesser.”

Bucky scoffs slightly at the brag, eyes still trained on the table in front of him. Maybe if he made no noise, they would forget he’s here.

“Yeah, so this should be a piece’a cake.”

“If your cake was somehow made out of a highly specified tracker that somehow doesn’t violate the data privacy of the entire world while analysing millions of terabytes worth of information, then yeah. A piece of it.”

“What he means to say-” Bruce interjects, “-is that we’re trying. It’s just taking longer than usual.”

“Well, the parade’s this Sunday. Think it’ll be done by then?”

“Hey FRIDAY,” Tony crosses his arm over his chest. “How many hours have I slept this week?”

“Three and a half, boss.”

“How much more will I be getting?”

“From previous experience, about six.”

“Yeah, we can get it done.” Tony looks back at Steve.

“Ask someone on the tech team to help you out.” Everyone was well aware of Tony’s bad coping mechanisms and how futile it was to get him to change his mind about it, but they still tried.

“They’re too busy.” Bruce pressed his lips into a straight line.

Bucky tunes out at this point. If he could help, he would have reluctantly chimed in by now, but he couldn’t.

“So what now?” Sam rips Clint’s doughnut into two, keeping one half for himself while leaving the other to the latter who still hadn’t lifted his head up from the table.

“I actually asked Fury if I could call in an external to come help,” Tony pipes up.

“And he agreed?” Nat raised an eyebrow.

“After he realised I wasn’t going to leave his office until he said yes.” He pulled out his phone, rapidly typing out a message before hitting send. “It didn’t take too long.”

“Do we know this person?” Steve asks a little suspiciously.

“Well-” Bruce sneaks a glance at the broody man on the chair, “-kinda.”

Everyone can tell Bucky isn’t paying attention by the way he’s glaring holes into the plant. He doesn’t mean to, it just so happens that it looks like he wants to kill it. Nobody tends to bother him during meetings, knowing well and fully that he did not care.

“You’re about to.” Tony jumps up, making his way to the door to pull it open.

Bucky perks up. An open door means they can leave, right? He can go watch The Bachelor? He’s not sure what everyone was talking about, but if the meeting was over he could go ask Wanda who was always kind enough to help.

“Our newest recruit,” the billionaire announces, quickly adding the next part, “on a trial basis.”

Bucky looks at the door.

His jaw drops open.

“No,” he says loudly, posture immediately stiff as a plank.

“Hello to you too, Barnes.” You roll your eyes before sending a small wave to everyone else. “Hey everyone.”

“What are you doing here?” He looks like he’s seething.

“Don’t tell me you forgot about our date.” You cross your arms over your chest in defiance. “You told me 3 o’clock, you player.”

“What is she doing here?” He whips to Steve for an answer.

“Hey Y/N,” Sam greets with a smile on his face before Steve can reply.

“Sam Wilson, good to see you again.” You grin.

“Right back at ya, sugar.”

Wanda looks amused, Clint finally lifts his head off the table at the mention of your name while Nat takes her feet off his armrest, and Steve’s body relaxes when he realises what’s going on.

“Okay.” Tony claps his hand. Bucky shoots daggers at him. “As you all know, this is Y/N. She’s going to working with us this week.”

“This is ridi- how did you even find out about her?”

“Aside from the fact that she’s all you talk about?” Clint snorts. Bucky shifts his glare to him. It was bullshit and an exaggeration and Clint was going to get a shoe up his ass very soon.

Your grin only grows bigger.

“We saw one of the repulsors she made some time ago,” Bruce answers his question like the sane person that he is. “Tony’s had her in mind for a while.”

“Repulsors? How on ear-” Bucky connects two and two together before turning to Sam. “You. You got her this job.”

“Sam’s my best wingman.” You send him a small heart made from your hands. Whether the pun was intentional or not, no one would know.

“Don’t look at me, I had nothing to do with this idea.” Sam raised his hands to brush off the blame.

“You’re a villain,” he points out loudly.

“I’m a saint.” You raise your hand to your heart in mock offence. “I have done nothing wrong in my life, ever.”

“Listen, Robocop,” Tony interrupts your conversation, bringing the attention back to him, “I cleared it with Fury. He’s the boss here.”

“Fury doesn’t know-”

“What don’t I know?” The atmosphere of the room changes the minute he saunters in.

With an eyepatch on his face, gaze sharp and a long black coat, Nick Fury puts Bucky’s dark outfits to shame. Not like he was competing.

Bucky doesn’t continue his sentence. Nick’s imposing presence loomed at the doorway, putting a stop to the ridiculous arguments that were beginning to boil. Instead, he looks at you, only to find your attention trained on the man of the hour.

“Nicholas,” you half cheer from where you had shifted to in the middle of all the commotion.

Nicholas?

No one had ever called him Nicholas.

“Y/L/N,” Nick addresses in return. “Been a while.”

“You haven’t come to the lair in months, Nick.” You pout at him. “I even sent you an invite.”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows. Since when are you on such good terms with Fury? Since when was anyone on good terms with Fury?

“It must have gotten lost in the mail,” he fires back, “Or maybe it’s because I just happen to be the busiest man in the damn country. Take your pick.”

You roll your eyes, muttering something under your breath, but the good natured smile on your face shows that you didn’t take any of his passive- or straight up- aggressiveness to heart.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was interrupting your little tea time.” He looks around the rest of the room with an edge in his voice. “Don’t you all have work to do?”

“We do,” Tony interrupts, holding up his hand before pointing to Bruce and you. “Everyone else just sorta sits around and looks pretty.”

“I’m gonna go talk to the organisers, see what spots are most vulnerable.” Steve stands up. “You coming?”

“Yep,” Sam responds, flicking Clint’s shoulder to drag him along. “Come on, man. When was the last time you took a shower?”

“I’ll go see what the kids are up to in training. They’re probably flying off the handle right now.” Natasha brushes off crumbs from her lap. “Barnes, you in?”

Bucky silently shakes his head, eyes focused on you as you introduce yourself to every Avenger who walks out of the room, sharing a small fist bump with Sam.

“I’ll do it,” Wanda volunteers instead, finally leaving behind only the Science Bros, you and Bucky in the room with Fury.

“I’ll give you a tour of the lab.” Tony beckons and you nod, following him. “New eyepatch, Fury? Prada, I assume?”

“Stark,” Nick says curtly.

Bucky stares after you, arms still folded across his chest.

“Any problem, Sergeant?”

Other than the fact that his arch nemesis was now working with his friends, no, not really. But that did seem like a pretty big one.

“No,” Bucky mumbles instead, getting up from his place finally.

Apparently, no one else was worried about the possibly lethal combination of you and Stark, even with Banner there to dilute it.

Fine.

Guess he just has to observe you the whole week.

Well, half a week. It was Wednesday.

He observes inconspicuously over the rim of his coffee cup. He has a newspaper spread in front of him at Bruce’s table.

It’s not suspicious. He’s been there multiple times to sit in silence with the scientist who occasionally tinkers with something while engaging Bucky in tidbits of conversation. He finds it calming, refreshing even

Today he has an agenda. Everyone knows about it too.

“You know he’s staring at you, right?” Bruce looks up briefly from the giant blueprint laid in front of the group.

Tony had been dragged away to get a proper meal into him after he stayed up for 36 hours straight with caffeine keeping his system running.

“He has a tendency to do that.” You’re looking over the plan the three of you had come up with the day before. There were certain changes to be made in terms of efficiency. “Turns out if you annoy him, he stares harder.”

“We’ve heard about the inventions. Inators, he calls them?”

“Yeah,” you point out something on the sheet, drawing a circle around it to come back to later, “only good things I hope?”

“He doesn’t really talk much.” Bruce writes down a small comment against your arrow mark. “But if he hated them, he’d have a lot to say. So I’d take it as a compliment.”

“Would it annoy him if I did?”

“Probably.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment, then. Pass me the ruler?” You draw a line connecting two pieces.

Bucky’s ability to lip read is excellent but he refuses to do it, for privacy purposes. He knew that SHIELD had pulled some strings and had another teacher substituting for your classes the whole week since your other option was to come only after school hours. Anything else about this plan was murky.

“You gonna sit there all day?” Tony looks over his shoulder, following his line of sight.

“I’ve done it before.” He continues to look over the newspaper at you with your finger extended at something on the blueprint as you explained something to Bruce.

“You look like- how do I say this nicely.” He wasn’t going to. “A fuckin’ stalker.”

“I’m supposed to stop her from doing anything evil.”

“Sure.” Tony snorts. “That’s what this is. Should I get you a fedora and sunglasses while we’re at it?”

Of course Stark wouldn’t care; he brought you into this project. It was pretty much impossible to get him to agree with Bucky.

Bucky just narrows his eyes and continues his observation.

The menu of the cafeteria keeps changing. They like to keep things interesting.

Every time they do, Bucky spends too long staring at the menu, trying to figure out what exactly is familiar enough to order. Vietnamese week had him eating pho the entire duration it stayed.

“You plannin’ on eating anytime this century, sarge?” He recognises your voice immediately.

He knows what time your break is and he knows that you generally eat lunch in the cafeteria with the science team. Generally, the three of you pour over solutions and debate points all through the meal, and he spends the time getting acquainted with his new, lowkey Instagram account.

He blocks the Bucky Barnes hashtag the minute he gets an account again. God save his eyes from people asking him to break their back like a glow-stick. However, one afternoon of accidentally watching three cat videos has led to his entire explore page being taken over by them and he’s been trying for three days to get it to stop.

“Just trying to-” he tilts his head. “-understand what I’m reading.”

“Not a big fan of Greek food?” You join him in looking at the menu.

“Never really had the chance to try.” Tony and Bruce don’t seem to be in the room, probably pushing aside their meal to work on it as they’ve often done.

“Ah.” You already had your order in mind but you wait there.

Two minutes later he’s still staring at the menu. He can feel your presence next to him, unmoving. It unnerves him.

“Why are you still standing here?” He cranes his neck to look at you.

“I’m just seeing how long it takes for you to order.” You shrug. “So far it’s been five minutes and forty six seconds. Forty eight now.”

“Go away.” The concept of someone standing beside him, waiting for him to do something reminded him far too much of him trying to bag his stuff at the grocery counter rapidly while other customers waited to pay.

“Six minutes and thirty seconds. This is just sad now.”

“Your face is sad.” It was pathetic that he had now resorted to this.

It earned a laugh from you.

As entertaining as it was to be able to get on his nerves by just standing silently next to him, you finally ask, “Do you want a recommendation?”

He eyes you wearily. “You gonna give me food poisoning?”

“Not today, no.” You shake your head slightly. “Maybe tomorrow.”

He stares a little longer. You remain unshaken in your offer.

“Fine.” He sighs, stepping aside.

You tell him that since it’s his first time, you’d get him something basic. He thought it made sense.

He argued with you when you ended up paying for the both of you, only shutting up when you told him he’s holding up the line and that he could pay you back later. It doesn’t stop his incessant mumble complaining.

He ends up with gyros at his table and you sitting opposite him with your meal. He asks where the Science Bros are. You tell him it’s Science Hoes now, as christened by Tony, and that they’re in the lab.

“So?” You look at him eagerly.

“What?”

“How is it?” you urge, nodding at him.

He takes a cautious bite, really taking his time with it to annoy your impatient ass.

“Well?” You raise your eyebrow at him.

“It’s-” he pauses, looking down at his food. “-good.”

“Aha.” You lean back victoriously. “Knew it.”

He likes it. He also knows that this is probably going to be the only thing he orders for the next week unless you had planned otherwise.

“You’re not eating?” He gestures to your untouched tray.

“Taking it up to the lab. Got a few things to work on and we’re already behind.” You gather up your stuff and get up.

“Uh-” he pauses from practically inhaling the entire thing. He was already halfway done with it. “-thanks.”

“No problem. You wink at him. “Try figuring out what’s wrong with it.”

You turn on your heel to leave, taking your order with you. He can see your shoulders bobbing with silent laughter.

He stares down at his plate, swallowing slowly.

He pokes at it with a fork, lifting up the leftovers to check if there’s anything underneath. Nothing.

He checks to see if his limbs are still intact or his face was a different colour. Nope.

His stomach twists in worry about what’s going to happen. He still has a bit left but he pushes the tray aside.

The rest of the day he spends supervising you has you occasionally catching his eye, only to laugh. It only freaks him out more.

It takes eight hours of waiting and self induced tests later to realise there was nothing wrong with it. You were just playing with him.

He’s surprised to find you in the rec room when he strolls in with Sam, given that you haven’t taken a break all day.

You don’t share the same surprise... almost like you expected him.

“How long have you been waiting for me?” he immediately asks.

"I wasn’t here for you.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Heard that Wilson was makin’ an appearance here soon so I stopped by to get a good look at him."

"Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Sam laughs, inserting a dollar into the machine and punching in the code for what he wanted.

"Gladly. Strike a pose, would you?" You grin, raising your phone.

“Maybe when I’m not covered in sweat.” Sam counter offers and you accept with a thumbs up.

“You going to the parade, Sam?” You toy with the can in your hands.

“I’ll be working security, so probably.”

“Sarge?” You take a swig of your drink.

“Huh?” He snaps back into the conversation, putting a stop to the mental list of reasons he was making of why you could be here at the same time as him. He knew your schedule, it wouldn’t be very hard for you to figure out his.

“You coming to the parade on Sunday?” you ask again.

“I guess.”

You wince.

“What?” he asks instantly, curiosity making him a lot sloppier than usual.

“It’s just- you wear so much black.” You gesture to his current getup to prove your point. ”I feel like all the bright colours would vaporise you if you looked at them.”

He doesn’t look amused.

“You know, like Prince Philip.”

“I think I’ll be fine.” He gives you a sarcastic smile.

“You comin’ Buck?” Sam laughs, unwrapping the bar he bought from the machine.

“You go ahead, I’ll catch up,” Bucky says offhandedly, still glaring at you innocently drinking your soda.

Sam chews absentmindedly on his protein bar as he walks out, amused at the situation Bucky pulled himself into.

“What’d you do?” Bucky asks, studying your body language.

“I bought a soda.” You lift the can to prove your point. “And now I’m drinking it.”

“Why are you waiting for me?”

“I thought I’d return the favour,” you point out. “I’m supervising you.”

“Don’t.” He walks to the vending machine, pulling out his wallet for some loose change. There was a Snickers bar he had been craving since morning that he bought every alternate day. Small joys.

“Why? I have the time.” You take a sip, setting it down with a clang.

“You’re only here for this week.” Bucky counted the coins he had. He’d use a dollar but he was trying to get rid of the jingling in his pocket that made him sound like a fucking clown when he walked.

“Actually,” you begin innocuously, “Tony offered me a full-time position.”

Bucky’s movements stop, hunched over the money in his palm.

“What?”

“Yeah.” You nod seriously. “A full nine-to-five as a researcher here.”

“And you’re taking it.” He shakes himself out of the minor shock to assess the damage.

“I don’t know. I got a lot of things to consider.” The chair scrapes against the tiled floor as you stand up. “But maybe you should get used to seeing me a lot more around here.”

He punches in the code for his Snickers. The row whirs forward slowly.

“See you at the lab.” He hears you discard the empty can in the trash before exiting.

He waits patiently for his bar to drop while his mind internally screams about the consequences of having you work here. You wouldn’t be evil anymore. Unless you were here to steal secrets from the Tower. On the pro side, his weekend would be free again. On the con side, his weekend would be free again.

His bar stops right at the edge of the row. He waits for it to fall over. It doesn’t.

He shakes the machine, suppressing the primal urge to beat the shit out of it when the damn bar refuses to fall.

He punches in a few random buttons hoping that at least it would give his money back.

The little monitor instead flashes a new message across the screen.

‘Have a good day, sarge <3’

Motherfucker.

Captain America looks less daunting up close, you realise. But he is still a very large man with very large shoulders. You know at least four people who would like to scale him like a tree, not that you’d ever tell him.

“Hey, Y/N.” He sends you a small smile when you walk into the room for a mid-week update. A clipboard in your hand, report attached and a few stationery items in case some points needed to be noted done, you look professional and ready.

“Afternoon, Captain.” Tony saves a seat for you and Bruce beside him since you’re on the same project. You almost miss the fact that Bucky isn’t in the room.

He walks in a few minutes late; tall, dark and brooding, immediately bringing the excitement in the room down by 40% by just existing.

Bucky surveys the room before catching your eye. He picks up his chair with ease and drags it over to where you are, sitting right beside you, ignoring the small cry of protest from an agent whose view he now obstructed. Everyone else just silently shifted over.

“Clingy much?” you whisper at him, eyes still trained on Steve who had waited till everyone was seated to continue.

“I’m supposed t’be keeping an eye on you,” he rebuffs in a hush.

“Well, you’re late. What if I went rogue, huh?”

“Therapy ran overtime,” he mumbles.

“Oh.” You blink. “How was it?”

“Same old.”

“You good?”

He refrains from answering when Steve starts addressing the room but yes, he was fine. He sends you a nod to confirm.

“This is just a usual checking in. We’ve received all your reports, but just to keep everyone on the same page-”

Bucky logs out mentally. He knows what his job is, he’ll probably lead a division of the security team or join the mission to neutralise the threat in case they find it first. Either way, he’ll figure it out without having to listen to an intern nervously stammer their way through their team’s report.

On the other hand, you’re not listening either. You were until you saw Bucky’s eyes glaze over while glowering at the window, assuming that he had stopped paying attention when his gaze doesn’t shift.

You should be listening. You’re new here and you should know what’s going on because any bits of detail are crucial to the working of your system.

Instead, you rip out a sticky note and discreetly place it on the back of Bucky’s metal arm. He doesn’t notice.

You bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling. More post-its from your pile of stationery make their way onto the vibranium, shades of pink, purple, green and yellow decorating his arm like a bulletin board.

You’re about to contemplate sticking one on his shoulder blade when he whips around to look at you. You freeze, hand in the air with a sticky note. He looks down at his arm, a scoff escaping him in disbelief.

“Are you serious?” He twists his arm to check the extent of how far you’ve gone. “What are you, six?”

“How’d it take you so long to notice?” You watch as he tugs them off one by one, counting to see how many you had managed to get on there.

“It’s impossible not to zone out in these shitty meetings,” he mumbles, pulling off the last one, crumpling all of them into a ball to throw at you. You skilfully avoid them.

“Don’t you feel pressure or heat or anything here?” You poke at his metal arm.

“No.” He clenches and releases the fist. “It can block bullets though.”

You snort. “Bet that’s a popular line in bed.”

He rolls his eyes. “I mean, it helps that I can’t feel anything. Sometimes,” he adds the last part as an afterthought.

“Like when you’re blocking bullets.”

“Especially then.” He nods.

“Would you ever want to?” you ask casually. “Like if you got the choice, would you prefer having feeling in that arm?”

“I don’t know.” He’s thought about it, but it doesn’t seem feasible in his line of work. He’d like it, though, to feel sand slipping through his fingers and the comforter under his palm. “Maybe when I’m retired.”

“Aren’t you well past that age?”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes. “And pay attention. You’re next.”

“So you are listening.” True to his word, Steve asks about what’s going on with your team. “Traitor.”

Tony shoots off about how you only had to test it out on a small batch first to see if you could acquire the targeted data without compromising anything else. You chime in about a few specifics, and Bruce more or less just confirms what you both are saying, only stopping to let them know that you’d be finished in a day or two.

Steve nods, moving on to the next committee.

“Did I get a good grade?” you whisper when you lean back again.

“B minus at best.”

“Fuck you, dude. I was great,” you protested. “It’s definitely worth a gold sticker.”

Someone shushes you sharply. You apologise quietly, whacking Bucky’s metal arm when you see a dumb smirk on his face.

He narrows his eyes at you.

You try sticking another post-it on him.

You’re only here for a week. That’s what he’s been told. Over six times, actually, after which he’s been told to go away the next time he asked.

No one’s brought up the job offer so he asks Tony if it was true and all he gets is a dismissive ‘yeah, whatever’. Besides, you haven’t told him if you accepted or denied it yet so isn’t sure if this entire thing is set in stone, per se.

So then why do you have a giant box of your belongings that you’re lugging around the lab, looking to set down?

And why does Tony allow you a table right in the centre of the lab for everyone to see as soon as they walk in?

There are a gazillion trinkets, picture frames and obnoxiously bright stationery that stands out against the dull minimalism of the lab.

“Every single one of these is a fire hazard,” he reports, standing over your desk.

You give him a side glance before reaching over to the side of your desk, pulling up a fire extinguisher and setting it on the table in front of him. “I came prepared, bitch boy.”

He doesn’t dignify that with a response. He chooses to look at what exactly you’ve brought with you because it’s a lot.

There are small cards with ‘thank you!’ sprawled on them in uneven lettering, bits and pieces of paper with small cartoons on them, little clay models and other miniature trophies with ‘you’re the best!’ under it.

“Your students gave you these?” He can’t remember the last time he gave his teacher anything other than a headache.

“Sometimes they learn or communicate better when they have something to keep their hands busy.” There’s a certain fondness in your voice that he isn’t used to hearing. “I end up with a lot of doodles and craft.”

“’s nice of them.” He can tell that this means a lot to you. He hasn’t seen it before.

He thinks the little decorations are adorable and maybe he’d keep another fire extinguisher on hand, just in case.

Until you start pulling out a set of framed photos and his smile drops.

Several collages of Bucky in flower crowns, him with terribly edited backgrounds of beaches and mountains, a photo of him laughing with ‘Live, Laugh, Love’ next to it in an italicised font.

“What the fuck,” he states, grabbing one of them.

You stifle a laugh, pulling out several more to place along your table.

“Where did you fucking get these?” He starts pulling them off the table one by one.

“I don’t think you know how much the internet is obsessed with you.” You set an especially large one of him in a Hello Kitty bowtie right in the centre. He doesn’t miss the star shaped frame you chose for this.

“What is wrong with you?” He swipes that up immediately, looking for a place to discard, possibly burn these pictures. “Why do you even have these?”

“It’s imperative that people know we’re friends.” You bite your lip, bringing out the last thing to annoy him.

“What is that?” A teddy bear with a blue jacket and a grey felt arm stared into his soul.

“A Bucky bear.” Don’t laugh, don’t laugh, don’t laugh. “Limited edition.”

He snatches it along with the fifteen other picture frames, thinly veiled distress and mostly disgust on his face.

“I hate you.”

“But I love you.” You lift the small heart shaped locket you hung on one of the pictures of your class.

You use both your hands to click it open for him, watching his face morph into one of disbelief.

Bucky my beloved, it read on the right with a small picture of him on the left looking intensely disgruntled. He doesn’t bother asking where you found that specific picture of him outside a Burger King at 3am.

He doesn’t even make an effort to take it away this time. He knows that you’ll simply bring up more and more until you drove him crazy.

“You still have to see the Avengers calendar.” You reach for the inside. “I changed all the pictures to you, it looks great-”

He turns around and leaves before you get a chance to flip open the pages.

He wanders around, looking for the best disposal area he can find. He knows there’s a giant fireplace in the common room in the Tower, and for that, he’d have to go up a couple of floors.

He steps into the elevator, chin pressing down on the several picture frames in his hands to prevent them from falling over.

No one sees him carrying a couple of fan edited pictures and merchandise of him. Which was good.

Unfortunately, the doors ding open on the next floor and his best friend steps on with possibly the worst timing ever.

“Buck?” Steve sounds confused. He should be, considering the sight.

Bucky shimmies slightly to get a better grip on his belongings. “Steven.”

Steve glances at what he’s holding.

“Is this,” Steve pauses, trying to frame his words correctly to sound as supportive as possible, “a therapy thing?”

“No.”

Steve waits for a further explanation.

“It’s Y/N’s,” he elucidates. Steve’s eyebrows furrow.

“Why are there so many pictures of you?” He looks at the content in his hands a little closer. “And a bear.”

“She’s evil. And I hate her.”

“Alright.” It doesn’t answer his question but his friend looks irked enough.

The elevator dings to the common room floor.

Bucky turns on his heel to head toward the place to set all the pictures on fire. He saves the picture frames to give back to you though, he’s sure those cost money. But he makes sure every last square inch of the picture with several hearts around his portrait burns to ash.

Bucky knows that by the time Saturday afternoon rolls around, the three of you would have been working for thirty hours straight, scrambling to get the last minute details done.

You’re still at it but he can tell through the adrenaline of the upcoming deadline that you’re exhausted.

Now he’s grouchy but he’s not an asshole. He’s already done two coffee runs for the team and brought you food when you didn’t show up for lunch. He mumbles something and dismisses it when you call out a ‘thank you’ his way. He considers it a debt repaid for the gyros.

He’s still keeping an eye on you but along with an emergency box of doughnuts for any sugar rushes that may be needed and bottles of water that he occasionally leaves at the corner of the table for you three to subconsciously keep yourself hydrated.

“Are you sure we checked it?”

“Yes.” Bruce nods.

“Double checked it?”

“Yes.”

“Triple checked it.”

“Yes.”

You look satisfied enough to move on to the next item. “Pass me the welding torch for a second.”

Bucky has a book in front of him that he hasn’t moved beyond the second page of. He’s more interested in seeing who collapses from burnout first. He has the infirmary on speed dial.

After another hour or so Tony holds up a silver tablet, roughly the same size as a smartphone, examining it from all sides.

“That’s it,” he states. “The final product.”

You exhale lightly.

“We should name it.” You have your hands on your hips, looking down at it in wonder. Maybe the zero hours of sleep was finally kicking in because you couldn’t believe you were finally done.

“You got any suggestions?” Tony asks.

To be frank, no, you didn’t.

“No.”

“Okay, we’ll do that later.” Tony sets it down, not sounding too disappointed. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, tell the team to get down here, please.”

“Yes, boss.”

Bucky jumps off his chair to join you in the lab, leaving the book behind.

It only takes a few moments for the others to join. Fury and Steve walk in together, already engaged in conversation.

“Greetings.” You clap your hands together. “We did it. We think.”

“We think?” Nick raises an eyebrow.

“We know,” Bruce clarifies quickly, stepping in. “We’re positive it works. We tested it out.”

Tony pulls up the holograph of F.R.I.D.AY’s system, sliding the tablet to the middle of the table.

“Is it secured under FRIDAY’s core?”

“Locked and loaded.” Tony hits the table lightly to signify that it was safe.

“I think we’re ready,” Bruce confirms.

“We better be, or else half the country is suddenly going to lose their internet connection,” you say under your breath.

“What?” Bucky’s eyebrows knit together.

“Nothing,” you beamed, “Okay F.R.I.D.A.Y., run sequence, global parameter.”

“Running sequence,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. parrots.

There was no going back now.

From what Bucky can see, Tony looks fairly confident but you have your bottom lip caged between your teeth, chewing on it nervously.

There are several hundreds of photographs popping up and disappearing within a minute. Everything looks like it’s going according to plan.

The giant holograph of the AI dims. Your face drops when F.R.I.D.A.Y. seems to sputter to a halt.

No one breathes.

In the midst of the tension, Clint mutters if they should play some background music. It’s followed by a swift ‘ow’ when Natasha flicks him in the shoulder.

You could hear a pin drop.

It suddenly picks back up again, running faster than the last time and the sigh everyone collectively heaves is almost comical.

It runs for a few seconds more before a list of names suddenly pop up accompanied by a series of photographs and geo locations.

“Sequence complete. Six names detected, zero encroachment on public or private databases,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. broadcasted. “Location determined to be Holland. Exact coordinates are computed into the quinjet.”

You let out a small cheer, looping your arm around Bruce, squeezing him in a half hug. He has a smile on his face, dropping his head as he laughs slightly.

“How dangerous are they?” Tony, however, continues to ask.

“A few prior convictions and a series of similar threats. Danger level determined to be at approximately five out of ten.”

“That’s not bad,” Steve commented. “Looks like we don’t need the full team there.”

“Romanoff, Barton, Wilson, Rogers can go ahead and take care of that,” Nick finally spoke up. “Everyone else is working security tomorrow, just in case anyone else decides that terrorism is on their fuckin’ to-do list for the day.”

“Buck, assemble a team and go over strategy for tomorrow,” Steve adds on. “Everyone else go suit up, wheels up in thirty minutes.”

“Fuckin’ Holland,” Sam scoffs, shaking his head. “Of all the places.”

“What do you have against Holland?” Nat asks as they leave together.

“Just don’t like ‘em.” Their voices grow faint the further they get.

“Hey.” A small greeting from behind you has you turning around.

Wanda stands in front of you and you have to ignore the fact that the most powerful being on Earth is talking to you.

“Hey,” you say back.

“I just wanted to say congratulations. You did a great job.” Bits and pieces of her accent poked out. She didn’t seem like she was putting in the effort to cover it up as opposed to the press interviews you had heard a few years ago.

“Thank you.” You smile. “T’was a team effort.”

“Well, we owe you one anyway,” Steve joins the conversation, leaving aside Tony who was still talking to Bruce.

“I wish I was humble enough to turn it down but I’m not.” You laugh. “It’s nice to have an arsenal of superheroes at my disposal.”

Steve looks like he’s going to respond but his attention is drawn towards F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s announcement that the quinjet was ready to go. He shoots you an apologetic look but you sign for him to go on, you’d meet with him later.

You watch as he claps Tony on the back, telling him to go get some sleep and something with more nutritional value than a pizza pocket in him, nodding at Bruce before taking leave.

“Y/L/N,” Nick stands beside you, looking ahead at the conversations being had as Steve tugs Clint along with him.

“Nicky,” you tease.

“I know at least seven underground prisons I can put you in if anyone hears you calling me that,” he says stoically.

“We all know you won’t get rid of me.” You shake your head. “Who’s gonna send you a Christmas card then, huh?”

He simply shakes his head, jutting his hand out and offering a handshake. “Not sure anyone here could handle another day of a highly caffeinated, sleep-deprived Stark.”

“Just say ‘thanks’, Nick, geez.” You roll your eyes.

Bucky watches the entire interaction unfurl; only the body language, not employing the lip-reading ability.

“You’re welcome.” You let go of his hand, a devilish look on your face. “You know what I want in return.”

Nick gives you a long, hard stare that could probably melt through Steve’s shield before turning around to leave.

But Bucky doesn’t miss the subtle high-five he gives you while walking out, unbeknownst to anyone else, bringing the biggest grin to your face.

He makes it a point to ask you what the fuck kind of leverage you have over the man for him to play favourites with you.

You finally collapse at your desk, letting out a loud exhale. You clench your eyes shut, your body finally melting into your chair. You look exhausted.

He’s not sure how to help. You don’t seem like you have the energy to tell him.

Bucky leaves a doughnut and water bottle on the table in front of you before shuffling out of the room quietly.

He’s certain that he’s spent far too long in Bruce’s lab this week. He liked the man as much as the next guy, but he probably wouldn’t come down there for the foreseeable future.

You’re at your assigned desk, reading light illuminating the space. Thankfully you’ve cleared up most of your stuff from the table, leaving no more liabilities to fall over in case he walked into the desk.

“So you’re done for the week.” His voice surprises you. You were scrolling through your phone, slightly hunched over.

“It appears so.” You put your phone down, swivelling the chair to look at him.

“How’d it go?” He leans against your table, making sure he isn’t using his full weight.

“Well, I slept for fifteen hours straight, so...” you leave him to connect the dots. He’s done the same several times.

“You’re probably gonna need more,” he says, mostly from his own experience, “I’ll see you tomorrow then?”

“Actually-” you reach beside your table and lug your gigantic box of belongings onto the table with a loud thud, “-you won’t.”

He looks at the box that was nearly overflowing with its contents, the majority of the space being taken up by empty picture frames. “I thought you said Tony offered you a job.”

“He did,” you confirm. “I didn’t accept.”

“Why?” He watches you shift through a few things, adjusting it so that it wouldn’t fall over.

“This whole thing- it’s cool and all, but it’s not what I want to do.” You shrug. “I like teaching. I miss my class.”

He gaze lands on one of the thank you notes sticking out from the corner of the box. “Ah.”

“Back to school from tomorrow.”

“And evil on the weekends?” he prods, dropping a pen into the heap of stationery.

“Obviously.” You give him a lopsided smile. “Where else am I gonna use all this brilliance?”

You point to your head. He lets out a small exhale in the form of a laugh.

“Speaking of-” You look like you just remembered something.

You rummage through your backpack and pull out a small container, handing it to him.

“What’s this?” He turns it over, looking for any hidden clues. “Are you proposing again, because I’ve said no-”

“I’m not proposing,” you interrupt, “yet.”

He gives you a deadpan look.

“Open it,” you urge, and he complies.

Two small squares sit side-by-side. They’re slick black, barely bigger than the face of a dice.

“You put one of them here-” You tap on his bicep “-and the other here.” You tap his shoulder, a few inches below his clavicle.

“What does it do?” He thinks it’s like Nat’s little taser things, a nifty little tool that he could use on missions.

“It, uh-” you hesitate “-it allows you to feel sensation in your metal arm. Heat, pressure, texture.”

His breath hitches in his throat. He doesn’t mean for it to happen, it just does.

“You said that sometimes you’re glad you couldn’t because of the bullets and stuff. They’re detachable, so just take them off when you go on missions and wherever it is you Spandex ambassadors go.” You scoff slightly.

He can’t remember the last time he felt something soft with that arm or used it for something that wasn’t directly related to his job.

“I’m not messing with what the Wakandans gave you. It’s the most advanced piece of tech out there.” You shrug. “But if you ever want to feel it when someone attaches sticky notes to your arm, this could work. Just thought it’d be nice to have an option.”

He can’t decipher what he’s feeling right now. He looks up at you, only to catch you eyeing him cautiously, assessing his reaction. When you notice he’s looking at you, a nervous smile makes its way onto your face.

His stomach does a flip.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

“Don’t mention it.” You sound a little relieved, picking up the box that he’s pretty sure weighed a ton what with all his memorabilia in it. “See you next week.”

He doesn’t know how to explain what it means to him.

Instead, he shoves his hands into his pockets. “What are you doing later?”

“Nothing.” You pause. “Why?”

“Are you gonna watch the parade?”

“Yeah, probably.” You shift your weight to your other leg to compensate for the box.

“Want some company?”

“Aren’t you heading a security division?” You have to consciously hide the bewilderment from your voice.

