Everyone had heard of the Dirty7s, even distantly. Nobody could put names or faces to the members, but the name was enough to strike fear into the hearts of civilians, criminals, and law enforcement alike. They’re known to be methodical, impenetrable, and most of all, merciless. Nobody wants to cross any of them. Lest of all you - a college student stripping to pay her debts.
What happens when you fall into their web of deceit and lies?
What happens when you find that you don’t want to escape, even when you know you should?
Masterlist / i don’t have a tag list / find me on twitter / word count: 1.8k
AN: Here we go again! crime syndicate BTS X stripper yn. I’ll post this on AO3 too. Some of BTS are humans, some are hybrids. They all are obsessed with Reader. Reader is black in my headcanon.
trigger warnings: hey.... I'm back! yn is depressed. she's suffering a lot but she's not alone. nothing of significance. just needed to get this out after so long. I'll be back soon with more drama!
“Breaking News: The body of an African-American Beta hybrid was found dismembered and abandoned under a bridge in East Point. East Point is known for its houseless and opiate-dependent population. Many new strains of synthetic drugs are being released onto the streets, made accessible to vulnerable, unmated Omegas. Markings found on the body indicate the involvement of a gang widely known as the Dirty7s. The Dirty7s are an anonymous group with links to…”
The TV drones on in the background but you don’t hear it. Well, you can’t hear it. You hadn’t been paying much attention to anything for the last few days. How many? You’ve got no idea. It’s been enough for your hair to start smelling bad anyway.
You walk out of the bathroom, dropping the towel as you go, grabbing the big t-shirt with Thandi’s face on it and pulling it on. You had gotten a couple from the funeral from Thandi’s mom. She had made them, gotten them pressed at a local tailor’s place to raise some money for the funeral. You knew how expensive it was to die. Flashes of your mothers face fly in front of your eyes before you can stop it and they make you wince. You tried to pay but Thandi’s mom had refused your money. “My Thandi told me all about you,” she had said, holding your hand so tightly it almost hurt, but you didn’t complain. In fact, the sting-burn sensation grounded you, and you felt yourself get lost in her deep, knowledgable eyes. She might have just lost her daughter, but it seems as if she had already experienced a lifetime’s worth of pain. It made you ache. “You… You were her friend. She loved you so much.”
And then you felt it again, the guilt-driven nausea.
It was the first time you met her mom, but you knew all about her daughter, Sana. The young girl, only eight years old, stood solitarily, as the preacher droned on and on about ‘eternal bliss’ and ‘blessed memories’ and ‘living on in memory’. The expression on her face, you knew it so well. It was as if nothing was making sense to her mind. She was so sad, so lost, so lonely. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of her throughout the funeral. She looked around at all of the people at her mother’s funeral, curious yet careful, quiet and withdrawn, before turning her eyes to the coffin at the front of the church and biting down on her bottom lip. She didn’t make a sound, not a peep - the whole time.
They opted for a closed casket because well… What other option was there? The truth of Thandi’s death wasn’t lost on the participants of her funeral but it was bad manners to bring it up. The thought alone was enough to bring bile to your throat so fast, it made your head spin. You rush to the bathroom and spit up in the toilet. Just a little bit this time, thankfully. You swill your mouth out and walk to grab something from the refrigerator. It took you days to realize that someone had come into your apartment while you had been at the funeral and had fixed certain things.
The fridge had been filled. The pile of dishes washed. The laundry had been taken and washed and returned all clean and folded. The bed had been spread. The rug had been moved around and vacuumed. The bathroom had been straightened out.
Once you had come to your senses, you burst into grateful tears.
You knew who it was.
He had left a t-shirt of his, saturated in his scent and so big it drowned your body in material, in your closet for you to sleep in.
You take a glance at the t-shirt again, wrapped around a big pillow on your bed, and you sigh, getting into bed once more, hair still damp at the roots of your head.
Your phone lay on the table beside your bed, silent but charging, and you take a second to look at it before you grab it and make a call.
It doesn’t ring but for two times before you hear his voice on the other end of the line.
“Hello, YN,” Jungkook says, quietly.
You don’t answer. You can’t find your mouth, you can’t feel it well. Your tongue feels fuzzy and heavy, like a weight is sitting on it.
“YN…?”
Jungkook pauses slightly before the sound of him shifting his weight comes through the receiver.
He asks, softly, “Do you need me?”
You are still quiet, but you let out a light sigh through your nose. It’s the loudest you’ve been in days.
No. I don’t need anyone, you want to say. But again, more silence. Your tongue is too heavy. Your stomach is rolling and your head feels all loopy. You can't imagine where all these good hormones are coming from, flooding your system with flickers of light and ease and warmth and syrupy goodness.
“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” he murmurs, gently. “I’ll stay on the phone as long as you need.”
Another sigh.
He takes a moment to think before he says, a certain chipperness in his tone, “Shall I tell you about my day, Pretty?”
A final sigh, and you turn over to your side, phone pressed to your cheek. If you were more present in your body, it probably would hurt.
Jungkook sounds as if he reclines in his seat as he begins telling you all about his day.
“It’s been mostly boring. I woke up at 5:30. I went to the gym for a couple of hours. I boxed and ran and did some weights. I think I could press three of you, you know, Pretty? You're so little compared to me. Sorry. I got distracted. Then, I showered and ate breakfast with Tae. You haven’t met him yet, right? I think you’d like him. A lot. Anyway. After, I met Jimin for some work-related stuff. Very boring. Do you want me to tell you about it, Pretty?”
