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ahundredtimesover · 8 months

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I Want You to Stay (03) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 14.8k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: I've been thoroughly enjoying your asks and replies about this story (sorry I can’t get to each one!) I see that a lot can relate to what OC's going through and I'm sending you hugs! 🤗 Again, I appreciate your love and excitement. And uh... Golden JK in that white tank. YUP. 🤭 Hoping you enjoy this one!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

The spring in your step tightens the closer you get to Jungkook’s penthouse the next Monday. Walking here to start another week, there’s a mix of emotions you’re carrying with you.

You got to spend a proper weekend. On Friday, you made yourself some cold noodles and then watched a movie with Jimin and Soomin on video call, who’d said they’ll be visiting you in a week. You took the train to Daegu on Saturday, went to the park, then stayed in to enjoy Min-woo’s cooking and the girls’ stories about school and their youth clubs. You then buried yourself in your mother’s embrace as you told her about your week. You didn’t want to say too much, not wanting her to worry that her daughter isn’t being treated well at her job, but you suppose you said enough.

“I wish I was strong enough to protect you from everything,” she’d told you softly. “All I can do is just give you hugs and say words of encouragement that might not even mean much.”

“And you still are, mom. I look forward to being with you because of those hugs. But more than that, you were strong enough to protect me from the bad guys,” you’d assured her. “Jungkook is many things but he’s not a terrible person. I can handle him.”

And you meant it. He may be hot-tempered sometimes but he’s not evil. But just because he made you go home early last Friday, it also doesn’t mean he’s suddenly redeemed in your mind. Sure, he didn’t email you at all over the weekend unlike last time, but he also still didn’t apologize to you nor show remorse.

Perhaps that small nod after he called you telling you that you could go home was his way of saying sorry, or maybe it just isn’t in his vocabulary. You wonder if Hoseok had told him off but even then, it’s a pretty quick change, if you could call it that.

Regardless, you felt like a human being again these past few days; you just wish Jungkook woke up on the right side of the bed this morning and doesn’t find a reason to complain about you.

Unlocking the door, you’re surprised to hear silence - there are no grunts and deep breaths nor the sound of leather hitting leather from his morning workout. You scan the floor before walking around - a habit you’ve developed after finding that laced underwear last week - and then peep into the door on the right, only to find untouched equipment and no other traces of him.

You’re in the living room when you hear another door close, prompting you to turn around and see a woman appearing from the hallway on the other side of the penthouse. Her hair’s a bit disheveled and she’s wearing one of Jungkook’s coats that you saw in his closet.

“Uh, who are you?” The woman scoffs, her arms crossed and eyebrows raised now.

Taken aback, you just stare at her, until you realize she’s not wearing anything underneath so you look away.

You try to make sense of who she is and how you could get out of this situation. You know for a fact that Jungkook doesn’t have a girlfriend, at least that’s what Lucas had told you, but who knows what Jungkook’s been up to since he got back? There was that red laced underwear from last week after all. Maybe he does sleep around like what Do-hyun said. Maybe this woman just doesn’t know Jungkook has a female assistant. Maybe he’s—

“Hey, I’m talking to you,” she says, sounding more annoyed now.

“Oh. Uh, I’m Mr. Jeon’s—”

“She’s my assistant,” Jungkook answers, catching you off guard, given that you hadn’t noticed him walk in.

He’s not in his usual workout attire, although him in a white tank top and gray sweatpants with mussed hair somehow seems more overwhelming than him in nothing but gym shorts. You glance at him as he stands next to the woman, whose face suddenly lights up. Not wanting to look at her, you shift your gaze towards the ceiling, trying hard not to look awkward as you’re rooted in place.

The woman looks at you from head to toe and you feel her judging you, assessing you, while Jungkook stands there, yawning and combing his hair with his fingers.

“Just your assistant?” She asks, sounding incredulous.

“Yeah. What else would she be?” Jungkook answers nonchalantly. Looking at you, he nods ever so slightly that you almost miss it, another hint of acknowledgement you’d seen last Friday. “Just eggs on toast. And coffee.”

“Yes, Mr. Jeon,” you say, exhaling the breath you were holding and then walking to the kitchen to start on his breakfast.

“I don’t know, another one of your girls? I see you with a new one every time,” she huffs, sounding bitter, but Jungkook doesn’t sound amused.

“What are you still doing here?” He asks, walking to where you are then taking the glass of water you prepare for him. “I called a service for you last night.”

“I was too tired,” she says, and you don’t miss the sultry tone of her voice now. “You tired me out, Jungkook. I could barely get off the bed.”

“And why are you still here?” He asks, clearly not having it with her teasing.

“Because I’m still tired,” she smirks, having followed him to the kitchen.

You feel tense once more; you definitely don’t want to be part of this conversation in any way nor be privy to it, especially given what obviously happened between them last night. And especially not with Jungkook looking and sounding the way he does this early Monday morning.

“And I was thirsty,” she continues.

He sets his glass down and opens the refrigerator and takes out a bottle of water that he hands over to her.

“Ugh, how romantic,” she rolls her eyes, finishing it in a few gulps.

“I have to go to work,” he tells her, frustrated that she’s being stubborn about not leaving when he no longer seems to want her around.

“Actual work, or, you know, work?” She says, gesturing towards you.

You make the mistake of looking at her smug face, the insinuation not lost on you. It’s insane how she can just make claims like that, and you feel that just like you, Jungkook’s getting pissed.

“Can you just leave?” He says much more sternly now. “I can’t start my day with you still here.”

“Ooh, how rude,” she giggles. “Should’ve expected you’d be like that even outside of bed. I like that.”

She walks back to the room, leaving you and Jungkook on your own. You continue to work on his eggs while he stands by the counter, rubbing his temples. You’re unsure if it’s because of her or from last night’s alcohol, but you get aspirin and also a bottle of energy drink and set them in front of him before returning to preparing his meal.

The woman comes back shortly in last night’s attire then walks towards Jungkook.

“I’m leaving,” she announces, tilting his chin so he would face her. “I’ll see you again, yeah?”

Jungkook turns away and does not respond, leaving her to laugh as if there’s a joke that only she’s in on.

“Going all quiet on me now, huh?” She says. “You weren’t like that last night. I can still hear your moans, actually. Fuck, they sounded so good and so loud.”

You almost hit your finger as you slice the apple, clearly not expecting for this stranger to say something so intimate, knowing there’s another person in the room with them. You don’t know if she wants to intimidate you for whatever reason or maybe just make you feel uncomfortable. Whatever it is, it’s working, as you’re unable to focus on the task at hand now.

Jungkook still doesn’t say anything, and it’s what prompts her to finally say goodbye.

“Fine, I’ll leave now,” she whines. “But that was an amazing first time. I hope it won’t be the last.”

Her giggle annoys you for some reason, even more when you mistakenly look her way. Her smug face unnerves you as she holds your gaze while she says, “I’ll see you again, okay? I’ll make sure you’ll scream my name next time,” the words obviously directed at Jungkook.

She finally exits the penthouse but she doesn’t take the tension with her because in this large apartment with you and him, you feel a little too hot, a little too alert, yet somehow a little too curious.

Jungkook groans now as he finishes his energy drink, and he doesn’t know what he’s more frustrated about - the fact that the woman whose name he doesn’t remember didn’t go home, or that you’d found out about it in the most embarrassing way and he’d done nothing to stop her attempts at making you feel uncomfortable because that’s definitely what she was doing.

He doesn’t know how it affected you but even he can tell that it wouldn’t have been good. Not that he’s ashamed of his lifestyle but it’s different when you, of all people, get to see what that looks like. You did see the laced underwear on his kitchen floor last week, and he knows you definitely tried to pretend you hadn’t. Perhaps the image of arrogant, playboy Jungkook just solidified in your head and the fact that maybe that’s what you think of him is making him feel uneasy.