“Yeah. The place I’m stationed just so happens to have a good look into the street,” he explains, toying with the bracelet on his wrist. “Can’t really promise that I’ll be paying attention to it or that I’d even be there the whole time but for the most part...” he trails off.

“Uh-” You force yourself to shove aside your surprise at his determination, “yeah, sure. That’d be cool.”

He nods. “Okay. See you there.”

“See you,” you murmur as you walk to the elevator.

He opens the tiny container to look at the small chips. They’re still there, silently like they don’t change his world just by existing.

Gosh.

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨1

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) nothing as yet.

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: Yay, mob Clark. And I know what you’re saying right now, enough with Clark Kent! I get it haha. Promise, for a while, this will be the last I do of him. I have Lee fic in the work right now, the early development of medieval Peter, and I’m still sitting on some Loki ft. an exchange student... and then all my other series of course!

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You stood against the wall, chewing your lip as you looked around the gallery. You should be ecstatic, you should be floating around on a cloud, but all you could feel was crushing anxiety. It was truly a dream come true; your art hanging on the wall. Only three pieces, but it was there, and your name was below it in print.

You tugged on the waist of your dress and teetered in your heels. It was a borrowed outfit, you couldn’t afford anything appropriate to the upscale venue. The classic starving artist, or almost. You slipped your phone from your purse and up your sleeve. You subtly checked the time and for the little chat icon in the corner. Still no message.

Marcus was almost an hour late. He texted just after the event opened to warn you he was caught up with work but you worried he wouldn’t show up at all. It wasn’t his fault his boss was a jackass but you weren’t prepared to face this alone. You dropped your phone back into your slender purse and snapped it shut.

Vanessa, the gallery owner, made you flinch as she appeared almost out of the air. You smiled at her shyly and stopped chewing your lip.

“You should mingle,” she said, “you have an interested buyer. You might have a few more if you come out from the corner.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so nervous,” you confessed, “I-- thank you so much for this opportunity.”

“You earned it,” she touched your arm daintily, “all those hard hours working the back room, I couldn’t not hang a few pieces.”

You fixed your posture and tried to seem as confident as her. Your income came solely from hours of at-home data entry as you volunteered at the gallery in your few hours between. It was all worth it and maybe if you sold something tonight, Vanessa would feature you work again and you wouldn’t need to spend the bulk of your days staring at tiny font.

“So, where’s this buyer?” you asked hopefully.

“That’s my girl,” Vanessa trilled, “he seems very interested.”

She led you across the room, stopping to greet other artists and old friends with a kiss on the cheek and deep laughter. You’d met them all before as you were often working at these events. It was your first time as one of them.

When at last you neared your little stretch of the wall, a man stood with his head slightly back as he stared at your proto-renaissance portraits. He was tall and his broad shoulders strained the rich fabric of his jacket. His dark hair was neatly parted and a slight curl marked the front above the shadow of scruff poking out along his jawline.

“Mr. Kent,” Vanessa chimed, “I found her.”

He turned to look at you and his deep blue eyes struck you. He smiled between you and the gallery owner, his chiseled jaw even more defined by the gesture.

“This is Mr. Kent,” she introduced you in turn, “I believe he was interested in the larger piece.”

“All three, if you don’t have another buyer lined up,” he intoned, “I think they belong together.”

“All of them?” you raised your brows, “well, I, yeah, I guess--”

“We can put something together for you,” Vanessa interrupted your awkward stuttering, “let me just mark them.”

She took the silver pen she kept on a chain around her wrist and scribbled in the corner of the tags to mark them as sold. You were slightly numb at your disbelief. You were a bit reluctant to part with your work but the check would ease your grief.

“The way you use colours,” he said as he faced the paintings again, “I’ve recently had some work done in my house and I hate the sight of naked walls.”

“Thank you,” you said as you stepped a little closer and looked at your delicate strokes.

“Pardon me,” Vanessa rushed away as she beckoned to one of her assistants and prattled orders.

“Vanessa tells me you’re a new artist,” he said.

“New in a sense,” you said, “I guess, I’m officially an artist now.”

“Oh? I’m flattered. Your first buyer?”

“Besides some online fanart, yeah,” you replied, “so, Mr. Kent, what do you do?”

“Clark,” he corrected, “and a little bit of everything.”

An awkward silence took over and was thankfully interrupted by your name. You turned as Marcus rushed over and his shoes slipped on the polished floor. He reached you and kissed your cheek as he caught his breath.

“I’m so sorry, I got caught in traffic on the way over and then my oil light started flashing,” he gasped out.

“Hey, you’re here,” you rubbed his shoulder and straightened his tie without thinking as it hung at an angle.

“So, you sell anything yet?” he asked.

“Yes, actually, um, Mr-- Clark,” you gestured to the man standing patiently to the side, “he just bought all three.”

“Damn,” Marcus said, “guess I can hold onto my savings.”

“Marc,” you nudged his arm with your knuckles, “you know we can’t afford your cheesiness.”

“Sorry, uh,” Marcus laughed at himself, “I’m Marcus.”

He held out his hand and Clark shook it. His eyes strayed to you as his features sharpened just a little.

“You two…?” he ventured.

“Five years,” Marcus announced, “guess we’re going steady.”

“Oh,” Clark nodded placidly, “are you an artist too?”

“God no, I can hardly write my own name legibly,” Marcus kidded, “I’m a developer.”

“Computers,” Clark mused.

“Yeah, computers,” Marcus scoffed, “and you?”

“Own a couple businesses,” Clark shrugged.

“Must be successful if you can hang around here,” Marcus said and you elbowed him in embarrassment.

“I guess,” Clark smoothed his dark purple jacket and checked his watch, “I’ll let you two be. Maybe I’ll find something to go with these fine pieces.”

“Thank you,” you said sweetly, “I’m happy to see my work go to a good home.”

“I hope to see more in future,” he returned kindly.

He turned and carried on to the statue constructed of can tabs and greeted another suited man. You looked at Marcus as he leaned in to read the tags beneath your paintings. He stood and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Holy shit, ten grand?” he hissed.

“Pretty good pay for one night,” you chirped, “glad you could make it.”

“Sorry again, I… I had to redo some code. Adam was in a mood so,” he shook his head and sighed, “let’s not talk about it. Let’s celebrate.” He peeked over at the server with a tray of stemmed flutes, “and you can decide what you’re going to buy me with that check.”

“Hush,” you chided as you took a glass of champagne, “now is not the time to go over bills.”

🎨

At the end of the night, you watched one of the assistants take down your canvas and you helped wrap them in paper and twine. As you finished a loopy knot, you were surprised by the figure beside you. You looked up and set the smallest piece atop the larger ones. Clark smiled as you moved to let him pick them up.

“All yours,” you said, almost mournful to see them go.

“Thanks,” he said as he tucked them easily under his thick arm, “I forgot earlier but do you have a card? Are you open for commissions?”

“You must have a lot of walls,” you looked down and opened your purse, “I have a card and I could try a commission.”

You slid out one of the cards that had lingered in your wallet for more than a year. You handed it to him and he read the flowery font before tucking it away in his jacket.

“I do… have a lot of walls,” he said with a smirk, “I’ll give you a call once these are hung.”

“O-okay,” you kept from wringing your hands and closed your purse, “thank you… again.”

“My pleasure,” assured, “have a good night.”

“Yeah, good night,” you said and watched him go.

You let out a breath and smiled to yourself. You would talk to Vanessa and get your cut of the check before you went. Then you could worry about getting Marcus home. He’d had a little too much champagne and you’d left him in the backroom so you could help with the clean-up.

Vanessa bid goodbye to one of her featured artists as you neared. She turned to you and threw up her hands in delight.

“Wonderful, darling,” she said, “you earned that wall.”

“Thanks,” you grinned bashfully.

“Really. That man has never bought a piece before,” she smirked, “I’ve been dying to get into his wallet for years.”

“I never saw him before…”

“Oh, well, yes, he has not been to many of these either. I often see him at other galleries,” she explained, “I hope you have some more for the next.”

“Um, yeah, I should be able to--”

“I’ll have the check for you tomorrow,” she patted your shoulder as her eye was caught by another, “go get your boyfriend out of my studio.”

You accepted your dismissal and turned on your heel. That was just Vanessa, steely but slightly flighty as well. Besides, you were exhausted and you would likely be dragging Marcus into a cab.

You found him slumped at the paint-splattered table. You shook him awake and smiled dopily as he opened his eyes.

“Babe,” he pushed his arm around you.

“Marcus,” you drawled in disappointment, “let’s get out of here.”

“Huh?” He looked around and hiccupped, “oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. You had a long day,” you assured him as you rubbed his back and let him lean on you as he stood, “I’m just happy you showed up after all that nonsense.”

“Of course, babe,” he slurred and you helped him through the door.

You kept your head down as you slowly sneaked out past Vanessa but you didn’t miss her side-eye. It was best to be as covert as possible. You came out through the door and nearly dropped Marcus.

“Jesus, can I get a little help?” you snipped as you looked around for a yellow cab.

“Sorry, baby, sorry,” he got his feet flat but it hardly helped take his weight off of you.

You raised your hand to hail a cab and he slipped down your arm. Your ankle bent as you turned to try to catch him before you dropped him entirely. He was saved from hitting the ground as he was caught by another. You looked over his head as he was pushed up to his feet again.

Clark kept his arm behind Marcus as you stared at him, “oh my god, thank you.”

“No problem,” he said as he steadied your boyfriend, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied as you lifted your foot and kept the weight off your ankle, “I just need to get a taxi.” You raised your hand again as you tried to see past the large man, “if you don’t mind getting him in--”

“You can ride with me,” he said brusquely as he turned with Marcus and peered back at you, “this way.”

“We can’t--”

“On that ankle,” he said as you began to limp after him, “you won’t get him out on your own.”

“Really, I’m fine--”

“I don’t mind,” he said coolly as he came to a silver sports car and balanced Marcus against him as he opened the door, “I’ll need an address.”

“Uh, oh,” you folded your hands, “thank you. Really, you’ve done too much.”

“It happens. I’ve had these nights,” he put Marcus across the seat and folded his legs up and shut the door, “you can take the front and tell me where I’m going.”

You hesitated and he opened the front door. You neared and hissed as you stumbled on your ankle. You caught yourself on his arm and quickly retracted your hand as you apologized.

“It’s alright,” he said as you sat in the front seat. He knelt and gently took your ankle. His thumb rubbed the swollen joint, “you really banged yourself up.”

“I’ll be okay,” you assured him, “thanks.”

He let go and stood. He waited for you to turn your legs into the car and gently closed the door. He rounded to the other side and got in as he fished around for his keys. He turned the engine and gripped the wheel with one hand as he took out his phone. He placed it on the magnetic holder and his fingers flicked over the screen.

“Address?” he asked.

You recited it and winced as Siri responded, ‘calculating route’. You shrunk against the luxury leather and glanced at him. He let out a huff and steered into the mostly empty street.

“I’m sorry about all this--”

“No, don’t be,” he glanced in the rearview, “he must be happy for you.”

“Yeah, uh, I think he is,” you said as he followed the map directions, “I am too. I mean, it will go along way… uh, well, you know, things can be tough or--” you shrugged, “I mean, it’s not about the money.”

“Yeah, but it’s nice to be paid,” he said lightly, “and I don’t mind paying for good art.”

You looked out the window as your cheeks burned. You could smell his cologne, subtle but strong. You played with your purse as your nerves brewed in your chest. You watched the sidewalks and the street lights as your surroundings grew more familiar.

He pulled up to your building. It wasn’t the greatest area and the brick façade was faded and cracked. Before you could get out, he was at your door. He offered his hand and helped you out as you leaned on the car. He let you go and opened the back and lifted Marcus out. He hooked your boyfriend’s arm over his shoulder and offered his other arm.

“Come on,” he said.

“Look, you don’t-- there’s an elevator.”

“I’d feel better if I got you inside,” he insisted, “especially in this area.”

You relented and took his arm and limped beside him up the steps. You took out your keys and went ahead of him as he dragged Marcus in. You went to the elevator and hit the button. The doors glided open and you stepped inside. He stood close in the small metal box and Marcus murmured dumbly at his side.

The doors dinged and he let you out first. He followed you down the hall and you unlocked your apartment and waved him inside. He carried Marcus to the couch at your direction and you leaned against the armchair as you bent your leg to check your ankle.

“You should put some ice on that,” Clark said as he neared, “get some sleep yourself.”

“Yeah, I will,” you assured, “thank you, again.”

You felt embarrassed as you eyed his expensive suit and looked around your tiny apartment. It must have been laughable to him. He hardly seem bothered as he retreated to the door.

“I’ll let you then,” he said, “and thank you. I really do like your work.”

The door shut in his stead and you heard his footsteps down the long hall until the door at the end swung open. You glanced at Marcus and shook your head. You weren’t as happy to have had him at the show then.

#clark kent #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #clark kent x reader #fic #series #mob au #mob!au #mob!clark kent #portrait of a dangerous man #dark fic #dark!fic #superman #au #dc #dcu

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

Text

My Works:

~Most~ of my works are SWF (open to minors) but again, anything tagged "NSFW" is not written for minors. While I do primarily write for she/her readers, I do also write for gender neutral readers. Please read my guidelines before you request a fic/blurb.

SFW FICS

forever is the sweetest con: after a successful case, which is hard to come by the BAU, the team (season 3 team) celebrates with drinks at the bar. things go arise when penelope convinces a normally reserved y/n to sing karaoke. (Angstish Fluff)

sweet valentine: a 22 year old spencer reid finds himself thinking about his firsts...and the one first that he has yet to accomplish. (Fluff)

cutie pi: spencer reid’s second favorite holiday isn’t really a holiday, but it’s sure a day that he’ll never forget (Fluff and terrible math puns)

you kiss my face and we’re both drunk: Who would have figured that a normally serious genius with an eidetic memory would be a silly, forgetful drunk, or drunk Spencer realizes how much he loves Y/N. (Fluff; CW: Drunkenness)

49%: If there’s one thing that Spencer hates more than rejection, it’s spontaneity. But sometimes the things (and people) we love outweigh the things that we hate. AKA a series of events leading up to a weekend wedding between the BAU’s finest Dr. Spencer Reid and his partner in crime, Y/N. (Fluff)

i’ll take x-pecting for 200, alex: Dr. Spencer Reid plays a trivia game at the request of his wife, Y/N, but he’s in for more than some heaving hitting questions (fluff)

take my hand and drag me head first: Spencer Reid is a scientist and scientists love predictability; but love isn’t predictable, it’s fearless.

wrap your arms around me, baby boy: Sometimes love at first just might be the thing that’ll make you want to get married with paper rings.

i can’t help it if you look like an angel: Spencer is not that kind of doctor, but he’ll always come when Y/N needs him, even if germs are involved.

Las Vegas Boy: Y/N surprises Spencer at their joint Bachelor/Bachelorette Party with a song she’s been working on.

band-aids don’t fix bullet holes, but your kisses do: in a standoff with an unsub, reader makes a choice: her life or spencer’s. (Angst/Fluff) french toast waffle sundays: coming home to reader from a stressful case, spencer needs a little reassurance that he’s as wonderful as reader thinks he is. (Angstish Comfort) open me carefully: reader finds her hopelessly in love with spencer, who unfortunately for them is hopeless when it comes to love. (Angst/Fluff) the moment i knew my future was sweet: spencer plans a surprise birthday party for reader, who comes to the realization that spencer is the one who’s always been there for her (Angst/Fluff) crawl home to her: The only thing that’s keeping spencer alive is the memories of his heaven. maybe someone how a faithless man will escape death’s grasp on faith alone. (Angst) you die in my nightmares, but i’m dying to dance with you in my dreams: tired of being tired, reader takes leap instead of counting sheep :) (Angst, Comfort

fools in love: He can explain how String Theory works. He can figure out Riemann Hypothesis. He can recite all the numbers of pi until he’s blue in the face. Yet somehow, Spencer Reid can’t figure out what to do for his first first anniversary.

and i will hold on to you: They’ve never been apart for holidays since they started dating. That was until Spencer Reid found himself behind bars for a crime he’d never think of committing. Growing and healing, Spencer realizes that it’s not the holidays that matter, it’s the person. Because with that special person, who’s laugh he can recognize anywhere, even cleaning up the empty bottle the next morning is magical. (Can be read as a part 2 to take my hand and drag me head first)

though i can’t recall your face, i still got love for you: Spencer’s always been ambivalent about his birthday, but self proclaimed lover of birthday’s Y/N attempts to change that.

I Can’t Say Anything to Your Face: Lunchtime is Spencer Reid’s favorite time of day and not because of the crappy endless coffee, dry sandwiches, or the occasional chocolate donut. Spencer’s favorite time of day comes in the shape of a little post it notes and fits perfectly into his heart.

Right Where You Left Me: Y/N never expected to see him again. He tore her heart out and left her in the dusty heat of a Las Vegas diner. She never wanted to see him again, but sometimes the heart wants what heart wants.

Don’t Thank Me For Loving You: Spencer and Reader have been dating for a total of 4 weeks. If someone asked, Spencer would be able to tell them the exact amount of time he’s been in love with Y/N. So why does he get so nervous to share a bed?

is this gonna be graded?: Y/N’s last assignment is simple, write down everything that you’d want to try. The options are endless and that just might be the end of her. (Smut; MINORS DNI) you can hear it in the silence: Sneaking around can be fun, but sometimes the silence is just too quiet, or falling in love with your best friend. Worship This Love: Y/N doesn’t think she can get jealous easily. She knows that Spencer is almost as head over heel for her as she is for him. But still, seeing the pretty detective grab Spencer by the tie is enough to send her into a jealous stupor.

It’s a Love Story, Baby: Secret relationships can be fun, but sometimes the love runs so deep that it’s just begging to get the spotlight. Love like that is difficult, but it’s the realest thing Spencer and Y/N have ever felt. The Doctor Is In: Reader knows that they shouldn’t have dairy, but it’s hard to resist the creamy sweetness, especially when an equally sweet husband wants to have a relaxing vacation.

3 Fics, 2 Authors, 1 Week!: This is the link to @shemarmooresfedora & my masterlist for our 500 followers co-celebration! Be sure to check out her amazing fics!!

#masterlist #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction

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qyllenhaal · 3 years

Text

Good Wives Club [2]

Lee Bodecker x Reader. 3rd POV. Word Count: 4.2k.

Spin-off to American Pie

Chapter One || Chapter Three

Summary: It's been more than a year since she's escaped the ghost of her past but life is never fair to a girl like her. Lee doesn't care that she has a husband, a nice house, and sugary fake friends, he wants what's rightfully his.

Warnings (series): Cheating, smut, violence, housewife kink, period-typical misogyny, age gap (about a ten year difference), manipulation, dark themes all around.

A/N: If anyone wants to be added to future tag list just let me know!

Y/n woke up at 5am with a dry mouth and her head spinning. Her night has been plagued with restlessness and she couldn't stay still. When she did fall asleep, it was for small periods of time. Each time she woke up she was not aware of where she was for the first five seconds, panic almost setting in before she registered the sound of her husband snoring.

The end of her irregular sleep cycle ended because she saw the hallway light was on. She sighed when realized it must be time for her husband to get ready for work. She virtually got no sleep and she'll probably be tired for the rest of the day.

She gets up from their creaky bed and starts walking down the hallway. It takes a while for her eyes to adjust to the brightness as she slowly plods down the hallway. She follows the light to the bathroom where she can hear her husband getting ready for work. On the days he goes in this early Y/n is relieved that she doesn't have to get up and cook breakfast for him.

The door is cracked but she opens it to find him inside. She situates herself in the doorway, watching him shave his face through the mirror.

"Good morning," he spoke with a scratchy voice. Even though Y/n didn't marry Llewellyn for love, she's still attracted to him and likes his company most of the time. She feels an ache inside of her that wants him to take her, but after running into Lee last night she's afraid she won't be able to get Lee's face out of her mind while beneath her husband.

"Good morning. Going in early?"

"Yep. Dad wants to do inventory today since he put it off last week."

"Oh okay," she accepts quietly, ready to leave her husband alone so he can get ready in peace.

However he asks her a surprising question, "hey, did you enjoy last night?"

"Uh, it was fine I guess. Did you?" Her hope is that he at least enjoyed himself somewhat.

"You know I don't like that super fancy stuff like that, but I have to eat crow; it wasn't all that bad and Bodecker's not as bad as I thought. He's kind of a funny guy. I still think he's not as hard on crime like everyone claims he is, but personally, he's not that bad. Florence was nice too. She invited us to dinner on Wednesday night, apparently that's the only night Lee has off. I told her we'd be able to join them."

The turn of events was shocking. Y/n couldn't believe her ears and she thought maybe she indeed was still asleep. Lou was not fond of many people and his only "friends" were his two brothers so him warming up to Lee and Florence left her speechless. So speechless that she didn't register the fact that he accepted a dinner invite for them.

"What?"

"What do you mean ‘what’? You dragged me to that dinner last night and wanted me to be nice, and now you're confused when I do just that?"

"I-I'm not confused...just shocked," she admits truthfully, "I can't believe you want to go to someone’s house who isn't your mother house for dinner —are you sure you want to go?"

"We're going Y/n."

His tone of voice indicates that the conversation is done and over with and the decision has been made. Y/n didn't even get to contest his decision but Lou can tell when Y/n is in a defiant mood. Her folding her arms and walking away was confirmation for him. She stalks her way back to the bedroom where she takes to hiding under the covers.

Lee and Lou under the same roof — it makes her stomach churn just to think about it. They're wildly different from each other but the thing she hates about them is what they have in common.

All she can hope is that this nightmare ends and she wakes back up to a life without Lee's ghost lingering around.

She decided to go with a floral dress again. She really wanted to take out the checkerboard dress that made her legs look good and showed off her arms, but Lou would have made her change before she had the chance to step out of the house. The floral print is dizzying, but it's the kind of dress that Lou likes to see her wear.

It's just a small dinner at the Bodecker's house but Y/n opts for kitten heels instead of sensible flats. She feels obligated to look her best despite there being less people to dress for. She's never been alone with Florence save for that day at the grocery store. Florence is always dressed to the 10's and Y/n needs to look just as good, if not better. She claims to hate Lee, but it would be so satisfying if she caught Lee ogling her breasts.

"Are you ready?"

Y/n thought Lou was too dressed up for a home dinner of four. He wore a pinstriped suit and those nice leather shoes he bought himself around the holidays.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she sighs in an attempt to let off some steam.

It was a shorter drive than Y/n expected. Florence hadn't disclosed where she lived before, but Brewer Heights wasn't that for them to live at a distance. The sun was nearly dipped over the horizon and the remaining light that hits their house makes it look like a model home. Everything little aspect and detail Y/n was going to compare herself too. She lives in a nice house, but Florence lives in a nicer house. It tears her up knowing she has the ultimate upper hand over Florence in the form of her own husband and she can't even act upon it. She would royally fuck up her life and their lives too if she decide to let her jealousy get the best of her.

As she walks up their stairs as another man's wife, she accepts that she is jealous. She's always been jealous of Florence even when she didn't know her name. What made her so worthy of all of these things? Lee used to act like he hates the woman so she must be a bitch behind closed doors. It wouldn't be surprising if she is because most people in this town will smile in your face and then gossip about you a minute later.

Lou knocks on the door and only a second later Florence is opening the door with a big smile on her face and Lee right next to her. He wore his police uniform without the jacket while Florence looked like a Lilly Pulitzer catalog girl.

It only took one millisecond of their eyes locking together for Y/n to feel the electricity between her and Lee. She drags her eyes away from his, but she can bet that he has a smirk on her face. He always liked to see her squirm; in a good and bad way.

"Y/n, Llewellyn! I'm so glad you could make it! Why don't you come on in," Florence steps to the side, nudging Lee over with her, to make way for Y/n and her husband.

Her eyes scan over every inch of their house. It's warm, cozy, and oddly comforting. Everything little thing was in its place; perfectly dusted and polished. Y/n is sure that Lee had no hand in decorating this place, it screams Florence through and through.

"Dinner is almost ready. I started the scalloped potatoes a little too late, but it should be done soon! Y/n, do you want to help me set the table?"

Y/n didn't want to leave her husband alone with Lee, but she also didn't want to be in the room with just them. She nods at Florence and follows behind her to their kitchen.

The house smells like Lou's parent's house on holidays. Y/n's stomach rumbles and she doesn't realize how hungry she was. She despises herself for wanting Florence's cooking, but she barely ate today because of how nervous she was.

"I already laid out the place mates, you can place the plates and silverware."

Y/n picks up the expensive dining ware that Florence points towards. She wonders if Florence cooks like this all the time, even when Lee works well into the night.

The walls of their dining room have an awful floral pattern. Y/n is beginning to become sick at the sight of anything that pertains to flowers. The cedar table is perfect for accommodating guests and Y/n wonders how many dinner parties they had in this room. Florence seems to put a lot of stock into being a good hostess. Y/n herself has yet to throw a dinner party at her home, but setting the plates on someone else's dining room table feels like practice. She silently imagines her house filled with Lou's family as she cooks dinner for them.

Florence enters the room and starts placing the dishes in the middle of the table. Her presence takes Y/n out of her fantasy, and when she sees how Florence made a 3-course-meal she feels worse.

"Does the food look good? I tried some new recipes from Julia Child's cookbook to try to impress you and Llewellyn," she admits, "I wasn't sure what you two would like, but Lee loves when I make those recipes from Julia Child and I bet Llewellyn would love it too! I could lend you the book some time!"

"Of course. I love her work!" Y/n lies straight through her teeth. She has no clue who the hell Julia Child is.

Florence grabs one last thing before calling the husbands into the dining room. She places one beer on the coasters designated for Lee and Lou. Lou has never been much of a drinker, but she knows that Lee can knock down a few beers in one sitting. He might be on his best behavior tonight in front of his wife and company.

"Dinner's ready!" Florence called out.

Y/n took her seat on the right side of the table and Florence sat opposite of her. Their husbands come walking in laughing as if they were young boys sneaking back into the house during a family get together. Y/n doesn't like it; she doesn't like it at all. They look too cheery with each other and she knows that Lee is doing it on purpose — she can see it in his eyes when he quickly glances at her. He takes pride in making her uncomfortable. Y/n wishes she had that same affect on him to scare him off a bit, but no matter how chummy she gets with Florence, Lee looks unbothered.

Florence stands up from her seat as if she's presenting the food on the table to an audience. Everything is placed perfectly with the main dish being the middle of the smaller plates.

"This looks great honey, you made a whole feast," Lee walked up to Florence's side and kissed on the cheek. Y/n's eyes are trained on his hand snaking around her waist and giving her a light squeeze before letting go. When she pulls her eyes away from his hands, she sees that Florence almost looks shocked at her husband's affection; Lee is definitely putting on a show for Y/n and it's a damn good one.

Lee sits opposite of Lou and the first thing he does is open his beer. The food isn't even on plates anymore and he's drinking.

"I hope you like Schmidt's, Llewellyn. Lee loves it so it's all we have in the house."

"I'm not one to drink beer often, but I'll try it. And call me Lou, Florence."

Lou was acting out of his normal character. Him only interacting with his family and Y/n left him a bit awkward in the presence of others, but around Florence and Lee he seems to be much...warmer. If Lee was someone else then Y/n would be over the moon, but because it's him she can't even force herself to even look happy about it.

Y/n takes note of how Florence places portions of food on Lee's plate. They were small portions too. She was always strict about what he ate and how much he drank. She's surprised Florence is letting him drink tonight, but she must be trying to look nicer in front of guests.

Y/n was not as controlling as Florence. She always let Lou fix his plate to his liking. She thought it made her a good wife for letting her husband make his own decisions. But Y/n felt a tap on her shoulder after she finished making her own plate. He looked down at his empty plate before looking back at her and nodded towards the food.

"Y/n," he tries to whisper but his tone is rather harsh.

"What?" She whispers back in true confusion.

"My plate."

He looked at her as if she was crazy, as if it was a common occurrence for her to fix his plate. She starts to scramble to save herself from further embarrassment, the sound of silverware against plates so loud. She can feel the stares coming from the other side of the table but she doesn't dare look up.

Her skin began to grow hot. Her husband had embarrassed her in front of Lee and Florence. The worst part was when Florence tried to change the subject to something lighthearted to pull the attention off of Y/n. She felt small and useless. Lou never expected her to fix his plate, but he looked at her as if she was crazy for not doing so. She didn't want to spend dinner almost in tears. This changed behavior in her husband is giving her whiplash and making her dizzy.

"So, Y/n, did you enjoy the other night?"

"It was really nice Florence," she replies sheepishly.

"Susie and I put so much work into planning it. You should join us next time! We're going to start working on the fundraising events for Lee's next campaign-"

"Let's not talk about that tonight Florence," Lee interrupts. It was a moment that would've left Y/n embarrassed if she was in Florence's shoes but Florence was much better at masking her emotions. Only for a split second can Y/n see Florence flinch at his interjection before she just smiles.

"Sorry Lee, you know how excited I get about those things," she masks her apology in a cheery voice.

Dinner basically became a probe of Y/n and Lou's relationship. Florence wanted to know how they met, when they got married, how long they had been together, and what their future plans together were. Y/n let Lou answer the last question by herself because she genuinely didn't know what their future plans were. Lou usually wakes up and decides what major life change they're going to undertake, that's what happened when he decided to move to Brewer Heights.

When the topic of work came up, Y/n thought the coast was clear. Lou talked extensively about the work he does with his father and what his plan is for the next five years regarding the business.

"Once my father retires I'll have to hire someone to do his job. I didn’t go study in school after high school so I can't take over his position, even though it would make things easier."

"I'm sure you can find someone. I know it's rare for someone to leave the city and come to this little town, but Brewer Heights is always a nice incentive!"

"It is nice here," Lou agrees, "and it's quiet. We were in Meade before which is okay-"

"But, it's nothing like Brewer Heights," Florence interjects. "So, Y/n, what did you do before meeting Lou?"

Lee had not looked her way since the plate-fixing incident but his eyes were sure on her now. If his mouth wasn't stuffed with food he'd be grinning from ear to ear waiting for her answer. He knows she's not a good liar, but she's going to have to come up with something.

"I helped my mom with her business. She used to sell fruit preserves out of the house before she passed."

It wasn't a complete lie. She did help her mother label her jars, but that became less frequent when her hours picked up at Tecumseh. Her parents didn't know about her job either; she told them she was a waitress and it was a safe lie seeing as they didn't go out to diners.

"I'm sorry for your loss, I'm sure she was a lovely woman if she raised such a lovely daughter! Have you ever thought of continuing her business?"

"Not really. It was pretty small. I still make the preserves sometimes for Lou and I."

"If you wouldn't mind, would you be interested in making some for us one day? You don't have to if you don't want to, but it's just so hard to find any good fruit preserves around town." Florence's social habits were very transparent once you were around her for long; she tends to make it impossible for people to say no to her by making them feel bad about even possibly saying no.

"I'd love to Florence. I have fresh peaches at home and I can make peach preserves."

"Oh I'd love that so much," she fawns, "a jar for me and a jar for Lee! He loves his sweets."

"I'm not too big on peaches, Flo. You know I like cherries more."

"You always have," she leans into him and pats him on the chest before straightening up again.

The audacity of Lee is astounding, however not only is he a cop, he's the sheriff. It's such a cowardly move to pick at Y/n when she can't react, but what someone would call cowardly, he'd call fun. She looks like she wants to disappear from her spot and it scratches an itch for him. He missed seeing her get flustered and if he'd known that it would be much more enjoyable to taunt her while his wife was around, he would have found a reason a long time ago to bring her around.

And as if the night couldn't be more humiliating for her, Lou finished his plate before anyone else. He devoured the food on his plate, like a starved man. Y/n felt embarrassed when her husband went for seconds. He never eats this much at home, even when she makes his favorite meals. It makes her want to reach across the dinner table and smack Florence in the face. She hates her; she hates that she has to smile in her face and be friends with her. It's her own fault for continuing this "friendship" with Florence, but her rage makes her blind to her own faults.

She could ruin Florence's life with one sentence: "I've been fucking your husband for years." She'd cause a scene but it would be so gratifying.

Instead she just shuts her mouth and lets dinner continue without anymore incidents.

Y/n thought it would show she was grateful for dinner if she helped Florence with the dishes. She was glad to accept Y/n's help and the two spent their time in the kitchen while Lee and Lou sat on the back porch. With Lee's influence, Lou took another drink out back with him. Y/n wondered what they had to talk about, but she would truly not like to know.

"Your wife cooks like that every night, sheriff?"

"Enough with the title. And she cooks every night, but she went a little overboard since she was happy with having guests," he tells him. If it was anybody else, Lee would just answer the questions and not have any for himself. However, he really wants to know what Y/n has been up to since she's adopted this new image. "How about Y/n? Does she cook for you like that?"

"Not at all. She tries, but she's not the good of a cook," he brings the alcohol up to his lips before pulling away and sighing, "she tries but it's just not her best."

"Her mother didn't teach her how to cook?"

"I don't know much about her family. Her mother was dead when I met her and her father doesn't seem to be doing so well. They're from the same area as my folks but moved when they had Y/n. Maybe she was just too spoiled considering she's an only child."

Y/n's past was a mystery to Lee too, but he's surprised to learn she hasn't opened up to her husband. All he knows is that whether it was her home life or not, something had messed her up and it was almost made worse by her time at Tecumseh. He isn't sure how she made it out, but so much of her old life still bleeds through.

"You know I thought I was getting a good girl. One that would clean and have dinner ready when I get home," Lou continued.

Lee wanted to laugh in his face. Lou is proof that you can come from a smart family and still be dumb as rocks. How could he not know what type of girl Y/n was when he first laid eyes on her? She'd dress just like his sister Sandy; shorts that suffered from mistreatment over the years and a sleeveless blouse that was always stained. He's sure her hair was mussed up that day too. Many people would mistake her for a whore (which many people did see her as one even though she didn't outright sell her body to anyone).

"It can't be that bad," Lee tried to vouch for his former lover. Even he can name some good qualities about her; they just don't include any wifely qualities.