He doesn’t let you get a sigh out before he continues.
“I didn’t think so. Then, after hours of back and forth, I went to go pick up my suit. We have a fancy dinner to go to this weekend. It’s Jin-hyung’s birthday.”
His voice gets all syrupy and warm, and it twists and rolls in your stomach all hot and uncomfortable. Why does his happiness make you feel so bothered?
“-and after we finish at DeMaggio’s, Joonie-hyung says we’re going on a helicopter ride around the city. Would you like to do that one day? Should I invite you? I can do that, you know. I don’t think Hyung would mind.”
The thought alone makes you snort.
He pauses and then, when he talks again, his voice seems relieved.
“You laughed, Pretty.”
You blink, somewhat surprised. He wasn’t lying. You did laugh, breathy and weak as it was.
“Pretty, you know I miss you so much, right?”
You close your eyes tightly at his words, lip getting sucked between your teeth.
He takes a moment to ask, quietly, almost needy, “Do you miss me?”
Your throat gets all tight and thick, and you feel horrible all over again. He hears you choke on something, because his voice gets all flighty, worried and concerned over the phone, as he peppers you with soft words.
“You don’t have to say it.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“Please, don’t cry.”
“You’re breaking my heart.”
And then, he pauses and says the one thing you both craved and dreaded to hear.
“She wouldn’t want you to be this angry with yourself,” he says. Then, with more confidence, he claims, “You’re allowed to be happy.”
You cut off the phone before the sobs take over once more.
////
Jungkook taps the edge of his phone on the table a few times before he curses to himself. The wolf glances up from his spot in the corner of Yoongi’s office and asks, “You think I pushed her too much?”
Yoongi looks over the top of his book and remarks, “It isn’t the end of the world, Kookie. Relax. You did a good job with the cleaner. She probably is sleeping next to the t-shirt you gave her and she called you, of all people she could’ve called.”
Jungkook bites his bottom lip and admits, “I’m getting frustrated.”
Yoongi pushes, lightly, “With?”
He puts the book to the side, knowing full well that he wasn’t getting any more ‘him-time’ while the wolf was occupying his personal office in their home. He loved each of his brothers dearly, however… Fuck, he needed his own place sometimes.
“Being patient,” the wolf explains, glibly. “It’s all so fucking boring.”
“Then occupy yourself with things that matter,” Yoongi suggests, moving to his feet. “I think Tae might be done with the guy downstairs, if you want a turn to pummel something moving?”
“The fucker’s still alive? Tae’s losing his touch,” Jungkook remarks, amusedly. He wasn’t lying. Usually, Tae would have had him chopped into tiny pieces and thrown into a river or incinerated. Jungkook wonders why he’s taking his time.
Yoongi snorts, pushing his glasses into his hair. He only needs them when his eyes start to get dry, like now. He usually didn’t use his other form, preferring to be in his natural hybrid state when in the comfort of their own home, but he’s been testing his personal limits recently, worried that he might freak YN out with his skin, his eyes, his tongue… She was prey, at the end of the day. He probably should have the lights off but he doesn’t want to ruin the mood. “Not even. Jin won’t let him die. He keeps zapping him with the AFIB machine. I heard he shitted himself.”
“Well, he shouldn’t have been fucking around, pretending to be something he’s not,” Jungkook replies, an annoyed look passing over his face. The younger of the two moves to his feet and he asks, “Say, hyung.” His tone of voice catches Yoongi’s attention, so he sits up a little more in his comfy office chair, eye brow quirking so as to prompt the wolf to continue speaking. “Do you think YN will actually come to understand us?”
Yoongi pauses to mull over his answer for a few seconds before he answers, honestly, "I don’t think she has a choice.”
Jungkook acknowledges his answer with a melancholy look on his face.
Then, he glances down at his Rolex and makes a small noise of glee. “I’ve got a spare hour. I think Tae might be a little fatigued.”
Yoongi snorts before reaching back for the book. His eyes are getting awfully dry. Suddenly, the lights flick off and Jungkook glances back from his spot at the door, a narrow line of yellowed light slightly warming the room.
“Hyung, you know I always know, right?”
Yoongi scoffs. “Get the fuck out of here, pup.”
Jungkook closes the door and Yoongi finally switches back to his natural form, eyes narrowing into slits and he reaches for his book once more, settling comfortably into his chair.
So we've finally reached the end of my dramatic pause, everyone. And my only advice is this...
Skip the flimsy tissues and go straight for that roll of ultra-absorbent paper towels. Cause I may, or may not, have gotten power hungry as a writer.
In other news, hello to all of my new follows, and thank you to the old ones who are still around. As per usual, feedback is always welcome. Comments, questions, kudos, constructive criticism, even if you just want me to hold you after you finish reading this. I'm here for you guys and I always love hearing from you.
Words: 6952
Rating: M+ (because when is my work ever -not- NSFW?)
Neon green burned the message “6:47 PM” from the cars dash. Bonnibel nudged the gear shift into park and sat for a moment, gazing out the windshield to observe the house she had pulled up beside.
The front yard was well kept, what with it’s freshly cut lawn and trimmed hedges. The house itself was like the rest in the neighborhood, colored tan and accented with a milk-chocolate brown. As she neared the front door, she noticed the soft orange glow from the windows. Hesitating slightly, and taking another calming breath, Bonnibel reached her index finger out and rang the doorbell.