Not that he cares about what you think - he definitely does not - but he just doesn’t want that to affect how you would treat him in a professional sense, as if he’s some reckless man who works too hard and parties much harder, even if that’s kind of what he does.

The hangover doesn’t help at all; he shouldn’t have chugged that wine while the woman was giving him head, which was amazing, he reminds himself. He just knows he won’t be seeing her again after this morning because she’d been stubborn and shameless, and definitely not because of how she spoke to you and the insinuations she made.

“Mr. Jeon, your breakfast is ready,” you inform him, breaking him out of his thoughts.

He takes a seat on the table and you sit next to him, taking out your iPad to start your rundown of last Friday’s meeting and this week’s schedule.

“So—”

“Wait, give me a minute,” he stops you, and he realizes just how little sleep he actually got and he’s gonna have to push through today’s busy schedule despite feeling physically out of it.

“Okay, sir,” you say softly.

He munches on his toast with his eyes closed, and when he opens them, his gaze falls on you, sitting upright on the chair looking clean and proper in your blush blouse and beige skirt. You seem to be reviewing the reports from last week, your eyebrows scrunched as you scribble on the screen. He knows you took the hours-long trip to and from Daegu over the weekend; the visit, just like any, must have been tiring. Yet you come to his place everyday without fail, ready to do what he needs you to do, and he doesn’t even know if you’ve had anything to eat yet.

“Have you had breakfast?” He asks.

“E-excuse me?”

“Breakfast. Have you had it?”

“O-oh. Yes, I had some crackers and fruit on the way. I ate on the bus,” you respond.

He remembers your address from your staff profile. You live about 40 minutes from him, almost double if you commute. You come at 6:30 everyday, so he can only imagine what it’s like for you every morning.

“Why don’t you drive?”

“I don’t have a car, sir.”

“Shouldn’t that be part of your contract? Or a benefit of some sort?”

“It isn’t. I believe only the CEO’s assistant does,” you respond.

“Bitna has a company car.”

“Ms. Jung requested that when she was still President.”

“Then I’ll request one for you. It's… it’s too early. And you can’t always be assured of public transportation. There could be delays. Or an emergency that would require you to drive.”

Of course, he’d want you to get a car so that you’re more accessible to him. Just when you thought there’s actually a bit of his heart working this time, he reminds you why there isn’t.

“That’s true, but nothing has happened so far. And there are other options should there be,” you say. “I also don’t know how to drive so there is no need, Mr. Jeon. I leave my apartment early enough to make sure I get here on time, and I’ll let you know if I will be late.”

Jungkook just hums, even if there’s more he wants to know. What about late nights? What if there’s a storm? Well, he does know - he did see you miss out on taxis and then just walk last Tuesday; he wonders how you got home then, and how many hours of sleep you had after all that.

He lets it go; it’s too early to think about this.

“Good. We can run through the minutes now,” he says.

So you do, stating the points and confirming your actions for each one and then noting down his as well. You try to focus, and you’re able to for the most part, but it’s not easy when he sits just a few feet away from you, with his bare arms propped on the table that’s just hard to look away from.

You’ve always liked tattoos on other people, and the art on his right arm looks so delicate and personal; you wonder what someone like him would value enough to ink permanently on his skin. Even his untouched arm is mesmerizing, toned like every other part of him, with beauty marks that you spot as well. It doesn’t help that his slightly long hair keeps falling over his eyes, prompting him to comb them with his fingers every time.

What also doesn’t help are the woman’s words from earlier, as she’d managed to make you think of Jungkook in a very different way, given her descriptions of how he’d been last night. You don’t know what she intended by doing that, but you didn’t miss her insinuations about your relations with him, which are definitely far from the truth. Learning that he’s rough and loud in bed is also knowledge that you could’ve done without. Somehow, he sounds like how he looks - expressive of negative emotions, and the type to drain the other person.

He also sounds like the guys you’ve slept with.

The thought alarms you. These are things you shouldn’t be thinking about your boss, about the man who pays you, about the one who makes you miss meals and buses and who makes you angry because of how he treats you.

You try to dispel these ideas by coughing - the loud sound helps, and you also want to distract yourself from how distracted you are at your task because somehow he keeps getting more and more attractive after every glance.

He stands up, and just when you thought he’d be angry after your disruption, he surprises you by placing a glass of water in front of you.

“You can drink, you know? You can make yourself a cup of coffee. You can even cook yourself breakfast if it’s just crackers you eat in the morning,” he says.

Yes, you think to yourself. You’ve been wanting to try his coffee because of the fancy machine but breakfast sounds… too domestic.

“Thank you, but I’m okay. I mean, the snacks fill me up just fine.”

“It’s not proper breakfast, though,” he argues.

“With all due respect, sir, eating takes time away from all the things I have to do. I manage just fine.”

Expecting an annoyed expression from him because you did just imply that you do too much, you instead see the tiniest hint of guilt on his face, as if he actually feels bad that you’re unable to take care of yourself because of him.

“You’re not a servant, Ms. Cho. You’re not disallowed to do basic things just because of your job.”

“You have standards, Mr. Jeon,” you say, throwing his words back at him. You don’t expect to see his face fall a little, and you’re surprised that you seem to care. “I need to meet them, and I’m still familiarizing myself with how you want things done, and that takes time. I don’t mean to imply that you treat me like a servant because you don’t. I just… I want to be able to do things right and I’m still learning.”

The words hit Jungkook. He knows he’d been too critical during these first weeks, and that’s more because he’s unable to manage the initial attraction that he’s trying so hard to temper. He could’ve gone on correcting you constructively, with no need for harshness the way he did with Lucas when he started.

You’ve also been doing this for a few years. You’ve been working for the VP’s office longer than he has - you know the people and the processes more, yet you’re the one claiming you need to learn and do things right. Even he thinks his father, whom he never thought was the best at looking out for his people, wouldn’t be angry at those below him for irrational reasons. Somehow he thinks he’s worse than his old man now.

But the word sorry isn’t in his vocabulary. He’d rarely ever said it, and the only reason he’d heard it a lot growing up was because people caused his inconvenience, and not because they’d hurt his feelings. He doesn’t know what that’s like - forgiving and wanting to be forgiven. They’re foreign to him, but somehow those are what you’re making him want to know.

“I—”

“Can we move on, Mr. Jeon?” You interrupt him. “You have a scheduled check-in with your father before the 8:30 team meeting.”

“Right, that’s today,” Jungkook says, letting go of any form of apology he could muster.

He nods then stands up to head to his bathroom, and you follow shortly after to arrange his outfits for the week. You clean up in the kitchen after and wait for him to come out, with you reflexively walking up to him to fix his tie and make sure all the creases on his clothes are fixed.

Jungkook tries to remain still as you, like everyday, make sure he looks proper. It always took him a long time to get ready because he used to do all this on his own, but with you taking on the unofficial stylist role - which he admits you do a great job at - he’s relieved of that added stress of looking the part of a Vice President. It just also means that every morning, he has to look unaffected as you stand close to him like this, with you tightening his tie and your fingers grazing his clothed chest.

You smell like roses. It feels warm and nostalgic, like it’s familiar but also something new. It’s refreshing on you, and it wafts through his nose and paralyzes him a little. He tries to hold his breath like always, only briefly glancing at your focused eyes as you make sure he looks impeccable.

He’s caught off guard when you look up and meet his gaze. He doesn’t react, but he does linger and surprisingly, so do you. He wants to apologize but he doesn’t know how to. He just hopes you feel it somehow with how he looks at you; he’d like to think you do, as you gently bow and step back, taking your things to go down.

You go through his schedule while in the car, noting his dinner meetings and that the food tasting for next month’s event with the art industry professionals that you’re both organizing has been moved to next week, freeing up his Thursday lunch hour.