"It's not, but things could be better. Anytime I tell her to shape-up she gets this timid look on her face and flinches a little bit. I try to be nice and gentle but I'm losing my patience with her. I’m not looking to leave her, but what’s the point of marrying a woman who can’t do anything? She won’t even talk to me about having kids — was Florence ever like this?”

“No. Her family is from here so she’s been primed to be a housewife. But I will say it’s not all that fun havin’ a doting wife…she’s overbearing at times and I can never unwind with her around. She’s always on my ass about somethin’.”

Lee felt the need to vouch for Y/n. Anytime he would go to Tecumseh, she would accompany out back or get into his cruiser whenever he told her to. All the gritty things he dealt with at work, everything he kept inside, he dumped it on her. Florence would never sit there to listen to his grievances. Lee would never admit it, but he was vulnerable around Y/n, he knew that she would always be there to listen and he attached himself to that. In the beginning she wasn’t willingly listening to his problems but by the end she was. She took care of him when he was too drunk to go home, or she would let him take his stress and frustration out on her body. However, it doesn’t seem as if Lou is budging; his mind is made up.

“I work long hours. My father is putting more responsibilities on me. I put Y/n in that nice home, the least she could do is not serve me burnt food. Hangin’ around Florence and that Susie woman should have at least influenced her or something,” he continued to complain.

Florence was the last person that would be able to influence a girl like Y/n. Lee didn't know why his wife was seemingly grooming that girl. If anything it was just another person for her to control since Lee started telling her to knock it off. The only time she can get away with controlling her husband is if they're in the company of others where Lee has to be on his best behavior.

Y/n is not the type to be influenced by another woman. The only woman she held in high regard was her mother. Y/n listens to male authority. She listens to a man that will rough her up a little bit but then be sweet on her afterwards. She’s a little fucked up and jaded from her former “profession.” Lee knows this, but not Lou. He seems to know nothing of her past and Lee isn’t going to snitch on her.

“I can talk to Florence and see if she can do something. I know she likes taking people under her wing and shit. She seems to really like Y/n too.”

“I’d greatly appreciate that Lee. I know I sound like I’m hard on her, but I do love her. It’s hard for me to show when she just doesn’t put any effort in.”

"Don't worry. I'll talk to Florence — I'll make everything right."

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x oc #lee bodecker fic #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x ofc #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker smut #the devil all the time #dark fic #fic #sebastian stan

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helliontherapscallion · 3 years

Text

Yellow Carnations (Destiny Written in Begonias Part 1)

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Summary: After hearing something deep within the woods, you give into curiosity and investigate. Who knows, whatever you find could be a prize.

Warnings: Swearing, slightly graphic violence (just some zombies getting dismembered)

Word count: 3,715

(A/N): So, welcome to my new series! I have so many ideas for this that I’d love to write. This story will be very gay, fluffy, and sorta angsty, so buckle up my children!

So just a lil background info: the reader is Techno’s adopted daughter. She is a piglin hybrid, but she is more human looking than piglin. This takes place about eighteen years after the most recent events of the SMP.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“Techno, I think we have enough ender pearls for tonight.” You glanced to your side to look at your father and Philza, the enchantments of their armor glowing dimly in the moonlight and the orange light of the torches in their hands. Philza stretched his body and his wings out, a small groan escaping his mouth and small cracks sounding from his joints.

“The night’s still young, Phil!” Technoblade grinned, his gold capped canines glinting slightly. His hand moved to gently rest on the handle of his sword.

You snorted to yourself, “you two, however, aren’t.” A small shove came from your side making you stumble slightly, laughter bubbling from your throat.

“I’m just going to pretend that I didn’t hear anything,” Philza crossed his arms and looked off to the side. Though, you could hear a smile in his tone and the beginnings of a chuckle.

“I’m sorry,” you chuckled, “Dad set me up for that one. The opportunity was too good to pass up.”

“I’ll set you up for longer training sessions if you keep going for… ‘opportunities’ like that.” He glanced down at you with amusement glinting in his eyes and tugging at the corner of his lips.

His statement, though lighthearted, immediately made you stop laughing. You knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t joking; the last time you laughed it off you had to endure two extra hours on top of the four hour sessions you had daily. By the end of the punishment, your arms felt like they were going to fall off.

“No! I take it back, you guys are young! Not a single-”

“You’re digging yourself an early grave if you finish that sentence, kid. Besides, you can’t pass up opportunities like these!”

“I think I’m good for now,” you shivered slightly when a breeze blew past you. It was starting to grow colder as the night dragged on. Technoblade, noticing this, wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to him securely. Though the Blood God never shows mercy, he couldn’t let his only child succumb to a head cold; that’d just be barbaric.

You jumped at the feeling of the freezing netherite making contact with your bare arm. “Sorry,” he murmured sheepishly, “forgot how cold the armor is… We should probably head back, it’s getting cold.”

As your family started to make their way back towards the tundra, banter was exchanged between the three. The journey out of the forest was uneventful, only a few mobs had attempted to attack or sneak behind you. Just as you reached the edge of the forest, a noise caught your attention.

It sounded like it was only a couple of minutes away; so faint that if you weren’t actively listening for it, it would have nearly been lost in the night. If you strained your ears, you could hear the trampling of dry leaves making you assume that there were several people or animals in that area. Alongside it, there was a faint whimpering.

Your curiosity was piqued, just what was making that noise?

“(Y/n), is everything alright?” You looked back at Philza. It seemed that they walked a bit away from you while you stopped at the forest’s edge to listen to the sound.

You absentmindedly nodded, “yeah, Uncle Phil. I think I left my bow back in that clearing when we were taking a break so I’m just going to go grab that. You guys can keep going home, I’ll be right behind you.”

“We can go with you-”

“No, you don’t have to. I’m old enough to go alone.”

Philza and Technoblade then spoke at the same time, “alright, we’ll just meet you there.” “Absolutely not.”

Philza elbowed Technoblade’s side lightly and looked up at him. They were silently communicating with pointed looks and pursed lips, every expression understood completely by the other. You never understood how they did that, even if they raised you. You could remember making a journal dedicated to deciphering their expressions, but you never could truly understand it (that, and ‘nose scrunch and eye narrow’ meant multiple things).

Eventually, Technoblade’s shoulders slumped and he ran a hand down his face tiredly, “you know the rules?”

You rolled your eyes, “of course I do. Fight to win, go for the throat, if you lose your weapon go for the pressure points. You remind me daily.”

He stared at you for a moment before his ear flicked, “don’t take long, we’ll be waiting.” They both turned and started to trudge towards the spruce forest in the distance.

Without a second thought, you ran into the forest with your ears perked. Following the noise was easy, the whimpers had turned into high pitched whines. You leapt over stumps and ducked under low hanging branches as they blocked your way; nothing was going to stop you from finding out what was making that noise.

Eventually, you broke through the trees and found yourself in a grassy clearing surrounded by large stones. If it were spring, you’d imagine wildflowers sprouting everywhere you stepped. A small spring sat in the furthest corner of it, waterfalls cascading over the jagged stones and crashing into the water below. Near the cliffside, a hoard of groaning zombies swarmed something and they were closing in on it. Now, what was it they were attacking?

You quickly unsheathed your golden sword and sprinted towards the hoard. The crunching of the dried, colorful leaves under your feet was enough to drag the zombies’ attention to you.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you made your first swipe at one of their torsos. In an instant, the zombie was bisected and fell to the ground. With a twirl, you slashed at multiple zombies at once. They all collapsed to the ground as their rotting flesh was torn and couldn’t support their crumbling bodies any longer.

As soon as all of the zombies were laying dead on the ground, you wiped your blade off on one of their torn tunics and sheathed it. Taking a step back to look at the bodies littered on the floor, you smirked; this was too easy.

Now, without the obstacles, your prize awaits you. Eagerly, you looked over to see what the zombies were swarming. Instead of the scared villager you were expecting, the person that stood there completely took your breath away.

The woman was wearing a simple white dress with a baby blue shawl shadowing the upper part of her face. Her skin was fair and her face was round, a button nose laid in the center of her face and plump pink lips slightly parted showing off straight white teeth. Curly dark brown hair framed the sides of her face and spiraled down to rest on her shoulders.

She was tall for a human, about five-foot-ten if you were to estimate. Her hands moved to clasp in front of her elegantly, your eyes catching sight of light blue nailpolish decorating her perfectly shaped nails.

Red was starting to dust her cheeks and her breathing was starting to return to normal. That was good, at least she wasn’t going into shock. For someone who nearly got eaten alive by the undead, she looked relatively calm and well put together.

“Are you alright?” You tried to keep your voice even, but there was a light wobble to it. You thickly swallowed, cursing yourself for showing any emotion in front of this stranger. The mask that hid the upper part of your face gave you a sense of security and safety, it hid most of your emotion.

You saw her lips move, but no sound came out. Were you going deaf like your father? You shouldn’t be; you haven’t blown up an entire nation yet. You stepped closer in hopes of hearing her better, “excuse me?”

Her lips curled up into a smile, dimples appearing on her cheeks, “Oh, I just said that I’m fine, nothing else. May I get the name of my knight in shining armor?”

Her voice was soft and light. Though it was on the deeper side, it had feminine, euphonious undertones; it was like honey was dripping out with every word she spoke. Just by the way she spoke, you assumed that she came from the nearby kingdom.

You smirked, playing along with the small game she was setting up. Stepping closer and kneeling, you grabbed her hand and brought it to your lips. Her hands were soft and velvety, a part of you longed to hold it in yours all day long.

Against her knuckles, you spoke, “(Y/n) Blade at your service. And you, my fairest lady?”

“Princess Helen Dahlia Eret, but please, call me Dahlia; Helen was my mother. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

You snorted, she was really dedicated to this game. You’d just play along with her, why not? It’s not like you have anything else to do. “Well, princess, it’s about time for you to head back to your castle.”

You looked up at her through your eyelashes and caught sight of the outline of her shadowed features. You could see her purse her lips, “you think I’m lying, don’t you?”

“Forgive me for thinking so, your highness!” You snickered, “the princess shall not step foot outside of her chambers, lest a scrape shall mar her flawless skin!”

She smirked before placing a delicate finger underneath your chin, tilting it upwards. You could feel your face grow hot as she removed her shawl. Ivory white eyes stared back at you smugly, sending a shock through your body. You weren’t sure if the jolt you felt was from her beauty or from the fact that she wasn’t lying.

“Would you like to try again, my knight?” She cooed to you, her other hand coming down to rest on your cheek. You stood up and gaped at her, “oh fuck, you’re actually the princess.”

A part of you wanted to dislike her for her title and for the royal blood that coursed through her veins. That blood tainted her, filling every nook and cranny with vile corruption. “All governments are bad,” Technoblade had taught you early on in your life, “they should, under no circumstances, be trusted.”

Though her parent Eret had been a fair king, always attending to the needs of their people, you were anticipating their corruption. If your memory serves you right, they were the one that betrayed the revolutionaries during the L’manberg Revolution simply because of their thirst for power. If they were a power hungry traitor before, who’s to say that they won’t be blinded by it again?

Every fiber in your body screamed at you to sink your sword through her abdomen to put her down, just like the bloodthirsty hounds that hailed long before her. You could just end her right now, make it quick and just leave her body here. It’d be easy and it would bring chaos to the SMP Kingdom, causing mass paranoia and tearing it apart from within. It’d be delicious, something that would give you a high you’d ride for years. You wanted to paint the grass with her blood, but something deep within you protested.

Filthy blood nourished her body, but that didn’t take away from her sheer and complete beauty or the way she covered her mouth with a delicate hand to hide her laugh. That did not take away from how she had cupped your cheek moments before, your skin still tingled where her hand was. That didn’t suppress the butterflies that fluttered wildly in your stomach when she stepped into the moonlight.

She put her hand out and smiled, “won’t you accompany me to my castle, my faithful warrior?” You merely put on a cold, uncaring facade and side stepped her.

“...You got yourself here, yes? You can find your way back.”

“Well you see,” she moved to rub the back of her neck and awkwardly chuckled, “I was hoping you know the way back?”

You couldn’t stop the snort that escaped your mouth, something about her made her irresistible. “You’ve got to be kidding me, you just ran blindly into a forest?”

“Hey, you would too if you were being chased by zombies!”

“Excuse me, who was the one that just slaughtered said zombies in under a minute?” You raised an eyebrow and looked down at her.

“I don’t have a sword like you do,” she crossed her arms over her chest and glared up at you.

“Even then, I doubt you know how to use one. Here,” you unsheathed the large sword and held it out to her, “I bet you can’t even hold it up.”

“Can too!” She protested before snatching the sword out of your hands. She grunted slightly at the heavy weight, almost dropping it, but she quickly steadied it. Looking up at you with a smug, slightly reddened face, she shook slightly. “See? It’s not that hard.”

You quirked an eyebrow beneath your mask, “oh really?”

“Y-yep,” was all she managed to choke out before she stepped back and dropped the tip. It swung down and buried itself inside the dirt below, scouring the earth as it made contact.

Smirking at her, you took it back with ease, putting it back into its sheath slung around your back. You once again stepped around her and started walking in the other direction.

“Where are you going?!”

“To the castle, you said you wanted me to take you home.”

She rushed to your side and grabbed your arm with both of her hands. They snaked around your bicep and tangled themselves in your cape. You could feel yourself soar at the contact; you had to fight against every instinct to hook your arm with hers. You ripped yourself out of her embrace and put some distance between the both of you.

She crossed her arms and hugged herself, shivering slightly, “how are you not cold?!”

“It’s barely cold out here,” you mentally scolded yourself for being a hypocrite, “you’ll be fine.”

She said nothing and continued to walk. As you got further and further into the forest, she merely started shivering more. You could hear her teeth chattering loudly and could see goosebumps decorating the skin on her bare arms. Sighing, you unhooked your cape and slung it over her shoulders.

She squeaked in surprise at the feeling before realizing that you gave her your cape. She grabbed the edges and pulled it closer to her before snuggling deeper into the cloth; you could feel your heart explode at the small sigh that she let out and the content hum that left her mouth. Just as she looked up at you, you made quick work of looking away. The ground was very fascinating at the moment.

“Thank you,” she murmured. You just curtly nodded, avoiding looking at her.

The walk to the castle was short, luckily she hadn’t run far from her home. Just as the castle walls were in your sights, she tried holding your arm again. Once again, you stepped away from her.

“C’mon,” she chuckled, “I don’t bite.”

“Well I do. You really need to learn not to trust a stranger, princess.”

“Well, we aren’t strangers. We know each other’s names, do we not? And besides, I bet you’re just a massive teddy bear.”

“I don’t know what your teddy bears looked like as a kid, but they certainly weren’t me. If I wanted to, I could take your hand clean off with a single twist and pull,” you growled out. She was silent once more as she led you towards a specific part of the castle.

“...Why are you so defensive? At least treat me like you did before we knew each other!” She unhooked the cape and shoved it towards you. You gladly took it and put it back on. To your sheer embarrassment, you felt joy as you caught a whiff of books and expensive perfume. It smelled like her.

“...I could’ve just left you back there if I wanted to, consider this a favor. Respect is earned, not given. Even to royalty.”

You turned to leave, you cape swishing behind you as you turned. Before you could walk off, a hand on your arm stopped you. “Wait. Even if you’re a massive jerk,” she sighed out, “I still have to thank you. So, thank you for saving my life; I’m indebted to you, my douchey knight.”

She leant up on the tips of her toes and gently placed her lips on your cheek. You froze and watched as she turned on her heel. She walked towards the entrance with several glances back at you, some of them being smug and others being questioning. It was like you were entranced underneath the veil of a spell, unable to move until she disappeared from sight.

The walk home was quiet with no mobs sneaking up on you. The entire time, the memory of her kissing your cheek replayed endlessly in your head. Though the very thing you disliked more than anything was embodied in her, you couldn’t help but fall for the natural charm she had. You were probably just tired, it was getting late into the night after all.

As you walked through the door, you could see Technoblade impatiently waiting for you on the couch. He had a book open in his hand and his half-rimmed glasses were perched on the bridge of his snout.

“You’re late.”

“Sorry, I just ran into more mobs than I anticipated.”

Technoblade said nothing as his eyes flickered over your body, looking for even the smallest of scrapes. When he didn’t find anything, he nodded to himself and stood up. Tiredly, he walked over to you and ruffled your hair before trudging to his room.

“Are you sure the only thing you ran into was mobs?”

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat, “just a lot of zombies.”

He rolled his eyes and gave you a knowing smile before walking over to you. He swiped his thumb across your cheek and showed it to you. It was stained with a light pink color. “In all of the centuries I spent living in this world, not once have I seen a zombie wearing pink lipstick or,” he took your cape in his hand and sniffed it slightly, “cherry scented perfume.”

Your face exploded in heat as you made hasty work of scrubbing your cheek making the older man laugh quietly at you, “all you’re doing is smudging it all over your face. Some warm water and soap will get it off fast… Now, wanna tell me who gave you that?”

You stared at his smug expression and quickly came to the realization that he wouldn’t let this go unless you told him. Or, at least until you told him what happened.

You sighed and started to remove your armor, placing it on the armor stand situated between Philza’s and Technoblade’s armor. You had insisted that the armor stands were in this specific order, it just made sense with the height differences between the members of the household. Since you were between Philza’s and Technoblade’s height at 6’4 (and still growing), it made sense with the order of the armor in terms of size.

You made your way over to the couch and sat down with a sigh, Philza following suit. He gave you a reassuring smile, “whenever you’re ready.”

So you told him everything that had happened that day. Needless to say, Philza was happy for you, asking you questions about the interaction.

“It sounds like she’s perfect for you, kiddo.”

“That’s the thing, Uncle Phil. She isn’t,” you ran a hand down your face and leaned back onto the back of the couch, your head resting on the top of the cushion. You heard Philza shift slightly before he grabbed your hand.

“Now,” he asked gently, “what makes you think that?”

“She’s King Eret’s daughter. Helen Dahlia Eret,” you sardonically chuckled, “I really thought she was just joking when she said ‘princess’.” Every part of you wished that that was a joke. That she would laugh and tell you that it was part of the game she was playing. But no, she just had to be royalty.

“Eret’s better than most, they are a good king,” he reminded you.

“Still, there’s royal blood in her. She’s actively a part of a government… I wanted to kill her on the spot; hell everything in my body was screaming at me to slaughter her, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.”

“Sometimes, someone is more than the blood inside of them; maybe she isn’t as bad as you think she is. Someone could be born into a family of saints and still destroy everything they touch. On the other hand, someone could be born surrounded by the lowest of humanity and grow up to become the best person you’ll ever meet. You have to understand that blood isn’t everything to a person’s character.”

You didn’t say anything, contemplating what he said. She didn’t seem like someone to rule with an iron fist, and neither did her parent. Tubbo was the first person to come to mind. He was raised by a malicious, tyrannical idiot, a man that had valued absolute power and booze over anything else. Your uncle turned out to be the most caring person you’ve ever met, always making sure that those around him are in a good mood even if he himself wasn’t.

However, it’s best to be cautious of somebody. Your mind flashed back to Wilbur and Dream, the two men rotting away in Pandora’s Vault together until either their time alive is up or time itself expires. They were charismatic and kind on the outside, but on the inside, they are two of the most heinous men you’ve ever met.

It seemed like your mind was running in circles, bouncing between both conclusions like it was being slammed between two surfaces.

“...Do you think you’ll see her again?” Philza asked you, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles and squeezing it comfortingly when you didn’t respond immediately.

You sighed, standing up and walking out of the room, “if the odds are in our favor, we won’t see each other any time soon.”

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

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Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):

#philza x reader #technoblade x reader #mcyt x reader #dream smp x reader #destiny written in begonias #female reader #x reader #wlw reader #tw: swearing #tw: violence

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bvidzsoo · 3 years

Text

White Lilies

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x female reader

Warning: swearing, violence, mentions of death, stalking, breaking in, borderline toxic relationship, allude to some mental health conditions but never named

Word count: 26, 815

Summary: Your brother, Kim Doyoung, works for the police. Ever since you finished high school, you moved away from home with him and now you live in a big city. You struggle with different things, but the worst one is the tendency to stalk others. And one day when you walk inside a coffee shop and come across a very handsome stranger, you can’t help yourself, he becomes your next target. Jeon Wonwoo. But he isn’t innocent, you find that out the hard way.

Taglist: @chal-kagyu @taeyongandfree @minkwans @itsdnguyenxoxo @rjsmochii

Unable to tag: @cheolliehugs @3rachaonlyfans @leahxxiong

A/N: Here it is! The spin off to Poison, it can be read as a stand alone, if not check out the mini-series: Poison. Minor things will make more sense. I hope it doesn’t bother you that I tagged you for this too, since it’s connected in some ways. Now, there’s things I have written in this oneshot that are totally not okay and I am very conscious of them, so please, if you ever come across a stalker or someone who harassess you, please report them, your safety is very important. But this is fiction, and I’m allowed to write whatever I want to. All the sentences in italics are the voices that Y/N hears. Enjoy now and don’t forget to leave feeback!

All mornings were usually the same, it was a routine I became accustomed to a long time again. Five years ago, actually, when Doyoung and I moved away from home. There is only a two-year difference between us, so it was easy for me to follow him, having been already done with high school. Doyoung completed the police academy and he was being promoted, brought to Seoul, so I packed up and left my old life in our hometown. Nothing tied me to that place, I never liked it there. My parents were hot headed and they always argued with me, trying to convince me to become a house wife, to find myself a wealthy man that would care for me and for our family. But it wasn’t what I needed; I had always been a free spirit. I liked to explore and disappear from civilization from time to time. Like in eleventh grade, when I sneaked out and disappeared for ten days, the whole city was looking for me. However, I was living in the woods, by the outskirts of the city, in a small hut with a nice, old lady. She moved there after she gave up her job, because she wanted a peaceful life, surrounded by nature only. When she saw me wandering around, she offered me some tea and I accepted it, surprised to see someone living there. The hut wasn’t deep inside the woods, but it still took me by surprise that a lady like her wasn’t afraid inside there all alone. I wasn’t a big fan of forests, but being surrounded by trees and the green scenery always calmed my erratic nature. It was hard for me to stay still sometimes, that’s why Doyoung and I would regularly go on runs, to try and use up my energy on something. In school, I didn’t do very well, but it didn’t bother me. I was able to finish high school and get a diploma, but I didn’t want to go to college. I found it a waste of time and money, I decided I would find something that I liked doing and would excel in it. And with the help of the old lady from the hut, I realized I had a passion for photography. I got my first camera from her, and ever since then I didn’t stop taking pictures. It became my passion and my hobby, it earned me money. I was known for taking nature pictures, sometimes even of animals, and I had my own little blog where I posted all of my works. Sometimes I’d have my pictures put up in galleries for expositions, I earned well during those events. The small house Doyoung and I lived in, was full of all the pictures I took. We lived in a homey, quiet neighborhood, deep inside the heart of the city. Doyoung earned well and my salary always fluctuated, that’s why I decided to stay with my big brother, at least until I had gathered enough money to live on my own.

The house smelled of bacon and peppermint tea as I opened the window of my room, letting the fresh morning air in. I was already dressed for the day, camera packed safely inside my bag, waiting for a call. I wore dark velvet cotton pants and an oversized grey sweater with a deep V, due to which it fell off my shoulders. Ankle high heel boots and a few necklaces I used as accessories complimented the look. It was becoming warmer and warmer outside, which was great, because I never liked wearing coats. Besides, I rarely needed them, I had the unusual trait of not exactly feeling the cold. I was always underdressed during winter and it scared some people, especially Doyoung because he had the impression that I’d catch a cold, but it’s just how my body was, always too hot. I checked my phone to be sure that Mark didn’t decide to text me instead of calling me, but seeing there was nothing, I closed the window and took my bag, leaving my room. I closed the door after me, a habit I had, and headed inside the kitchen. Doyoung was in his police uniform already, moving around quietly the kitchen.

“Good morning!” I called loudly, sitting at the table, with my chin in my hand.

“Good morning.” Doyoung greeted, quieter, and turned around with a plate and mug in his hands. He placed them in front of me and I grinned, thanking him. I took the fork and dug into my breakfast, humming at how tasty it was. Even if our mornings were always the same, the breakfast wasn’t. Doyoung always had something up his sleeves, either trying out new recipes he searched up late at night, or just trying to replicate mother’s old recipes. I took a sip of the peppermint tea and pursed my lips, giving Doyoung a thumbs up as he closed the stove and turned to sit with his own plate and mug in his hands. He chuckled and mirror my thumbs up, before starting to eat too. We ate in silence, it’s how we were in the mornings, quiet. It was the only time Doyoung could savor the silence, because it was the only time I was silent. My hyperactivity followed me through all stages of life, I still struggled with staying still…that amongst other things.

Doyoung cleared his throat and I glanced at him, before checking my phone again, “What are your plans for today?”

“Ah, the usual.” I answered with a smile, trying to look nonchalant, so that he wouldn’t realize I was lying, “I’ll just go to the park and take some pictures if I find something I like.”

Doyoung nodded and took a bite of his bacon, “Don’t you think it’s time to…find a more stable work?”

“Like what?”

“Getting employed at a studio, maybe? You know…you could go to weddings, birthdays…all kinds of events to take pictures.” Doyoung’s suggestion was friendly, but it still angered me. I left home because I didn’t want to hear the constant nagging of our parents, but here he was, doing the same thing.

“I’m a nature photographer. And I wouldn’t like working inside a studio, or whatever.” I said a little harshly, making Doyoung sigh.

“I’m not judging you or trying to tell you what to do,” He knew how I could react to these things, he knew how much anxiety my parents induced when they would try and tell me what to do with my own life, “It was just a brotherly advice, because I worry about you.”

“You don’t have to!” I exclaimed cheerily, my phone ringing at the same time. I shot my hand out to grab it and answered the phone, already knowing who the caller was.

“Target is getting ready to leave, he’ll be at the same Coffee Shop he was for the past week.” Was all the person said before I hung up, stuffing the rest of the food inside my mouth hurriedly. I scrambled up from the chair and clumsily threw my phone inside my bag, trying to chug down the peppermint tea at the same time.

“Who was that?”

“Just some person trying to sell me something—” A burp I couldn’t control surfaced and Doyoung’s eyebrows furrowed in displeasure, but I just gave him an apologetic smile, “I’ll see you after work.”

I pressed a hasty kiss against his cheek, then raced to my car and unlocked it, throwing my bag inside before getting in. I would have to get to the Coffee Shop before the target gets there, to choose a good spot. This is what Doyoung didn’t know about me. I wasn’t just a nature photographer, I worked together with his colleague, Mark, whose job was to gather information about the targets the police had. He was really good at it, but sometimes he couldn’t gather enough information by sitting behind a computer. That’s where I come in play, I go out and stalk his targets. A year ago, Doyoung had a gathering with the colleagues he was closer to and I was invited too. Mark got really drunk and I offered to drive him home, that’s when he started telling me about his work. About how he already almost got fired twice, because his information wasn’t good enough or it was lacking. And because I was always seeking new experiences and new adventures, I proposed to help him. Of course, he’d have to pay me, but I’d stalk the targets for as long as he’d need me to. Until all information that was needed was gathered for him, which he could turn into a report and pass onto the higherups. He accepted without a second thought in his drunken haze and I was beyond happy; but I asked him to keep it a secret, especially from Doyoung. If my brother were to find out, he’d definitely either lock me up in our basement or send me back home, both were things I wouldn’t be able to survive. And being in this city was good for me, it was big enough that it distracted me from my other issues. Back in my hometown, everyone knew almost everyone and it was too easy to find someone you wanted to know. Which was bad for me, bad for someone who had stalking tendencies. That’s why I have been working with Mark for a year now, I was just too good, no one ever discovered me or my identity. I knew how to stay low-key and I knew how to work around the targets without them noticing that someone was trailing them almost 24/7. Having this job, it distracted me from getting infatuated with anyone, I didn’t have the time anymore. And it was a lot more thrilling to be trailing different people each month. It was a distraction from the dark voices in my head, which tried telling me that the next man that appeared around the corner could have been the love of my life. Or the woman that I ran into at the flower shop, could have been my soulmate. I hated those thoughts, and I battled with them my whole life. I used to take medication, it silenced them while I was a teen, but it still didn’t stop me from stalking others. So, as I grew older, I stopped taking them and I started spending more time in nature, where I was alone. Photography wasn’t just a job for me, it was my own therapy.

Everything was set up perfectly, I grinned widely as I leaned back in my seat. My bag was on the chair next to me, the camera placed on the table. For this to work, I needed as many people as there were inside the Coffee Shop to see it. Thankfully, traffic wasn’t bad and I got here five minutes before the target. I sat close to the exit, from where I could see the whole shop well and could run away too if something happened. The target too was really transparent, he sat at the same table he’s been sitting at for the past week. Next to the big windows, behind his table there were a bunch of plants decorating the place and a painting of flowers was hung above it. Which was perfect for me, my plan was coming together. The target has already ordered his coffee, so now it was my time to do something. I took my wallet and walked up to the barista, having hung the camera around my neck. The weight of it was comforting, having worn it for so long, that it became something familiar. I smiled at the barista and looked over the menu behind her, acting like I was thinking of what I wanted, offering her enough time to take in my attire closely.

“I’ll have Caramel Macchiato.” Finally, I told her and she nodded, returning the smile, as I handed her the money.

“A name?” I was glad this wasn’t the barista who took my orders the other times, I didn’t want them to recognize me. I wouldn’t come to this Coffee Shop either way anymore after I was done with this job.

“Y/N.” I answered the barista and she nodded, passing the cup with my name written on it, to her colleague. She printed the receipt and handed it to me, her eyes falling onto my camera. As there was no customer behind me at the moment, she looked at me curiously.

“You’re a photographer?” She asked as the coffee brewer started making loud noises.

“A nature photographer!” I told her with excitement and the barista nodded her head, offering me a friendly smile.

“I tried it once, it wasn’t made for me.” We chuckled at her words and I just shrugged.

“It requires patience and technique, for sure.” I said and she nodded her head in agreement, “By the way…this floral arrangement—”

And then I turned my body sideways, eyes falling on the target. He was just a few feet away, I made sure to speak even louder, so that he would hear me, “The floral arrangement is so pretty! Do you mind if I take pictures of it?”

The barista thought about it as my drink was done and handed to me by the other worker, “I don’t think it’s a problem, go ahead!”

“Thank you!” I bowed my head a little and she bid me farewell. My plan was working, I just needed to do one more thing. So, with the most innocent expression I could muster up, I approached the target. I knew he heard the conversation between me and the barista, but I wanted to make sure he understood what I was about to do.

“Sir, excuse me—” I spoke softly, almost shyly, “Do you mind if I take pictures of this floral arrangement? You won’t be in frame at all.”

“Go ahead.” He answered me with a very uninterested shrug, the wrinkles around his eyes made him look older than the age Mark told me. I bowed my head and placed my Caramel Macchiato on top of his table, turning on my camera. I kneeled on one knee and started snapping photos of the plants, pursing my lips, trying to get the perfect angle. Then I rose to my feet, and took another one, the painting above it being included in the shot too.

“I’ll take some more from my own table, just letting you know…” I spoke up again, but the man wasn’t paying attention to me. I smirked a little, grabbing my drink from his table, cradling it in both of my hands. With a victorious look on my face, I turned with enthusiasm and took a step forward blindly. My body slammed into another body, and we both yelped loudly. Mine was high pitched, but the other one was deep and almost guttural. My heart started thumping in my chest loudly, taken aback by the accident, and hopeful that I didn’t spill my drink on my favorite sweater nor on the person I ran into.

“I’m so—” But when I looked up, I was left breathless. The man standing in front of me was frowning, looking over himself, to check if anything got spilled on him. Thankfully, the lid of the drink was put on really well and the way I was holding the cup stopped it from spilling out. The thumping of my heart became deafening and all I could see suddenly was the man standing in front of me.

He’s the one. Don’t let him slip past your fingertips.

The dark voice, however, quickly snapped me out of the state I almost got lost in. The target, I’m here on a very serious mission, Mark’s counting on me. But the man’s eyes would be forever ebbed inside my mind, I knew I would think about his sharp, fox like eyes before going to sleep tonight…or every night. Round glasses sat on his long nose and he pushed them up with his long fingers, they almost fell off at the impact. When his lips started moving, all I could see was the redness of them and how deep his Cupid’s bow was. Then I snapped out of it, eyebrows furrowing as I totally missed what he just said.

“Uh—I’m really sorry.” I said awkwardly, stepping back when I realized how close our bodies were to each other.

“It’s fine, you didn’t spill any on me…or you.” His eyes went to the sweater I was wearing for a second before he looked back up. His deep voice sent goosebumps down my skin and I very visibly shivered, but I wasn’t cold. The dark blue hoodie this handsome stranger wore seemed to be alright.

“Yeah, I didn’t spill it…” My mind felt like it was made out of gum, I had no coherent thoughts and it made me feel awkward. Taking a last glance at the handsome stranger, noting how his black hair was clumsily parted above his left eye, I bowed, and then willed myself to move away.

He’s everything you’ve ever wanted.

I walked back to my table and took a seat, taking a deep breath in. I can’t let myself get distracted. I run into strangers all the time; this handsome, deep voiced man wasn’t different at all. I couldn’t let the voices get to me, I had to focus on the target. So, I took a big gulp of my Caramel Macchiato and then looked at the target. He was tapping the table almost nervously, so I turned on my camera again and took two pictures of him, then one of the floral arrangement to make sure it didn’t look suspicious. I looked around the Coffee Shop and my eyes fell on the handsome stranger, who was laughing with the barista. What could they have been talking about? The jingling of the door snapped me out of my own thoughts and I watched as a tall woman, wearing a business suit, walked inside. Her hair was in a low ponytail and she looked fairly young, I almost lost interest in her, but then she sat across from the target. I took another picture of the floral arrangement and then snapped a bunch of pictures of the two, making sure the woman’s face could be seen well in all. There was movement in the corner of my eyes and I saw the stranger sitting at a table close to the front desk.

You should snap a picture of him too.

I cleared my throat and took another sip of my drink, the target and the young woman got up from their table, and I quickly went to grab my bag and pushed my camera inside. As I stood up, a name was called.