A moment passed where there seemed to be no one inhabiting the residence. Bonnibel craned her head to the side to peek in through the rippled glass next to the door. As she did, she heard the sound of light footfalls on the other side of the wall, followed by a squeal, a feminine roar, and subsequent giggling.
“Gotchya yah, yah little butt!” The distinct sound of Marceline’s voice echoed past the barrier between them. Sounds of unbridled laughter continued for a few moments before Bonnibel heard the flick and click of the door’s lock.
When the it opened, she was greeted with the sight of Marceline struggling to keep a young boy situated in her arms. Bonnibel couldn’t help but smile as he managed to wriggle his way past gripping fingers and entangling arms to a spot on his mother’s shoulders. Marceline sighed and looked up at Bonnibel, a look of defeat plastered across her features.
“Bonni, this is Finn.” she nodded her head up towards the boy. He had placed his head on top of Marceline’s, covering his face with fistfuls of her hair. “Say ‘hello’, Finn.”
One crystal blue eye peeked through the midnight locks. A tuft of mussy blonde hair bobbed slightly as the boy lifted his head from his hiding place, his eyes darting from looking at Bonnibel to anywhere but her. His response was soft and practically inaudible, “Hi.”
“Hello, Finn.” Bonnibel smiled and extended her hand to where the boy was. He was already starting to burrow himself back into his mother’s hair.
Stealing a glance from his hiding spot, Finn grabbed the plastic tiara that had been sitting on Marceline’s head and extended it to Bonnibel’s awaiting hand. “You’re the Princess now.”
The excitement in his voice caused Bonnibel to giggle softly as she accepted the tiara and placed it on her head. Splaying her fingers before her, she smiled regally at him. “How do I look?”
“Like a really pretty princess!” Grinning wide, Finn displayed the small teeth lining his mouth, sans the few that had fallen out. Bonnibel lowered her eyes to Marceline’s face, finding that she had been watching her interact with her son, a soft smile gracing her lips.
“Well, I was the Queen. But I think you’re right Finn, Bonni does look like a pretty princess, doesn’t she?” He nodded enthusiastically as Marceline turned to walk back into the house. She held out her hand for Bonnibel, who squeezed the fingers in her own and followed, taking the moment to calm away the blush that had crept up on her cheeks.
The house had already been impressive to Bonnibel but the added effect of an incredibly clean home left her speechless. She recalled the messes she had made as a child; such messes that her mother to that day still complained about them. Even with a child, the place was immaculate. Right down to the grout in the tile flooring. It was obvious to her that Marceline’s housekeeping habits were top-notch and she mentally added the perk to her ever-growing list.
As they entered the living room, Marceline lifted Finn from her shoulders and set him on the ground. He frowned a little before running off. Marceline followed him with her eyes and sighed, chuckling as he disappeared.
“He can be a bit of a handful sometimes, but when it comes to kids I lucked out.” She scratched at the back of her head, turning to face Bonnibel who had already taken a seat on the maroon colored couch.
“He seems like a sweetheart.” Bonnibel patted the spot next to her, and Marceline took the invitation.
“Yes, well, he shouldn’t give you any problems. It’s just me he harrasses.” Marceline stretched out, placing her arm over Bonnibel’s shoulders. Bonnibel melted against her, reveling in her presence before she began to fidget. “I gotta get ready for work.”
Bonnibel tightened her lips to one side, becoming aware of the dense pit of jealousy that settled in her gut. The sensation lessened as Marceline leaned over and brushed her lips against hers. They smiled briefly at each other before Marceline hefted herself from the couch and walked off down the same hallway Finn had vanished through.
The lull in the excitement left Bonnibel to stew over her reaction. She had never been the most in touch with her feelings, even when she was young. Her father had always been the stoic projection of what she envisioned herself to be one day. So even through her educational career, she perfected and maintained the art of ignoring her emotions.
Now there she was, incapable of denying what she was feeling. She was becoming exponentially more distraught as time wore on, and she knew that Marceline had become aware of it’s trigger. On more than one occasion Bonnibel had picked up on her subtle habit of skirting any discussions of her work or workplace. She knew her profession bothered Bonnibel, just as much as Bonnibel knew Marceline was not going to give it up. They were locked in stalemate; no obvious answer to their unspoken conflict.
Her contemplations were broken when Finn ran back into the room, an odd white cap covering his hair and a matching sheet tied around his neck like a cape. He held a plastic sword in one hand, raising it to the ceiling before dropping to one knee in front of Bonnibel. She was barely able to contain her smile at the action.
“Princess! Please let me be your knight!” Finn continued to stay on his knee, glancing up at Bonnibel occasionally. She tapped her forefinger against her chin in faux thoughtfulness.
“Well, Sir Finn, are you strong and brave enough for the task?” He jumped to his feet at her words, pounding his fist against his puffed-out chest.
“I am the strongest and most bravest there is! My mommy says so!” She nodded her head slowly, pretending to be deeply consider his offer.
“Well then, Sir Finn, I would have to say,” she paused dramatically and watched as the boy shuffled impatiently, “yes.”
The smile that graced Finn’s face was one that Bonnibel was familiar with. He was definitely Marceline’s son if he could smile at her with such unbridled emotion. Bonnibel found herself dumbfounded at the action, and incapable of forming a response. The sound of a throat being cleared became her solstice as the situation rapidly became uncomfortable.
“I’m off to work.” Marceline walked up to Finn and kneeled beside him, smoothing her hand over his bear-eared white cap. “You gonna make sure the Princess is safe while I’m gone?”