“I’ll schedule my visit at Taehyung’s tailor shop that day then,” Jungkook states. “I’ll have a few suits done.”

“Noted, Mr. Jeon,” you reply, adjusting his calendar.

He doesn’t say anything after. He takes his leather notebook and sketches like he often does, looking out his window only a few times as he’s engrossed in his drawings. Even with all that he is, you can’t deny Jungkook’s talent. You only know he took an architecture course but you don’t know if he actually practices it.

You start to wonder if Jungkook wanted that to be his profession but couldn’t pursue it because he’s expected to manage the company with his cousin. You wonder if he’d always been into drawing and the arts, if it was an outlet the way reading picture books was for you; you’d wanted to become an illustrator but your mother couldn’t afford drawing classes and that profession just didn’t seem like it could sustain you financially. You wonder what Jungkook thinks when he sketches and what his subjects are, if he feels at peace the way he looks, if he hopes he could just spend his days doing this.

The seeming warmth in your thoughts about this man concerns you, prompting you to turn away from his direction and stare out the window instead. You remind yourself that this is the same person who’d made the past two weeks miserable for you; he doesn’t deserve warmth from you in any form, even if, for the briefest moment earlier after you fixed his tie, that’s what you gave him. You learned that he’s quite mesmerizing when he doesn’t talk or when he isn’t scowling. You also learned you’re quite quick to fall into it when you let your guard down a little.

You groan internally. There’s a lot you don’t know about him and you don’t really care to know more; what you know is enough to put you off anyway. And so these moments of weakness - of curiosity, of concern - should not happen again.

Except, they do happen, over an hour later after Jungkook returns to his room from his check-in with his father. He sits on his chair, his eyes closed and jaws clenched, unmoving for a good few minutes, and you watch from your seat, wondering what transpired that’s got him this disturbed.

It happens again an hour later. He moved the team meeting to the afternoon and he’s now furiously typing on his desktop, making calls, sketching, making calls again, then sitting still with his eyes closed once more. Hoseok walks in, merely nodding at you, then enters the room and speaks with the younger man. Jungkook closes the blinds, and you’re left to wonder what’s going on behind closed doors and what’s got him angry and frustrated.

You take your chance at finding out when Hoseok emerges, asking him if everything’s okay, if Jungkook is okay.

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Hoseok says, a half smile on display, something you’re only a tad familiar with. “He’ll manage.”

He rushes out, saying he has a meeting to get to, and you nod, glancing at the closed door and blocked window, wondering what troubles Jungkook is handling on his own. If it’s personal, it’s clearly not your business. But if it’s work-related, then it is. You’re there to make things easier for him, after all. You also don’t want to be surprised and be bombarded by new tasks just in case, so it’s better to know if there’s something you can help in resolving things as well.

You walk in his room then place the ginger lemon tea on his desk, a common home remedy for hangovers, just in case last night’s events are still affecting him. You inform him that you’ve sent the reports already for his sign-off, and he responds that he’ll get to them tomorrow.

Glancing at his drink, he halts his typing to look at you.

“Do I look hungover to you?” He asks pointedly.

It’s clearly not what you meant, but you suppose the insinuation isn’t what he needs right now. You want to be swallowed by the ground. He was already calm towards you, civil even, and now there’s another reason for him to be upset at you. You wanted to avoid any possibility of that as much as possible, and now you’re here, at the verge of being told off again, just because your stupid brain decided to care the tiniest bit.

“I, uh, no, Mr. Jeon,” you stutter. “I just…”

You don’t have a reason. Clearly, you can’t tell him that he hasn’t seemed okay all morning - whatever that means - and that just in case it’s last night’s alcohol affecting him, there’s a cure. You stare back at him with worry, but instead of challenging or questioning you, he just sits back with his eyes closed again and dismisses you.

“You may leave,” he instructs.

“What about lunch, sir?” You ask.

You’d never cared before, why the change now?

“I’m fine,” he responds. “Call me when the meeting’s about to start.”

Your stubborn self takes the box of biscuits from the coffee table and places it in front of him. You’re pushing it, you think, but there’s a meeting he’ll be leading and he can’t be unfocused; when he is, it’s all the worse for you.

He doesn’t react and you walk out. When you enter an hour later to call him, you spot the empty cup and the crumbs on the saucer, and you can’t help the tiny smile that you make internally.

It’s short-lived though, as that whole afternoon, he acts unusually - he barely makes comments at updates, he doesn’t make eye contact, and doesn’t ask further questions. He just nods when you say you’re heading out at 6PM, giving you no added tasks to keep you from leaving.

You enter his penthouse the next morning to the banging of leather hitting leather, prompting you to jerk from the loud sounds. He’s grunting and panting heavily, and you just know that whatever it was that transpired yesterday, he’s releasing all his emotions right now, through this.

He exits the gym and walks to the counter where you are, finishing the water you laid for him in three gulps.

“Do you need that tended to?” You ask.

He looks surprised. You gesture towards his hands and he looks at his bruised knuckles; he really let it all out this morning, it seems.

“I’m fine,” he shrugs.

You didn’t think those two words from him would ever make you feel discouraged, but one thing you’ve come to learn about Jungkook is that he easily expresses his anger and frustration towards other people. It’s when he keeps things in that they seem more serious, and you wonder what words he heard yesterday that might have made him this closed off, this quiet, this much more distant.

But fortunately, your feeling of worry fades with each day that passes, as he slowly returns to his normal self after - the focus, the perpetually serious look, the attention to detail, the sketching on his notebook. Perhaps Jungkook just needed a particular kind of release and he’s maybe handling things better now.

For his sake and yours, you wish the issue has been resolved, otherwise another blow up might happen and that wouldn’t be good for your newfound dynamic that’s a lot more civil than anything.

It’s Thursday when you get a call at 5 in the morning, just as you’ve woken up to get ready for work, and Mr. Ri’s voice greets you on the other end.

“Hi, ___. How are you this morning?”

“Hi, Mr. Ri,” you yawn, curious as to why he’s checking up on you this early. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he hums. “I was instructed by Mr. Jeon to pick you up today.”

“Why would CEO Jeon ask that?” You wonder, as you sleepily walk to the bathroom to wash up.

“He didn’t. Jungkook did.”

You stop on your tracks. You don’t recall being informed about this, nor do you know of any particular reason why you should be at his place so soon.

“Oh, uhm, okay. I should be ready in–”

“I’ll be there in about 50 minutes,” Mr. Ri interjects. “Sleep in a bit more and have some breakfast. I’ll see you shortly.”

You try not to think about what prompted Jungkook to have you picked up, so you focus on getting ready and then whipping yourself some fried rice using the leftover seafood from last night. You won’t lie, it tastes delicious. It might be that you just haven’t had proper weekday breakfast in a while, but it could also be that you’re energized enough and not pressed for time that you’re able to make this as good as it is.

You decide to bring some to Jungkook’s place just in case you get there late. Sure, Mr. Ri will be driving you, but you don’t know how the traffic is at this time, and this change in schedule is somewhat making you anxious. But then again, there’s always bread or cereal for him to eat; you just think that a little act of thanks wouldn’t be so bad.

Mr. Ri arrives exactly 50 minutes later and he assures you that he’ll get you to the penthouse in half an hour. You trust him of course; he’s been with the Jeons for decades and he knows these streets like the back of his hand. Seated in the passenger seat, you try to figure out what about today has got your boss a little kinder than usual.

“I arrived five minutes late yesterday,” you wonder out loud. “Is that why? He has a meeting with a local artist in the morning and he doesn’t want me to be late. That should be it. Ugh, stupid,” you groan. “I should’ve taken the first bus I saw, but it was so full and–”

“___,” Mr. Ri stops you. “Five minutes isn’t much. Plus, you always arrive 10 minutes before 6:30 and then just wait at the lobby. I don’t know why you do, you could always just go up to the penthouse when you get there, you know?”