“Wonwoo?” And I saw the handsome stranger stand up and walk up to the barista to take his drink. Wonwoo, that’s his name. But I shook my head and waved at the barista with a cheerful smile as I quickly left the Coffee Shop, eyes narrowing to see the couple. To my luck, they were walking on the other side of the road, so I remained on this side and fished out my camera.

So, you’ll leave Wonwoo for that pathetic old man and the woman? He’s not more important?

I shook my head and snapped a few pictures as I walked on the sidewalk, getting to a cross. I crossed the road and cursed when they disappeared around the corner, I had to speed up; and threw the cup in the trash bin as I have finished my drink. I looked around once I turned the corner and panicked for a second, thinking I lost the target. But suddenly, I spotted them sitting on a bench in the park, so I headed that way. I started taking pictures of the river and the few birds sitting by the shore, then of the trees that have blossomed already. The white cherry blossoms were beautiful and I smiled to myself as a light breeze brushed my hair. Then I willed myself to focus again and turned the camera towards the target and the woman, who had decided to take a walk. There was a decent distance between them and I, and to anyone else, it would look like I’m taking pictures of the nature; which I was still kind of doing. The couple walked around for at least five minutes, and I decided to sit on a bench and watch them from there, putting on my shades as the sun was directly in front of me. I was just about to snap a picture of a little duck family, but the woman leaned in towards the target and I quickly started snapping pictures of them. It looked like she whispered something in his ear and then a kiss was pressed against the target’s cheek and the woman walked the opposite way they have come in. I snapped pictures of her alone too before turning back towards the target, who was on his phone. He was on the other side of the river, and I couldn’t have reached him in time, or follow him, my car was ten minutes away from here. So, I just continued snapping more pictures, and my eyebrows furrowed when someone got into the frame. The black hair covered the side of the picture, and I moved a little to the left, leaning against the trunk of a tree. I snapped pictures of the license plate and of the target as he got inside the car, seeing someone already inside of it. I smirked to myself as the car drove away and pulled my phone out, going to my contacts. I pressed the icon next to the name ‘Money Bag’ and it dialed the number.

“Anything?” Mark picked up on the first ring.

“A young chick showed up, but they split up and I lost both. My car wasn’t close enough.”

“That’s fine, where are you now?”

“At the park, by the river.”

“Okay, meet me in front of the town hall.” I hung up and placed everything inside my bag as I started walking back to my car, enjoying the weather and the warm sunlight. Spring was finally around the corner, it was the perfect time to snap pictures of nature, or at least, my favorite time. As a second thought, I took my camera into my hands and turned it on, curious of how the nature pictures turned out. I scrolled past the ones of the target and woman, and chuckled when the one with the ducks came into view. They were cute, people would like this. As I continued looking through the pictures, the ones where someone got into them, made me frown. I was about to delete them, but my finger paused. Black hair, sharp jaw, long nose, round glasses.

You know you can’t delete it. You can’t fight the urge, can’t you? Wonwoo’s the one, listen to us!

The town hall wasn’t far from the park, so I didn’t bother driving there. Besides, I liked taking walks. It helped with calming me, even though I was desperately in need of a run right now. After waking up, Doyoung and I go straight for a run, but I slept in this morning and I’m sure Doyoung woke up later too as he worked until late last night. He said his boss, Sana, was making him work extra hours because she was sniffing around a very powerful mafia leader. I was aware of the illegal things some people did, sometimes the people I had to stalk for Mark weren’t the brightest, I was well aware of that, but I was never offered information about them. It was Mark’s way of protecting me from harm, which I didn’t think did much. If I was caught, they wouldn’t care if I knew or not things about them, I probably would have been still tortured. Which is why I asked Mark to keep the details to himself, if I knew that I was stalking a mafia leader or some other gang member, I probably would’ve been too scared to go through with the procedure.

I was shifting my weight from one leg to another as I stood waiting around for Mark, pouting when I looked down at my wrist watch. I’ve been standing here for ten minutes; I was becoming really bored. I took my phone and sent a text to Doyoung, checking up on him.

From Doyoung: Just had my lunch break, I’ll be heading back to work. It’s possible I’ll be back late once again.

To Doyoung: No problem, I’ll leave some dinner for you.

From Doyoung: What are you up to?

To Doyoung: I’ll be going for a run in a few minutes, see you at home!

From Doyoung: Take care of yourself!

I smiled and as I looked up, Mark was walking towards me. I started waving at him with a big grin, my phone almost fell from my grip, but I managed to steady it. Mark was wearing dark jeans and a black hoodie, with a black baseball cap on his head. If this was him trying to be casual, he was failing.

“Stop drawing attention to us!” He said with a hiss as he came to a stop in front of me and I frowned.

“That’s not how you should treat someone so important to your team.” I said and Mark rolled his eyes, extending one hand. He was gripping some cash and I took it with a grin, quickly placing it inside my bag.

“Well, since you asked so nicely…” I said teasingly and Mark rolled his eyes again, I handed him the memory card, “Take good care of it! And don’t delete the other pictures I took; some came out really well!”

“I won’t.” He said with a grin and then looked down at the card, “Your job is done here, wait until I contact you again. You could go on a vacation or something.”

I laughed quietly, giving Mark a look, “Yes, captain, I might just do that.”

Mark shook his head before taking off with a wave, I waved back and then turned to walk inside the second-hand shop. I greeted the lady and told her I just wanted to change inside the cabin, so she left me alone. I changed my normal attire into my running one. Yoga pants and adidas, a black top with a fluffy hoodie over it. I pulled my hair in a low bun and stuffed everything inside my big bag, it’s why I carried it around. Random runs were the best, always exciting as I never knew where I felt like going for one. I smiled at the lady from front desk as I left the shop, heading for my car. The walk was quick because I tried to hurry up, excited to go for the run. Once I got to my car, I placed my bag inside and then locked it, having my phone and keys in the pocket of the hoodie. I headed back to the park where I took the pictures of the target and woman, and first did a little warm up. I stretched my legs out and back a little, and then started running. I took steady breaths as I ran down the path, my pace not very fast but not slow either. My heartrate picked up as I continued running and I marveled in the peace around me. The scenery brought a smile onto my lips as I ran past some couples; I willed my mind to stop thinking. It was a hard thing to do at first, I was always thinking of something, but I had to learn due to the dark voices that would sometimes push me into doing things. I could ignore them, now better than when I was younger, but it was still difficult. The problem was, they could drive me crazy, I couldn’t ignore them forever, and in times like those, I would disappear. Doyoung hated it when I did that, but I haven’t had an episode like that in long.

But you can’t stop thinking about Wonwoo. You want him, you know it. You can’t lock us away anymore, Y/N, we are here. Wonwoo wants you too. Didn’t you see the way he looked at you? He fell for you, Y/N, listen to us once again. Do it. Just ask Mark. He’ll find him in a second for you. You didn’t delete his picture; you have his name—

A loud shout left my lips as I tumbled over some rocks that were on the path, but thankfully I didn’t fall. My eyebrows furrowed as I crouched down to hug my knees against my chest. I can’t let the voices get to me. I can’t let one stranger fuck up what I built up with so much struggle. I couldn’t let a stranger rule my life. I wouldn’t let the voices get to me, no matter what. I was stronger than that. With a deep breath, chest rising and falling quickly, I turned around and started running back. The energy burst I had this morning seemed to have disappeared, which was a good sign. I would have to take a bath at home and then cook some dinner, edit the pictures I took today after Mark drops off the memory card and post them on my blog. Well, that settles it then, I smiled as I came to the end of the path. I slowed down to a walk and took deep breaths, leveling my breathing. I turned to walk on the sidewalk and felt the breeze brush my hair once again, making me shiver a little bit. My body was warm from the run and I concluded that sitting inside my warm car while I was sweaty was probably a better idea than spending more time outside, in the cold breezy weather. But my mind went numb when I saw the black-haired man sitting on a bench with a book in his hands. My feet were still moving, but it felt like I wasn’t in control of it anymore. The Universe was really testing me today. I bit my lower lip and unconsciously grabbed my phone inside my pocket.

No, the Universe is doing for you what you didn’t want to do, Y/N. He’s right there, sitting on that bench, waiting for you. How could you let this opportunity slip past your fingertips? You want it, so do it.

I didn’t realize it until it was too late, my finger had already pressed the button, a picture of Wonwoo having been taken. I hated myself for doing it, but it felt like all stress finally left my body. I felt at ease, I wasn’t fighting with my thoughts anymore, with the dark voices. In the end, I really didn’t have a choice but to fall back into my old habits. And I was doing so well, until Wonwoo showed up. What will Doyoung think if he finds out? I can’t be sent to a psychic ward again, it wouldn’t help. They never help; I hate the medication they give me. I can survive without them too. Maybe if I stalk him for a week or two, I can get rid of the voices and go back to how I was before meeting him. But I pressed the button again, another picture snapped of Wonwoo. I wasn’t walking anymore, I was rooted in one place, mouth hanging open as I gazed at Wonwoo in awe. I must have looked hilarious, crazy even, but I didn’t care. I couldn’t look away; I couldn’t even move. But then suddenly, he didn’t flip the page of the book like he was planning to do, instead, he looked up. And his eyes fell on me, as if he felt that I was looking at him, and I jumped. His furrowed eyebrows snapped me out of my delirium, his sharp gaze sent a shiver down my spine and suddenly I found myself running away. I didn’t care what he thought, I was ashamed that I let the voices control me; it was time I headed home. It would be safer for everyone else if I just stayed at home.

That’s our girl, you’re doing amazing.

The first thing I did once I got home was clean the house, my blood was boiling as I lost grip of the voices, which kept celebrating for I have taken those two pictures of Wonwoo in the park. In that rage, I deleted them from my phone and threw my phone in the trash bin I had in my room, slamming the door shut as I went to the bathroom to grab what I needed to clean the house. I turned on music, played it loudly too, blocking out the noises coming from outside, but the voices in my mind too. Due to my rage, I was done in almost two hours, it usually would take longer if someone tried to clean the house alone, we had a lot of stuff despite it not being a big house. Once I calmed down, I went to the kitchen and made some ramen, sweet potatoes made in the oven, and some seasoned pork. I went and bought beer for Doyoung and myself, and after putting them in the fridge, I decided to check my phone to see if anyone tried looking for me. It was six in the afternoon and I hoped Doyoung didn’t think that I was kidnapped…well, he’d actually know that. For my own safety, he installed an app on my phone that could track me. I only accepted it because I knew he worried a lot about me, Doyoung and I had a strong bond and the episodes I had always broke him mentally, I tried to be a better person for him too.

From Doyoung: I don’t think the ramens in the cupboard are still edible. Text me if you get home!

To Doyoung: Well, I cooked those ramens, so now they are edible! Sorry, I cleaned the house so I wasn’t around my phone…

From Doyoung: Cleaned the house? Are you feeling alright?

I chuckled at the fast reply, no surprise Sana made him stay plus hours if he hung on his phone while on duty.

To Doyoung: Don’t worry, I’m feeling perfectly fine! I hope Sana pays you well if you stay after working hours!

From Doyoung: Don’t worry about that, she stays with me.

To Doyoung: Oh! Someone’s getting it!

I laughed as Doyoung started typing back, imagining his angry and flustered face.

From Doyoung: Don’t be silly, Y/N!

To Doyoung: Okay, bye!

I laughed as I walked to the bathroom, turning on the warm water to have a bath. After the long day I had today, I deserved a warm, relaxing bath. I got a message from Mark, a thumbs up, and I knew the memory card was in the mailbox, so I quickly jumped into some shoes and ran outside to retrieve it. I locked the front gate, Doyoung had keys too, and then hurried back inside the house. I placed the memory card on my desk and then proceeded to undress while walking back to the bathroom. I turned the faucet off and threw some bath salts into the water, pulling my hair in a high bun. I shut the blinds of the bathroom and sighed, biting my lower lip. Would it be so bad if I asked Mark to look up Wonwoo a little bit? I wouldn’t try to do anything, I just wanted to know him better? I wasn’t doing anything wrong, right? I picked up my phone reluctantly as I sat on the side of the bathtub, easing my legs into the water. I went to my gallery and to the pictures I deleted, they didn’t get instantly deleted from my phone, they were stored there for another month before finally getting deleted off the device. I selected the two pictures of Wonwoo and sent them to Mark.

To Mark: His name is Wonwoo. Remember that favor you have going on? Return it by looking this guy up.

I threw the phone onto the clothing pile that was on the ground by the bathtub and lowered myself into the water, feeling bad that I couldn’t resist the urge. It was too easy with Mark, when I was a teenager, I would do everything by myself. It was thrilling to run after someone, watch them from a distance not knowing if they would notice you or not. And if they indeed noticed you, you could always play it off somehow. But this was safer, I couldn’t risk falling back into my old habits. It was like gambling or drugs…you needed rehabilitation from it, but the yearning never really goes away. I hated myself for doing this, but without the medication I so refused to take, I wasn’t strong enough. I wouldn’t admit that to others or myself, living in a lie was always easier. But tonight, I would allow myself to live in a fantasy.

· Name: Jeon Wonwoo

· Birth date: 1996. 07.17.

· Height: 1,82 m

· Siblings: Kim Mingyu, apparently they are both adopted

· Job: Chauffeur of a business man

· Places he’s frequently seen at: National library, Sunday Gym, Red Corner bookstore, various parks around his neighborhood, hiking trails around the forest, Soul BBQ, Sky Blue headquarters

· Car: red Mercedes CLS class

· Additional things I found about him: It seems like he has thirteen close friends, he lives with his adopted brother; but I couldn’t find the address anywhere. Surveillance cameras say that he usually goes to read in the park, by the river, and he drinks a lot of coffee. I’m pretty sure he wears glasses, but there’s few pictures of him wearing it. I’m sorry, Y/N, for some reason this is everything I could find about him. He’s got a clean record, and even the little information I gave you I could barely find. Something’s fishy, but maybe he really isn’t that interesting. I wouldn’t bother with someone like him. P.S. Don’t tell anyone I helped you gain information on him, they’ll fire me!

The birds chirping were the first thing I heard as I woke up, then the hurried knocks on my door. I groaned loudly, voice hoarse from having just woken up, and the knocking stopped.

“Get up, it’s almost 9 am!” Doyoung’s voice called from the other side of the door and I sighed, burying my head in my pillow, “I’m heading in to work later. I can drive you to wherever you want to go, if you want me to.”

That definitely got my attention as I raised my head, “Okay!”

I cleared my throat and jumped up into a seated position, looking around my bed. Printed pictures lingered scattered around the blanket and my laptop was on the verge of falling off, so I grabbed it and got out of bed. I walked to my desk and placed it on top of it, leaning against the edge of the glass. I looked down at the pictures that were on my bed and decided, that I would do this. I stayed up until late night to research myself as much as I could about Wonwoo, but he had no social media. I found a few yearbook photos of him, but they didn’t help with much. Mark was right, he seemed to be a very boring person…he almost felt like a ghost, like his real identity was buried deep down. And that was exciting, so, if Doyoung had already offered to give me a lift, I could just head to the Red Corner bookstore and check it out for myself. Hopefully, Wonwoo would be there. I still don’t know his schedule, but if I start lurking around the places Mark told me about, I can very easily follow Wonwoo around once he shows up.

After having breakfast with Doyoung, we both got dressed and I gave him instructions to the Red Corner bookstore and we were off, rolling down the busy streets of the city. My fingers were tapping against my knees in excitement as I tried to stay still, trying not to alert Doyoung that I was feeling excited about something. But he was my brother, and he noticed.

“I didn’t know going to a bookstore could make you excited.” He raised an eyebrow and I chuckled, shaking my head.

“It’s not that, I’m just in a good mood!” I tried to lie, but Doyoung just shook his head; I knew he didn’t believe me.

“So…now you suddenly like to read?” He asked with a teasing grin and I scoffed, turning to look at him.

“What do you mean?” I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms in front of my chest, “I always liked to read!”

“Fashion magazines, maybe.” I huffed and it made Doyoung laugh as he drove through an intersection. Once Doyoung was done laughing, he cleared his throat and briefly glanced at me.

“You wouldn’t be so excited about books unless you’re stalking someone.” I failed to pick up on the playfulness in his voice, the way he bit his lower lip to try and stay serious. My heart started suddenly beating really fast and my grip tightened around the seatbelt, my whole body became tense. How did he realize? Did he walk inside my room while I was sleeping? Was it something in my words that gave it away? Did I get worse at hiding my feelings? I could feel Doyoung’s gaze on me, but I couldn’t move out of fear. I was scared of what was coming next and ashamed. But then, Doyoung gasped and I had to look at him.

“I’m sorry!” He exclaimed, panic lacing his words, and I became confused, “I didn’t mean to say that—I—I worded that so badly, Y/N—”

“Oh,” I chuckled, trying to collect myself, “No, it was a joke! I totally get it!”

I couldn’t believe I almost gave myself away. He had no idea; he was just teasing me! I chuckled again, feeling at ease as I turned to look at Doyoung again. “Seriously, I totally got your joke!”

“I’m still sorry—” My laughter interrupted Doyoung and he just shook his head, still looking guilty.

“I could become an actress if my reaction made you react like this.” But in truth, my reaction was genuine and I was so thankful that Doyoung didn’t realize that. He could read people very easily, but maybe as he was driving he couldn’t focus fully, which was great for me. Doyoung sighed and he pulled up to the sidewalk, looking at the Red Corner bookstore, which was just across the road. I smiled and unbuckled the seatbelt; I pressed a kiss against Doyoung’s cheek then got out. He offered me a small wave before driving away. I took a deep breath and smiled, looking around the street. It didn’t look like a very busy neighborhood; a few people were walking here and there. To my right there were many narrow alleys that lead to the main road, and I took off down the street. Why would Wonwoo come to a bookstore in this side of the city if he could go to the big one at the mall? Wonderingly, I crossed the street and carefully approached the bookstore. It wasn’t open yet, so I figured I could go to the coffee shop I saw while Doyoung drove us here. The bookstore would only open in half an hour, I still had time. I walked down the street with a skip in my steps, smiling widely. I had a feeling today was going to be a successful day, but for that I needed Mark to leave me alone. I was hoping he wouldn’t get a new case for at least a week, the potentiality of following Wonwoo around without him knowing had me in a very good mood. Sleeping on the choices I took yesterday definitely did well, I wasn’t feeling as bad about as I was yesterday. Yes, it was still wrong what I was doing, but as long as no one got harmed, it wasn’t something very bad!

I entered the coffee shop and walked to the front desk, ordering my usual drink of choice. When it was done, I walked to a table and took a seat, it was by the window, and took a sip of the Caramel Macchiato. I watched the people who passed by and took another sip, relaxing in the chair, feeling content. The melody playing in the shop was pleasant and I bobbed my head to the rhythm. The bell chimed and I watched the beautiful girl that walked in, her hair was dark brown and wavy. She had bangs and she was tall, definitely a beauty.

You could follow her too, she’s your type. If Wonwoo backfires, you have an alternative.

I almost laughed out loud at the words whispered to me by the dark voices, feeling truly entertained. It was so easy to find someone, like I said, it could be literally anyone. If I found them attractive, nothing was stopping me from stalking them. But I shook my head, took another sip of the drink, and ignored the voices. I wouldn’t let them take full control over me. And as the beautiful girl waited at the front desk, my back straightened as a very familiar red Mercedes came into view. It was Wonwoo’s car. My heart started thumping quickly and for a second I didn’t know what do to, so I relaxed into the seat, trying to stay low-key. The beautiful girl saw my sudden reaction and she looked at me concerned, but I just smiled at her, trying to show her that I was fine. When she turned her back on me, I grabbed my phone and quickly went to the camera, snapping a picture through the window. Wonwoo couldn’t be seen, all windows of the car were tinted, but he didn’t get out. I quickly locked my phone when I heard the heels of the girl getting closer as she walked by me and I waited patiently until she was out of the shop before I sprung onto my feet. My knees accidentally knocked into the table and it took the barista off guard, I hurriedly went up to her and handed back the now empty glass, thanking her for her services. She gave me a funny look but I ignored her as I almost ran out of the coffee shop.

“Bye!” I called to her with a wave before exiting, and stopped for a second, taking a deep breath. Wonwoo’s car was still there, but I didn’t know if he was in there or not, so walking up to it would have been too risky.

Oh, here comes the fun we’ve been all missing.

My whole body was shaking in excitement as I thought of my next move, deciding to walk by the bookstore. I could peek inside and see if Wonwoo was in there or not, the windows were big enough to see everything from the outside. So, I started moving, fingers tapping against my palm anxiously, heart thumping wildly. This was always exciting, but also nerve wrecking. I had to move without being seen…or recognized. But, I was sure Wonwoo had already forgotten my face, I was just an ordinary, clumsy girl who almost spilled her coffee on him.

No, the image of your face has been forever printed into his mind, Y/N. He’s watching you, just like you are watching him.

I stopped walking, the woman behind me almost ran into me as she was taken off by my sudden lack of movement. She gave me a glare, but I ignored her. I was right in front of the bookstore and my heart was beating even faster. What did the voices mean? Does Wonwoo know that I’m stalking him? That can’t possibly be true…why would he…

Are you the only person that stalks in this world?

I shook my head and closed my eyes for a second, trying to block the voices. The thought of that creeped me out and I didn’t want to think about being possibly stalked. Then I mustered the courage and looked inside, seeing two girls at the front desk. No trace of Wonwoo, however, as I looked around the place. Not wanting to draw too much attention to myself, I walked by and rounded the corner, leaning against the red cobblestone wall. Well, if Wonwoo wasn’t inside, he must still be in his car. Which is bad, because Doyoung drove me here. I didn’t think I’d have success on my first day of keeping my eyes on him, so I didn’t find coming with a car necessary. But now, I regretted my decision. With a sigh, I took my phone in my hand and was about to search for a cab, but then I heard laughter. Deep laughter. Coming from around the corner. My heart skipped a beat as I peeked around the corner, he was standing there. Wearing light blue jeans and a turtleneck, his dark hair in his eyes and round glasses sitting high up on the bridge of his nose. I quietly exhaled, taken by the sight in front of me. Wonwoo laughed again, his voice was still deep, his laughter was short but warm. The way his lips pulled up into a huge smile it melted away the cold expression I’ve seen him have in the pictures I found of him. His eyes didn’t look as menacing anymore. Not even realizing that I was doing it, I snapped a few pictures, hopeful that I caught his smiling face. But he was with the beautiful girl, and she was touching his arm. So then does Wonwoo have a girlfriend? And it’s the beautiful girl from the coffee shop? It isn’t impossible.

You could have both…or you could get rid of one…

“Shut up!” I hissed, and quickly ducked back behind the red cobblestone wall, scared that they heard me. They were a good distance away, and there was noise on the street, but I could never be too sure. I hated the dark voices, especially when they suggested getting rid of someone. I could never do it; I didn’t want to. I would go too low, I would disappoint Doyoung so much. If I killed someone, he’d be the one putting me behind bars. I didn’t want to see the pain on his face, pain I caused for him. I didn’t want him to suffer or worry for me anymore, he’s had enough of it while we were still young kids.

The slamming of the bookstore door snapped me out of my thoughts and nervously, I peeked around the corner again, seeing Wonwoo walking away. He was headed towards his car, so I didn’t bother following him at first, but when he went past it without getting in, I grinned. He wasn’t leaving just yet, that means I can follow him around! Fixing my hair and keeping my phone in my hand for comfort, I took off after Wonwoo, keeping a safe distance between us.

And I had a very successful day. Wonwoo stayed in the neighborhood for three hours, just walking around. I snapped plenty of pictures of him, ones I would have to copy on my laptop the second I got home and delete them off my phone. He did go and had breakfast at a tiny local restaurant, which had amazing food by the way. They had some traditional cake that I haven’t eaten before, and I made a mental note to return there from time to time. Maybe with Doyoung, he’s always had a sweet tooth. Then Wonwoo went for a short walk in the park, before he went back to the bookstore. He came out with a book and then went behind the bookstore, to a playground, sat underneath a big willow tree and read. For two hours, he didn’t move from there. His hair was moved by the breeze from time to time, his lips pursed sometimes, and eyebrows furrowed every once in a while. His glasses kept falling off and he had to push them up every five minutes. I’m assuming when something was interesting or tense, he’d bite his lip or thumb, eyes running over quickly the words on the white pages. I took a picture and I was able to see the title of the book, ‘I’ll be gone in the dark’. So, he was into crime books, I looked up and smiled in his direction. He just became more and more mysterious. I was aching to know who he truly was, what he truly liked, I was yearning to hear his beautiful laughter again. And as if Wonwoo finally noticed that someone was watching him, he looked up. And he looked at me. We made eye contact, my heart started beating like crazy, my hands shook.

What will you do now Y/N? Isn’t this just thrilling?

But suddenly a tap on my knee made me jump. I looked down confused and saw a little boy grinning up at me. My eyebrows rose as I watched him; he had his hands behind his back.

“Hello?” I asked confused, glancing around to see if he was with anyone. A couple elderly people were by the entrance of the playground, chatting. He was probably with one of them.

“Hi!” The boy said shyly and I offered him a warm smile.

“Can I help you? Are you lost?” I asked him, making sure that he wasn’t here alone.

“No.” He shook his head with a chuckle, then looked down. I chuckled and looked at him confused; he was shifting his weight from one leg to another.

“You’ve been sitting here for a long time,” He suddenly said as he looked back at me, “Aren’t you cold?”

I didn’t know how to answer him, he took me off guard. What was a little boy doing, talking to a stranger?

“My jacket is thick, I’m not cold—”

“Do you like that man?” When the little boy suddenly pointed at Wonwoo, my heart jumped into my throat. I was praying he wasn’t looking my way anymore, and thankfully; he wasn’t. Actually, he was gone. Disappointment settled in and my eyebrows furrowed as I looked around, trying to spot him.

“He’s gone.” I whispered, standing up abruptly. My legs were sore, my ass actually hurt. I should have moved around, not sat there unmoving for two hours straight.

“This is for you.” The little boy chuckled and I looked back down at him; he was holding a little white flower. I took it from him confused, but he just grinned at me and then ran off. What a strange encounter that was. But after that, I went back to the bookstore, and Wonwoo’s car was gone. He had left. That meant I was done for the day, he could’ve been anywhere, and I was actually really cold. So, I called a cab and went home, changed and then went for a long run. I needed to clear my mind, block the voices that were so violently trying to dictate me my next move. I wouldn’t let them rule over me, I was the one in charge of myself and my actions.

After I got home, I showered and cooked some dinner, then I sat in the living room with the TV on as I copied all the pictures I took of Wonwoo onto my laptop. My cheeks felt warm as I looked at them again. I printed two, one where Wonwoo was smiling and one while he was sitting underneath the tree. The breeze had picked up and his hair was blown all around, he was pushing up his glasses, his lips in a tight line. The pictured offered me calmness and as I was looking at it, the front door got unlocked. Franticly, I closed my laptop and threw the two pictures into the folder I was using to store everything I had on Wonwoo. Doyoung looked tired as he walked inside and I was standing very awkwardly in the middle of the living room.

“Hi!” I called out loudly and he looked up, taken aback by my presence there.

“Uh, hi.” He greeted back, giving me a questioning look but I just giggled.

“I cooked dinner!” I tried to diffuse the awkwardness and Doyoung started grinning.

“Thank God, I didn’t have lunch today, I’m starving!” He said as he pushed his shoes off.

“It’s important to have lunch.” I said as I walked to the fridge, taking out the food I had prepared.

“Yeah, but according to Sana, so is raiding the Sky-Blue headquarters.” Doyoung said defeated and my eyebrows furrowed. Where have I heard that name before?

“Why? What’s there?” I asked curiously as Doyoung took off towards his room.

“The mafia Sana is sniffing around.” And with that he went inside his room to change and come to have dinner. But the report from Mark said that Wonwoo frequents that place often. Why? Does he maybe know there’s a mafia inside there? Or is he oblivious to it?

And you thought he was boring? Aren’t things getting more and more interesting?

“How was your day?” I slammed the plates on the table and it made Doyoung wince. I gave him an apologetic grin as I placed two forks and some napkins too next to the plates.

“Uneventful,” I said with a sigh, going to the living room to grab my stuff, “I’ll be right back, I’ll just put these in my room.”

Doyoung hummed as he took a seat at the table, placing food on his plate. I hurried to my room, clutching the file tightly to make sure it wouldn’t open and free its contents onto the floor as I carried the laptop in my other hand. I entered my room and went towards my desk, placing my laptop on top of it. The file I placed on a shelf of my bookcase and as I was about to leave I noticed how the temperature was a bit colder than in the other rooms. Looking around, I noticed my window was slightly open and with a sigh, I went and closed it and locked it. It wasn’t unlike me to forget to close it back if I happened to open it up. And just as I turned around to leave the room for good, my eyes stopped on my nightstand. Five white lilies were placed in a tall glass with water. I remained rooted to the spot, warmness spreading in my chest. It’s been long since I got flowers from someone. How did Doyoung get these in here without me noticing the flowers when he got inside the house? I chuckled and shook my head as I went to have dinner, stomach churning loudly. It felt nice to get flowers. Even if they were from my brother.

I should have taken Mark’s offer and went on that vacation he proposed, but my mind wouldn’t let me do that. I had a new mission, and it was following Wonwoo around. For a whole week I was vigilant enough that he didn’t notice me and now I knew his habits. In the mornings, he’d take that beautiful girl to the bookstore and then go buy himself coffee. Sometimes he’d go back to that park and read for a few hours, other times he’d leave and go to the gym. He would spend a lot of time at the Sky-Blue headquarters and drive his boss to less or more sketchy places. His boss was Kim Mingyu, it crossed my mind to research him too and follow him around for a day or two, but he was giving me bad vibes. When I trailed after Wonwoo’s car when he was with Mingyu, I felt like the two knew I was there. Sometimes, they’d drive around in the same neighborhood twice and I would have to take different turns in order to make it seem like I wasn’t following them…but it almost always led me to lose them. After Wonwoo was done with his work, he’d go to the national library and spend hours there, so much, that I was starting to worry that he’d fall ill from not eating and drinking enough. In fact, he barely ate anything all day, maybe he did it somehow when I wasn’t watching, otherwise I can’t explain how he remained energetic and standing for the whole day. On the third day of watching him, I decided to enter the library myself and try and find a book that I would enjoy. He switched from the book he was reading to a different one, in fact, every day he read something different. It was confusing, and I was dying to ask him why…but the right moment hadn’t come for it yet. One day, I got so immersed in my own book that I totally forgot about keeping my eyes on Wonwoo too and when I looked up from my book, Wonwoo was gone from his usual spot. I looked around a little too frantically, my knees bouncing fast. I waited for two more minutes before I sprung up onto my feet and took off towards the section I took the book I was reading from. I heard hushed laughter coming from nearby but I was busy trying push the book back in its place, so busy, that I totally missed the deep tone of the laughter. When I finally had the book in its original place, I turned and took off pretty much running, which led me into stumbling forward as my shoes got caught in the carpet. I gasped and ran into the bookshelves in front of me, barely catching myself from falling.

“Are you alright?” A feminine voice asked, and as I turned to answer them, my heart stopped beating. The woman was standing next to Wonwoo and they were both looking at me confused and concerned. I gulped and suddenly my throat was dry as my eyes jumped from the woman to Wonwoo and then back at the woman and then again to Wonwoo. I was waiting for him to point at me and yell that I’m a psycho stalker, but he just looked confused and I quietly sighed.

“Yeah, sorry!” I said awkwardly and bowed my head quickly before turning around and running away embarrassed. It was good that Wonwoo had no recollection of my face, it means that he didn’t pay much attention to me at the Coffee Shop and he also didn’t know that I was pretty much stalking him. As much as stalking Wonwoo made my week better and definitely uplifted my mood, the highlight of my week were the daily white lilies I was finding in my room each evening. I didn’t know how Doyoung was doing it, I could swear I saw him enter empty handed each evening, but maybe he was turning into a magician and was trying his tricks out on me. I didn’t say anything to him, wanting to act oblivious to his nice act if he wouldn’t say something first. But I had my concerns regarding Wonwoo and the relationship between him and the beautiful girl from the bookstore. She worked there and seeing them each morning together gave me the impression that they were on really good terms…possibly even dating, even though I’ve only seen them hugging. So, for that, to check it myself, I had a plan. I bought a copy of the book I saw Wonwoo reading in the park and one morning, on a Tuesday when I knew Wonwoo wouldn’t be the one giving a lift to the beautiful girl, I headed inside the bookstore.

The bell chimed loudly and it was warm inside. The radio was playing through the speakers at a low volume and the girl I was here for was at the front desk. My eyes fell on her and I noticed how she hasn’t had curly hair ever since that day I saw her in the Coffee Shop. She was concentrated on her phone, smiling as she typed quickly. I cleared my throat and walked up to the front desk, leaning against it. It took her a second to realize that someone was standing there, looking at her.

“Oh, hi!” She had a powerful voice; it didn’t take one long to realize she was a confident person. I smiled at her kindly and tapped my fingers against the counter.

“Hi…” I looked around quickly, feigning nervousness, “I’m sorry to bother you here…”

Then I looked at her name tag and read her name, “Hyemi, pretty name! Anyways…uhm, this book…”

I grabbed it out of my bag and placed it on top of the counter, “Wonwoo borrowed it to me and well…I’ve had it for too long and I want to return it.”

“Oh, you know Wonwoo?” Hyemi’s eyebrows rose as she took the book from me and looked at it, “I’ve seen this one laying around in his house.”

Oh, so she knows where Wonwoo lives. And she was there too. You knew this was coming, Y/N, but are you ready to face the consequences? What if you have to give up both? You can always get rid of one of them…you know it’s not hard…

“I’ve met him at the library, sometimes we talk,” I said with a shrug and took the book back from Hyemi, “he recommended it to me.”

I was hoping she didn’t see the tightness of my jaw as I tried to ignore the evil voices. They were urging me to grab the girl by the hair and drag her away. I couldn’t do that; I wasn’t like that anymore. And nothing was sure yet. They can be friends; friends hang out together in their apartments all the time. I can’t jump to conclusions just yet. And I’ve never seen Wonwoo spend time with her except for when he drops Hyemi off in the mornings.

“He really likes doing that!” Hyemi said with a roll of her eyes and I chuckled, putting the book away.