He nodded enthusiastically, leaning up on his tiptoes to wrap his arms around Marceline’s neck. She enveloped him in an embrace before drawing away to place a kiss on his forehead. He reacted to the overly affectionate act by sticking his tongue out and wiping the back of his hand against his forehead. The word “gross” was murmured from his lips as Marceline turned her attention to Bonnibel.
“I’ll be home in the early morning. If you want, there are a bunch of DVDs laying around. Finn can pick one out for you two to watch.” they both glanced at him, a sudden burst of excitement coursed through his wide-eyes at the news. “There’s plenty of food in the fridge if either of you gets hungry.” Marceline leaned over and placed her lips next to Bonnibel’s ear. “If he starts to get out of hand, the movie should put him to sleep in no time.” she quickly kissed Bonnibel’s cheek before standing back up and making for the front door, shouting out her final response as it was about to close. “I’ll see you both in the morning. I love you.”
“Bye mommy, I love you too!” Finn called after her, waving frantically.
“Bye, Marcy.” Bonnibel swallowed back another well of emotions at Marceline’s farewell, uncertain if she should have added more to her response. The door closed and the lock snapped into place, leaving just Finn and Bonnibel in the cozy living space.
It turned out that even if Bonnibel’s knowledge on how to entertain a four year-old was sparse, Finn was a pro at entertaining his sitters. He quickly turned his attention back to Bonnibel and began spinning a rambled tale of how she had been kidnapped by an evil wizard.
“Here!” He collected all of the pillows he could find, even the ones that Bonnibel was certain were from Marceline’s room, and set to building a fortress from them. Once the size and shape had been set in pillow form, he took Bonnibel by the hand and guided her to where the structure was. She took the hint and sat down in the middle, raising the back of her hand to her forehead and feigning a worried look.
“Oh, woe is me! Whoever will save me from the evil wizard? They’d certainly have to be the bravest and most strongest knight in all the land!”
Finn puffed out his chest again, and raised the sword he was holding. “I’ll save you Princess! And become the hero of Ooo!” Bonnibel found herself having to cover her mouth with her hand to hide her laughter.
He had an impressive imagination. Bonnibel found that while she had always been constrained to one world as a child, Finn had two. The one he lived in with his mother, and the second one, where he was the hero of a mythical land named Ooo. She found the entire situation refreshing, as well as contagious. By the time Finn had saved her from the evil wizard, who he continued to refer to as the “Ice King”, it was late. Even by Bonnibel’s standards.
“Ok, Finn the Hero. Why don’t you pick out a movie for us to watch?” She took a spot on the couch once again, curling her legs up underneath her.
Finn went to work laying out rows of DVDs on the floor. He picked through them meticulously, discarding the ones that he didn’t want to watch until he had weeded out most of them, leaving three to choose from. He hopped up onto the couch next to Bonnibel and showed them to her.
“You can choose, Princess.” She scanned the DVD cases he had brought to her, only recognizing the title to one and picking it from the batch.
“How about this one?” Finn’s eyes lit up as he nodded approvingly at her choice.
She smiled at him and took the case for “Beauty and the Beast” and popped it open. Getting up from her space on the couch she moved to the television opposite of it and slid the disk into the player. When she turned around to join Finn again she noticed he had rounded up a few pillows and a blanket. Sitting back down, she braced her back against the arm of the couch and placed a pillow on her lap. Grabbing Finn under the armpits, she hefted him up, seating him on the pillow, then took the blanket from his hands and wrapped it around them both.
As the movie started, Finn snuggled closer into Bonnibel’s chest and placed his index finger in his mouth. She felt that if Marceline had been there she would have told him to stop, but who was she to deny a young boy such a simple pleasure? Crossing her arms around Finn, she held him to her, waiting for him to drift off to sleep.
“Bonni?” she heard his soft voice just barely over the noise from the TV.
“Yes, Finn?” Bonnibel cooed to him, running her fingers through his hair after removing the cap from his head.
“Are you the reason my mommy is happy?” She paused a moment, uncertain of how to answer.
“Why do you ask?” He shrugged his shoulders and pressed his face further into the blanket.
“She always seems really happy when she talks about you. Or when she says she saw you. I like seeing mommy happy.” Bonnibel perked an eyebrow questioningly at Finn.
“Is she not usually happy?” his response was to shake his head, refusing to give a vocal answer. “Why not?”
He shifted uncomfortably in her arms, nuzzling the plush fabric of the blanket in his balled-up hands. “Mommy says Daddy was a bad guy, and that’s why he’s not around anymore.” Finn’s voice was somber. “She says that he hurt her a lot and that’s why she’s sad sometimes.”
Finn paused and Bonnibel could swear she saw him raise one of his fists to rub at his eyes. She squeezed him just a little bit tighter, knowing words would only fall flat. Bonnibel felt him take a deep breath and before he looked up at her, his eyes slightly red.
“But she’s not sad anymore. Not when you’re around. So you’re the reason she’s happy, right?” His question ended with less confidence, and Bonnibel felt the dam of emotions she had held back for most of her life crumble as she stared in his eyes.
“I guess I am then, aren’t I?” she braved a smile, holding back the sensation to let tears fall.
“And you won’t ever leave?” His eyes were suddenly hopeful and bright.
“Never ever.”
He smiled at her again, the same smile from earlier that day, the same smile she had seen Marceline give her. She pulled him close again, wrapping him in her entirety and when she knew he had finally fallen asleep, Bonnibel cried until slept found her as well.