“No, I don’t. Mr. Jeon has boundaries and clearly likes keeping his distance. Going to his penthouse before I’m supposed to be there feels like I’m intruding,” you argue.

“You’re literally his assistant, and you go to his bedroom and his closet, fix his things, prepare his meals… there’s no intrusion happening,” Mr. Ri counters. “I know the man. He’ll probably just look at you curiously then go about his routine.”

“Well, since you know him so well, then why did he have me picked up this morning?”

There’s a brief silence before the man next to you responds.

“He did note that you were late for the first time, but that wasn’t his issue,” Mr. Ri says, appeasing you before you react negatively and think that your tardiness was a big deal. “He asked if I knew how you got to Hoseok’s place before and I said you would just take the bus; it was closer to your place so it was fine. They have someone to make his breakfast, too, so you didn’t need to come early; plus, you only went every Monday.”

“What a change, huh?” You attempt to poke fun at yourself and the new arrangement you’re in.

Not that you’re complaining; you know of other executive assistants who do much more for their bosses and what you have with Jungkook isn’t even that bad. But it is quite the shift compared to what you did for Hoseok. You’ve figured out your own routine, though. And the commute isn’t always terrible, for as long as you’re not one of the unlucky ones, given the recent incidents.

“It’s quite the change. I don’t think he realized that until yesterday. He also asked me if I know if you eat properly in the morning. Maybe he thinks you don’t?”

“I’ve skipped meals…” you trail. “And well, I told him that I just eat crackers on the bus. Maybe he thinks I’m losing focus some days.”

“Maybe he’s just concerned.”

You snort at the absurdity of the statement.

Mr. Ri sighs. He knows that Jungkook hasn’t been his best self since he arrived in Seoul, and especially towards you. He’s noticed the young man’s indifference, the occasional passive remark, the frustrated looks, and the tension every morning. He’s noticed your faraway eyes, too, your constant anxiety, and unusual lack of confidence in your usual tasks, given that you look to be second-guessing everything you do.

As someone who’s worked for the Jeons for so long and who’d watched Jungkook grow up, he’s used to the detachment, but it was always because the young man often lived in his own head. There are always lots of thoughts and ideas, and lots of feelings he keeps bottled in.

But he’s also seen Jungkook’s kindness that he doesn’t always show, the guilt and anger that restrain him from expressing his emotions, and the care that he seems to put a brake on when he shows too much of it to someone, and so it isn’t much of a surprise to him to him when the young man gave this specific instruction to pick you up, not just today but everyday moving forward.

“The news on the radio reported on the robberies and complaints of sexual harassment against female commuters last night,” Mr. Ri continues. “They attack at any hour now. I’m sure that’s why. He wants me to drive you home everyday, too.”

“Mr. Ri, that’s too much,” you protest. “That’s not part of my contract and it isn’t his responsibility.”

“Maybe, precisely why I think he’s concerned. It isn’t about making sure you’re not late to work or anything. He’s worried that something might happen to you. And I agree. It isn’t safe, ___.”

“It’s not safe for me anywhere. I just… it’s too much,” you sigh. “I don’t need this kind of service. I’m not entitled to it.”

“He’ll insist though. Will you argue with him over your own security? I mean, it’s either this or he’ll pay for your driving lessons and then request for a car for you to use.”

You sigh, knowing he has a point. You don’t think you deserve it but you also can’t deny that the concern makes you feel a certain kind of way for him; gratitude, for one, and something else you can’t exactly name.

“Okay,” you say softly.

“Good. It’s about time he makes it up to you,” he chuckles. “Boy’s been a brat these past weeks. I wanted to just knock some sense into him.”

“Hmm, not like I expected any less,” you huff. “He just looked grumpy or disinterested during the times I’ve seen him before. Unhappy people like that aren’t always the kindest. Has he always been that way?”

“I wouldn’t say he has. I mean, he just wasn’t joyful or expressive, not like his brother. Jungkook liked to keep to himself; Hoseok often tried to push him out of his comfort zone but the boy wouldn’t really budge. I think as he grew up, that just amplified. People who prefer being alone have their reasons, don’t they?”

They do. You know this just like anyone, perhaps as much as Jungkook. It’s comfortable being alone; there’s no one to hurt you and no one you could hurt. You wonder if his reason is the same, and if, like you, he feels the loneliness creep in every once in a while.

You nod in silence and the conversation doesn’t continue until you arrive at Jungkook’s building. You have five minutes to get to his unit and you get there in three. When you enter, you hear grunting from the gym, and it’s shortly after when he exits and drinks the glass of water on the counter.

“What’s that?” He gestures at the plastic container next to you.

“It’s fried rice. I made it this morning because I had time to eat breakfast at home,” you say, softly smiling and then bowing at him to show your gratitude. Whatever his reason is, the act was appreciated.

“And you’re gonna eat again?”

“I was actually–”

You stop midway. You actually meant to serve it to him in case you arrived late, which you realize is pretty ridiculous.

“Actually what?” He asks, leaning forward on the counter now, with his bare arms from his tank top blinding you a little.

“I didn’t know what time I was gonna get here so I thought as a last resort, I’ll bring this to heat up and serve to you but then I realized that that’s pretty stupid because it’s leftovers and definitely not high-quality ingredients and it’s… just silly. Plus, you don’t eat rice in the morning.”

With his scrunched brows, he asks, “is it good?”

“It’s pretty delicious,” you say. “I mean, I liked it. I don’t know how sophisticated your palate is… Mr. Jeon.”

You smack yourself internally for rambling.

“What’s that got to do with anything? If it’s good, then it’s good.”

“I’m an ordinary person, Mr. Jeon. I have normal people’s taste buds.”

“So that makes me, what? Abnormal?”

“No… I–” you unknowingly pout. You shouldn’t have brought this in the first place.

Jungkook is disarmed again at the sight of your pouty face. If this is your way of thanking him for this morning, he’ll take it. The fact that you’d brought something you cooked from your own place to feed to him is already enough to make him feel hazy, which is why he needs to get away from you right away.

“Just heat it up. I’ll have that. There’s not much food in here anyway,” he says, walking away, leaving you no room to resist.

You do as you’re told, not wanting to overthink and change anything. You do check the cupboard and see a stashed pantry, and you wonder if he’d wanted to find something to criticize about your cooking, too.

He walks in and lets you fix his tie again, and for some reason, you feel more nervous than you normally do today. You sit and busy yourself with responding to emails as he eats his breakfast, careful not to look at him while he does.

“It’s good, a little better than how I do mine,” he says, surprising you.

“You cook?” You ask too quickly.

“Of course,” he frowns, looking a little offended. “I lived on my own for years. How do you think I survived?”

“Hiring people to do it for you,” you shrug.

Peeking at him once again, you see that he’s almost finished with the dish, and you can’t help the little smile on your face at the thought that he might actually enjoy it. It’s just fried rice, but you let yourself feel the shallow happiness from this. He’s at least not berating you or anything.

He finishes his meal as you go through yesterday’s meetings. There’s not much about the Arts Center he says, just like yesterday and the day before, and you start to wonder if the issue with his father has anything to do with that.

You let it go, opting to just follow his pace and let him talk about it when he’s ready, if he ever will be.

The morning goes by smoothly. Jungkook meets with Yoongi in his office then reviews the reports you’d sent last Monday. He sends you an email, saying that they’ve been approved and for you to attach his signature for sign-off and dissemination, leaving you perplexed at the lack of any other comments again.

He goes for a quick lunch at the dining hall while you eat a sandwich at the pantry, and not long after, you’re back in the car to head to Jungkook’s appointment with his best friend.

Kim Taehyung’s tailor shop boasts of classic European design. It’s elegant in all the ways that he is, as he stands by the desk in his working space, a smaller room on the mezzanine floor with an exquisite couch and displays of his work. He’s donned in an orange suit that you think only he can pull off, while his brother, Seokjin, sits on a chair in an impeccable black 3-piece.