“He does, but it’s fine, I don’t mind.” She hummed and we looked behind her when there was a click. Another breathtakingly beautiful woman walked into the room and I couldn’t help but gape at her. Her lips were red and her long brown hair was in a low ponytail, eyeliner on her eyelids. She looked amazing, I cleared my throat and quickly read her name tag. Irene.

“Everything alright?” She asked with authority in her voice and I found myself nodding very quickly, but Hyemi just chuckled.

“Yes, I was just talking to—” Then both women looked at me and I was lost for a second, feeling flustered. My fingers tapped against the counter quickly and I realized they were waiting for me to tell them my name.

“Y/N!” I exclaimed and my cheeks became warm, “Uhm, my name is Y/N.”

“Wonwoo borrowed Y/N a book and she wants to return it.” Hyemi said with a smile and Irene hummed, looking me over quickly. Then she offered me a small smile and her stern expression melted away. It eased my nerves a little and I offered her a similar smile.

“Right, so…could you give me his address?” I asked, very innocently, as I looked Hyemi in the eyes. She knows where Wonwoo lives, I’m a little bothered by that but at least now I’ll find out his address too. But her eyebrows furrowed and she looked at me apologetically.

“Sorry, I don’t think I should just tell you that…without Wonwoo’s consent at least—”

“Oh, right!” I exclaimed and looked down embarrassed, “That was really…a dumb request, don’t worry! I totally get it!”

“Not to be mean—”

“No! It’s fine, you’re right!” I waved my hands in the air and Irene chuckled as she watched the exchange between us. I took a step back and played with my fingers as I tried to keep on an embarrassed expression.

“I’ll give it back to him when I meet him at the library.”

“Are you sure? You could give it to me and I’ll—”

“I’m sure.” I interrupted Hyemi and walked backwards towards the door, “Have a nice day, ladies!”

“You too!” Irene called out as Hyemi’s eyebrows furrowed a little bit.

“Bye.” She muttered as I hurried out the door, heart beating fast. What if she realized I was lying? Now all I could hope for was that she wouldn’t tell Wonwoo and throw me off from the progress I’ve been making.

And that day when I arrived home, I found more white lilies sitting on the little table that we had on the front porch. I took them and inhaled their scent, a smile appearing on my lips. And as a breeze passed by, I felt eyes on me. So, I straightened up and looked around, but the fence was high enough that no one would see inside, so I shook the feeling off and unlocked the front door, walking inside the house and headed to the kitchen to take a vase for the new lilies.

A few days passed since I’ve been to the bookstore and I had realized that I needed a different approach. Yesterday, Hyemi and Wonwoo didn’t show up to the bookstore and as I went on with my day, I found Wonwoo nowhere he’d usually be at. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions, so, I figured they must have taken a day off. But that thought didn’t sit well with me, so, I decided that it was time I took serious actions. A more straightforward approach. One that would set off the start of something between Wonwoo and I.

I woke up a little earlier than I usually would to be able to get ready. We had only one bathroom, and for once, I put a little effort into my appearance. I usually didn’t doll myself up, but today I wanted to look pretty. So, I put on minimal makeup and decided to be a bit bold and use red lipstick too. I pulled my hair out of my face and clipped the front strands back and then I cooked breakfast for Doyoung and I, wanting to surprise him. He was always the one that got up early and made sure we ate well, but I felt like returning this little favor to him since he’s been bringing me white lilies for almost two weeks now. I even turned his morning alarm off, wanting to give him a little extra time to sleep, which was always welcomed as he worked late and had to wake up really early. After breakfast was ready, I went back to my room to get dressed and spent at least ten minutes thinking of an outfit. In the end, I settled on high waist mom jeans and a long-sleeved colorful crop top as yesterday it was rather warm. Then, I grabbed my bag and went to Doyoung’s room to wake him up. He was in a good mood once I told him I cooked breakfast and that I let him sleep in, his laughter echoed in the house as he told me a funny story that happened at work. Breakfast was pleasant and tasty and once we were done, I didn’t wait for Doyoung, I headed out. I told him that I found a new path in the forest that lead to a beautiful clearing with a spring and that I wanted to take pictures while the sun wasn’t high up in the sky, which unfortunately was a lie. I did find a place like that, but it was last month and I had already taken plenty of pictures of it. But Doyoung didn’t have to know that I was back to stalking again, especially not today, when I was so excited about my plan. Before going to the library, I grabbed a cup of coffee, Americano this time as I didn’t have in mind drinking it and it would’ve been a waste to buy Caramel Macchiato. By the time I got to the library it was nearing noon and I was hopeful that wherever Wonwoo went, he’d be back by today, otherwise, I did all of this for nothing. When I entered, the librarian gave me a glance and her eyebrows furrowed as they fell on my coffee, but I hid it behind my back and offered her a warm smile. She shook her head but didn’t say anything and I bowed my head, hurrying further inside. The coffee wasn’t hot anymore, but it was still warm, at least it wouldn’t burn him. I cleared my throat and took in a deep breath, about to round the corner and head to the reading area. My heart was pounding quickly in my chest and I feared that others would be able to hear it in the calming silence of the library. But as I rounded the corner, my mind went blank.

There he is.

I could feel excitement enter my whole body and my fingers started tapping quickly against the cup of coffee I was holding, I had to force myself to stay as still as I could and not take off towards Wonwoo. He was sitting at his usual spot, in the middle of the area and at the edge of the table. He had a book on the table in front of him, his glasses were close to falling off and his black hair was a bit messy. He was wearing a black t-shirt and a silver necklace hung around his neck. My eyes got glued to his muscly arms as he flipped the page and I gulped, trying to focus on my plan once again.

He is a sight for sore eyes, isn’t he, Y/N? No surprise you can’t handle the thought of someone else having him.

I shook my head a little and then started walking. My heels clicked against the wooden floor, but it was a dull sound, and thankfully Wonwoo didn’t look up. His eyebrows were furrowed as his eyes ran over the words in the book, and he sighed loudly as I got closer and closer. I glanced around, but there weren’t many people, and those who were, they were too busy studying or reading. Knowing that no one was looking my way, I knew what I was about to do wouldn’t look suspicious to anyone. I was two tables away from Wonwoo, and as I was watching him so closely, I noticed the sudden tensity of his muscles. How his palms clenched into fists and it almost looked like he was reading the same thing over and over, but I wouldn’t be actually able to tell that. My plan was to accidentally run into the corner of the table he was sitting at and spill the coffee on him. Like that, I had an excuse to talk to him and hopefully he’d even agree to me buying him a new shirt. I wasn’t able to decipher his personality as he was mostly by himself, but I prayed to every God out there that he’d comply to my wishes. And just as my eyes fixated on the corner of the table, to make sure that the front of my shoe would get stuck in it, Wonwoo abruptly stood up. And I jumped and panicked. The sound his chair made was loud and I lost all train of thought as his eyes fell on me and the heel of my shoe got stuck in the edge of the carpet. And suddenly, I was falling forward, eyes widened in horror. Wonwoo didn’t even blink, he just stood there, looking almost taken aback. And then our bodies collided into each other, and I felt the warm coffee spill not just on his chest, but on my own too. I gasped loudly, Wonwoo remained silent and suddenly I felt the eyes of the people who were around us, on us. Wonwoo was tense as he quickly gripped my forearms to steady me, the empty cup of coffee fell against the ground and I felt like it made the loudest sound I have ever heard. But in reality, it barely even made a thudding sound. My eyes remained wide, heart beating fast as I remained rooted in Wonwoo’s arms.

He smells so good. And his body is so firm. Do you hear how loud his breathing is, Y/N?

The evil voice made me shiver and I sprung out of Wonwoo’s hold, looking at him wide eyed. He looked frozen for a second, but then he lowered his arms, and gulped, glancing down at his damp t-shirt.

“Oh my God,” I muttered, looking down at my own damp shirt, this didn’t go as planned, he was the only one supposed to get coffee spilled on, “I am so sorry!”

My voice was quiet as I tried not to disturb the other people in there and Wonwoo finally looked at me. His sharp eyes offered no warmness and suddenly I felt small under his intense gaze. I felt embarrassed and as if I was caught in the act, but it’s him who stood up. This was supposed to happen differently.

“At least it wasn’t burning hot.” Wonwoo’s deep voice reached my ears and I did everything I could to memorize the deep vibration of it.

“Yeah, I got it a while ago…” I mumbled and looked down embarrassed, unable to maintain his intense eye contact.

“Accidents happen,” I could see him shrug as he ran his hands down his abdomen, “And it’s my fault, I was the one who stood up so abruptly—”

“Oh, no—” I looked up and shook my hands quickly, “I shouldn’t have walked so close to the table, it’s really my fault—”

“Don’t worry about it,” His lips pulled into a small smirk and I knew I was going to blush, “I’m not mad at you.”

My cheeks were hot and I felt at a loss of words all of a sudden, almost forgetting why I even planned on doing this.

“I feel guilty though—” I managed to get out, trying to avoid looking at his lips, “Let me make up for it!”

Someone towards the back of the reading area cleared their throat and I realized I was starting to speak too loudly; my leg was tapping against the wooden floor anxiously. I wanted to insist, but I didn’t know what to say next. I needed Wonwoo to co-operate, but I wasn’t sure he would just yet. His expression didn’t give away anything and I bit my lower lip nervously.

“How can you make up for it?” His eyebrows rose and my heart jumped in my chest.

“Uhm, I—I can just, uh—buy you a new shirt?” I hated myself for stuttering, but this was more nerve wrecking than I remembered it being. Has it been really that long since I’ve done this?

“I have plenty of shirts…” Wonwoo’s deep voice made me look back at him and I tried to stay calm. I couldn’t decipher his expression, but he looked like he was teasing me. I smiled softly and played with my fingers, glancing away from him before looking back.

“The mall is literally across the road…and…if you let me buy you this shirt, you’ll never forget that a stranger spilled their coffee on you on a very nice Wednesday…” Suddenly, all tension left my body when a wide smile appeared on Wonwoo’s lips. For the first time, I noticed how his nose scrunched up when he smiled, and how soft he seemed like this. When Wonwoo smiled, he wasn’t intimidating anymore, it was as if I was looking at a different person. My heart started beating quickly again and I felt at peace as I gaped at him, hopeful that he didn’t find it creepy. If only he knew…

“You might need a new shirt as well…” Wonwoo said once he was done laughing and I looked down at my shirt, eyebrows furrowing. Well yeah…that wasn’t part of the plan.

“If you insist.” I said with a shrug and Wonwoo chuckled, shaking his head.

“I’ll put this book back and then we can go.” Wonwoo said as he closed the book he was reading and picked it up from the table. He gave me a glance before he turned and walked towards the tall bookshelves, disappearing between them. I bit my lower lip, trying to contain my victorious smirk in case Wonwoo returned. I remembered the abandoned cup and turned around to pick it up, chuckling to myself. My plan didn’t work, but worked at the same time. It played out a little different than what I had in mind, but in the end, I still got what I wanted.

“Let’s go?” I turned my head and Wonwoo was by my side, eyebrows raised as his eyes fell on the empty cup. I nodded my head and we took off towards the mall from across the road, about to buy some new shirts.

Once we got to the mall I made Wonwoo choose a shop he likes and I’d buy him a t-shirt from there, only if he likes it, of course. In the end, he lead us to the cheapest shop and said that I should choose something for myself as well and he’ll buy it, because it was his fault too that the coffee was spilled as he got in my way. When he pointed towards the shop and said that he wanted to choose from that one, I gave him a look.

“Are you sure?” I asked as I followed after him, “Because I might look poor, but I’m not. So, if you want to wear something fancy, I totally can get it for you—”

“I don’t need anything fancy.” Wonwoo interrupted with a chuckle and I shrugged, walking inside the shop.

“Well, good for you then.” I muttered, looking around. To the left was the men section and to the right the women section, I pointed towards the men section, “Let’s go.”

Without thinking, I grabbed his wrist and noticed how warm his skin was against mine. I didn’t realize it was inappropriate to hold someone you just met, let alone drag him after you. But I was too happy that my plan actually worked out and that he didn’t recognize me at all. Even though he’s seen me twice before.

What if you aren’t remarkable enough? You could get Hyemi instead of Wonwoo, since he doesn’t even remember your face.

I shook my head and stopped in front of racks of various colored t-shirt and simple shirts, “Well, choose one!”

Wonwoo came to stand next to me and his eyebrows furrowed a little bit as he started moving the racks with his left hand. My right leg was tapping against the ground as I looked at his profile. His jaw was sharp and lips jutting out as he tried to choose one. Suddenly, I became aware of the hold I had on his wrist still and released it, clearing my throat awkwardly. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and looked ahead when Wonwoo glanced at me. I could feel my cheeks burning in embarrassment, but from the corner of my eyes I could see him smirking. It made my leg tap faster against the floor and I wished that something would happen that would save me from the embarrassment I was currently feeling.

“This one will do.” He suddenly spoke up, as if he could read my thoughts, and I turned to look at him. He was holding an almost identic t-shirt to the one he was wearing, except this one had longer sleeves. My eyes lingered on it before I gave him an affirming nod, and Wonwoo smiled.

“Your turn.” This time, he grabbed my wrist and started pulling me towards the women section. My heart suddenly picked up its pace and my free hand turned into a fist as I tried to contain my wide grin once again. His grip felt like it was on fire and burned away on my skin, but I was enjoying it, it was a nice feeling. He released me though the second we got to the shirts and I didn’t even look, just picked up a brown see through shirt.

“This one!” I exclaimed and grinned at Wonwoo, holding up the shirt. His eyes fell on it and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you sure?” He asked and I could almost hear a certain discomfort in his tone, but I thought I was just making things up. So, I just nodded my head with a wide smile and Wonwoo sighed, pointing towards the changing rooms.

“Let’s change then.”

“Shouldn’t we pay first?” I asked surprised as Wonwoo took off.

“No, take the tag off, we can still pay.” My eyebrows furrowed at Wonwoo’s words but I didn’t say anything as I went inside a cabin and quickly changed into the shirt I picked. Once I was dressed, I gulped. Well, I certainly should have looked first at what I was picking out, you could see my black bra through the material. And it was a bit too thin for this weather, but if we stayed inside the mall for longer I wouldn’t be bothered. And my car was around the corner, hopefully I wouldn’t catch a cold. I pulled the curtain back and my eyes fell on Wonwoo who was leaning against the wall casually. He was wearing black jeans and black combat boots. The t-shirt he picked was tight around his chest and I couldn’t look away. It was a mouthwatering sight and I gulped, snapping out of it. But the silence stretched on for longer as Wonwoo continued looking at me with an unreadable expression, jaw just a little tight. He kept his eyes on my face, but I didn’t miss the split second they lowered towards my see-through shirt. It made me fidget as I cleared my throat.

“Let’s—let’s pay!” I quickly hurried past Wonwoo, feeling embarrassed for the nth time today. I could hear a deep chuckle behind me, but I ignored it and approached the front desk.

“Hi, we bought these two shirts we are wearing, the tags are here—” I started speaking as I placed the tags on the counter.

“I’m sorry Miss, that’s against the rules.” The cashier very rudely interrupted and gave me a glare.

“Uhm…we still intend to pay though…”

“It’s still against the rules to do that, I have to call security—”

“Maybe you should just scan the tags and proceed on with your life, Kelly.” Wonwoo’s deep voice boomed next to me and I looked at him, his jaw was clenched and he was glaring at the cashier, whose name was Kelly. She seemed to shrink a little under Wonwoo’s gaze and she hesitated for a second, but then scanned in the tags.

“We are paying separately.” Wonwoo proceeded to say when he saw that she put the shirts on the same bill and Kelly apologized quickly. I looked at Wonwoo, eyebrows furrowed at the sudden change in his attitude. He looked stern and demanding, I probably would’ve done instantly what he told me, if he looked at me like that. This is how I imagined Wonwoo’s personality to be like, yet it didn’t sit well with me. Something felt off about his attitude, this wasn’t the first time he was being like this. And it was very obvious that he knew what effect it would have on the one targeted.

“Here.” The girl muttered once she handed Wonwoo the change back and then it was my turn to pay, which went by quickly as both of us were trying to move quickly under Wonwoo’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Uh, bye!” I called out as Wonwoo and I walked out with a bag each and our stained shirts inside them. I stopped walking once we were out of the shop and Wonwoo stopped too, looking back at me confused.

“Something wrong?” He asked confused and I shook my head.

“Not at all…I’m just glad we are even now…” I shrugged and he nodded with a hum, looking around. I tried to shrug off the sudden uncertainty I was feeling. Wonwoo didn’t seem as safe anymore as I had imagined him to be.

“Do you want to grab some lunch?” My heart jumped into my throat instantly and my mind went blank. How do I answer that question? That was definitely not what I had planned, but it was turning even better. But I couldn’t, I felt like it would be too much. Yes, I wanted to get to know him, but I already felt like an intruder. This happened only because of me, I didn’t want Wonwoo to feel like he had to do this. And I wanted to sort out my thought first and analyze our interaction.

“I would love to, but I have to help out my brother.” I lied through my teeth, with a smile on my face.

“Ah…” He nodded and neared me, I felt small under his strong gaze. It looked like he was looking right into my soul, reading my mind. It gave me the impression that he knew I was lying, “You don’t have to feel guilty for spilling the coffee on me, I told you, accidents happen.”

“I know!” I laughed nervously, my leg tapping against the ground once again, “I feel like I should wash that t-shirt…to actually stop feeling guilty…”

And that was the second stage of my plan. Get him to give me his t-shirt so that I can wash it, that way I get his phone number and I have an excuse to meet up with him again. Wonwoo’s eyebrows rose at my words and he chuckled, reaching inside his bag for without saying anything.

“Here.” He said and handed me his stained t-shirt.

“Really?” I asked gaping and he chuckled as I took it from him, “I thought you’d be against it…”

“I’m not,” He said with a casual shrug and then fished his phone out of his pocket, “I’ll need your number in order to get back my t-shirt…unless you’re a t-shirt thief.”

I started laughing as I took his unlocked phone and typed in my phone number, trying to hide the tremble of my fingers, “Shhh, no one knows.”

I winked as I handed him back his phone with my number saved and Wonwoo chuckled, ringing me. That way I had his number too, which I would save the second I got to my car. And then, he took another step and I was taken aback by the closeness between us.

“Tell me…” He muttered, his voice deep and I gulped nervously, “Have we met before?”

He knows, Y/N.

I froze up for a second, looking at him with my jaw having fallen open, “What? I—I don’t think—where—You know, maybe at the library—No! We have never met before!”

I knew I fucked up with my stuttering and the way Wonwoo suddenly started smirking like he was proud of himself for making me react like that. Maybe he really does know and the voices aren’t wrong.

“You go to the library often?”

“Lately, yeah.” I cleared my throat and stepped back, acting like I was looking at the shop behind Wonwoo.

“I see.” He nodded and then stepped back too, holding his hand out, “We haven’t introduced ourselves, I’m Wonwoo.”

My eyebrows rose as I realized we really didn’t, even though I already knew his name. Thank God it didn’t slip from my lips, that would’ve been really bad.

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you!” I smiled at him widely and shook his head excited, trying to ignore how hot his hand was once again. His grip was firm and I decided to ignore how our hands touched for a little bit longer than they were supposed to.

“Nice to meet you too.” Wonwoo chuckled and we let go of each other’s hands finally.

“I have to go now…” I pointed behind me and Wonwoo gave me a nod and a small wave, “Bye!”

“See you soon, Y/N.” I shivered at how low his tone got and quickly hurried away, feeling embarrassed, excited, nervous and confused by the vibes he was giving me. Why is it that I feel like there’s something going on with him?

I was eager to get home after the day I had, ready to get lost in my thoughts and analyze every little detail about the exchange between Wonwoo and I. I even considered texting him, but I didn’t want to come off as creepy, or give him the wrong impression. If I wanted things to work out, I had to be smooth and careful about everything I said and did. As I parked my car in its usual place, I noticed how the lights were on inside the house and realized Doyoung was already home. Doyoung was home early! I quickly got out of the car and locked it, almost running to get inside the house faster. It was rare that Doyoung was home before nightfall and I missed spending time with him and going out with him. We haven’t gone on a run together in a long time and I was hoping that Doyoung was up to it. I knocked on the front door first to let Doyoung know that it was me, and then pushed the door open and walked inside.

“Doyoung!” I shrieked, seeing that he wasn’t in the living room nor kitchen, “Hi!”

Doyoung didn’t answer right away and as I closed the door behind me and locked it, I heard the water running in the bathroom. Doyoung was washing up, so I walked to my room and changed out of my clothes and wore something comfortable. I quickly removed my makeup and sighed as I pulled my hair in a low bun, feeling at ease once again. I opened my window to let in some fresh air and as I was about to walk away, I noticed the white lilies on the windowsill. I chuckled at Doyoung’s creativeness and picked them up, taking them inside with me. It was smart of him, to be honest. He parked his car behind the backyard, where the wall of my bedroom was too. So, in order to get to the front of the house he’d have to pass by my windows and that would explain how he was able to sneak in the flowers inside my room without me seeing them. But as I held the lilies, I realized that there were ten pieces this time and I bit my lower lip as a wide smile spread onto my lips. I glanced at the bag that contained the shirts that got coffee spilled on them and I walked up to it, grabbing Wonwoo’s t-shirt. I took it in my hands and, having placed the lilies on my bed, and felt the soft fabric of the black t-shirt. It was bigger than my own torso as I held it against my frame and chuckled as I walked towards my mirror. So that’s what I would look like wearing Wonwoo’s shirts.

You look lovely, Y/N, we bet Wonwoo can’t wait to see you like this. If you proceed carefully, he’ll be yours in a blink of an eye.

I chuckled, letting the image the voices created linger in my mind. I brought the t-shirt up against my nose and reveled in Wonwoo’s cologne. It was masculine and it carried a musky scent and something that I have only felt on Doyoung, the smell of gunpowder. My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at the t-shirt, lowering it back inside the bag. Why would Wonwoo’s t-shirt smell like gunpowder? Does he go to the shooting ranges? Is it a hobby of his? No, if it was, I would’ve known already. But before I could dwell on it longer, the bathroom door closed and I jumped, taking the white lilies as I left my room.

“Y/N, are you home—”

“Doyoung!” I exclaimed and threw my arms around my brother, giving him a back hug. Doyoung chuckled and tapped my arms, softly peeling them off himself.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be home so early!” I said as I walked around him, wandering if we had any free vases for the lilies.

“I wasn’t either…” Doyoung muttered and I heard him sigh as I opened some cabinets until I found a blue vase. I smiled in victory and filled it with water, placing the lilies inside before putting the vase in the middle of the dining table. Doyoung was lounging on the couch with a frown on his face and as I looked at him, about to rant about my day, I realized something was wrong. He looked drained; his eyes even looked red.

“Doyoung…” I muttered with a frown and approached him slowly, arms hugging around my torso, “Are you okay?”

He looked up at me and tried to put on a smile, “Yeah! I’m fine—”

But his voice broke a little and I quickly sat next to him, throwing my arms around him as I pulled him into a tight hug.

“Hey, talk to me.” I whispered as I rubbed his back reassuringly. His arms went around me and he sighed loudly, sniffing.

“Well…I was sent home early because the higher ups are in meetings…” He sighed again and I just hummed as I waited patiently for him to continue.

“Sana was found dead this morning—” His voice broke again and I froze. Doyoung’s boss was dead? Who could have done such thing? And why?

“Oh, Doyoung, I’m so sorry…” I whispered, tightening my hold around him. He nodded his head and then rested his cheek against my shoulder. We remained silent as I tried offering comfort to my brother, knowing how much Sana’s death affected him. Not many liked Sana, sometimes even Doyoung hated her, but they spent a lot of time together. And inevitably they bonded, she still meant something to him.

“She was shot in the head once, it killed her instantly—” I wanted to tell him to stop thinking about it, to not tell me anything about her death, but he had to get it off his chest. And I was there to listen, I would always be there for Doyoung, no matter what he needed.

“There were signs of other altercations before her death…” Then he stopped for a second and scoffed, “She attacked a girl, Y/N, a simple, innocent, girl. She just—broke inside her apartment, trashed it and—and tried killing her? I don’t understand—”

“People do all sorts of things,” I interrupted Doyoung’s rambling, “You can never truly know what a person is capable of until it’s done.”

Doyoung sniffed again and then gently pulled back, rubbing his eyes. I let my hands rest in my lap as I watched my brother trying to pull himself together.

“She did it because of a guy—I don’t understand. She was obsessed with this—Kim Mingyu and she attacked Hyemi for being with him, I—” Doyoung shrugged and fell back against the couch, looking up at the white ceiling. My eyebrows furrowed as I watched my brother. Kim Mingyu? It’s the guy Wonwoo works for. Wait…does Wonwoo know anything about this? Why was he missing yesterday? Hyemi…it can’t be the girl from the bookstore, right?

“Is Hyemi alright?” I found myself asking quietly and Doyoung hummed.

“Her friends found her just in time, before she could get hurt seriously. But Sana…”

“She got what she deserved.” I couldn’t hold my words back and Doyoung’s head snapped in my direction, “She tried to kill Hyemi, Doyoung. And she was a cop. Attacked a simple civilian. I understand your pain and struggle but—”

“I know,” Doyoung offered me a reassuring smile and patted my hand, “but it’s very stressful. They want me to replace Sana.”

My eyes widened as I sat up straighter, “Wait…you’ll become head of police then…?”

Doyoung’s lips formed a thin line and he sighed, looking away from me, “I guess Kim Mingyu really does achieve whatever he wants…”

“Kim Mingyu?” My eyebrows furrowed as I looked at Doyoung once again confused hearing his name, “What does he have to do with this?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about that.” Doyoung quickly said and ran his fingers through his damp hair, “I just wanted to be the first one to tell you all of this, and not Mark.”

Before I could press more about who Kim Mingyu was, I froze and looked at Doyoung surprised, “Mark?”

“Yeah,” Doyoung gave me a small glare and it seemed like he was quick to repress the feelings towards Sana’s death, “I know about what you do with Mark.”

“I don’t do anything,” I shrugged defensively, “I don’t even know who that is!”

Doyoung scoffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest, “Please, you think people didn’t notice Mark’s sudden success this year? Everyone knew he was close to getting fired, until he suddenly turned into this super detective he never was—”

“And how is that my fault?!” I exclaimed, unable to keep it inside anymore. My legs were bouncing quickly and I gave Doyoung a glare, “I wanted to help. I wanted to do something else besides running my blog and taking pictures of nature, alright? This is fun and exciting—”

“And fucking dangerous, Y/N!” Doyoung exclaimed, standing up as his eyebrows furrowed, “Do you have any idea who you even follow around? Gang leaders, mafia heads, powerful business men! These people are shady! If you were ever caught, I wouldn’t have been able to do anything—”

“I know!” I exclaimed and stood up too, feeling desperate for Doyoung to understand me, “But this helped! It really did, Mark offered me an escape, Doyoung. An escape from falling back into my old habits and stalking people. Ever since I started doing this, I—I had no tendencies to stalk others—” Besides the sudden infatuation I had with Wonwoo, but it would pass. I hoped that it would. I wanted Doyoung to be proud of me.

“You just need a good therapist, Y/N—” Doyoung’s words were triggering as my parents would say this often to me and I couldn’t control myself, I shoved him back. He stumbled a bit, taken aback by my sudden outburst. Until he realized what he said, and he turned pale.

“Thanks a lot, big brother.” I snapped and turned around, storming towards my room, “You know therapists did shit and never helped me! The medication only made feel worse after a while!”

“I didn’t mean to say that, I’m sorry—” Doyoung tried to apologize as he followed after me.

“Save it, okay?!” I entered my room and blocked Doyoung from coming inside, “I—I know I’m a burden to you. I hate being a burden. But I can’t live on my own, and I hate that. I want to offer you a normal life, but instead, I’m just hanging on your neck—and I don’t need you to remind me that!”

“That’s not true!” Doyoung looked offended by my words as his eyebrows furrowed, “You were never a burden to me. I love you and I want you with me, Y/N—”

I raised my palm to stop him from talking, “Stop, I don’t care. Thankfully, helping Mark out pays well and I’m close to having enough money to move out. Give me three more months, and I’ll be gone.”

“What?!” Doyoung’s face fell and he went to grab me, but I slammed the door shut quickly, “I don’t want you to leave! We moved in here together because we both wanted to! You can’t just leave—”

“Watch me!” I screamed and I heard Doyoung sigh loudly as I crossed my arms in front of my chest. This wasn’t the time to act childish nor to drop something like that on him, not when his boss just died and he was in grief. But I couldn’t help it, he pissed me off. He would never understand what I had to go through daily and therefore he had no rights to try and tell me what to do. What Mark offered me was a life saver and Doyoung would never understand how much it helped, right up until I met Wonwoo.

“Y/N, I’m sorry.” Doyoung said loudly and knocked on my door, but I quickly locked it. I knew he was sorry and he didn’t want to hurt me, but I needed time to get over his words. By tomorrow morning I would be fine, but I needed to be left alone tonight.

“Whatever!” I called out and rolled my eyes, “Don’t bring me any white lilies anymore!”

I waited for an answer but Doyoung remained silent and I really wanted to see his expression, was he mad that I told him that?

“What?” My eyebrows furrowed at his confused tone, “You’re the one who buys them daily—”

The rest of his words got swallowed by my loudness. My heart started thumping wildly as I unlocked the bedroom’s door in a hurry and threw it open, “What?!”

Doyoung’s eyebrows were furrowed too as we looked at each other confused, “You…aren’t the one buying the lilies?”

“And it’s not you who’s been giving them to me?” Doyoung and I seemed to realize what this meant at the same time and as I scampered to shut the window of my room closed and lock it, Doyoung hurried to take on some shoes as he turned on the lights outside around the house. He threw on a jacket and hurried outside as I remained shivering in the middle of the room. Goosebumps covered my skin as I remained staring at the flowers on my nightstand that I got yesterday. Who was giving me these flowers then? And why was this person breaking inside our house?

Aw, does our little Y/N have a secret admirer? Who could it be?

“No!” I shook my head and hurriedly shut all blinds in my room and then went around the house, shutting each one of them. Doyoung came inside looking distressed and ran a hand through his hair.

“I’ll talk to the boys, and they’ll start patrolling around the neighborhood. Tomorrow a search team will come and search the house for any foreign DNA, alright?” Doyoung spoke with a serious tone as he locked the front door and turned to look at me, “Nothing will happen, alright?”

“They have been breaking in for two weeks, Doyoung—” I bit my lower lip and started tapping my leg against the floor anxiously, “Do they want something from me?”

Doyoung walked up to me and held onto my shoulders, “We’ll catch them before they can do anything, yes?”

I sighed and nodded my head, looking around the house to see the white lilies everywhere. They made me feel sick to my stomach, so I walked past Doyoung to take the trash bin and started throwing all of them inside it, cursing under my breath. I should have known that it wasn’t Doyoung. I’m so stupid!

Sleeping was hard last night and after struggling for a while, I somehow fell asleep towards the morning hours. I didn’t have the energy to go and watch Wonwoo today, I was too paranoid to even wear headphones on my run. I kept glancing behind me, until I noticed the police car parked around the curb and two of Doyoung’s colleagues chatting as they had coffee in their hands. I quickly greeted them before running past them, deciding to change my running route out of fear that if someone indeed was watching would already know I would head that way and do something to me. Doyoung kept messaging me every half an hour and I got irritated so I told him to just watch the app where it showed him my location, and at least that made him stop. I was halfway down the path when my phone started buzzing in my back pocket, tickling my butt cheek. I stopped running and unzipped the pocket, taking my phone in my hand. My lungs were screaming for air and I had sweat a lot as I pushed myself in order to try and forget the whole stalker deal. But when my eyes fell on the caller ID, I felt excited.

“I hope you went on that vacation and enjoyed yourself,” Came Mark’s voice through the phone and I chuckled, still trying to catch my breath, “Because I’ve got a new job for you.”

I hummed and breathed loudly, waiting for Mark to continue.

“Am I…interrupting something?” His voice was hesitant and it made me laugh.

“Yeah, my run.” Mark chuckled and I turned around, walking back towards the house, “Tell me everything.”

“It’s a one-day job, but it’s very important. The names are Wen Junhui and Xu Minghao. I’ll send you the details in a message on your other number, delete it once you had it memorized.”

“What exactly will I have to look out for?” I wondered as I passed by the police car again, the officers were gone this time.

“Those two are planning a heist, just take pictures of each jewelry place they go inside and send them to me straight when you think it’s clear.” I pursed my lips and thought a little.

“Fine, but don’t say a word to Doyoung. He knows about us and he’s very mad.”

“I know,” Mark cleared his throat, sounding awkward, “He very much wants to fire me right now. Maybe you heard, but Sana is dead, so he’s the big boss now…”

“I know,” I muttered and walked down the street, looking around before crossing onto the other side, “Doyoung told me. Seems like she was nuts or something…”

“She had it coming,” Mark scoffed and it peaked my interest, “Anyone who works against or turns on Kim Mingyu ends up being dead.”

My eyebrows furrowed and I was about to ask who this man was, but Mark gasped, “Shit, your brother is coming—keep your eyes on your phone!”

He hung up and I sighed as I locked my phone, wondering if I would find anything about Kim Mingyu on the internet. Since Wonwoo worked for him, I’ve seen him a few times, his business seemed pretty serious. Lost in thought, I didn’t notice the guy approaching me and gasped when their shoulder collided with mine. I hissed and stopped, turning around to shout at them, but the person didn’t even acknowledge me.

“Asshole!” I shouted after them, noticing their hunched form. The person seemed tall and looked like he was trying to hide his actual height. I turned to walk when the scent hit me. Musk and gunpowder. I quickly turned around, but the man in the black clothes was already gone.

Was that your secret admirer?

I shivered and quickly ran the rest of the way home, only being around the corner. I quickly unlocked the gate and as I walked inside, my eyes fell on the white lilies that I threw in the dumpster this morning. I felt bad for them because they were very beautiful, but I didn’t want them inside the house anymore.