****
Bonnibel’s dreams of candy kingdoms, and the mystical land of Ooo were cut short when she felt the soft brush of Marceline’s lips against her cheek. She opened her eyes, observing first the DVD menu that had been playing on repeat for hours, then Finn, who was still sound asleep in her lap. A soft chuckle left Marceline’s throat as she looked the scene up and down.
“C’mon. Help me get him to bed, Bon.” Marceline kissed her forehead, nuzzling her gently until Bonnibel managed to stand up with Finn cradled in her arms.
Marceline escorted her down the hallway, coming to a stop in front of Finn’s room where she waited for Bonnibel to enter before she did. After setting the boy gently on the mattress, she watched as Marceline pulled the comforter over his body and placed a singular kiss on his forehead. He squirmed in his sleep and Bonnibel found she couldn’t help but grin. After they had vacated Finn’s room, Bonnibel turned to head back to the living room but Marceline caught her by the elbow, keeping her from walking away.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Marceline’s voice was hushed, her tone playful.
“Home?” she had thought it was obvious. Marceline just smirked, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her close. Bonnibel craned back in her arms, the smell the cabaret had left on Marceline caused her nose to wrinkle.
“Stay here tonight.” The statement was as much an offer as it was a command. Bonnibel glanced at her wrist watch, and sighed. It was late, and she wasn’t especially keen on leaving in the first place.
“Fine. But only if you shower first. You smell terrible.” Laughing softly, Marceline leaned forward and stole Bonnibel’s lips, kissing her gently before parting from her.
Leading the way to her bedroom, Marceline parted for the master bathroom only after kissing Bonnibel one more time and assuring her that it was alright to lay down in her bed.
“I won’t be mad if you fall asleep. I’m sure Finn gave you a run for your money.” Marceline’s voice drifted from the bathroom, the sound of running water following her words.
Plopping onto the queen-sized bed, Bonnibel shimmied her way underneath the fleece blanket and cotton sheets, resting her head on one of the plush pillows that had managed to escape Finn’s fort building. Despite still being exhausted, she found it impossible to fall back asleep.
“Still awake, huh?” Marceline asked after exiting the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her mid-drift. Her hands were busy with another towel and the sopping-wet mess that was her hair.
“Yea. Hey, Marcy?”
“Mmm?” After drying her hair as well as she could, Marceline pulled on panties and a tank then made her way to where Bonnibel laid in her bed.
“I have a question.” Another light chuckle met Bonnibel’s ears as Marceline managed to pull the blankets from her and scoot underneath. She shifted close to Bonnibel before responding.
“And I might have an answer.” The light slap that Bonnibel delivered to Marceline’s cheek was taken with a wry grin.
“What...” she faltered a moment and Marceline’s eyebrows pinched together in concern. “What happened between Finn’s father and you?”
Marceline relaxed her features, replacing it with a thoughtful gaze. “Is there something specific you want to know, or do you just want a broad overview of that portion of my life?” She brought her hand to Bonnibel’s face, softly tracing a line across her forehead to catch the stray hairs that had begun to dangle in her eyes.
“You’ve never told me anything about it.”
“Because it was a terrible period of my life and the only good thing that came from it was Finn. I’ve been trying my best to forget about it.” Her words harbored a deep bitterness.
“It’s still your past, though. And it’s still a part of you, even if you do forget.” They laid silently staring at each other for a while after Bonnibel murmured those words.
Marceline tipped her head up and sighed. “I knew Ash for a really long time. Through high school, even. And we were sorta just, ‘on-again, off-again’.” Marceline paused, her eyes focusing on a spot past Bonnibel’s head. “We were reckless, and one of our flings ended up being the one that knocked me up when I was twenty. I could tell he didn’t wanna be around but he stayed anyways.” she closed her eyes. “Sometimes I wish he would’ve just left. I should’ve just told him to go.”
Bonnibel cupped her face and brushed her thumbs against Marceline’s temples. “What happened, Marce?”
“Well, after Finn was born he became...” Bonnibel could see the internal conflict for words and waited patiently for Marceline to find them. “He got violent. You don’t want to blame them for it when it happens. You want it to be anyone else’s fault but their own. If it hadn’t been for my dad, I may never had seen what was wrong with Ash’s actions.”
The resolve that Marceline spoke with was admirable to Bonnibel. She leaned forward and captured Marceline’s lips, wanting to express to her through that simple action that everything was going to be alright.
When they pulled away, Marceline wiped away a stray tear before smiling and bumping noses with her. “You’re right, though. I may not be able to ever forget it,” she reached down and took Bonnibel’s hand in hers. “but at least I can start making happier memories to dwell on.”
Smiling, Bonnibel nestled her head back down against the pillow while idly running her fingers through the midnight locks on Marceline’s head.
“Like I said. Finn was the best thing to come from it. I work hard for him and he’ll always be my number one priority.” Bonnibel nodded in understanding.
“And the company will always be mine.”
Marceline’s brow furrowed, and she opened her eyes to pin Bonnibel with a look of confusion. “What do you-”
She was cut short as the door to her room creaked open and Finn teetered in.
“Mommy, I had a bad dream.” He croaked. Dropping her previous concern, Marceline smiled softly and patted the space next to her.
“Oh my poor baby, come here. You can sleep with us tonight.” Finn padded across the room and jumped into bed. Marceline turned and pulled him into her arms while smothering him in kisses. He giggled, writhing in her grip until she stopped.