You know as much that Jungkook grew up with both men, but while the brothers are often a hot topic on the news because of their wealth, their successful businesses, and colorful dating lives, you now wonder how Jungkook managed to stay out of the spotlight despite being a lot of the things that they are.

You bow at them after Jungkook introduces you as his assistant, and you’re surprised when Seokjin reaches out his hand to shake yours, bowing as well and offering you a kind smile. Taehyung does the same, and you can’t help but feel the warmth on your cheeks. They’re clearly incredibly handsome men with amazing styles, just like your boss, but they’re obviously respectful and gentle, unlike him.

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Cho,” Taehyung smiles. “So, what events do I need to dress my best friend for?”

He looks warm, friendly, and you can’t help but mirror his smile as he offers you a seat and some tea. You take out your calendar and enumerate at least three big events in the next months, which would require standout designs. Jungkook also wants four additional everyday classic suits, and Taehyung starts sketching on his pad as you speak.

“Make one for my event, too,” Seokjin says. “I’m launching my traditional alcohol brand in Singapore in September. It’ll be a big thing so Jungkook needs a fancy piece for that as well.”

“That soon?” Jungkook asks.

“Yeah, it got pushed early,” Seokjin replies.

Jungkook asks you to check his calendar for any activities in the Singapore office, and you state that there’s nothing scheduled during that time.

“There’s a landscape designer I want to meet while I’m there. Schedule one with her later,” Jungkook instructs you, and you make a note to coordinate with Lucas, who will continue to serve as the assigned assistant for the Vice President’s Southeast Asia trips.

Taehyung finishes the rough designs quickly, given that he’s already familiar with the style his client wants. He’s done a lot of Jungkook’s suits, which you know from all the weeks of preparing his clothes, and you do admit that he looks best in these custom-made pieces.

As Taehyung takes Jungkook’s measurements - given that, as per his words, Jungkook has gotten wider since the last time - he asks if you have something to wear for those big events, too.

“Uh, yes,” you say.

“Are they from company events from before?” Taehyung asks.

You nod shyly. It’s not like you’re paid enough to afford a new one every time nor can you wear them anywhere else; there aren’t exactly regular fancy dinners and social occasions you get invited to.

“Have new ones made, then,” Jungkook says, his back turned to you.

“Uh, there’s no need, Mr. Jeon. The gowns still look new and they’re well-made,” you insist.

“Store-bought?” Taehyung asks, his eyebrow cocked.

“Uh, yes, Mr. Kim.”

“Nothing beats custom-designed ones though. And I must say, I’m kinda good at them.”

“I, uh… it’s really not necessary,” you stutter, feeling a little too shy and definitely undeserving. It’s Kim Taehyung; his name is the brand.

“I believe it is,” Jungkook says now, turning to you. “They’re big events and we’re organizing one with the arts professionals. Some dignitaries will be coming, too, including the culture minister. I’d prefer if you looked the part of working for the Vice President, Ms. Cho. You represent me in that way.”

“I… uh, okay,” you sigh, knowing you don’t seem to be in a position to turn him down.

“Great. Start thinking of designs, then!” Taehyung beams.

It’s some minutes later when Jungkook’s measurements have been taken and Taehyung calls for you. You sit on the chair facing his desk not far away while Jungkook and Seokjin talk about sports and this new club that opened in Gangnam.

Seated in front of you, Taehyung takes his sketch pad and starts asking what design you want.

“Something simple and comfortable since I’ll be moving around,” you say softly. “And nothing form-fitting or revealing since, uh…”

“I understand,” Taehyung smiles, revealing a gentle side of him that the paparazzi and tabloids clearly don’t capture.

He starts drawing your silhouette, glancing at you then at Jungkook before speaking.

“So, he’s been in this role for a few weeks now. Has he been nice?”

“Define ‘nice,’” you respond, earning you a chuckle.

“I guess that’s my answer, then.”

“I don’t mean to say he isn’t,” you backtrack. “Mr. Jeon just has a different leadership style as Mr. Jung’s, that’s all.”

“I suppose that’s quite a difficult adjustment for you, huh?”

You purse your lips and Taehyung laughs, the soft way he does it is something new and refreshing to you. You didn’t realize how deprived you are of such gentleness, of such acts or sights as simple as a smile. Hoseok is no longer your source. Your team hasn’t been as jolly these past weeks. The only other person you talk to regularly at work is Yoongi, and while he’s definitely been smiling more, it’s a lot more teasing than it is comforting. You’ve been missing your best friends more because of that, you think - Soomin’s smile is blinding, Jimin’s is sweet and infectious. Perhaps it’s why you haven’t been smiling much yourself.

“I won’t tell, don’t worry,” Taehyung assures you. “I just wanted to check on him. This whole move has been tough but he doesn’t say much. I’m guessing he doesn’t tell you, either, but he’ll definitely show it.”

“He has, actually,” you say softly, knowing now that even with his closest friends, Jungkook tends to keep things to himself. “He’s pretty stressed most days, always working and stuff. He’s been a little hard on me but I guess that’s a natural reaction for some.”

“That’s not an excuse though.”

“It isn’t, but… it’s okay. I can handle it.”

It’s not as much of a lie anymore as it used to be. Jungkook hasn’t been overly critical about things as he was just last week. He rarely makes comments on your minutes now, doesn’t correct the reports you reviewed, doesn’t talk over you or doesn’t yell. There’s been a change, definitely, and you wonder what triggered it.

“He doesn’t really smile, does he?” You ask, your curiosity getting the better of you.

Taehyung’s laughter is one of disbelief and pure amusement, catching the attention of the other two men but he waves them off.

“He still does, just not as much,” he responds. “It kinda stopped after the breakup with Chaerin but I guess that’s what heartbreak does, right?”

“I… wouldn’t know. I’ve never experienced it,” you shrug.

“Lucky,” he hums. “I don’t wish it on anyone.”

You glance at Jungkook, briefly letting yourself imagine a version of him that’s a lot more carefree, relaxed, perhaps happy. Maybe it’s the loneliness and that you’d understand; that, you’ve experienced. It’s both liberating and isolating. You wonder if that’s how he’s been feeling all these years since then.

“I’m done,” Taehyung announces, showing you three designs that are exactly what you asked for.

“These look nice. And way out of my price range,” you laugh.

“Perks of having a rich boss,” he winks. “I don’t want you to worry about anything, okay? You’re my client and I want you to wear these with confidence. Now, if you’re okay with all this, I’ll get one of my female assistants to get your measurements.”

You nod in response. There’s absolutely nothing you would change about those designs. And if you’re being honest, you now can’t wait for those events just so you could wear them. Hoseok had obviously paid for the gowns you had to wear for the big events, but those were store-bought that A-yeong helped you choose. Some were your own purchases, but this is the first time that you’re getting measured for custom-made clothing designed by Kim Taehyung.

You walk towards the fitting room at the corner where one of his staff meets you. She’s meticulous, which is why it takes longer than usual just to get this done. With her silence, however, you’re able to hear the conversation happening outside, with the brothers now asking Jungkook about the same thing you’ve been wondering about.

“By the way, what was up with you last Monday?” Seokjin asks. “I thought that was gonna be night 4 of you going home with a new woman. But you passed out before you could even ask. And that was just 9PM.”

“Four nights isn’t much, though,” Taehyung laughs. “Didn’t he do that with seven women on seven straight nights when he was in Singapore? That was wild. Was it that stressful there? Or were there just so many to choose from?”

“Shut up. I’m not proud of that,” Jungkook groans. “And that was one time. It never happened again.”