After showering and getting ready, I checked out Mark’s message and memorized the information quickly, deleting the message. I grabbed my laptop and put it inside my bag together with my camera as I pulled on my tennis shoes and left the house, locking everything after me. I had an hour until the targets would show up to the city center to check out all shops, so I decided to take a walk there, try to use up the energy that didn’t go away while I was running due to it being cut short. I let Doyoung know that I was going out and to an agglomerated area, so that he didn’t have to worry, besides he had the tracker on. I snapped a few pictures as I walked and reveled in the silence around me as I took the back streets, where less people walked. I wondered what Wonwoo was doing, and suddenly I felt bad that I didn’t follow him around today. He’d be at his work place right now, having already been to the gym earlier this morning after he dropped Hyemi off at work and bought his coffee. What was interesting about Wonwoo was that each time he ordered coffee, he bought something different. My phone dinged as I turned onto the main street, getting lost in the crowd of people as I opened my phone and almost shrieked when I saw whom the message was from.

From Wonwoo: Hey…I hope I’m not bothering you…I was just wondering when we could meet up? You know…to give me back my t-shirt.

I struggled for a second to hold the phone in both hands and also not walk into others as I typed back.

To Wonwoo: Hi! You’re not bothering me at all! I washed it this morning…so if the weather is nice, it’ll be totally dry by tomorrow! Is tomorrow good for you?

I was about to put my phone away, but Wonwoo started typing back instantly and soon came his answer.

From Wonwoo: I can’t tomorrow, I won’t be in town and will only get back late. The next day…is it good for you?

I looked around me, noticing that I was in the area Mark instructed me to. I noticed the first jewelry shop and found a bench right across from it, so I hurried to take a seat there.

To Wonwoo: Sure, at noon? We can have lunch, since I turned it down last time…

My heart was pounding in my chest as I waited for Wonwoo’s answer, which seemed to take ages, and in fact only took a few seconds.

From Wonwoo: Fine, but let’s go to a restaurant. The food is better than the one at the mall.

He wasn’t wrong, besides this was sounding an awful lot like a date. I giggled and looked around before typing back.

To Wonwoo: Tell me the location and time?

From Wonwoo: 1 o’clock, but I’ll pick you up. Give me your address.

I hesitated for a second, knowing better not to give away my address to a complete stranger. My parents warned me about bad people, and so did Doyoung numerous times…especially since he became a cop and had to work on many cases that ended badly due to naïve girls going on dates with guys from Tinder. But I didn’t meet Wonwoo on Tinder…and I’ve already been watching him for weeks, I know what he’s like.

Honestly, you would pass on an opportunity like this one, Y/N? Isn’t this what we’ve been working for? Getting Wonwoo? Why did you even bother if you’re about to refuse him?!

When I saw Wonwoo typing, I quickly sent him my address, scared that he thought I was about to refuse him after I was the one who proposed getting lunch.

From Wonwoo: Alright, I’ll be there then.

To Wonwoo: Can’t wait to see you!

I instantly regretted sending that, but it was no use deleting it as he had already read the message.

From Wonwoo: Me too.

I giggled again and as I looked up; I saw a black Ferrari pulling up. I quickly scrambled to get out my camera from my bag and turned it on at lightning speed. I snapped pictures as the targets got out of the car. They were the same guys from the pictures Mark sent me, Minghao and Junhui. Both dressed pretty fancy and I knew they were the targets. I remained seated as they walked inside the first jewelry shop and snapped a picture of it. They didn’t spend much time in, quickly headed to the next one. I followed them from the bench as long as I could, but as they started walking towards the end of the street, I had to move too to be able to catch them. My phone and Wonwoo were forgotten, but just as I got up from the bench, throwing my bag over my shoulder and camera in my hand, my phone buzzed. As the targets were still inside the shop, I quickly checked to see that I had another new message from Wonwoo.

From Wonwoo: What are you doing right now?

I paused a little bit, finding his wording a little weird, but shrugged it off. I looked up just as the targets walked out of the shop and placed my phone in my pocket, snapping pictures as they talked and looked around. I wasn’t afraid that they’d see me as there were lots of people around us, but it still felt like I was being watched. They didn’t move from that spot, so I quickly answered Wonwoo.

To Wonwoo: Nothing much, just working. You?

I looked up to see the targets moving across the street, headed to a simple gardening shop. What could they be doing there? I started quickly walking towards it and snapped a picture just as I passed by in front of it, hopeful that no one saw me. Especially the targets. Then they walked out and headed down the street, towards the bench I was sitting at previously. I trailed after them, keeping a good distance as I pretended to look around and snapped a few pictures of the things that were displayed in the windows, trying to act normal and as if I was a tourist. I felt my phone vibrating again, so I checked it with a sigh. This isn’t how I’m supposed to be doing my work.

From Wonwoo: Working too, waiting for my boss.

So Wonwoo was with Mingyu then, probably sitting in his red Mercedes, waiting for Mingyu to show up and order him around. I didn’t react to the text message as the targets started moving again, headed for the Ferrari they have arrived in. Hastily, I snapped a few more pictures of the car, getting the license plate, and once they sped off, I took a deep breath. Well, I wasn’t caught, so that was amazing. Now I just have to send Mark all the photos and then have some lunch, my stomach is screaming for food.

I found a nice restaurant just around the corner and sat at a table at the back, opening my laptop. I copied all pictures on it and then sent Mark everything through an e-mail before deleting everything off my camera and laptop. No traces of what I had done, perfect as always.

To Mark: Everything good?

From Mark: Perfect, thanks again. I’ll pay you later, wait around a little bit.

To Mark: Fine, I have to eat either way!

And then I put my phone away and ordered food, which thankfully came quickly, as I was really hungry. I bobbed my head to the songs played on the radio while I ate, my legs bouncing underneath the table, unable to sit still. Not that it was something unusual. I was slurping up the rest of the soup when Doyoung messaged me and told me he would be home early again and that he could pick me up if I wanted him to. But I couldn’t as Mark had to pay me still, so I told him that I wanted to stay out alone for a little bit longer. And after almost two hours of me sitting at the restaurant, Mark finally called me that he was in front of the gardening shop, waiting for me. Paying for the food and greeting the lady, I left the restaurant in a hurry, glad that Mark finally showed up. In truth, I wanted Doyoung to pick me up, but he was at home by now and I didn’t want to bother him. I would just take a cab as it was getting dark and I didn’t want to walk home anymore. The exchange between Mark and I was brief as usual and I quickly found a cab for myself. I got in and told the driver where to take me and got comfortable against the beige leather seats. I sighed and started tapping my thigh with my fingers, looking out the window at the bright billboards and lights of the city. We went past the first intersection, but traffic was getting bad as everyone was headed home or out to have fun, so we caught the next red light. The cab driver turned the volume of the radio up a bit as he started bobbing his head to the beat and I found myself tapping along it too; the song was catchy. Police car sirens could be heard in the distance, but it wasn’t something unusual. Then suddenly, there was a commotion a few cars behind us and as I twisted my neck to see what was happening, four figures in all black and masks covering their whole faces ran up to the car. The cab driver panicked and before he could lock the doors, his door was ripped open and he was pulled out. I jumped and opened my own door in a hurry, wanting to get out, but I couldn’t as all four doors of the cab were now ripped open and the four men jumped in. I got pushed into the middle by my head by the man on my right and squeezed there as I gripped my bag to my chest. All doors were shut closed and only the driver put on his seatbelt. Suddenly, he started reeving the engine and then crashed into the car in front of us. The car jolted and I gasped as I was sent forward, eyes wide as my heart pumped loudly. God damn it, I should have just accepted Doyoung’s offer and asked Mark to pay me tomorrow. The cab driver was holding onto his head and screaming for help as the sirens got closer and the driver started honking, trying to make space for us to pass. I remained silent and shocked, gripping onto my bag and hopeful that they wouldn’t do anything to me. They seemed too stressed about leaving and getting away from the approaching police.

“For fuck’s sake!” Suddenly the one in the passenger seat shouted, his voice raspy, as he threw his door open and got halfway out. And then a silver thing glinted in his hand and I made myself small as I knew he was about to pull the trigger. The gunshots were loud as people started screaming around, suddenly the cars in front of us started moving aside, the light had turned green too.

“Floor it!” The man to my left shouted and the one in the passenger seat hopped back in as the driver pressed the gas pedal and we were sent flying forward. I yelped and held onto the headrest of the passenger seat tightly, looking ahead. The driver was honking constantly until every car started moving out of the way and we were flying down the road, but the sirens were closer too. So close, that the red and blue lights could be seen from inside the car. My breathing started to pick up as my left leg was bouncing very fast, and I was trying to remain as calm as I could. It seemed like they didn’t want to bother with me, so if I remain silent, maybe nothing will happen to me. I might as well blindfold myself so that I know nothing about where they are taking me and then they can let me free as I haven’t seen their faces.

The light turned red in front of us, but the driver wasn’t paying any attention to the traffic lights as he was speeding and switching lanes frantically, even going into the opposite lanes, making me squeeze my eyes shut. If we were about to run into any car, I didn’t want to see it. My bouncing leg knocked into something and I opened one eyes, becoming aware that these criminals were holding black bags that seemed to be heavy. They must have robbed some place and now were running away, just fucking perfect that they chose this cab! I gasped again as the car was jerked to the right and I was sent into the person on my left, making them hiss. I was expecting a slap or them to scream at me, but they just gently adjusted me back into the middle seat, turning their head towards me as if they realized for the first time that I was in the car too. I could see their brown eyes, and they widened. Mine widened too out of fear and I quickly ducked my head, holding onto my bag tightly. By now, the police was full on chasing these criminals, they were right behind us and the car was jerked to the left this time.

“Fuck this shit car!” A very deep voice suddenly shouted, making me jump, “I can’t outrun the fucking police in this old ass piece of shit—”

“Calm down!” The man on my right snapped, voice tense and raised. My left leg was bouncing so fast that I was getting a cramp in my thigh, but I couldn’t stop, I was on the brink of passing out from how anxious I was feeling. I stopped breathing normally a long time ago and I even started sweating, if only someone would’ve rolled down a window…

“Where the fuck do I go if they are trailing us? I can’t lose them here!” The deep voiced man continued shouting and he honked again as the sirens seemed to become deafening. But the more I concentrated on his deep voice, the more familiar it became. My body felt like it was made out of rock already, but it seemed like I could tense up even more. My breath got cut off for a second as my head snapped up, my whole body sitting up straight. My eyes bore into the back of the driver’s head. I knew that voice, but it can’t be. My brain is just making up things, I’m under so much stress that I started making up things.

“Take the back streets!” The man from the passenger seat answered him, “Boss is waiting at the docks.”

“The docks are fucking half an hour away from here! Start shooting at their cars tires, you idiots!” The driver’s deep voice boomed in the car and I shivered as three windows were rolled down. The three men suddenly all had weapons in their hands and they started shooting at the police car that was speeding beside the cab. I remained staring at the driver as my brain was screaming at me that the voice belonged to Wonwoo. Suddenly, the guy looked in the rearview mirror and our gazes connected. My mouth fell open when I saw foxy eyes staring back at me with the intensity I was used to seeing from Wonwoo, their brown seemed to be even darker as I gaped at Wonwoo. This can’t be happening, no. This must be a joke. But Wonwoo’s eyes narrowed and he quickly looked back at the road, taking another sharp turn as the rest managed to get rid of that one police car, but at least three more were still chasing us. Suddenly, I felt my phone vibrating in my back pocket and I let go of my bag with one hand, only now noticing how badly I was shaking. I knew no one was paying attention to me, so I curled up into a ball and sneakily placed the phone against my ear after hitting the green button.

“Y/N?!” Doyoung’s voice was frantic and the sirens were even louder through the phone, “Why the hell are you in the car we are chasing—”

Suddenly, the phone was ripped from my hands and I shrieked, trying to reach for it, “Doyoung!”

But the guys on each of my side held me down and the man in the passenger’s seat had the phone against his ear.

“Listen here—” But he was cut off by Doyoung, I could hear him screaming through the phone, but I didn’t understand what he was saying as all I could hear were my own loud heart beats as I struggled against the men holding me. Finally, my flight or fight kicked in, and I chose to fight as I didn’t really have the opportunity to run. Only God knows what was about to happen, I wasn’t going to sit around anymore. I elbowed the man on my right in the stomach and he cried out loudly as I finally freed my right arm. The man on my left was very skinny, but despite that he was very strong and my arm was turning numb, that’s how hard he was squeezing me. I started fighting against him too, punched him in the face with my free hand, even though he tried dodging it. My left arm was free too and I lunged for the guy in the passenger seat, knowing that I’d kill all of us if I started choking Wonwoo. So instead, my hands went around the other guy’s neck from behind as I started squeezing, the words he was about to say to my brother dying away in his throat. My phone fell from his hand and he gripped my wrists, trying to claw at me with his nails, but he was wearing glows. I started squeezing even harder as Wonwoo started swerving the car around violently.

“Get a fucking grip on her!” He shouted as with his right hand he gripped my bicep and started yanking on my arm. I cried out in pain, trying to elbow him as suddenly hands around my waist and forearms were pulling me back harshly. The guy I was choking started fighting back too, probably close to passing out as his struggling became less and less. But these guys were very strong, and two were pulling me back while one was squeezing so hard on my bicep that it felt like someone was trying to rip my arm off, I had to let go of the guy in the passenger seat. He started coughing and wheezing loudly as he fell forward. I screamed as I was restrained, this time the guys were almost sitting on me to stop me from fighting back. Wonwoo looked at me through the rearview mirror and I knew that he knew I recognized him, his deadly glare made me still instantly. I was rooted against the leather seat as he reached for my phone and hit a button, no doubt calling my brother.

“You want your sister? You play along with me.” Was all he said before hanging up and throwing the phone back at me, hitting my knees as it fell onto the ground. The guys still held me tightly, even though I stopped struggling. The one in the front stopped coughing, but he was still leaned over, holding onto his head as he was breathing loudly. My lungs were rising and falling at an alarming pace as my legs started bouncing again. But then suddenly Wonwoo took a sharp U turn and the police cars stopped following us. The sirens stopped blaring, all you could see were the lights, lights that were getting farther away from us. Doyoung was getting farther away from me, he was in one of those cars! I bit my lower lip and tried to keep the thoughts about me dying out as for once in my life I focused on the voices.

Look at that, Y/N is having the most fun she’s ever head. Don’t worry, you won’t die. Wonwoo won’t kill you, he’s into you. And he probably knows that you know it’s him. Isn’t he just so hot? The way he screamed, the way he’s driving…and you thought he was boring?! His burning gaze makes you feel all sorts of ways, Y/N, admit it. Now calm down, you are getting out of this alive.

The voices weren’t helpful as they were rambling about Wonwoo, but I did take a deep breath and noticed that until I was zoned out, he stopped driving at a crazy speed. We were downtown, but nowhere close to the docks. Wonwoo pulled up into the parking lot of a poorly lit convenience store, where a police car was already there. But all lights were off and only one man was there, walking around the car anxiously. It was Doyoung and my heart almost jumped out of my chest when Wonwoo stopped the car just next to Doyoung’s police car. The doors were kicked open again and I jumped when the guy on my left held onto my bicep, Wonwoo squeezed me so hard that my whole arm was on fire, it would bruise so ugly. I was pulled out of the car, but not manhandled, as Doyoung came to a stop at the back of the car. The guy let go of me and I took two hurried steps, but someone blocked my path, and I ran into their hard chest. Musk and gunpowder. I didn’t look up at Wonwoo, only stared at his chest as I held my bag against my stomach, my whole-body trembling.

“Say a word to anyone about this, I know where you live and I won’t hesitate to find you.” His deep voice was low as he whispered to me, radiating anger. I bit my lower lip and said nothing as I knocked into him hard and walked past to get to Doyoung. He was quick to pull me into his arms and I clung onto him, telling myself that I was finally safe. It was silent as no one dared to say anything; Doyoung was so tense, he felt like I was hugging a rock.

“If you ever again put my sister into danger, I won’t hesitate to continue what Sana started. You’re lucky I’ve known Mingyu since we were kids, otherwise you’d be laying in jail for life right now.” Doyoung was so angry, his voice trembled and it even raised a few octaves as he spoke to the criminals. I couldn’t believe what he was saying. He was just letting them off like that? They were criminals!

“Your generosity will be always returned, you know that, Doyoung.” The guy I choked could barely speak, his voice was a low rasp and then I heard something colliding against the concrete. Doyoung moved us a little as car doors were closed and the engine of the cab started again as Wonwoo pulled out of the parking lot with the tires screeching. I let go of Doyoung and looked at him disappointed, lips trembling.

“You’re a corrupt cop?” I managed to say as a few tears fell from my eyes. He looked down at the bag and picked it up, remorse showing on his face.

“You weren’t supposed to find out, but it’s a complicated story—”

“Nothing about this is complicated!” I shouted, angrily wiping the tears off my cheeks, “You just let four criminals run off like nothing happened! Like I couldn’t have been killed in that chase or afterwards by them! If people like you are the ones protecting this city everyone should be afraid for their own lives!”

Doyoung’s face got red and he pointed a finger at me, “You don’t get to tell me what’s wrong and what’s right! I’m not perfect; you think you’re the only one with flaws, Y/N?! Wake up! I’m not the perfect brother you always make me out to be! Once you start working for the mafia there’s no way out—”

“You work for the mafia?!” I screamed, seeing Doyoung in a different light for the first time. He really wasn’t the person I thought he was. The innocent Doyoung never existed, at least not since he’s been working for the mafia apparently.

“No, but I help them out sometimes. Mingyu and I made a pact a long time ago—”

“Kim Mingyu is the mafia leader?”

“Yes—”

“Who is Jeon Wonwoo?” Doyoung paused for a second, eyebrows furrowing. I raised my eyebrows at him as I waited for an answer. Oh, and he was going to give me all the answers I wanted.

“A very skilled getaway driver, Mingyu’s closest and most trusted friend, and his chauffeur.” Doyoung answered me after he took a deep breath, searching my face for a reaction. But it never came, I surpassed it. I felt tired and I was aching all over, I need a warm bath and sleep. I didn’t even want to know anything anymore, that was enough.

“Let’s go home.” I said with a sigh and walked up to the police car, “I’m very tired.”

“Y/N—”

“Now, Doyoung.” I snapped and opened the door, sitting inside angrily. Doyoung shook his head before following suit, remaining silent for the rest of the night.

Isn’t Wonwoo just the most amazing person you’ve ever—Shut up, I shouted in my head, closing my eyes tightly. I was done listening to the voices. I wanted nothing to do with them anymore. No, Wonwoo was a criminal and he made it very clear what he’d do if I said anything about what happened. I was going to ask Mark to return that damned t-shirt to him and I never wanted to see Wonwoo again or talk to him again. I blocked his number and deleted all pictures I had of him in my phone. In the morning, when I was home alone, I was going to burn every single thing I had collected about him, every single picture I snapped. He was a criminal and I wanted nothing to do with him anymore.

Ever since last night Doyoung was acting like I was an alien. He didn’t speak to me; he didn’t even look at me! He quietly greeted me when I walked to the kitchen to have breakfast, but before I could thank him for making breakfast or ask him how he slept, he was out of the front door. He barely checked up on me all day, and when I gave him a call to ask him if he’d come home for lunch as I cooked food, he didn’t answer but sent a text saying that he couldn’t speak to me at the moment. It was pissing me off. I didn’t want him to make this harder for us. What I found out was a lot to take in and I wasn’t proud of him, but he was my brother and he was the only person who stood by my side since day one without judging me. I loved him very much and I needed him next to me. I needed him to understand that nothing changed between us, besides the fact that currently I was very pissed off and scared. The police were still patrolling around the neighborhood as no DNA was found inside the house that didn’t belong to us, and honestly, I was on the verge of inviting the officers inside the house as I jumped at every sound. Sleep came easily as I was very stressed, but my eyes opened at five in morning and I haven’t been able to go back to sleep, so I got to work. I gathered everything I had on Wonwoo and threw it in the fireplace in the back garden and watched it as it burned away in the morning light. It eased my nerves a little bit as I clutched the blanket tighter around me, knowing that Wonwoo was out of town today. But tomorrow he wouldn’t be, and I had a feeling that he was still going to want to meet up with me. But I didn’t want to, not anymore. Knowing that Mark wasn’t sleeping at that hour, I called him, and told him everything that happened. He was very sorry and felt really guilty and promised to never send me off to watch mafia members, I was content with that. Watching shady business men was alright, but following mafia members wasn’t fun anymore. I stayed inside the whole day after I went on my run and just cleaned and cooked even more. I updated my blog and accepted a request of someone to put up my photos in their gallery next month. Since Mark wasn’t going to contact me for a while now, I started looking for vacation destinations. I really needed it, I had to get away from the city for a while. The voices went quiet and even when I listened closely, I only heard intangible whispers. It was good, it meant I was over Wonwoo. Even if I wasn’t really. The fairytale I was living in was shattered and as I glanced at his folded t-shirt, I sighed. I was hoping that for once I finally found someone who would be good for me, but it turned out I was very wrong. Usually my hunches were good, but this time I was totally blinded by his attractiveness and the voices that never knew better. Shaking my head, I remembered the old lady from the woods and wondered if she was still alive…or if she’d recognize me if I showed up. She told me she’d welcome me anytime again, but I didn’t visit her very frequently as my family was keeping a close eye on me after I ran away, and it was fine. But now, I craved to be engulfed in total silence and the green nature around me.

Nightfall came and I was eating on the couch as I watched a reality show, laughing loudly when something was amusing. It wasn’t very late, but the sun still set early as we haven’t passed the spring solstice yet. I just bit into the meatball I made for lunch when the front door was unlocked and I heard Doyoung’s keys.

“Hi!” I called out with my mouth full, raising the hand with which I was holding the fork to wave at him. Doyoung hummed and went to the fridge directly and opened it.

“Oh, I made a lot of food today,” I said as I turned around, resting both legs on the couch, “Meatballs, found some spaghetti too so I made some sauce for it. I made a salad with the veggies we had and lentil cream soup, your favorite!”

But Doyoung didn’t react and my eyebrows furrowed as I chewed the food I had in my mouth. This had do end right now, I wasn’t going to let my brother treat me like I was invisible just because I found out that he’s a corrupt cop.

“Hey!” I snapped, placing the plate on the coffee table forcefully, “Stop being a pussy and face me!”

Doyoung sighed and threw a glance at me as he took out the soup and I spoke again, “Aren’t I the one supposed to be giving you the silent treatment?!”

Doyoung just shrugged as he took a bowl and poured soup into it, “I don’t know…”

“Nice to hear you are still able to speak—”

“Are you not mad?” Doyoung cut me off before I could finish my sarcastic remark and I glared at him.

“I’m very mad, but it doesn’t mean that I’ll stop acknowledging you, yeah? What kind of shit person does that?” I rolled my eyes and Doyoung chuckled, throwing a glance at me as he sat at the table to eat.

“The me kind of shit person apparently.” I chuckled and resumed eating as Doyoung did too. I lowered the volume of the TV a little bit and turned back towards him again, taking in his attire. His uniform changed; I didn’t notice it this morning.

“You have a new uniform?” I asked with a grin and Doyoung nodded, looking down at himself.

“Yeah, I got it today.” I nodded and bit into the meatball.

“Well, congratulations—next time lock the mafia guys up, yeah?” Doyoung paused and I knew it was too soon to joke about this, but I wasn’t exactly joking. My tone wasn’t playful at all and Doyoung sighed, wordlessly nodding as he started slurping his soup.

“Were you that hungry? You didn’t even change…” I wondered as Doyoung finished eating and stood up.

“No, but I have to go to the funeral house. It’s Sana’s watcher…” My lips formed a thin line as I nodded, finishing my dinner wordlessly as Doyoung moved around the kitchen. He squeezed some lemon in his water and drank it, closing his eyes for a second. His body seemed tense and he was hunched a little forward as he washed away the dishes he used.

“Don’t come too late, you should rest more.” I said as Doyoung nodded and put on his shoes, taking his keys.

“You too, don’t wait for me.” He said and I nodded, watching him leave the house. The locked the door and I sighed, getting up from the couch. I walked to the sink and washed the plate and fork I used, putting them away. I left the TV on as I just wanted to change into my pajamas and go back to watch something before bed. But as I reached my door, I heard footsteps outside the front door and knocking. Rolling my eyes, I walked to the front door and unlocked it, ready to tease Doyoung for forgetting something at home again. But it wasn’t Doyoung. I froze as I stared at Wonwoo’s face, goosebumps suddenly covering my body. Then I realized it was Wonwoo and quickly tried to slam the door closed, but Wonwoo was quick to react and he started pushing it back. I hissed and put all of my weight against it, struggling to close it as Wonwoo was pushing just as hard to open it up. I was wearing socks and my right leg slipped on the tiles and Wonwoo gained advantage as my weight shifted. He was able to push it wide enough to slip inside and I quickly abandoned the thought of trying to keep him out of the house and ran to the cupboard full of knives. I quickly opened it and took out the sharpest knife we had and turned around, just in time as Wonwoo almost reached me.

“Stay away!” I pointed the knife at him and he stayed rooted, his sharp eyes gazing into mine, “What do you want? I didn’t say anything to anyone—Doyoung already knew about you! You want your bloody t-shirt?! It’s in my room!”

Wonwoo remained silent and I jerked my hand slightly, showing him that I wasn’t afraid to stab him. I wouldn’t go down without a good fight, in case he thought I was scared of him. Which I was, but I was angrier right now and it ruled over my fear.

“I just came to talk.” Wonwoo said calmly and I chuckled dryly, rolling my eyes.

“Oh, nice talking. This is how you usually do it? You break into someone’s house and get threatened by a knife and then just…talk?”

“I usually don’t get threatened.” Wonwoo answered with a shrug and I huffed, eyes darting towards my phone that was on the coffee table. If I outsmart Wonwoo, I can get to my phone and run inside my room and jump out the window. Then he can try and talk to me, but I won’t be here anymore.

“Well…less stressful for you, I guess.” I tried stalling, gripping the knife tighter, “But I’m not in the mood to talk.”

“Just listen to me, I’m not here to hurt you.” Wonwoo’s voice softened and his eyes did too as he tried pleading me with his gaze. I rolled my eyes and then lunged towards him, without the intention of stabbing him. I just wanted to take him off guard, to distract him. And it worked as he jumped back with a gasp, his sharp eyes widening. I dropped the knife and pushed him hard, making him fall onto his butt. I quickly ran around him and got to the fridge when I was grabbed. Well, obviously my plan wasn’t a smart one and this is why Doyoung checked on me regularly. I really needed someone to look after me. I yelped as Wonwoo’s arms went around my waist and roughly yanked me back, pinning me against the table with his body. He didn’t look very pleased and my heart started beating quickly, thinking of a way to free myself from his grip. I could either kneel him or just try and headbutt him, but it seemed like Wonwoo guessed what I was thinking as his lean and muscular body molded into mine. My wrists were pinned to the table and I shivered, his cologne hitting my nose hard. He smelled like musk and gunpowder again and he was so close I could count his lashes if I wanted to. I craned my head back and tried to move around, but it only made me feel more parts of body and that was too much just yet.

Look at this compromising position, Y/N. All you have to do is lean in and open your knees, isn’t that what you’ve wanted all along? We are guessing Wonwoo wants the same thing…not that we are complaining.

I tried to remain unexpressive as the voices suddenly returned and were very loud, of course they’d come back in a situation like this one.

“Well, this is very uncomfortable.” I said quietly, maintaining the eye contact with Wonwoo. My heart was beating fast and I could feel the heat in my cheeks. This wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. Why do I still like him? After yesterday…how can I still like him?

“Well, you didn’t give me a choice.” Wonwoo muttered, his low voice vibrating against his chest and I rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, sure,” I scoffed and then glared at him, “why would I want to talk to a criminal? Let alone give him a chance to explain himself?”

“Did you let your brother explain himself?” Wonwoo’s eyebrows rose and I glanced away, trying to free my wrists again.

“Kind of…” Wonwoo just hummed and lessened his hold on my wrist so that it didn’t hurt anymore. The bicep he squeezed so hard was now a beautiful shade of green and purple.

“Then it’s my turn—”

“Whatever Wonwoo, I really don’t care. You’re part of the mafia and you robbed the jewelry shops Mark asked me to watch yesterday. And then you had to run away because Mark alerted the police thanks to me and then very sadly you got in the same cab with me. And look at my bicep, you did that.” I snapped, looking down at the bruise as Wonwoo’s gaze followed. His eyebrows furrowed and he sighed, looking back up at me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” He muttered with remorse as he looked at it again. His words and reaction were genuine but I just rolled my eyes.

“A little late for that, now—” I shoved myself into him, but it did nothing, “Let go of me.”

Wonwoo’s lips pulled in a straight line and he shook his head, seemingly thinking about what to do next. But I started struggling and trying to move him back so that I would be able to knee him. But he probably knew that was what I was trying to do and squeezed my legs together between his.

“God, the second I get out of your hold I will beat you up so badly, Wonwoo, no one will be able to recognize you—” Wonwoo’s deep laughter echoed in the house as I looked at him menacingly. I wasn’t joking, I really wanted to beat him up and I would, but I needed to free myself first.

“I love how you underestimate me; the shock will be bigger once I’m done—” But Wonwoo’s laughter was so contagious that I had to fight back my own. His nose was scrunched up and I just noticed how he wasn’t wearing glasses. His hair was styled back and he seemed to be wearing some fancy clothes, his pants were silky. He was very attractive, but I tried to ignore my sudden thirst for him. So, I looked away and he slowly stopped laughing, my eyes fell on the front door as I tried coming up with another escape route. But on the ground were five white lilies and I felt my mind go blank as I stared at them. There’s no possible way anyone brought those in, Doyoung and I never buy white lilies, and Wonwoo is the only one that just barged in. Wonwoo.

“Oh my God,” I muttered in despair, looking at Wonwoo all frantic, “Did you—bring those flowers? Wonwoo?!”

Wonwoo looked at the flowers and cleared his throat, looking back at me, “Yeah.”

“Oh my God.” I muttered again and felt like a deer caught in headlights. It was Wonwoo all along? What is happening? I don’t understand anything anymore!

Well…at least you found out who your secret admirer is. And it’s Wonwoo, you should be happy it’s him and not some old creep—

“Shut up!” I exclaimed, squeezing my eyes shut, “This can’t be happening. No fucking way.”

Wonwoo looked confused when I opened my eyes and looked at him, “You were breaking in our house for two weeks?!”

“You’re the one to make a scene, huh?” Wonwoo suddenly raised his voice and his eyes narrowed as he started glaring at me, “You’ve been stalking me for two weeks.”

I gaped at him and blinked, taken off guard, “I—I wasn’t—what?”

“Yeah, you really thought I wouldn’t know?” He chuckled unamused, “I’m surprised it took you this long to realize it was me bringing the flowers.”

My eyebrows furrowed and I looked at him confused, “How was I supposed to know?! I thought you had no idea I was watching you—”

“Stalking me.”

“Stalking you, whatever,” I rolled my eyes, trying to make sense of the situation, “It doesn’t give you the right to break in my room and—were you marking your territory or some shit mafias do? Were you showing other mafias that you were to be the one to kill me—”

“What nonsense are you talking about?” Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrowed and I tried to push him away again, my back was becoming numb, “You fantasize too much. Mafias don’t do that, but—”

“But what?!” I snapped, eyes widening.

“I did think of killing you in the first three days of you stalking me.” Wonwoo finished with a smirk. My heart skipped another beat as I started breathing faster, his musky scent made me feel dizzy.

“What?!” I exclaimed and started struggling against Wonwoo again, trying to free myself, “For God’s sake, I can’t feel my back anymore, Wonwoo!”

He gave me a look that said if I tried running away again he’d tie me to a chair and leave me there until Doyoung returned, he probably would’ve gagged me too, so I just sighed and let go of all muscles, softening my body. Wonwoo’s eyes gazed into mine intently and his hold slowly loosened as he seemed to lean in subconsciously. My eyes fell onto his lips and realized how plump his upper lip was, but we both snapped out if at the same time as he stepped back and I jumped away from the table, breathing hard. I massaged my lower back as best as I could as I licked my lips and looked at Wonwoo with a glare.

“I don’t like what I’m about to say—” And I took a deep breath and watched as Wonwoo started smirking again, “But what if…we both just forget about all the shit we did and…go on and live our lives like we never met. And, I don’t know, get some therapy as we both apparently need it badly.”

My words made Wonwoo laugh again and I actually smiled this time too, feeling tired after all the new information dumped on me.

“I can’t do that,” Wonwoo said once his laughter died down, “I can’t continue living like I never met you.”

I shrugged and ran my hands through my hair, looking away from him, “Well, I can and I will. So, you better do the same or else I’ll tell Doyoung about everything and he’ll be really pissed and won’t care about Mingyu or whoever, yeah?”

Look at our Y/N lying like that, as if all of this didn’t happen because of her.

I felt Wonwoo move closer to me and his fingers ghosted over the bruise on my left bicep, “Can you really pretend I don’t exist? When you started this?”

“I didn’t start shit!” I snapped and turned my body away from his, “I stalked you for two weeks and I won’t do it anymore because I got over you. I always do. It never lasts for long, you’re not special.”

But he is Y/N, you know it. He knows it.

“Really?” Wonwoo muttered with a small smile and I just shrugged, avoiding his gaze, “Because I watched you the whole time we were in the same Coffee Shop. You were following that businessman, working for Mark, I assume. I noticed how you couldn’t stay still and how you whispered things to yourself. How the barista lit up when she saw you and talked to you. If you wouldn’t have stalked me after that day, I would’ve still found you.”

I just gulped and felt all the anger, frustration, fear melt away as I slowly looked at Wonwoo, “But you broke inside my bedroom…to give me flowers…”

My voice was small and he nodded as he stepped closer, placing his palm on my cheek. I almost jumped at how warm his palm was again and tried to ignore the rapid beat of my heart, “And I was wrong to do that…sorry.”

“Sorry for stalking you.” I muttered and a small grin appeared on Wonwoo’s lips as he closed the distance between our bodies again.

“I’m also sorry for the other bad things I did.” Wonwoo added.

“Yeah, fuck you.” I said with a chuckle and his grin widened into a smile.

You’d love that, wouldn’t you, Y/N?

I rolled my eyes at the voices but Wonwoo didn’t react as he leaned down and his red lips pressed against my cheek, making me blush instantly. Why did I forgive him so easily? Maybe because both of us fucked up big time this time.