It was an odd sensation for Bonnibel when she placed her arms around both of them. The warmth of their bodies against her own gave way to an intense feeling of comfort, which in turn, gave way to a satisfied feeling. A much different sense of satisfaction than she was use to. Where the company gave her contentment in her mental prowess, the way she felt around Marceline and Finn seemed to give her a sense of fulfillment. It was like she was whole; completely and utterly. She closed her eyes, daydreaming about what a life filled with only them would be like.
As sleep took her for the second time that night, she found it greeted her with nothing but nightmares. The company was waiting for her there. The board was watching; and Bonnibel couldn’t help but feel the intensity of their ridicule. After all, what fool would jeopardize their family’s company for a stripper?
****
“Don’t you have a board meeting today, Bonni?” Marceline remarked while setting a cup of coffee in front of her. Bonnibel thanked her for the beverage and sipped at it gingerly before replying.
“Yea, important one today. To discuss the annual reports for the company.” Smoothing out the newspaper to the finance section, Bonnibel idly read an article about the collapse of another major business due to the economic struggle. Her company had lucked out and remained unaffected, continuing to crush the competition that opposed them.
“You prepared?” There was a soft clack as Marceline sat a plate of food to the side of Bonnibel’s paper. She looked up from her article to Marceline.
“I’m always prepared.” Bonnibel replied with a cocky grin. Marceline just rolled her eyes and sat down at the table with her, collecting the cartoon section of the newspaper that Bonnibel held out to her.
It had become a habit over the months for Bonnibel to stay at her home during the night to watch Finn. The necessity of it blended with the enjoyment, and Bonnibel began to see less of her own apartment. Most of her clothes had ended up at Marceline’s and she even had her own set of toiletries in the bathroom. Now, every morning before Bonnibel left for work, Marceline would stay up, cooking her breakfast and brewing her coffee. They were all miniscule details but Bonnibel had begun to cherish each one.
They stayed in peaceful silence until Bonnibel finished her breakfast and began posturing herself to leave.
On her way to the front door, Marceline trailed behind her. “Yah know, Bon, you should just move in. You pretty much already live here.”
“Hah!” Bonnibel scoffed, bristling at the notion. “One, you would move in with me, and two, that’s a preposterous idea.” Marceline looked taken aback.
“Why? We’ve been together for almost a year now, not to mention that Finn absolutely adores you and you haven’t been to your own home in days. Why is it so hard to imagine us living together?”
There was a pause. Bonnibel swallowed back the stale taste in her throat. “It would be irresponsible of me.”
“Why? How is it irresponsible to be with the person you love?”
“Marceline. You know full well that the board would think ill of me for that. I have to have their favor to keep my family’s company.”
“This again! I understand that your company comes before a lot of things, but are you going to let it come before me, too?”
Bonnibel kept her gaze stern.
“Do you even love me?”
There was still no response. Bonnibel began to feel sick, the sensation of bile rising in her chest kept her from answering. Marceline threw her hands up, enraged.
“This has been a complete waste of time, hasn’t it?”
Again, Bonnibel was unable to speak. She opened her mouth, attempting to say anything at all, only to clamp it shut. Marceline shook her head and pointed at the door.
“Get out.”
“Marceline-”
“I. Said. Get. Out.” Bonnibel could see the fire burning in Marceline’s eyes and could feel the intensity of her words. She knew there was nothing she could say in that situation that would convince Marceline to listen to her.
So Bonnibel left. Defeated.
****
Rippa-tip, rippa-tip, rippa-tip.
It felt like deja vu to Bonnibel. The repetitious actions of board meetings often did. Between the attitudes of the people in the room and her increasingly volatile state of mind, she was finding it hard to contain herself after the events from that morning.
Bonnibel had already snipped a few times during the meeting that day, her bad mood continually worsening. She had spent years containing her emotions, keeping them locked away, and now one person had so easily unlocked it and thrown away the key. She was swimming in her own head. Fighting against a flood that she knew could drown her. Thoughts of Marceline brought her to near tears while simultaneously lighting a defiant fire in her, and the worst part for Bonnibel was that she didn’t know how to make the thoughts go away.
“Now that all of the important discussions are out of the way, there’s one thing I would like to bring up.” the rhythm of the boardrooms conversation shifted, catching Bonnibel’s attention. She looked up and locked eyes with Braco from across the room. There was something in the way he had postured himself that caused the hairs on Bonnibel’s neck to rise. “Ms. Bubblegum, the board would like to discuss your recent compromising activities.”
She shook her head, uncertain if what she had heard was true. “Compromising activities? What activities are you talking about?"
His eyes were stone cold as he responded. “The board is concerned that you’re having relations with a prostitute and are now unfit to be the figurehead of this company.”
The room was silent. No one shifted in their chairs, no one tapped writing utensils against the polished desk, and no one dared to take their eyes off of Bonnibel. She kept her actions calm as she stood from her seat and began taking steps towards a window to her right. Her hands were clasped behind her and pressed into the small of her back as she gazed out towards the edges of the city. The sun was already low on the horizon.
“When my father passed away, he left instructions and advice for me pertaining to the company.” she turned, taking slow steps towards the other end of the room. “ Most of it was common sense. Things I would have done, regardless of whether he asked me to do them, but there was one piece of advice in particular that I had a hard time accepting.” Bonnibel stopped at the next window to observe the skyline and collect her thoughts. “He advised- no, demanded that I kept tabs on the members of this board. It was something he had done for years. So I did, but only at first so that I could adhere to his wishes.”