“It never happened seven times straight again,” Seokjin corrects. “You were really living your life out there, huh? Stressful job, a rooftop bar in your apartment building, chauffeur and butler services 24/7, women from all over the world begging to sleep with you…”

“It’s called the post-break up stage,” Taehyung says.

“For six years?!” Seokjin asks incredulously. “It’s either you loved Chaerin that much, you blamed yourself too much, or you just really sucked at moving on.”

“I vote all of the above,” Taehyung states.

“Me, too,” Seokjin claims.

“Fuck you both,” Jungkook groans again.

“I think he also just missed us too much,” Seokjin adds. “Lucas was cleaning up your messes every time, not snapping you out of it. But we’re here now so I guess three straight nights is as far as you’ll go.”

“Two, if you stopped me last Sunday,” Jungkook points out. “You both always insisted that Sundays are a no-no. You were too busy with your own women.”

“May we remind you that you didn’t even make it to our table. You stepped foot in the bar then left five minutes later,” Taehyung says. “But really, what was it about Monday? You seemed angrier than usual.”

“Just… a bunch of things my father said,” Jungkook huffs.

“Did he tell you off again?”

“Not really, surprisingly. He just delivered a message basically, about what the board members were saying about me and my project. Bullshit stuff, you know? I just wanted to forget about it.”

“Did you?”

“Sorta,” Jungkook says. “I still don’t want to talk about it.”

“But it’s still happening, right?” Taehyung asks worriedly. “The Arts Center, I mean. You’ve been wanting to work on that since the building was abandoned five years ago.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook responds. “I guess. We already put money into it. I’ll just have to make concessions if my father doesn’t side with me on this. I hate to think he’s buying into what those old folks are saying.”

“Ms. Cho, we’re all done,” the staff member tells you, muffling the conversation outside that you couldn’t help but hear.

It felt quite intrusive, hearing how life was like for Jungkook in Singapore, but then again, his personal life seemed to be the topic in the office comfort rooms, and you don’t know how to feel about getting confirmation about those rumors. It felt sad more than anything though, living that kind of life away from friends and family. You wouldn’t know what moving on from a breakup feels like, but you suppose people grieve a lost love in their own ways; you can’t blame them for how they choose to repair the parts of them that broke.

But the bit about his conversation with his father is what bothers you. You’d hate to think that there’s a possibility that Jungkook’s plans won’t be fully realized, and whatever the reasons for that are, you hope they didn’t break his spirit too much. You know the plans now like the back of your hand and the more you learn, the more you believe in it. You hope Jungkook continues to believe in it, too.

You exit the fitting room, catching the end of a conversation where Seokjin suggests a wholesome weekend for the three men of just dinner and drinks. The two other men agree, and they all turn to you once you make your presence felt.

“All good?” Taehyung asks you.

“Yes,” you bow in thanks.

“Great. The gowns will be ready at the same time as Jungkook’s suits will be. I’ll just let you guys know, okay?

“Sure,” Jungkook says. “But anyway, we have to get back to work. Thanks again.”

The brothers bid you and Jungkook goodbye, and you head back to the office with not much words said. Jungkook seems less frustrated, but the worry you feel suddenly returns. It’s the thought that maybe he doesn’t feel supported, that maybe what he’s doing isn’t enough, and that more than that, it's him choosing to deal with all this on his own, not even looking to his friends to comfort him.

Jimin and Soomin meet you for lunch at a restaurant that Saturday afternoon. The drive from Busan took longer than expected, they said, but you say you don’t mind. They’re visiting you like they always do every month, regardless of how busy they are back in their hometown, which was your home for a few years, too.

You were in the same class; your mom worked at the school, which was the only reason why you were able to attend a prestigious one in the first place. Even when you moved back to Daegu, you remained in touch with them. Despite the distance, none of you wanted to just let the friendship fade, and even when they had to stay back and you made a life out here in Seoul, they made sure to visit you as much as they could.

They’re why you were excited for the weekend to come and now, you’ll be enjoying a hearty meal, getting your nails done after, lounging at your apartment, and then heading to a club for a night out, which you only do whenever they’re around.

“So, has the boss situation improved?” Soomin asks, her eyes soft and laced with worry “Or should I storm the jerk’s house and give him a piece of my mind?”

“It has,” you chuckle. “So no need to call him names or fight anyone. I’m okay.”

“Well, you did call him a grumpy old grinch with nice hair the other week,” Jimin points out. “So… did he get a haircut?”

“No,” you laugh again. “And that was in the heat of the moment. I… I mean, he’s still grumpy but he’s not… as grumpy or unbearable. He’s been—”

“Oh hun, please don’t say he’s been kind and then give him a pass for how he’s been to you,” Soomin reprimands. “Mean people don’t just become nice all of a sudden. And if they do, that’s a controlling tactic - they want you to think they’re capable of change so you’ll soften up to them and then give them a pass every time they do asshole-y things again.”

“You watch too many shows,” you frown, although knowing her statement isn’t wrong; it’s just not something you can relate with Jungkook.

Sure, he hasn’t been the nicest, but he also hasn’t been the meanest. He’s just been… him, you suppose - a bit in the middle; frustrated at worst, quiet at best, stoic on most days. He does seem to live in his head a lot, and while you won’t go so far as characterizing him as kind, he definitely hasn’t been insufferable these past few days.

“I’ve just dealt with too many assholes, ___,” Soomin corrects. “They’re all the same. Men are shit.”

“Except for Jimin,” you correct.

“Except for Jimin,” she concurs.

“I accept the honor,” he bows. “But seriously, ___. How has it been? You… you seemed really sad last week and I would’ve driven here then if we didn’t have that work emergency.”

“I’m okay, I mean it. I’ve experienced worse,” you try to assure them.

“You do know that having experienced something worse doesn’t mean it’s fine for you to experience something bad again, right?” Soomin points out.

“I know, but it also means that I know my threshold for bad behavior,” you say. “Jungkook was in a lot of stress and I did mess up. But I think he’s making up for that.”

“By apologizing, you mean?” Soomin cocks an eyebrow.

Your sigh tells her that’s definitely not what Jungkook has done.

“Well, he approves my minutes and reviewed reports much quicker,” you reason. “And he doesn’t comment as much. But actually, I think he just pities me. And that’s worse.”

“Why would he pity you?” She asks.

“I don’t know. Maybe because I said that a tree fell on our roof and that mom got injured the weekend before my mishap,” you explain. “And then he found out how early I start my day just so I can get to him on time. He’s made adjustments after those and I… I think he’s guilty or something. And he’s just not being his usual angry self around me to make it up to me.”

“So in short, he’s still kind of an asshole,” Soomin says, prompting Jimin to snort and you to pout. “He could always just apologize if he’s guilty and realized he should treat you better.”

“Some things aren’t easy for other people to say, you know?” You say softly.

“That’s not an excuse,” she points out.

“It’s an explanation,” you counter. “Or one of them, I guess. I don’t know him well enough, but it’s better to think that he’s a decent person who just struggles with emotions than someone who willingly makes people��s lives difficult. I mean, that’s easier to manage and accept.”

“If that helps you deal and he’s indeed improving, then maybe I won’t have to storm his place then,” she smiles, taking your hand and kissing it as she likes to do.

She knows your habit of pressing your nails onto your skin, and she always said she likes to remind you that you deserve gentleness, too; she’ll give it if you can’t give it to yourself.

The rest of the afternoon goes as you planned, with all the banter you’d expect from your best friends amid the pampering and then the chick flick in the background as you get ready in your tiny apartment.

You smile at your reflection in the mirror. The high-waist trousers and sleeveless top ensemble is a refreshing sight for you, as you only really dress up like this for a night out. You’re in your usual pencil skirts and blouses otherwise, and in jeans and tops or oversized jumpers on a normal day.

Soomin’s done your makeup and Jimin compliments you as he looks on, and soon enough, they’re ready as well to head out.