“I still expect to see you tomorrow at lunch for our date, so tell Mark to stay at home.” My eyes widened as Wonwoo stepped back, letting go of my cheek.

“How do you know—”

“I’m in the mafia, remember? I know everything.” He winked and walked towards the front door.

“And you called me the stalker.” He chuckled as he opened the door and stepped outside.

“Don’t tell Doyoung just yet, he’s very mad for what I did yesterday—”

“Yeah, me too.” I cut him off and Wonwoo gave me an apologetic smile.

“Sleep well.”

“Don’t break in my room anymore!” I called out as he walked down towards the gate, turning around to wave at me. I rolled my eyes and closed the front door, locking it. Jesus, this really is not how I expected things to turn out. I don’t think I need to watch any TV to feel sleepy. This is my cue to rest and worry about what to wear tomorrow for lunch.

You can wear whatever, Wonwoo is head over heels for you, Y/N. And as we’re seeing, you’re too for him.

204 notes · View notes

ruvatia · 3 years

Note

Sorry if this is a bit much with everything going on, but could I request a scenario where the Paladins + Matt & Lotor have a black s/o and they’re scared abt everything that’s happening in their country and are sad that racial injustice is happening? I’ve been rlly worried the past few days, but if this is smth too uncomfy I understand ;w; Thank you 💖💖💖

This got really long, I apologize but I turned it into half-headcanons with just the main paladins-- i apologize for not doing all the characters you’ve mentioned, but I don’t think they would fit all in a single post anyways www

On another note I hope you and every other reader take good care of their mental health; it’s important to be aware of what’s going on but it’s also important to be in the right mindspace to be able to tackle everything that’s being shared. It’s pain that’s been boiling for a very long time and there is absolutely no shame in taking some downtime to recover before heading back into current issues.

SHIRO:

If you were saddened, Shiro would suggest that maybe you switch to something else; if there was something that he knows will distract you and temporarily have you be a little more at ease, he’d do that!

But also maybe add a little twist-- extra soft blankets (fresh out of the oven! Screw the bills you’re worth it), extra cheese on your favorite dish, whatever it is that can make your smile a little wider, bigger or brighter just let him know!

Would give you hugs if you asked, but usually Shiro pets your head and brushes your cheek for comfort

He also does this when he wants to ask something of you, but thats another story

Why the TV was still on was a mystery to you, you’d stopped listening a long time ago. Your partner besides you noticed, and you felt the hand around your shoulder tighten his grip a little, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Hey, maybe we should watch something else?” he asked softly, brushing your cheek with his hand. “I can’t really listen to this anymore.”

“Yeah… Sure.” you replied, though it felt like an automated response more than your actual opinion.

“Okay, I’ll switch to that weird show Pidge recorded the other day, we agreed to watch it, right?” he replied, quickly grabbing the remote to change the program.

The first episode started playing, but the moment that it did, you felt cold as Shiro left your side.

“Where are you going?” you asked, your interlaced fingers the only thing keeping him close.

“Ah, I thought I’d make us something. We both kinda skipped dinner….”

He’d thought about putting something together that you’d like, maybe order dessert to surprise you but seeing the look on your face, leaving your side was the hardest thing to do right now.

So he gave in, and your both fell asleep until the doorbell rang with your delivery.

KEITH:

I have this headcanon that Keith isn’t very good with physical touch but after the end of voltron and after enough time of humanitarian relief, he learns how important it is for someone that’s in a specific state of mind

So the best he has to offer when his words fail is physical touch

Over your time together he’s learned what you need depending on your mood, and it helped him out lots when you were more vocal about it-- if anything he liked it when you asked for things that he could easily deliver, he’d do anything to see you smile

A hand came over your phone screen, Keith’s fingers lacing into yours and making you drop the device onto the crevices of the sofa.

“Why did you--”

“You’ve been staring at that thing for the past hour, biting at your nails.” he said in a worried tone. “That’s enough. We’re going to bed.”

“But it’s just--”

“We’re going to bed.” he repeated in a harsher tone, lifting you off your seat.

Keith sat down onto the bed first, pulling you into him. You both fell onto the bed, Keith quickly pulling the covers over your shoulders before his arms came around you.

“My alarm is my phone.”

“That’s nice, but we both know we have nothing to do tomorrow.” he replied right away, making you chuckle.

“Keith…” you called, your hands sneaking up to his face.

You brushed away some of his hair from his face as he gave you a complicated expression, unable to reflect the small smile you wore. He knew things were shit outside, that being apart from your family and other loved ones was a toll on both you and that lately negative thoughts have plagued you more often than not but Keith, despite his good intention was still somewhat of an awkward man.

“Thank you.”

He kissed you in reply and you both left it at that, glad that he had someone like you to meet him halfway.

LANCE:

Lots of hugs the moment he feels something is off with you

Will be a brat™ for the sole purpose of distracting you, bET

I feel like post-series Lance tries his best to be as observant as Allura and tries to understand others better-- but it didn't take a genius or incredible empath to know why your eyes looked like they were about to overflow at the sight of the news.

I’d like to think that Lance, with a big connected family is one of the paladins that very easily gets what you’re going through, wouldn’t be surprised he’s been called one or two things in his past either

That being said it doesn’t mean that he completely understands your personalized struggles with racial injustices that you encounter everyday; as another minority himself + coming from a culture and upbringing that might be different than yours, its a very different experience.

Memories flooded as the news anchor spoke about “lootings” and as you scrolled down your feed to see feeble attempts at sympathy from local peacekeepers. You sigh and retweet another thread, only to find something equally as shocking right after. You stopped commenting in quote retweets a while ago, you felt like you were constantly repeating that none of this was okay and that a reform was desperately needed. Rather than typing out your thoughts you typed out your name, address and email over and over again, signing one petition after the other.

Hearing sigh after sigh, Lance eventually put an arm around your shoulder. He startled you, but his soft voice made both your shoulders and your guard lower.

“Hey, do you want to make a midnight snack with me? I’m getting kinda hungry.”

“What about that new rule we were talking about? Not eating 4 hours before we went to bed?”

“Every diet has one or two cheat days, don’t they?” he replied, kissing one of your eyelids. “Come on, I’m sure your neck is sore from being like that for so long.”

In the end you both made some soul-food until a food-coma knocked you out until tomorrow. In the morning, you realized that Lance must’ve woken up in the middle of the night because you remember cuddling on the couch, and yet you’re waking up on the bed. Of course, still in his arms.

HUNK:

Having a sensible heart, I feel like both you and hunk would struggle a little about maintaining a healthy distance with current events.

Though overtime he would understand that keeping in touch with everything that’s going on is important, but not at the sake of burning out

His best bet, to him, to pull you out of a such a dark space is with comfort food

“Ok ppl feel like they want to eat a horse but they actually cant when they’re in that mind space Hunk, let’s make something sweet and small; something direct and straight to the point! Let’s add smiley faces on it!”

Your turned down the volume from the news, let your head fall backwards and brought up your forearm over your closed eyes. It felt warm and made it you realize that you had probably been staring very intensely at the screen as a wave of comfort hit your eyes the moment they were drowned in darkness. Letting out a deep breath, you stilled and let yourself bask in your thoughts until a familiar voice brought you back.

“Maybe a little bit more sugar? No, then it would be disbalanced. The base is already so sweet-- Ah, I have to take the cupcakes out or else they might get burned!”

You felt a smile grow on your lips, making you ignore the horrid news being broadcasted to turn to your partner that as usual, seemed to juggle ten thousand things to create a whole meal.

“What’s going on over here?” you asked, leaning over the counter to note that one of your favorite dishes was made and machines that were mostly used for baking had been brought out.

“Oh you know, just a little pick me up for my most favorite person ever.” he shrugged, but a smile soon came to his face. His hands were full but he leaned over, his lips meeting your cheek. “Things outside are a little dark, so I thought we could both use a little something nice.”

He turned on the machine after dropping a drop of dye to make it your favorite color and within a few minutes the icing was finished. Hunk scooped up a small amount on his finger and brought it to his lips and nod.

“Wanna taste?” he asked you, his finger dipping into the icing.

A mischievous grin spread on your features as you took his wrist and let his finger fall on your tongue, the sweetness quickly spreading through your mouth. The yellow paladin shivered as you let his digit hang in your mouth for longer than necessary, letting out a satisfied hum when you returned it to him.

“Tastes perfect.”

PIDGE:

She knew what could be fixed, she knew how to fix it but this meant she was also aware of how long such a transition would take

I think Pidge would be similar to Shiro: whatever she remembers that helps you be at ease, she would defect to that in hopes to maybe distract you for a while.

I don’t think Pidge is a very touchy person either, so if she reaches out to you _physically_ in worry, it’s a very clear sign she’s serious/anxious

I feel like she would reach out in other ways and then if she knew you were in a specific state of mind where touch was not useful, or if she just also wanted to try things out lol

As you watched the twisted information that was being shared on screen, another message caught your attention. Rather than a small red icon in the corner, a small window appeared in the middle of your computer screen.

The video had stopped, every horrible gif about police brutality was paused and there was nothing else but the small window pidge had thrown onto your screen. You chuckled, and felt a pressure behind your working chair.

Another message popped up.

<You’ve been catching up with twitter for the past two hours. Surely you’re done now?>

A soft laugh came from you, making Pidge release a breath she didn’t know she was holding. You typed out an answer:

<Okay, but half of them are just cat videos and the other half are just retweets of said videos.>

You both laughed, before Pidge turned around and tapped your shoulder. She let her hand float in the air, yours coming to join it as a soon as your turned her way.

“Wanna take a nap?” she asked, letting her head fall onto your shoulder. “I had Chip make some hot chocolate, Hunk style.”

You squeezed her hand, putting your computer on sleep mode.

“Yeah, that sounds nice.”

#voltron writings #shiro x reader #takashi shirogane x reader #keith x reader #keith kogane x reader #lance x reader #lance mcclain x reader #hunk x reader #hunk garett x reader #pidge x reader #katie holt x reader #for context this was requested around june 2020 #its a year late and thata my fault wjdjan

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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years

Text

Ivy

➣ Pairing: apprentice!Jungkook x reader, art curator!Hoseok x reader

➣ Premise: You’ve been promised to Jung Hoseok for twelve years. You’ve never wanted anything else. Until now. (inspired by the song “Ivy” by Taylor Swift)

➣ Genre: arranged marriage au, angsty with some fluff, SFW

➣ warnings/tags: it’s a bit angsty, the reader is technically promised to someone else so it’s a little messy, general EmOTioNS, a bit intense/stalkerish but not too bad?? some fun fluff and banter as well, but Hoseok might kill a man and Jungkook will go down fighting

➣ word count: 12.2k *yeah, I know. this sucker is like 3 times longer than it was meant to be*

➣ a/n: this was a commission by @delacyrose224 for Army for AAPI! Thank you so much for requesting this awesome prompt, I literally had too much fun writing this. I swear, I could’ve made a whole series out of this. You guys, check out ways to get involved in this awesome cause by clicking the link!

The person staring back at you in the mirror is not you. Of that, you are certain. There’s no way you could ever pull this off – the silken layers, ivory making your skin glow with a dew-like complexion…

You voice as much. “I don’t even recognize myself.”

“Isn’t that kind of the point?”

Whirling around in a flurry of skirts and soft-to-the-touch fabric, you spot your betrothed lingering in the doorway.

“Hoseok!”

He chuckles, the sound making the corners of your lips tug upward. Taking in the sight before him, you can’t help but notice the way he chews on the inside of his cheek. Hoseok takes one hesitant step forward, crossing his arms.

“You should’ve seen me earlier,” he croons, voice always sounding like he’s a breath away from laughter. “I thought my dad had somehow teleported into the mirror.”

You wince. “Does this mean we’ve grown up?”

“Unfortunately.”

Twelve years of waiting for this. How have they already passed?

“You know,” Hoseok begins, dropping your gaze in favor of stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I haven’t even properly proposed to you, yet.”

“You should probably get on it.”

“Mmm.”

“Aren’t we getting married in April?”

He frowns. “Yeah, mid-April I think. It’s barely November, though. So there’s no pressure, right?”

You almost burst out laughing at his simple question. No pressure? Pressure has been your constant companion these past twelve years.

What else were you supposed to feel? Trying telling a thirteen year old that they’re already promised to somebody and then tell them “Oh, but no pressure.” Of course, they made sure to drop that little piece of pointless comfort after they mentioned who you had been promised to.

Jung Hoseok.

Three years your senior, he had seemed larger-than-life when you first met less than a year after learning of your pre-determined commitment to him. He’d been kind, that was your first thought. A little strange, a little loud at times. For your teenage self, that was fine.

Then things began to change. It was a rare occasion that you ever saw Hoseok; the two of you lived in different cities. However you distinctly remember one occasion in which you had unintentionally bumped into him while in search of your parents at their giant headquarters located in Busan.

It was easy to get lost in that building – you still can picture all the different nooks and crannies where different works of art were stored. The more valuable ones were of course under lock and key, however there were plenty of show rooms that you managed to get lost in.

You had done just that, taking a detour through the preservation room where several workers could be seen on the other side of the glass cleaning a timeless piece that had just been flown in from Austria. Once you realized where you were, you turned to leave. However, something caught your eye that made you hesitate.

There was Hoseok, perched on the edge of a stool as he leaned over the artwork. There was nothing particularly flashy about him that day, something you weren’t used to. In all your time of knowing him (four years at that point), you had never seen him in something other than formal wear. If it wasn’t some sort of suit or dress shirt, it was a sweater vest that he somehow managed to pull off.

This time, he was disguised in a white lab coat, holding a Loup to his eye in an effort to analyze the fine details of the painting. His brown hair was a little mussed, his knee bouncing up and down in the only outward show of excitement he portrayed.

One of the workers began speaking, the details of their conversation muted to your ears due to the glass separating you from them. However, you watched as Hoseok listened with almost terrifying focus before turning back to the painting and delicately taking a brush to the frame. No doubt dusting off some invisible smudge.

You had been frozen for a long moment, completely unfamiliar with this man. The Hoseok you knew was jovial and quick to laughter. He made you smile and roll your eyes. He put you at ease.

This man, with his precise flicks of the wrist and unwavering focus, was a force of nature.

You realized then, at the age of seventeen that while you were promised to this man, you did not know him at all. There was so much more hiding behind that heart-shaped smile.

And now, at twenty-five, you are no closer to knowing him than you were before. You’ve never known anyone else quite so talented at wielding smiles with the same deftness as a sniper hiding on a rooftop.

“No pressure?” You scoff, wiggling an eyebrow at your intended sniper. “That means I can’t gain any weight from here to April! That’s impossible with the holidays coming up!”

Hoseok bursts out laughing, clapping at your comment as though you’ve just completed a stand-up routine. “That’s a good point,” he sighs, making a contented sound. “I’ll have to ask my tailor to let out my suit a bit in the spring.”

You fidget on the pedestal, glancing back at the mirror over your shoulder. Your gown is breathtaking, there’s no denying it. It’s just…overwhelming.

“Well,” Hoseok begins to back out of the room, “You look beautiful. Sorry for snooping around, but I couldn’t resist.”

You straighten up at his comment, preening a bit. Over the years, you’ve come to realize that Hoseok’s compliments are not given lightly.

“Thank you.”

He shrugs. “It’s true.” He turns on his heel and strides out the door, calling over his shoulder, “We’ll fly out first thing in the morning.”

Piano Concerto No. 4 in G, from Beethoven’s Opera 58 echoes off the domed ceiling, bouncing through the air and enveloping you in a cocoon of music. Without your realizing, your right foot bounces out the rhythm as you crane your neck to get a better look at your work.

“C’mon, David,” you groan, sparing the renowned sculpture a glare. “You’re not making this easy on me.”

“I wasn’t aware that sculptures got vasectomies.”

You jolt, nearly tipping off of your step stool before two warm hands grasp your shoulders. Sputtering and spewing, you spin around to see just who you need to direct your cursing at.

“Who are you?” You fume as the person in question removes their hands from you and takes a timid step back.

“Jeon Jungkook, m-ma’am.”

“Is that name supposed to mean something to me?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen even more, something you didn’t think he was capable of doing. Chowing down on his bottom lip, he gives you a small shake of his head.

“Then tell me who you are to me, not your name.” You inwardly grimace at your snappy tone, but you’ll apologize later.

“Oh, I…uh, I’m the apprentice?” When you don’t immediately get a look of understanding on your face, Jungkook presses on. “Mr. Jung’s apprentice, ma’am.”

Ah, that checks out.

Hoseok’s father would be stepping down as the East-Asia representative on the international board of Art and Artifacts (basically the equivalent of the U.N. in art terms), leaving a spot open for Hoseok to ascend the ranks.

“Why haven’t I met you before? Haven’t you been around for a while?”

In order to complete the apprenticeship, Jungkook would need at least three years of working alongside Hoseok. Learning the ins and outs of being the curator of some of the biggest art collections and galleries in the world.

“Yes ma’am, I have.”

“Ok, Jungkook,” you stand up and stretch, gaining some sort of sick satisfaction from the way he scampers back a bit more to give you space. “Two things. First, I’m not ‘ma’am’. Just speak to me casually, ok?”

There’s a flash of surprise in his eyes, but he nods. “And the second thing?”

Turning point to the David in all his glory, you smirk over your shoulder. “Don’t sneak up on me when I’m working. David here nearly lost his balls because you startled me.”

Cheeks flushed pink, Jungkook sputters out something resembling a “y-yes, I won’t do it again” before dropping his gaze to the floor. Chuckling to yourself, you resume your position before the sculpture, meticulously layering on a protective substance to the David’s nether regions.

You and Hoseok had been called over to Italy in order to make preparations for the upcoming art show. It was to be the first of its kind --- never before had these timeless artworks been on display like this. Royalty, presidents, dignitaries of every kind mixed with world-class celebrities would be present.

As a precaution you were going through and applying a protective but clear substance to more fragile parts of the artworks. Today, the David was the lucky one.

“So, Jungkook,” you hum, completely undeterred by the strange position you were in at the moment. “What brings you over to my side of the museum today? Shouldn’t you be off with Hoseok, planning for the event?”

“Ah, well…Mr. Jung said you might need a hand. I volunteered to assist you with whatever you need.”

You blink. Hoseok had always been completely content to leave you to your work. It was a silent agreement you have: you let him do his thing, and he doesn’t interfere with your stuff.

“Huh.” You smooth out the final touches, leaning back a bit. “Interesting. So what, you’re just hanging out with me for the rest of the day?”

“Yep. For the rest of the week, actually.”

David stares off into the distance, ever stoic. You swear you can see a bit of a confused glint in his eye as the sculpture listens in on your conversation. It’s always just been you and the artwork. So what’s this with Hoseok sending Jungkook over? Is he just trying to be kind and help you out?

Probably. There’s no need to assume anything else. You just think…

Well, despite trusting you, you would think he’d send someone less attractive to help you with your work. Is this some sort of trust exercise he’s pulling on you before he proposes? Or does he just not care enough to think about the possible repercussions of his actions?

“Doesn’t he care at least a little bit?” You think aloud, frowning up at David.

“What was that?”

“Oh,” you swivel around to give Jungkook an apologetic smile. “Nothing. Do me a favor?” Jungkook nods. “Take a look at this for me, see if the extra layer is noticeable at all.”

Getting up to move out of his way, you can’t help the grin that breaks out as Jungkook flushes a bit when he gets up close and personal with the David. Despite his obvious embarrassment though, he meticulously checks ever angle.

“I can’t tell at all,” he finally responds, straightening up. “You’re amazing.”

You blink. “Oh. Er…thanks.”

“So, where to next?”

“We look like those ancient plague doctors,” Jungkook jokes, hanging you a bottle of clear liquid before you can even ask for it. “You know, like with the big beaks and stuff?”

You snort, which in turn fogs up the inside of your suit. Waiting a moment for it to clear up, you glance back at Hoseok’s apprentice.

He has a point. The two of you look slightly ridiculous, in your full body Hazmat suits that are necessary to inspect these ancient papyrus scrolls. They’re falling apart already, no need for you to contaminate them with something as feeble as a sigh. Once you’re finished working on them, they’ll be placed in thick Plexiglas cases which will keep them safe from the outside world.

“We’re missing the beaks, though.”

Jungkook hums, watching you carefully as you smooth out the scroll. “I bet we could roll these up and use them as beaks.”

“Not funny.”

“Worth a shot.”

Rolling your eyes again; something you’ve become prone to doing in the past 24 hours you’ve known Jungkook, you set to work.

It’s only quiet for so long before Jungkook speaks up again. He does so quietly, making good on his promise not to startle you anymore. “No Beethoven today?”

You give a slight shake of your head, hardly daring to blink while applying the syrupy liquid to the bottom corner of the document. The slightest mess up would result in having to scrape it off before it dries, which is something you don’t want to have to try. Not when a single nick to the papyrus equals game over.

Letting out a sigh of relief once you’ve completed that section, you sit back and stretch. “No,” you groan out mid-yawn. “It felt like a Tchaikovsky kind of day. Don’t know why.”

“Hmm.”

“Ok, we need to wait…” you glance at the clock on the wall. “About an hour to let that completely set in before flipping it and working on the other side.”

“Great, let’s grab some lunch.”

You blink, watching Jungkook as he shoots to his feet and heads toward the door. “I was going to suggest we get started on the next exhibit-”

“Food first,” Jungkook chimes, leaving no room for argument as your stomach rumbles at the thought of lunch. “We’re literally in Italy, food always comes first.”

Well, he has a point.

You make a point of locating Hoseok before heading out for food, eventually finding him in a grand corridor surrounded by staff. Wherever Hoseok is, there’s constant motion. People flitting about, running errands and trying to keep everything moving in a timely fashion.

As the two of you became closer work partners over the past few years, it’s become a familiar sight. It helps, finding Hoseok is usually fairly easy. Today proves no different.

“Hoseok!” You wave him down, offering a smile to the surrounding staff that recognize you. The man in question is nudged by his assistant, Joshua.

“Hey!” Hoseok breaks away from the group and jogs over to where you stand beside a column. He nods at Jungkook, smiling warmly. “What’re you two up to? I thought you were working the papyrus today.”

“We have an hour before we can move on to the next thing, so we’re grabbing lunch. Wanna come?”

“Oh,” the look of surprise on his face gives you cause to wonder when the last time you invited him to do something with you was. “That sounds…really nice, actually. Give me a minute?”

Your heart stumbles as it pick up in speed, something you weren’t anticipating. “Yeah, sure. We’ll wait right here.”

“Great, thanks.”

With that, he scurries back over to the throng. Jungkook leans over to you, elbow nudging your arm.

“What?”

“How long do you think they’ll last before calling him?” Jungkook muses, an amused smile on his face.

You can’t help but laugh, knowing full well that it won’t be long. “I’d say…thirty minutes?”

“Really? I’ll give them forty.”

“You’re too generous.”

“Aren’t you being too hard on them?”

Your eyes slide over to Jungkook, arching a brow. “No. So what are we betting?”

Jungkook breathes through his teeth, taking in your determined expression. “Hmmm…money or something else?”

“Not money, that’s too boring.”

“Ok, ok.” Crossing his arms, Jungkook sways from side to side as he thinks. Slowly, his eyes drag across your face, trying to see something that’s beneath the surface. “If you lose, you have to be my date to the gala.”

“W-what?!” You choke on your spit, staring up at Jungkook like he just grew a second head. “I can’t- why would you-”

He tilts his head to one side, clearly enjoying your shock. “Hurry, make your bet. What happens if you win?”

“Jungkook, I’m literally marrying Hoseok in a few months, I can’t just go as someone else’s date!”

“Don’t worry,” he winks, only furthering your embarrassment, “I’ve it all planned out. Now, hurry up. He’s heading back.”

Indeed, Hoseok is clapping Joshua on the shoulder and turning this way. Chewing furiously on the inside of your cheek, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Ok, well if I win then you have to leave me alone for the rest of the week!”

There’s a hint of worry that streaks across Jungkook’s features, but it’s covered up a few seconds later as he thrusts out his hand to shake on it. “Deal.”

With the way he grins down at you, you can’t help but feel like this was a stupid thing to bet on.

You’re wedged into a booth not long after, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Hoseok. Jungkook takes the spot across from you two, never missing a beat in his conversation with your betrothed.

“The guest list has been finalized,” Hoseok is saying, smiling warmly at the server that drops off some menus. You don’t miss the way she ogles your companions, shrugging it off. It’s become a common occurrence. You’re not blind to their looks.

“It wasn’t finished before?” You ask, frowning. Hoseok passes a menu to you, leaning in a bit closer. It’s unnecessary, but the way he lets his leg rest against yours has a rush shooting through you.

So…this is a new development.

“No,” Jungkook answers for him. “Well, we thought it was, but then the curator here wanted to invite some more political officials. Has it been a mess trying to rearrange?”

“Yeah, but everyone pulled their weight.”

“That’s good to hear.”

It’s relatively quiet as you all look over your menus, bouncing ideas off of each other for what they should get. After you’ve placed your orders, Hoseok nudges you.

“Your mother called me last night.”

Your eyes widen. “She did?”

Both men chuckle at your obvious worry. “Yes, she did. We had a nice chat. Why do you look so concerned?”

Perhaps it has something to do with the last conversation you had with your mother. It took place about three weeks ago, when she’d come up to Seoul for a visit. The visit had been pleasant enough; you’d gone to dinner and talked about things back home. She’d actually approved of your apartment, despite the eclectic feel to it.

It has almost been too normal. You should’ve known that it was only a matter of time before something happened.

You were busy putting your leftovers from the restaurant in the fridge, your mother hovering in the doorway to the kitchen with a pensive look on her face.

“Have you ever had…doubts?”

“Doubts?” Your voice was muffled from the odd angle, but you peeked out around the door of the fridge with a questioning look. “About what?”

Your mother shrugged, keeping her eyes trained on the door of the fridge and its decorative magnets. “About Hoseok.”

You immediately stood, closing the door with a dull thud. “What?”

“I just…your wedding is coming up, he’s probably going to propose within the next couple of months – for heaven’s sake, you have your dress fitting coming up in just a couple of weeks, isn’t that right?”

“Mom,” you voice was stern. “What is this about? You’re scaring me.”

At your confession your mother finally met your eyes. “Oh, sweetie, I didn’t mean to worry you so much. But I can’t help but wonder, you know? We’ve never really talked about it-”

“There was never anything to talk about!” You sigh, exasperated. “All I’ve known is that I’m going to end up with Hoseok, and that’s that! He’s a nice man, hardworking, and we make a good team.”

“I know, darling. I know.” She hesitated before stepping forward, coming to place a loving hand on your cheek. “I just want you to know that you get to make this decision. Even though it may not have always felt like it. There is…more. Out there, for you.”

More?

“Just, uh…” you shake your head, trying to clear your mind of those thoughts rolling around your head. “Wanted to make sure she didn’t share any embarrassing information about me.”

This makes both men chuckle, Jungkook leaning forward with eager eyes. “Like what? Do tell.”

You blush at his undivided attention, groaning and slipping down further in your seat. Hopefully neither of them notice your pink cheeks, something tells you that Jungkook would never let you live it down.

The fact that you don’t know how Hoseok would react has you even more on edge.

Hoseok grins at you as you sit up again, reaching around your shoulders to pull you close. “Aw, you probably don’t have any embarrassing stories. We all already know that you’re perfect.”

You blink, staring up at your betrothed as his smile softens. He’s never spoken to you like this. First sending extra help in the form of Jungkook, then dropping everything to go to lunch, now this?

Before your mind can run with the idea blooming in your chest, your server appears with your food. Her eyes instantly zone in on you and Hoseok, something registering in her eyes as she offers you a warm smile. Then, she turns her full attention on Jungkook. Practically eating him alive as she sets his food down in front of him.

“Your hair is so long,” she muses. “I’ve never seen anyone able to pull off hair like that…what’s your secret?”

Jungkook, who you assumed would preen in the attention, hardly glances the girl’s way. His eyes rest on where Hoseok’s hand ghosts over your shoulder, slow in its retreat. Jungkook keeps a neutral expression, although his eyes shoot up to yours in a way that has you pinned to the back of the booth.

It’s over just as quickly as it began, Jungkook grinning down at his food and mumbling, “No secret. Just good genes.” He doesn’t wait another second before diving into his food. You snort at his reply, Hoseok just shaking his head before beginning to eat in a more meticulous manner. If he noticed the strange exchange that just passed between you and Jungkook, he doesn’t say anything.

Or maybe it was all in your head. Maybe that protective coating you applied to the papyrus earlier today has gone straight to your head, addling your brain.

The food is delicious, as expected. The three of you fall into an easy conversation, revolving mainly around work. You notice that Jungkook keeps checking his phone, but you ignore it.

That is, until he offers you a smug smile before focusing his attention on Hoseok.

“So, for this gala…we’re meant to bring a plus one, right?”

Hoseok nods. “Yep.”

“Who’re you taking?”

Hoseok laughs, taking a long sip of his drink. “Who? I don’t know, I feel like I should maybe take the woman I’m marrying in a few months.” He shoots you a friendly wink, but you can’t completely return his light-hearted nature. Has it already been forty minutes? But still, there’s been no call…

“Oh,” a familiar ringtone cuts through the air, and Hoseok grabs his phone from his pocket, frowning at the screen. “It’s Joshua. I’ll just step outside for a moment.”

Hoseok is too busy sliding out of the booth to notice the way your jaw drops. The second he’s out of sight, you turn an accusatory glare toward Jungkook. “What was that? Did you seriously tell them to call-”

“Before you castrate me, I’d like to defend myself. Can I do that?”

“And then I can castrate you?”

Jungkook visibly swallows. “I only meant it hypothetically, but…just listen.” When you angrily wave for him to continue, the smug smile from earlier reappears on his face. “I have this all under control. But, from where I’m sitting, I won our little bet. So I have a question for you.”

“I’m not going with you, Hoseok is taking me!”

Pushing his tongue against his cheek, Jungkook sits back and observes you for a moment. “Don’t be so sure about that, sweetheart. Now, what color of dress are you wearing to this thing?”

You do your best to ignore Jungkook for the rest of the day. Hoseok chats happily with you on the walk back to the museum, occasionally finding a way to let his hand graze yours. It’s enough to keep you distracted from Jungkook’s complacent expression which is usually directed in your direction.

Parting from Hoseok is like parting with a security blanket, and he looks to be particularly pleased with the way you run your hand down his arm before bidding him goodbye. Jungkook huffs a breath, which goes unnoticed by your betrothed as he heads into the building where countless workers wait for him.

“I’m still waiting on an answer,” Jungkook chides a few moments later. You’re desperately trying to outpace him, annoyed when he easily keeps up.

“You’re not getting one and we’re not going together.”

“Didn’t I tell you that I’d take care of it? Everything. Even Hoseok.” You stop in your tracks when Jungkook jumps in front of the doors, opening one up with a flourish.

“Jungkook.”

“Yes, darling?” It’s infuriating how much you react to the pet name, your reddening cheeks giving you away instantly.

“Stop.”

Jungkook blinks, straightening up a bit as you sweep past him and head inside. When he’s silent the entire walk to the papyrus lab, you let out a sigh of relief. Never mind the fact that there’s a dull disappointment blooming in your chest. For a moment, it was nice to think of what a night at Jungkook’s side could be like.

It would certainly be different than what you’re used to with Hoseok. Not that you two often spend occasions like this together, it’s more of a formality than anything. The first few minutes are always a dream: Hoseok can’t take his eyes off of you and gets flustered. He’s a perfect gentleman, and even goes so far as to hold you close to him when entering the event.

However, it only takes a few minutes before he’s swept off in one direction and you the other. Collogues, board members, and possible buyers of the rare artwork on display keep you two busy and apart for the entirety of the night.

You make to step into the prep room, ready to get back into your hazmat suit and start on the other side of the papyrus scrolls. The moment you step in, however, the thought of being stuck in such a small space with Jungkook nearly makes your lightheaded. Focus is paramount in your line of work, and Jungkook counts as a distraction.

“Would you go around to the sculptures we worked on yesterday and make sure they’re doing ok?” You glance over your shoulder to see Jungkook freeze in the doorway. “I, uh…I never know how they’re going to respond to the added layer.”

Jungkook has lost all of his previous swagger, simply giving you a curt nod before turning to walk away. You can’t help but watch as he briskly heads down the hallways, running his hands through his hair before fisting them at the nape.

You jump a little as the door closes, lost in your thoughts. Rushing back to you are your mother’s words.

“There is…more. Out there, for you.”

The words settle for a moment before you snort, chuckling to yourself before putting one leg in the hazmat suit. “They’re both hot. So what?”

Two more days pass in a similar fashion. Jungkook is always waiting for you at the entrance to the museum, resembling an eager puppy before you shut him down with a stern look.

Last night you spent a ridiculous amount of time coming up with errands you could send him on that wouldn’t seem too suspicious. For the most part it’s worked; you’ve been working alone for most of the day, and Jungkook hasn’t seemed too keen to intrude.

A part of you feels a bit bad for shutting him out so much, but you really have no reason to let him in. Especially not when he was so set on taking you to the gala when you’re very clearly promised to another.

“Does he have something against Hoseok?”

Your question is directed to your current project, The Incoronation of the Virgin, by Jacopo di Cione. Of course, the virgin humbly sitting with a crown on her head pays you no mind, but you carry on anyway.

“But then again, why would he? He’s getting his job, isn’t he?” You sit back, lightly dusting at the finer details of the mural. “Oh, maybe he’s angry at me.”

“Why would I be angry at you?”

You gasp as you stumble back, losing your footing from where you were on a stepping stool. You gasp louder (if that’s possible) when two sturdy hands grab your waist, firmly keeping you in place.

“Steady?”

“Why do you keep sneaking up on me?” You seethe, stepping down and out of Jungkook’s grasp. “Did I ask you to finish cleaning the bottles we used yesterday?”

“I finished that.”

“And what about sweeping the work area?”

“Done.”

“What about-”

“Done,” Jungkook looks like he’s considering taking another step, but stays put. “I finished everything. Now would you quit sending me away?”

You give him a long look, noting the way his cheeks burn under your gaze. After a moment you sigh. “Yeah, fine.”