Bonnibel chuckled softly, removing her reading glasses from where they had been perched on the tip of her nose and folded them neatly before tapping them into her breast pocket.
“The thing was, that after the first year I realized how important the information that was gathered on all of you was in this game of corporate warfare.” she turned around and smiled at the men who were still seated around the table. “I also realized that witnessing the depravity and corruption of all of you was ultimately the reason why my father committed suicide.”
If the revelation had struck them, it wasn’t apparent. They had mastered facades as well as Bonnibel had. She continued walking until she stood in front of Braco. He seemed small to Bonnibel; insignificant.
When she spoke, it was low. A few of the chairs at the far end of the room squelched as their inhabitants shifted across leather to hear her words. “Who are you to judge me for being in love, when you’ve got blood on your hands?” Braco seemed to shrink in on himself as she towered above him.
Turning to face the rest of her audience, Bonnibel gave a singular nod.
“Now that we’ve cleared the air, gentleman, I think we’ve covered everything for today. Thank you.” With nothing further to say, Bonnibel left the room.
Storming past Tracy, Bonnibel slammed the door to her office closed before leaning her back against it. She took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose, attempting to will away her headache before pushing away from the door.
The sun had set, and her office was bathed in darkness as she made her way to the window. She mused silently over how the lights from the city could mimic that of the stars in the night sky as she leaned her shoulder against the wall and set her forehead against the glass. Bonnibel skimmed her eyes over the dots of light, wondering silently if she could pick out the one that belonged to Marceline.
That morning seemed suddenly far away, like it had happened years ago instead of hours. It had been her fault and Bonnibel knew that. She had missed her opportunity on more than one occasion to explain her fears to Marceline; fears that, suddenly, she realized had been irrational. Bonnibel had walked away from the people who completed her, and abandoned that which had become more important to her than the business. She had chosen to flee instead of fight and her chance had come and gone. Bonnibel could only see a bleakness in her future. A future where she would live her life without Marceline and Finn.
Regret washed over her senses, cold and bitter, until she felt tears begin to stream down her face. She lifted her hand to the window pane, feeling the coolness of the glass against her palm.
“... I love you, too, Marceline.” Bonnibel squeezed her eyes shut, struggling against the painful waves of emotions that washed over her.
“I know.”
She refused to open her eyes for the longest time. She knew it was impossible that Marceline was there. Bonnibel figured the ethereal sound of her voice was just an intense case of emotional trauma. So when she opened her eyes, she kept her them angled out the window, the tears still sliding down her cheeks.
“I know you love me, Bonnibel.” This time the voice was louder, more confident, and Bonnibel turned her eyes from the cityscape to look behind her.
It still seemed unreal to Bonnibel that she would turn to see Marceline standing in her office. She was even wearing the same outfit from the first time she had been there. Bonnibel determined there could be no harm in speaking, even if it was just an apparition. “What are you doing here?”
Marceline shrugged while shoving her hands into the pockets in her hoodie. She was standing in the middle of the space, about ten feet from where Bonnibel was. “Tracy called me and told me about what happened with the board meeting.”
Bonnibel’s knew her chances of this being real were dwindling fast after that. “I thought you two despised one another.”
“Nah. Tracy’s cool. She did care enough about you to call me.”
“And how would she have gotten your phone number?” Bonnibel was determined to debunk the blatant lie her subconscious was feeding her.
“You give her your phone all of the time to program in your schedules. Do you really think she hasn’t read a few private text messages for her own amusement?” Marceline cocked an eyebrow and grinned slightly.
A smile tore at Bonnibel’s lips despite herself, and she gave a hoarse chuckle through her tears.
“You should really give her that raise she’s been asking for.”
“She told you to say that, didn’t she?” Marceline shrugged slyly in response to her words.
They locked eyes then. Their playful banter had come to an end and Bonnibel took a deep breath as the severity of the situation returned.
“So I’m guessing she told you everything.” Bonnibel’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“Yea.”
Marceline took a few steps towards Bonnibel, her hands stayed in her pockets as she looked around the room. Bonnibel could tell that she was mulling over something. Debating what to say next.
“I quit my job.” Bonnibel shook her head in disbelief. When she opened her eyes, Marceline was still there.
“Why?”
“Because relationships are about compromise.” she took a few steps closer to Bonnibel, narrowing the distance between them till she was only a few feet away. “And I’m willing to change some things to keep you around, but it’s not going to work if this-” she motioned to the room around them, “continues to rule the way you live your life.”
Reaching out, Bonnibel went to touch her fingertips to Marceline’s chest. A fresh batch of tears formed in her eyes when she felt the coarseness of the cotton hoodie instead of air. She curled her fingers into the material and pulled Marceline to her, burying her face in her shoulder as she began to sob.
She could feel Marceline’s arms wrap around her, and hear her cooing sweet nothings softly. As soon as her breakdown subsided, Bonnibel looked up at Marceline and nodded her head.
“Compromise.”
Marceline smiled at her response and leaned down to press their lips together. All of Bonnibel’s fear melted away in that kiss and she pressed in closer, wanting to imprint Marceline upon herself. Bonnibel brushed her palms up Marceline’s chest, smoothing her them over Marceline’s neck and lacing her fingers in the locks at the base of her hairline.
She deepened the kiss, her mouth working hungrily. Warmth pooled in her abdomen as she felt Marceline’s hands rest on her hips, and the sting of her nails as they dug in when Bonnibel traced her tongue along her lower lip. Marceline’s breathing was coming in labored pants as Bonnibel pulled roughly at the hair she had captured in her hands.