“Where’re we going?” You ask from the passenger seat as Jimin navigates the busy streets of Seoul on a Saturday night.

“Some new restaurant the guys discovered,” Soomin responds. “I think it’s not far from here.”

“Okay, good. Hajoon’s been texting, asking what time we’ll get there,” you tell them.

“Geez, you were already with him last night. Tell him to be patient,” Jimin rolls his eyes.

Soomin laughs from the backseat as she teases that he’s just being jealous, to which he points out that he just hasn’t seen you in a while so the man can wait. And you assure Jimin that you’d gladly skip a night with Hajoon to be with your best friends, no questions asked.

You get there eventually, and you immediately spot the group because of the laughter coming from their table. There are four men; the two women are Soomin’s friends, which is how you got involved with Hajoon in the first place. You met some time last year and you’ve been hanging out with him since then - among other things - and you’ve been enjoying it, given the simplicity and lack of drama when he’s not being moody. He’s a warm body who knows how to use it and you’re a good type of relief, as he’d said; there’s really not much more you need as you just try to survive through life and make something out of yourself in however way you can.

Hajoon waves at you from his seat, gesturing to his left to say he’s saved that spot for you. You head there after greeting your other friends, with Jimin and Soomin following you.

Right as you sit down and greet the man next to you, you’re caught by surprise when he kisses your cheek and snakes his arm around your waist.

“Hey, I missed you today,” Hajoon hums, smiling at you the way he did last night and this morning; it definitely wasn’t this sweet when he left for a work trip last month.

“I… saw you today,” you frown, earning you a chuckle.

“I know; I was still thinking about you, though,” he says.

You give a smile - as genuine as you can make it - and then turn towards your friends to your left who are trying to hold in their laughter.

You order a beer after he offers you a glass of wine, and then go for the pork belly when he says the salmon here is good.

“Just craving for meat, that’s all,” you tell him.

“Is there anything else you want? Just let me know, okay?”

You hum your yes and then turn back to your friends after Hajoon makes jokes with his.

“Since when was he this sweet to you?” Soomin whispers with wide, curious eyes.

“Since never,” you reply. “I mean, we’ve never been affectionate outside of bed…”

“Is anything else different?” Jimin wonders, careful not to bring attention to your conversation.

You look back at how things were before Hajoon left and how it was when he was away. Nothing seemed different. You hung out at his place before he flew out, then you messaged each other every now and then during the one month he was abroad. He was more interested to talk, but given the time difference and the pressure and stress you’ve been under the past weeks, you didn’t bother much, neither did he.

But you also think back to last night - how he picked you up from your apartment, which he’s never done before, and how he prepared a luxurious dinner. He made you breakfast this morning, too, whereas you both usually just sleep in in tangled limbs and then separate once you wake up.

“He cooked me fancy stuff but I just thought he wanted to show off what he learned during his cooking masterclass,” you shrug. “And well… he seemed sweeter than normal.”

“Maybe he hooked up with someone while he was away and he’s guilty about it,” Jimin suggests.

“He didn’t say anything about it and he knows I wouldn’t mind,” you say. “We’re not exclusive, even if I don’t hang out with other guys.”

“Maybe he’s over the fucking and wants to do the loving bit now,” Soomin offers. “I mean, he always seemed more into you than you were into him.”

“He’s hot and decent when he’s in a good mood; that’s all I need,” you admit.

“But honestly, that’s probably it,” Soomin continues. “I think he’s hinting that he wants to be more.”

“But I don’t want to,” you whine. “I’m not ready.”

“You’re 30! When are you ever gonna be ready?” Soomin whisper-yells.

“Never!” You pout now. “I mean… Not with him.”

“Well, you’re gonna have to tell him soon, then,” Jimin sighs. “Before it gets messy. And you hate messy.”

“What if men just don’t have feelings?” Soomin wonders out loud. “That way, you can’t hurt them.”

“So that way, they can hurt you?” Jimin points out. “No. I’m not letting any men hurt either one of you, okay? I love you both too much.”

“We know,” you and Soomin say at the same time.

“But I agree with Jimin, ___. You’re gonna have to let that man next to you, who’s thankfully deaf, go. And then just find another person who can give you what you need,” Soomin continues. “Like, uh…”

She looks around the semi-packed restaurant to find some random man to just point to, her eyes widening in awe as she spots a table close by with the type of men she was just thinking about.

“Like them.”

You laugh at her, not taking her seriously, but still, you look towards the direction of her cocked head, only to feel your throat dry up and your heartbeat speed up. Your eyes widen in reflex as they meet the piercing gaze of the man who’d given you a headache for weeks. He also happens to look unfairly handsome in his white top and slicked back hair.

“Shit, I would totally go for them,” Soomin adds, “and I only even like men a quarter of the time.”

Your best friends look at you as they wait for a response, only to see a nervous look on your face, as if you’re seeing a ghost or something, and the way you turn to them and stutter almost seems like you are.

From the other table, Jungkook pants quietly. You finally looked his way, and he didn’t know what to expect your reaction to be - maybe a bit of shock, but definitely not this worried. Granted, you’re out with your friends at a restaurant that he and his friends frequent. It’s not the type of place they’d normally go for - this is a lot simpler, less private, and more accommodating than the exclusive restaurants and hotels they go to for dinners before heading to a club. But Jungkook loves their pork belly; he orders it every week, and tonight, he was craving for this specifically before going to a private party of one of Taehyung’s clients.

Jungkook had seen you when you sat down, and he’d been taken aback when the guy to your right immediately kissed your cheek; it seems he’s barely let go of your waist since then, too. Perhaps the man is your boyfriend - and Jungkook doesn’t know what made him think you wouldn’t have one - but it also seems that the one to your left is into you, too, at least based on how he smiles at you sweetly but rolls his eyes at the affectionate guy to your other side.

But other than the embarrassing obvious affection that both of them are directing at you, what made him lose his senses is how you look, and you’re even more beautiful than he imagined. Your hair is styled, your makeup is bolder than usual, and he won’t even start with how you’re dressed. It’s a lot more skin than he’s used to - you’re out, after all, and if he’ll go by what your companions are wearing, he supposes this is your stop before heading to some club to party, too. Whereas when you’re at work, you have the skirt and long-sleeved blouse ensemble that you wear everyday - still pretty, perhaps just a lot more reserved than what he’s seeing now.

He can’t take his eyes off you, even as you entertain your suppose-boyfriend, even when you engage in hushed conversation with the man and woman to your left, and even when you stare back at him, the initial shock now wearing down to a look of curiosity. Perhaps you’re wondering why he keeps glancing at you, too.

“I told you he’s got it bad,” Taehyung laughs from the other side of the table.

He’s noticed how his friend hasn’t said much in the last 10 minutes, his gaze directed at the loud table close by. One glance and Taehyung knew why.

“Well, we told him,” Seokjin corrects. “He only ever acts out when he’s threatened and he’s apparently threatened by his pretty assistant.”

“I’m not acting out,” Jungkook scowls, finally breaking the staring contest with you.

“You’ve never been this much of a jerk,” Seokjin says. “So yes, you’re acting out.”

Jungkook ignores them, his eyes turning back to you, and finds you downing two shots of tequila consecutively, then using the beer as your chaser. His knuckles unconsciously clench when your suppose-boyfriend scoots closer, whispering something in your ear, his lips grazing your skin.

Jungkook exhales deeply, trying to get a grip of himself. He’s acting foolishly. You obviously have a life outside of work, and it obviously includes going out for dinner and drinks with friends, having a boyfriend, and enjoying your youth the way he is. There’s a world outside of the routine you’ve both created, of the silence you both share, and the time you spend together, unknowingly learning about each other without meaning to, without wanting to.

“___,” Soomin calls your name one more time.

“Huh?” You answer, finally tearing your eyes away from Jungkook, who’d unfortunately captured your attention after you noticed he was there.