Jungkook perks up instantly, and a second later you find him glued to your side. He gazes up at the panel you’ve been working on, his mouth dropping of its own accord.

“Wow, it’s beautiful.”

“Mmhm.” You head back up the step stool, getting back to work while Jungkook holds it steady. He admires the artwork, leaving you in relative peace.

“How did you get into this stuff?” He asks from the other end of the painting. You arch a brow before furrowing it, trying to come up with a reasonable answer.

“I…well, this is what my family does.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, I guess they tend to lean more toward the buying and selling of artwork. From my teen years I’ve always gravitated more toward the conservation of artwork.”

“Why’s that?” The fact that he sounds genuinely interested throws you off, making you pause as you meet his curious gaze. There’s no malice in his eyes, not a hint of the annoying pride from two days prior. Just genuine interest.

It gives you a falling sensation, which has you clinging to the stool until it passes.

“It’s quiet. Peaceful, for the most part.”

“But it’s stressful, too?”

The beginnings of a smile curl at your lips. “Yes, that too.”

A companionable silence falls between the two of you after that, allowing for you to work quickly and efficiently. Once you’re satisfied with the panel, you find Jungkook ready to hold the stool steady while you get down.

“What about you?” The question falls from your lips before you really understand what you’re asking.

“Me?”

“Yeah. Why did you decide to become an apprentice? It’s a long apprenticeship. And last I checked, curating isn’t exactly a hot trend.”

Jungkook scrunches his nose in a way that has you wondering if what you just said was somehow absolutely adorable. He certainly thinks it was.

“Well, there are a number of reasons.” He glances sidelong at you as you gather your things to head back to the storage space. “But mainly because it felt right.”

You frown. “That’s your reason?” Jungkook nods, amusement glittering in his eyes. “What happens when you wake up and it doesn’t feel right anymore?”

“Why? Do you know the feeling?”

Suddenly you know that you’re no longer talking about career choices. It’s only confirmed when Jungkook slows to a stop, hoisting up the bucket of supplies and facing you.

“I- no, I love my job-”

“Haven’t you ever wondered, though?” Now it’s practically impossible to decipher what exactly is going on behind Jungkook’s bright eyes, his long brown hair falling into his face. “There’s more out there, you know. Why do you stay?”

For some reason, you’re frozen in place. A deer in the headlights, probably reading way too much into this conversation.

“S-stay?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook takes a small step forward, as though afraid of scaring you off. “After all this time, you’re still here. Why?”

Your breath is caught in your throat. “I…” The world stops spinning as Jungkook tilts his head to one side, eyes swallowing you whole as they trace the outline of your lips. Despite not laying a single finger on you, your skin blazes as though he were physically reaching out.

With a step back, you glare at the floor before taking a steeling breath. “The retirement plan’s great. Hard to pass up on.”

The sound of your footsteps echo off the walls, listening for Jungkook to follow after you.

He doesn’t.

“So, about the gala.” Hoseok stands in the doorway to your hotel room, tie long gone and top button loosed. It’s a rare sight, and yet it never fails to be one of your favorites. “I have a weird proposition for you.”

You kick off your shoes, not bothering with decency as you fall back on your bed with a groan. “Shoot.”

“Jungkook has this really prestigious cousin that’s connected to the royal family-”

“Royal family?” You sit up, frowning at Hoseok.

“Yeah, like the British one? I think so, at least. Anyway, I don’t remember how she’s connected but it’s a big deal. And apparently she asked for me to escort her at the gala.”

If blood could run cold, yours is pushing freezing. “Huh. Is that so.”

Hoseok gives you an apologetic smile. “I know it’s weird and that’s why I came to you, I don’t want to hurt you-”

“I’ll just go by myself, it’s fine.”

“No, no. You’re not going alone. Jungkook already offered to take you.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, resolve withering at the sight of Hoseok’s tentative hope. You wonder if he would really back down if you asked to go with him. To let Jungkook’s schmoozing cousin find a different date.

“Just say the word,” Hoseok offers with a fading smile. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do.”

For some reason, your ears expect to hear the word darling at the end of that sentence. But they don’t, and you know exactly where you can go for that.

More, huh?

“That’s fine, Hoseok. Really. What’s one night?”

Hoseok rushes forward with glee, wrapping you in his arms for a second before backing away and heading toward the door. “You’re amazing, you know that? Absolutely amazing. The guests are going to be in awe of your work.”

The guests are, unsurprisingly, oblivious to your meticulous work.

You’re not complaining, they’re not meant to notice it. Your work is behind the scenes, whereas Hoseok’s work is visible everywhere.

His handywork acts as a constant reminder of him, keeping you on edge as you trail up the flower-studded stairs that are already overflowing with guests. A few give you odd looks as you walk alone, but most are too preoccupied with their own problems to care much for yours.

You don’t know how he did it, but Jungkook managed to get you all to himself after all. The thought had left an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach all day yesterday at work, hardly bothering to exchange more than a few words with the man in question. It seemed like he had almost anticipated this, content to leave you be. It was when he asked what time he should pick you up that you looked at him, angry at the fact that you immediately admired his outfit of choice. It suited him, which shouldn’t have come as such a surprise.

“I’ll meet you there,” you had responded firmly, hopefully leaving no room for argument. “Wait for me beside the entrance.”

It was bad enough that you were going without your betrothed; that another woman was going to be hanging off his arm all night. The last thing you wanted was to create an equally flashy arrival with his apprentice. You were by no means the most popular guests in attendance tonight, but the guarantee of countless cameras had you refraining from taking any chances.

Now, as you make your way to the entrance, you try to not look too eager. Jungkook is nowhere to be found yet, making you frown, but movement catches your attention in the corner of your eye.

Stepping from the shadows is Jungkook, looking like he was made for this event. The first thing you notice about him is the wistful smile he gives you, which you return before your mind catches up with what’s going on.

He looks…immaculate. Not over-the-top, he’s wearing a fairly standard black suit with a thin black tie. Nothing too flashy, but it might as well be an original piece with the way he wears it. His hair has been carefully styled, so unlike the careless mop you’ve seen throughout this week.

Jungkook moves toward you like a man on a mission while you remain at the top of the stairs, hardly daring to breathe.

“Hello,” he mutters, coming to a stop before you. “You look…stunning. Absolutely stunning.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, perhaps already knowing that your tongue has turned leaden in his presence. Jungkook offers you his arm, which you graciously take. Hopefully he doesn’t pay too much attention to the way you’re gripping his forearm for dear life.

The two of you sweep inside, gaining easy access as you’re well acquainted with the staff. As you pass a long, tall mirror that’s flanked by sphinxes, you can’t help but glance over.

You do look stunning.

The red gown you wear isn’t too revealing, not too flashy, but calls attention to you just the same. No matter where you are tonight, Hoseok will be able to find you with ease. The thought fills you with a sick sort of satisfaction. He’ll see you, but he’ll see who’s arm you’re on, as well.

With Jungkook by your side, you’re a force of nature. The two of you are no longer walking, rather prowling the premises as you make your way toward the ballroom. A few stragglers that are trying to get a peek at the closed off exhibits notice your keen eye and scamper off.

It’s a new sensation to you, watching those people flee from before you as though you were an enemy soldier on a mission. Perhaps it has something to do with the way Jungkook appears to be smoldering beside you, emitting a dangerous aura that you never realized he could give off. For a brief moment, the silly boy you’ve been actively avoiding this week has vanished. In his wake stands a man with a purpose, the successor to the famed Jung Hoseok, and a legitimate contender amongst art dealers.

“I’m not used to this,” you mutter as Jungkook continues in his path. His steps are timed perfectly to your own, and you wonder if that’s a mere coincidence or if he’s currently keeping count in his head.

“Used to what?” Even his voice has turned to a dangerous rasp, smoky eyes sliding over to observe you.

“People respecting personal space. Usual they all flock to Hoseok the second he walks in the door.”

The corner of his lips pull up in a smirk. “And which do you prefer?”

You sigh. “Are you seriously turning this into a competition?”

You’re almost to the ballroom, but you let out a surprised sound when you veer off course into a deserted corridor just above the stairs that lead down into the ballroom. You realize that he’s taking you across a small overlook which shows the ballroom, a flurry of suits and dresses writhing before you on the level below. It’s a mesmerizing sight, and upon instinct you seek out Hoseok.

Jungkook notices your search, pausing to allow you to look around a bit more. He studies your side profile carefully. “Is that such a bad thing?” It takes you a moment to realize that he’s referring to the competition.

There’s Hoseok, sure enough he’s weaving in and out of the crowd. People smile and clap him on the back, making space for him and his companion to get through.

Jungkook’s cousin, Margaret, stays close behind your betrothed. She even goes so far as to hold onto his hand, offering him a shy smile when he looks back at her questioningly. However, he does nothing to shake her off.

“Yes,” you answer. Then, “He never took me along with him.”

“You mean at events like these?” Jungkook stands beside you at the railing, eyes instantly finding the “he” you’re referring to. “I know. You two usually go your separate ways.”

The nonchalant manner with which he comments this has you turning to face him, confusion clear on your face. “How could you know that?”

Jungkook frowns, popping his knuckles as he refuses to look at you. “Isn’t it pretty common knowledge? You two are both prominent members of the art community that hardly have time for each other. The rest is fairly simple to figure out.”

You step to the side, granting yourself enough space to glare up at the man.

“Fairly simple? Jungkook, I don’t know why you think you can make assumptions about my relationship with Hoseok, but there’s no need to do so. You’re right, we’re both busy. But we’re happy. Why do you seem so intent on making me second guess that? Why is everything a competition with you?”

You’re surprised when Jungkook doesn’t step down like he usually does. Instead he straightens up, leaning in a bit closer while his eyes bore into your own. You swallow, pressing your nails into the palm of your hand when his gaze tracks the movement of your throat.

“Calling it a competition might be a bit crass,” Jungkook mutters, voice coming out much softer than you anticipated. “But I guess you can say that. Sure, it’s a competition. As of right now, there are no clear winners.”

“But what are you two competing for?” You ask, exasperated. “There’s no need to go after Hoseok, Jungkook. You’re getting his position in just a few months, you’ll have the same influence he does now. I don’t understand. Why go to such great lengths? Are you trying to usurp him or something?”

Jungkook finds a way to step impossibly closer, one hand gripping the railing while the other finds your hand. “Which would you deem more valuable: your hand in marriage or your heart?”

Dangerous, this is dangerous, your heart chides. Despite the warning, you can’t help but sneer and step impossibly closer. There’s a spark of anger deep within you, and if it wasn’t for your current predicament you would stop for a moment and wonder when the last time you felt such an intense emotion was, but you press on.

“I wasn’t aware that I had to choose,” you seethe. You swallow a gasp as Jungkook leans in, nose nearly bumping against yours.

You can see whole galaxies in those eyes of his. Glinting and shining under the light of the chandelier, stars begging for you to come dance. What would happen if you danced under his stars? Something tells you that you don’t want to find out.

“That’s not an answer,” Jungkook breathes out.

“I’m sorry, what that not good enough for you?”

He blinks, an amused smirk painting his features. “You’re angry. Good.”

“Good?” You sputter out, taking a small step back and finding it infinitely easier to breathe now that there’s some distance between you two. “You wanted me to be angry?”

Shrugging, Jungkook rolls his neck from side to side, looking casual as ever. As though you weren’t just about to bite his nose off if he were to say one more stupid thing.

“Anger is an emotion. I count that as a win. Now,” he extends his hand out with a flourish, “shall we dance?”

“No.”

“I’d rethink that answer if I were you, darling.” Jungkook makes a point of looking out over the railing, and your eyes unwillingly follow his line of sight.

There’s Hoseok, spinning Margaret around and around. His smile is wide, and you can hear his laughter from up here.

He has no idea that you’re up here fighting for your marriage, does he?

Again, that anger is stoked until it’s steadily consuming you. With a huff that sounds more akin to a grown, you take Jungkook’s hand.

“One. Dance.”

One turns into two, and two turns to four. The music lilts and does almost all the work, Jungkook picking up the slack as he moves your through the songs. You can hardly tell where one ends and another begins, all you know is two things.

1. You’re still angry, however it’s being steadily replaced by confusion.

2. Hoseok and Margaret stopped dancing a while ago, and they currently stand off to the side trying to make it look like they’re not watching you.

“Your cousin appears to be very concerned about you,” you pant, the dancing finally taking its toll. Jungkook glances sidelong, chuckling darkly.

“That’s probably because she’s not my cousin and I told her she would only have to stay for an hour or so.”

If Jungkook’s hand at your back wasn’t propelling you forward, you’re sure you would’ve stopped dead in your tracks.

“What?”

There’s a twinkle of amusement in those galaxy-filled eyes of his. “She is connected to the royal family; I’ll give her that much. But she’s not my cousin. Just an old friend helping out with a favor.”

You’re not sure if you should laugh or cry.

After a moment, you settle for easing out of Jungkook’s grasp with the excuse to use the restroom. The sound of your heels on the marble floor is drowned out as the live band pick up a lively tune, causing a new rush of people to the dance floor. Somehow you manage to weave your way toward the hallway where you think you remember seeing a restroom sign, unaware of someone hot on your heels.

You’re reaching out for the door when you feel a hand at your elbow. It stops you mid-step, pulling you in an entirely different direction. Gasping, you whirl about to see Hoseok with a grim expression. He doesn’t utter a word, marching the two of you toward a dark corner.

“Hoseok, you scared me!” You whisper-shout, entirely unsure of why you’re whispering in the first place. Perhaps it has something to do with the secluded area he’s led you to, not a single soul in sight.

Once you’ve turned the corner, Hoseok presses your back against the wall, peeking around the corner toward the faint light of the festivities. The sound of trombones and cellos echo around the corridor, making you feel like you’re experiencing a memory rather than living this moment in real time.

When Hoseok turns back to face you, you note the way his hair is mussed. You immediately begin to smooth it out with a frown. He’s usually so meticulous about his hair during events like this.

His eyes soften a bit at your ministrations, but his face is still flushed. “Are you enjoying yourself tonight?”

“I- no…?”

“That’s odd,” Hoseok tilts his head to one side, eyes pinning you to the wall better than his hands. “You certainly look like you are.”

You blink. “I do?”

He lets out a choked laugh, the sound seeming so at odds with his typical demeanor. “Are you that oblivious? The way you’ve been staring at him all night certainly makes it seem like you’re drinking in every moment.”

“S-staring? At who?”

“Jungkook!” You flinch a little when Hoseok raises his voice, but he doesn’t notice as he pinches his eyes shut. “Just…be a little more cautious, ok?”

“I…”

When you’re silent, Hoseok opens his eyes. He lets out a shaky breath, head bobbing to one side in a habit which you’d always found endearing. Now, though, it’s as good as a death sentence as he steps a little closer. Slowly, so slowly you want to scream, his eyes dip down to your lips.

“No,” he mutters to himself, so quietly that you wonder if he doesn’t realize that he’s speaking his thoughts aloud. “Not here.”

Pushing back from the wall, Hoseok steps away and leaves you with a lingering stare before he’s disappearing around the corner. Your ears strain to listen to his retreating steps, but they’re quickly overtaken by the music and chatter of the crowd.

“What just happened?” You whisper to yourself. After a moment, you ease out of the corridor, scurrying toward the bathroom. Flinging open the stall, you stare down at the toilet wondering if you’re about to retch. With the way your stomach is churning, it’s definitely a possibility.

You emerge from the stall a moment later, feeling no better than when you went in. If only you could splash some water on your face, that would probably help clear up your head. However, you’ve still got a few hours ahead of you. The event is nowhere near ending.

The door swings open as you brace yourself against the sink, and you look up in the mirror to see who just walked in behind you. Margaret pauses for a second as she meets your eyes, the door drifting shut at her back.

“I was hoping you were still in here,” she drawls, her posh accent instantly making you want to stand up straight.

“Well, here I am.”

You wince; your voice sounds horrible. Like you’ve been screaming for hours, when you haven’t hardly said a word in the past hour. No, according to Hoseok you’ve been too busy staring.

Margaret chuckles, coming to the sink beside you and running the faucet. “Look, I’ll make this quick. Jungkook has been waiting around for you for long enough, and to be frank I’m sick of hearing about it. If I were you, I’d make up my mind sooner rather than later.”

You’re sick of asking questions, but it appears that that’s all you have for tonight. “What?” You stare at Margaret, who looks almost other-worldly in her deep blue gown. “I just met Jungkook this week, I think you’re mistaken.”

“You just- what?”

It’s nice to see that someone else looks a little confused for once. You thought you were the only one out of the loop, but judging by the look on Margaret’s face, she’s just joined the club.

“Like I said,” you say, leaning one hip against the sink. “I just met Jungkook a few days ago. Hoseok sent him over to assist me in getting everything ready for the gala.”

“But he said…” Margaret shakes her head, focusing in on you once again. “Don’t tell him I said anything to you, alright?”

Before you even have a chance to answer, Margaret is sweeping out the door and leaving you behind in a stunned stupor. Slowly, you turn to face the mirror again. Then, to your eternal horror, a toilet flushes.

Out ambles Scarlett Johansson, who shoots you a grin before promptly washing her hands. “Trouble in paradise?”

You snort, in disbelief. “Yeah. Yeah, you could say that.”

It takes a while to find Jungkook, but then again that may be because you aren’t actually looking for him. No, you’re just floating around the venue in a daze when you hear his voice coming from a parlor to your right. Only a couple of dim lamps illuminate the interior, but you don’t bother to get a closer look as you recognize the other voice.

Margaret.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Jungkook? You just met her this week? You made it sound like you’ve been pining over her for years-”

“That’s because I have!” Jungkook hisses, the sound slithering out into the hallway. “I have, but she’s always just out of reach…”

“And what, you thought tonight would do the trick? Kook…look, you know I love you, but this is idiocy. She’s practically engaged to Jung Hoseok-”

“Jung Hoseok doesn’t know what he has, he’s never understood! I am the only one that really gets it, Margaret.”

“Yeah, well just because you get it Jungkook doesn’t mean you get her.”

There’s shuffling inside the room, causing you to back away into a dark corner to remain unseen. After a moment, Jungkook’s voice rings out again. This time, it’s a bit ragged, almost letting you taste the desperation in his tone.

“Margaret, please. I just- I just need time. Please, just give me more time.”

A pause, followed by a heavy sigh. “Fine. I hate you.”

“Love you, too.”

You’ve just managed to scamper around the corner when the door open and a little light floods out into the dim hallway. The sound of heels walking in the opposite direction of your hiding spot alerts you to Margaret’s retreat, making you wonder what exactly she has planned in order to allot Jungkook more time.

Once a couple of minutes that feel like eternity pass, you sneak out around the corner. Heart pounding and palms sweaty, you stare up at the ceiling as though you’ll find an answer there.

What are you even doing?

Before the answer comes you’re schooling your features into cool indifference and walking slowly toward the open door. It’s easy enough to spot Jungkook in the parlor, sitting with his head in his hands on the chaise.

You rap on the door, leaning against the doorframe as Jungkook’s head shoots up. The panic at your appearance doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but you pretend you haven’t noticed.

“I leave for two seconds and suddenly you’re sulking in an abandoned room?” You chide. “You much be more attached to me than I thought.”

Jungkook’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. I was just taking a breather. We danced a lot, didn’t we?”

“True.” You stare at him from across the room, thinking back on Margaret’s words. Jungkook has been waiting around for you for long enough. “Tell me, Jungkook,” you stride inside, taking up the seat opposite him. “How come I never ran into you before this week? You’ve been around Hoseok for nearly three years at this point, haven’t you?”

Jungkook nods, his wide eyes completely disintegrating the dangerous persona he radiated earlier. “Yeah, almost three years. We’ve…crossed paths a few times, I think.”

You frown. “We have?”

“Only a handful of times,” Jungkook quickly reassures you, and the fact that he doesn’t want you to feel bad about not remembering him has you only growing more confused. Didn’t you just hate him half an hour ago? “We never spoke much.”

“Oh.”

Words – none of which amount to full sentences – rattle around your brain as you strive to come up with something more to say. Your brain is breaking down, information overload finally getting the best of you.

“Should we go back?” Jungkook asks in a small voice. Who even is the man, to change demeanors so quickly? “There’s still a lot of dancing left to do.” He adds a wink in at the end, regaining a bit of his swagger with every word.

Suddenly the memory of Hoseok’s conflicted face comes back to you, and you scramble to your feet. “No! Uh, I mean…” you look around the room but find nothing to help you. “I need to be more careful. I’ve been careless enough tonight.”

Jungkook frowns, almost getting on his feet. “What’s wrong? Did…did Hoseok say something to you?” When you don’t respond, Jungkook lets out a dry laugh. “Of course he did. Let me guess, he grabbed you as soon as you left my side, right? Jealous little-”

“Jungkook!” You gasp, stalking out of the room as he follows close behind. “He just wanted to protect our image, that’s all.”

“Ha! Really, that’s all? Sweetheart, has anyone ever told you just how oblivious you can be?”

“Ugh, just when I was starting to hate you less.”

“I’m serious! Sure, he might have said something about being careful, for your reputations. But that’s all just a cover-up! Can’t you see?”

The ballroom is just up ahead, and you make a beeline for it. “I see just fine, thank you very much. However, I wish I could’ve seen just how horrible tonight would be with you! I would have never agreed to that stupid bet!”

Speeding up, Jungkook jogs up in front of you to block your path. You step to your right, which he mimics. To the left, and again, he’s there to stop you.

“Let me through!”

Jungkook glares down at you, a fire blazing in his eyes. It reminds you of a dying star, some sort of supernova exploding in those galaxy irises. “No.”

“No?” You push against his chest, scowling when he doesn’t budge. “Jungkook, I’m too tired to play this game. Move aside.”

“Dance with me.”

He says it with such seriousness that you almost agree. “I already said that I can’t.”

“Please.” Bottom lip disappearing between his teeth, Jungkook’s shoulders slump. “C’mon, we’ll go where no one can see us.”

“That sounds like a terrible idea.”

Chuckling half-heartedly, Jungkook extends a hand. “I have plenty of them, trust me.”

What started as one bad idea has turned into multiple.

Jungkook took you outside to some lonely balcony that wraps around the building. The doors are thrust open, allowing for some light as he takes you in his arms.

The music drifts up to where you sway, and you wonder how Jungkook even found this spot. It’s not far from the ballroom, but certainly not a common spot for people to wander off to. You ask him as much.

“I stumbled upon it when you sent me on all those dumb errands,” he explains, smiling lazily at you.

You chuckle, stifling a gasp as Jungkook spins you around. Once you’re nestled safely in his arms, you grin up at him. “I knew those would come in handy.”

It feels like whiplash, going through so many emotions tonight. You were set on loathing Jungkook for the rest of eternity until he managed to snag one of the chocolate fountains from the kitchens and bring it out here. A platter of strawberries sits off to the side, begging to be dipped and eaten.

“Strawberry?” Jungkook questions quietly, already reaching for one. You hum in confirmation.

A second later Jungkook is dipping it with an absurd amount of chocolate and bringing it to your lips. Your cheeks flush, but you tentatively open your mouth, awaiting the delicious-

“Hey!” You swat at Jungkook when he bops your nose with the strawberry, covering you in chocolate. He laughs merrily, throwing his head back at the stars before focusing on you.

“You look adorable,” he coos. “Here, eat.” Again he prods the strawberry at your lips, catching your hand in his as you go to clean off your nose. “Eat, I’ll get the chocolate off your nose in just a second. Patience.”

You roll your eyes, but allow him to feed the strawberry to you. At the first crunch and flood of sweet flavor, you close your eyes and ball up your fists into his suit jacket.

“Ah, so good.”

When you open your eyes again, Jungkook is frozen before you. His eyes alight on your lips, tongue wetting his own, following the way you lick up the extra chocolate. Then he looks at your nose, a forgotten smile on his face.

“Here,” he mumbles, reaching out to swipe the bit of chocolate from your nose. Without a second’s hesitation he brings it to his lips and devours it.

All is quiet. The music sounds more distant that ever, the dull chatter of tonight’s guests hardly registering in your brain as Jungkook’s eyes never leave your own.

Something stirs deep within you, something that goes much deeper than attraction or desire. Something stronger than the anger you felt earlier sparks in the pit of your chest, making you shiver.

The spot where Jungkook touched your nose tingles, and you wonder for a moment if it somehow looks different now. His touch lingers, the feeling sprouting something entirely new.

Jungkook continues to sway with you, the movement as singular as breathing. When he opens his mouth to whisper something to you, you can’t help but listen to every syllable that falls from his lips.

“I…I want you to feel when you’re with me,” he whispers. “I’m not picky. It can be any emotion. But I’ve seen you, how you are with him.” You flinch at the mention of Hoseok, but Jungkook holds you tighter and pushes through. “You’re empty around him. You play the game easily enough, but there’s nothing behind those words. I want you to feel.”

“Jungkook…”

“I know. I know how I sound. But this is all I have to give you, and I thought that if I could just get you to feel something again, it might be worth it.”

You find yourself drawing closer to him, some sort of unknown gravity pulling you together like a moon caught in his orbit. That’s what you are, aren’t you? Completely helpless, thrown into someone’s orbit and hoping that they notice you. Hasn’t that the way it’s always been, ever since you first laid eyes on Hoseok?

But Jungkook notices you. You know, just from the way his eyes widen as though trying to take more of you in, you know that you’re all he sees. He’s blinded, for some reason or another. Blinded by you, enthralled by your silent suffering and digging ceaselessly for a way out. There’s no doubt in your mind at this moment that he’d carry you far away from here if you just said the word.

How your hands wound up clinging to the nape of his neck, you’re not sure. Just as surprising is the painful tone of your voice as you cry out, "Jungkook, this is no way to live."

His hands are at your back, pressing you closer and closer. "I will live like this for as long as you want, darling.”

“Like what?” Are those tears rushing to your eyes? Too many emotions in such a short amount of time, you can’t keep up. It’s been so long since you’ve felt anything so intense. When was the last time? Perhaps there never was a time such as this. “Hiding away from everyone? Looking over your shoulder every second of every day, wondering when it’ll all fall apart?”

“I can live off of these stolen moments,” Jungkook whispers in awe, gently wiping away your tears. “I’ve been doing that for years. But I don’t know what you want, darling. Tell me what you want.”

“Jungkook,” you wriggle in his grasp, suddenly needing to get away, to breathe, “Jungkook, he’ll find out- we can’t do this. What even is this? I can’t…I don’t even know you!”

He lets you go, allowing you walk toward the edge of the balcony as you greedily gulp down air. After a moment, he speaks up.

“You’re feeling again, aren’t you?”

It’s a silly question. It sounds like he’s addressing a child, but it hits a little too close to home.

Feelings, thoughts, desperation and something deep and exciting courses through you. Yes. Yes, you’re feeling. “Yes. But who says I can’t feel with him?”

Jungkook is silent for a moment. “Who says it can’t be me, instead?” He strides toward you, your heart hammering as he gently cups your cheeks. Stars must cry because his eyes are shiny with tears. Gently, so gently your knees nearly buckle, he caresses your cheek with his thumb.

Smiling sadly, Jungkook whispers, “I love you.” He takes a shaky breath. “I always have. From afar, so I don’t know if that counts in your book. I loved you before we shared a conversation. I loved you the second I first overheard you talking to that unnamed painting on the third floor of the gallery back home. You know the one, don’t you?”

You’re not sure he fully expects an answer as he leans closer, which is all the better as you’re completely unable to provide him with one.

“I love you,” he repeats, wide eyes dropping to your lips. “I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I wake up to you every morning.”

As his lips first graze your own, you remember him.

Countless times, that how often you’ve seen him. Passed him in the hallway of the gallery, trailing behind a busy Hoseok. Offering you a shy, sweet smile which you immediately assumed was meant for someone else.

He seemed to good, too kind for you.

But here he is, lips pressed gently to yours with a promise hanging in the air.

He asks for nothing in return.

When he finally pulls away, you gaze up at him with teary eyes. “Why?”

He knows what you’re asking. Why would he bare his heart and soul to you when he knows you’re promised to another? When you’ve never acknowledged his existence before?

Jungkook shrugs, then leans in for a short peck. He pulls back, allowing you to see the stars in his eyes.

“You deserved to hear it, at least once.”

Two Months Later

You have not heard those three words since, and you wonder if you ever will again. Glancing at Hoseok who peers down into the glass case, you don’t think you will. Hoseok will never love you.

He has you. He always has, you’ve been a constant in his life. What’s there to love about convenience?

He’s saying something to the jeweler, but the words are muffled. That’s how it’s been recently. People talk so much, but you hardly hear a thing. They so rarely say anything that matters.

Jungkook has been gone, still working to replace Hoseok, but off on business trips that you know aren’t necessary. Last you heard, Hoseok had sent him off to Mongolia on a wild goose chase for some long-lost painting. Chances are he wouldn’t be back for months.

Staring at the rings below you, you know that by then, it’ll be too late.

Hoseok is planning on proposing soon. You’re not exactly sure when, but it’ll be within a few weeks now. Perhaps sooner, you can’t tell.

When you leave the jeweler’s, Hoseok’s hand finds yours. He gives it a soft squeeze, but you can’t find quite enough strength to reciprocate the feeling.

He doesn’t comment on it.

In fact, the two of you hardly exchange two words until much later that evening when you dine together. It’s in his parent’s mansion, one of several. This is the one you’re meant to inherit upon getting married. The dining room is a bit too dark for your liking, but under the current circumstances, you bask in the shadows.

Hoseok is late to dinner. An uncommon thing, but you brush it off, quietly greeting him as he takes up his place across from you. When he doesn’t respond, you look up.

He’s already staring at you, but that’s not what sends a chill through your bones.

He’s looking at you with that sniper-like concentration that you only saw once before. It’s terrifying to be on the other side of that gaze; something you had hoped to never encounter.

“What’s wrong?” You mean to sound more caring, but the question comes out flat. Hoseok chews on his lip before releasing it.

He’s kissed you since the gala. He did as soon as the two of you boarded the plane, away from prying eyes.

It had been rushed and desperate, and you’d been shocked into stepping back, breaking the kiss sooner than he intended.

You’d stepped back and bumped into Jungkook, who gently caught you. Hoseok merely smiled warmly and explained that he thought you two were alone. Jungkook didn’t say a word.

Hoseok holds up a letter, unfolding it. “You received a letter today,” he responds. “Would you like me to read it to you?”

You frown, reaching out a hand but he’s too far away. “No, I’ll read it later-”

“My darling, I only just now found a post office that sends international letters. I apologize from the bottom of my heart, I hope you didn’t think I’d forgotten you.” Hoseok peeks at you from over the letter, arching an eyebrow. “You didn’t tell me you enjoyed pet names. Let’s see what else my apprentice has to say, shall we?”

“Hoseok-”

“Hold that thought,” Hoseok pulls a candle that burns in the center of the table closer to him, hovering the letter just above the flame. “Let’s continue. Something tells me that we’re just getting to the good part.”

“I hope this letter finds you before the wedding, although I can’t be sure. This post office looks a little sketchy, but it’s my best bet. Love, I told you once that I could live off of stolen moments. I can, I do. But I’m tired of begged and borrowed time at your side. Once was not enough.”

“How sweet. I never realized he had such a way with words.” Hoseok sighs wistfully, making you shudder.

“Run away with me, darling. Meet me in Italy, at the gallery. Come up with any excuse you possibly can – just find me. I’ll try to do my best to find a way out of this place, and I’ll wait for you every day. From open to close, I’ll be there. If you don’t come by the end of April, I’ll know that you decided to go forward with the marriage and I wish you all the happiness in the world. Just don’t forget: I love you. Wow, that was beautiful, wasn’t it? Who knew Jungkook was such a poet?”

Hoseok sighs again, meeting your horrified gaze. In one swift movement, he lets the bottom corner of the letter catch the flame. Smoke curls into the air, and you scramble to your feet.

“Hoseok!” You lunge for the letter, knocking over the candle in the process. With a shriek, you watch as the candle drops to the rug and catches fire. Rushing over, you begin to stomp out the flames.

“Let it burn,” Hoseok mumbles, still staring at the burning letter in his hands. “I always wanted to burn this house to the ground. It seems fitting to do so now.”

“You’ve lost your mind!” You shout, turning toward him once the rug is extinguished and snapping the letter from his hands. The flames bite as your fingertips, the letter unsalvageable. Hissing, you throw it into the fireplace.

“You know what?” Hoseok rises to his feet. “I think I will burn it down. Maybe move into one of those cramped apartments in the city. What do you think?”

“Hoseok, you’re not thinking straight. Let’s talk about this.”

His smile is melancholy, but for a moment his eyes clear up and you catch a glimpse of the Hoseok you’ve known for twelve years.

“Don’t you have packing to do?” With a shrug he adds, “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“I-“ you stop mid-step. A series of choices flash before your eyes, but all you can see if Hoseok and the out he’s offering you.

Perhaps he wants to get out of this as much as you do.

As you pound up the stairs and begin to throw anything you can find into your bag, you realize that you may never know. You never did get to know the real Hoseok. His thoughts and inner feelings have remained a mystery to you.

When you rush out the door a few minutes later, Hoseok is already leaning against his car. There’s another car parked beside it, and he tosses you the keys. There are no parting words, no longing stares as he marches forward and strikes a match against the side of the house. Without fanfare, he tosses the flame inside the mansion. You watch with unabashed awe as he strides back to his car and hops in. There’s a small bag in the back, certainly not enough to hold his precious belongings.

Hoseok gives you a curt nod, tearing out of the driveway.

You’re gone before the sound of sirens cuts through the air.

The Accademia Gallery is packed today, more so than you’ve ever seen it before. Of course, the main attraction is The David. Tourists crowd around, trying to find the best angle to take a photo, grinning widely.

All of them except for one, who stares up at the sculpture with a keen eye. His dark brown hair is shorter than it was a few months ago when he stood in a similar position.

“Jungkook!”

Somehow, amidst the din of the crowd, he hears you. The stars in his eyes are bright as he turns around, acting as a beacon as you push through the crowd. They gleam and sparkle, rivaled only by the wide smile that overtakes his features. Those eyes, so dangerous yet so lovely. They invite you to get lost in them, to dance under Jungkook’s galaxy.

This time, you think you will.

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