Marceline’s head tipped back, followed by a low groan through clenched teeth. She pressed against Bonnibel until she had her pinned against the wall, her lips pressing against her neck while her fingers began savagely pulling the buttons of Bonnibel’s jacket free.
It took no time for her to pull them loose and when she finished she began working at the button-up shirt underneath, all the while nipping and sucking from Bonnibel’s earlobe to her shoulder. Bonnibel raised her hand to her mouth, biting down on her index finger to suppress her sounds as Marceline pressed her upper thigh against her dampening core.
Pulling away from Bonnibel’s neck, Marceline glanced at the shirt she had been unsuccessful in opening and gripped it on both sides. Buttons popped and flew across the room as she exposed Bonnibel’s chest through brute force, and before she could protest, Marceline’s fingers slid under the cover of her bra to cup a supple breast in her hand.
Dipping her head down, Marceline took Bonnibel’s pert nipple in her mouth and swirled her tongue around it, her teeth scraping gently at the sensitive flesh. Bonnibel could feel her knees giving out and attempted to brace herself against the wall. Both of her hands gripped at Marceline’s neck and shoulders and despite her best efforts to stay quiet, Bonnibel’s whimpers and moans began to escalate. It seemed to soon when Marceline pulled away from her chest, leaving her to whimper softly, missing the contact.
Marceline kept their eyes locked as she slowly dropped to her knees, a devious smirk beginning to play across her face. She ran her hands up the outsides of Bonnibel’s legs and under her skirt, purposefully reaching around as she got to the top so that she could squeeze her buttocks. Bonnibel bucked forward from the motion, her cheeks flushing when she felt Marceline’s fingers catch on the hem of her panties. Her actions were deliberately drawn out as she eased them down her legs, and Bonnibel could feel the soft scrape of Marceline’s nails against her thighs and calves before she lifted her leg and freed the material over one of her feet.
In a sudden moment of courage, Bonnibel took the hem of her skirt and hiked it up around her hips, then curled her fingers into Marceline’s locks. Relief washed over her when she felt Marceline’s tongue slip past her outer lips and press against her swollen bundle of nerves. Her head lolled back, a soft moan escaping her lips.
She guided Marceline’s actions, pressing her close and savoring the feel of the electric shocks that shot through her body as her hips bucked and ground against swirls and flicks. Marceline draped one of Bonnibel’s legs over her shoulder to steady her as she began to shake more violently from her ministrations. As soon as she felt the sensation of Marceline’s fingers slipping into her body Bonnibel lost control of her voice. The sensation of being thrust into combined with the ever-quickening pace of Marceline’s tongue caused her vision to blur, and all she could concentrate on was the pressure building inside of her until it finally heightened and broke.
The next thing Bonnibel was aware of was being held. She had completely lost the will to stand after cresting and Marceline had caught her, pulling her into her lap and waiting for her to come back around. Looking up, Bonnibel marveled in the beauty that was Marceline until she felt tears on her face once again.
That time though, Marceline was there to catch them as they fell.
Epilogue
“Mrs. Bubblegum, Marceline is here.” Tracy’s voice cut through the silence in Bonnibel’s office. She reached a finger out and held down a button on her phone.
“Thank you, Tracy. Please let her in.” Bonnibel looked up and smiled when Marceline entered the room, watching as she made her way to where she was seated.
“Hey babe. How was ‘bring your kid to work’ day?” Marceline rounded the desk and placed a kiss on Bonnibel’s forehead. She leaned back in her chair and stretched.
“About as unproductive as I expected it to be.” Her response was greeted with a chuckle before it abruptly stopped.
“Uh. Bonni?”
“Yes, Marceline?”
“Where’s Finn?” Marceline was looking around her office, a look of concern creeping across her face.
Bonnibel just shrugged and returned to scrawling out notes. “Don’t know. Check the closet. He’s probably in there trying to be sneaky.”
Marceline’s eyebrows knitted together as she stepped away and began making her way to the closet. As soon as Marceline had left her side, Bonnibel nudged Finn gently with her shoe to set their plan in motion. He crept out from underneath her desk and snuck up behind his mother, jumping on her back and nearly toppling her. Bonnibel burst out laughing as Marceline squealed.
“You two are gonna give me a heart attack!”
Bonnibel rolled her eyes, remnants of a smile still on her face, and waited for the two to untangle from each other. Once they had finished their wrestling match they sat in front of Bonnibel’s desk and waited for her to finish what she was working on.
“So, mama, what do you want for your thirty-second birthday?” She glanced up over her reading glasses at Finn and smiled. Getting up and moving to where they were seated she placed her arms over them.
“All I want for my birthday is some time with my son and wife.” She kissed both of them on their cheeks before gathering her purse and coat. Marceline and Finn stood up and headed for the door.
In a moment of silent contemplation, Bonnibel watched them as they departed before her. It had been so long since Marceline and her had gotten married, and it seemed even longer since that she had sold her loft to move into Marceline’s cozy home. It worked out better than either of them had hoped. Marceline got to stay at home with Finn, and Bonnibel had a family to come home to at night. It was the future and life that Bonnibel had never realized she needed.
“Bonni, you comin’?”
Marceline called from the doorway, one hand holding it open while she held Finn by the collar, keeping him from running off.
Her voice roused Bonnibel from her memories and she smiled, nodding in agreement.