You’ve been used to his impeccable looks in his fancy suits; you’ve even gotten used to his tank top and sweatpants post-workout outfits every morning, and while you’re still not immune to that look, his night out wear fit for a party leaves you more choked up than normal.

Maybe it’s the black jeans that you spot as he sits on the edge of the couch, or the white button-up top with the rolled sleeves up to his elbow, or his haircut that makes him look a little more mature. Maybe it’s all that and the way he’s gazing at you, the look in his eyes something you can’t quite read. Perhaps like you, he’s surprised to see you here the way you’re shocked that he’d chosen this place to eat; it’s not exactly a fancy restaurant you know he likes eating at.

But he’s here, and so are you, and suddenly you feel exposed, as if the world outside of work that you’ve kept to yourself is baring open to the man who stands at the center of what you do everyday. And you’re not sure how you feel about that.

“I was just saying… those men are pretty hot and they look interested, too,” Soomin wiggles her eyebrows. “ I mean, they keep looking here.”

“One of them is my boss,” you finally say. “Guy on the right. That’s… uh, that’s Jungkook.”

“Holy fuck, hun,” Soomin chokes on her drink. “Why did you leave out the part about your rude boss being a fucking god?”

“Does it matter?” Jimin scowls. “He’s still rude.”

“It’s different when the guy’s hot. It makes the anger more intense, you know?” Soomin says. “Attractive people elicit more passionate feelings sometimes.”

“Excuse me, that’s not why I was angry,” you pout. “He was really being unfair.”

“Well, he was. But I think my point also applies,” Soomin argues. “I’d just like to warn you that workplace hotties are a menace. Except for Yoongi - he was heaven sent. ”

“Ah, the man who could’ve been,” Jimin sighs. “We at least knew he wouldn’t hurt you. He didn’t seem like the type.”

“Yeah, this dude over here is hot but he’s mean. And that’s your type,” Soomin smirks.

“Can we… not talk about this while he’s there? And while this other dude is right next to me?” You glare at your friends, especially at Soomin whose insinuation wasn’t lost on you. “It’s so… weird.”

“Hey, we’re here for you, okay?” Jimin softens as he looks at you. “Just let us know if one of them makes you feel uncomfortable. We can always just stay at your place and watch horror movies until morning and you and Soomin can lose your voices from screaming and then I’ll lose my hearing because of it.”

His words make you laugh. There’s a tenderness in Jimin that you’ve never heard from anyone else before. Even when he’s telling you to stop yelling because you live for the thrill of a jumpscare, he says it so tenderly while laughing before pulling you both in his embrace.

“I’m okay. I’m just… I don’t know, probably just not used to seeing him somewhere that isn’t the office or his home,” you reason. “And I feel a bit exposed, I guess. This is my world and his is… right there.”

You wrap your arms around your body subconsciously, realizing only you’d done it when Jimin asks if you’re cold, offering his jacket then taking it back because Hajoon might smack him or something.

You turn it down, knowing you actually feel hot more than anything. You’re dressed up and definitely dressed in less, and somehow having Jungkook see you like this is oddly making you shy, perhaps a little too conscious.

“Just don’t mind him,” Soomin advises. “It’s a restaurant. You obviously have a social life and he can’t fault you for it, nor make you feel weird about it. Just focus on us, okay? Or on Hajoon, if that’ll happen.”

You follow her words and try to block out Jungkook. You do slightly nod at him, as well as at Taehyung and Seokjin just to acknowledge their presence, but you continue on with your meal, as the dishes arrive soon after.

The pork belly is a winner; you’ll probably come back here for that alone. You do manage to dodge Hajoon’s attempts at feeding you, and your other friends engage with the three of you at the other end of the table. It’s going well for the most part, until Hajoon starts to act a little wary, a little tense.

“Hey,” he says, leaning close to you. “The guy on the other table has been looking at you all night. It’s kinda annoying.”

You glance at Jungkook’s table and he looks away when you do. “Oh, just don’t mind him,” you wave Hajoon off. “Maybe I remind him of someone or something.”

There’s a beat of silence, and you feel him tense even more, as you look up and see that he’s staring down the man on the other side. Hajoon’s had a bit to drink, and you know he tends to be cocky and irrational when he is. You groan once he shakes his head, saying he’s gonna give “that stranger” a piece of his mind because “he can’t be looking at my girl like that.”

The initial annoyance you feel turns into panic once he stands from his seat and storms to the other table. You follow him, with your friends just looking in worry. His friends are more encouraging of what he wants to do though.

“What the fuck is your problem staring at my girl like that?” Hajoon mumbles, acting all tough when he’s never threatened nor confronted anyone like this, even when he’s drunk.

Jungkook seems taken aback. Perhaps it’s the aggression he didn’t expect, or maybe it’s finally having to acknowledge your presence in the restaurant, just in an unfortunate way.

“Your girl?” He scoffs.

The way the man is speaking to him is quite annoying, but he also knows your boyfriend is slightly drunk, so he dismisses him because Jungkook doesn’t need this drama tonight, especially not in front of you.

Hajoon hates the way this stranger is looking at him and not taking him seriously. He’d seen how he kept glancing at you, perhaps trying to get your attention away from him, and he’s really had enough. His words are slurring but this is the courage he needs to stand up for you. You’ve said before how unwanted attention makes you uncomfortable, and he’s gonna do something about it before the man gets to try anything with you.

“Yeah, my girl. You seem to have a problem with that, don’t you?” Hajoon grunts.

“My only problem is you making a scene right now,” Jungkook shakes his head. “You’re drunk and insecure and you’re embarrassing yourself in front of your girl.”

Not that you expected him to back off, but you didn’t actually think that Jungkook would further press Hajoon’s buttons. The man is drunk and insecure and indeed embarrassing, but getting told so is a blow to the ego, especially in your presence. And so you’re not surprised that this just makes him angrier, and since you’ve never dealt with this version of him before, you don’t know how to pacify him.

You didn’t actually think that Hajoon had a daring bone in his body despite being the way he is, but when he attempts to lunge at Jungkook, you’re left in disbelief. You’re quick enough to pull Hajoon back before he lands a fist on the other man’s face, but he’d been worked up enough that he hits the glass of wine on the table, knocking it over and causing the drink to spill on Jungkook’s thin white top.

“Mr. Jeon!” You shriek, pulling Hajoon back more forcefully before pushing him to the side so you can get ahead.

You take the napkin from the table and wipe Jungkook’s wet clothed torso, slowing down immediately as you realize what exactly it is you’re doing.

“I… uh,” you stutter, standing straight up and mirroring his questioning eyes.

It was a reflex for you, considering that you constantly make sure that he’s dressed impeccably.

“You know him?!” Hajoon asks in disbelief, tugging on your hand now so you’ll turn to him.

“He’s my boss, you idiot!” smacking him on the chest as you glare at him. “And you just put my job in jeopardy and for what?”

“Well, what can he do?” Hajoon challenges. “Get you fired because of me? Does he own the company and shit?”

“My father does,” Jungkook responds. “And I’m the Vice President.”

Hajoon just rolls his eyes but you aren’t amused. You glance at your table and gesture for one of his friends to take him, so one of them does. He stands up and pulls Hajoon away before he can do or say anything else.

“I’m so, so sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you say, your head bowed down as you apologize. “I…”

The mess on his outfit is too much; the red has stained the white top and you know he feels sticky. He looks like he has somewhere to go after this and that makes it worse.

“I– I can call Mr. Ri to get the car in here. I can get extra clothes from your travel bag,” you say, knowing that Jungkook always has a bag filled with clothes for emergency flights or check-ins.

You get your phone and make a call, telling Jungkook that his chauffeur will be here soon. You glance towards your friends who are still pacifying a drunk Hajoon, and you decide that they can handle all that. Right now, your priority is Jungkook.

You walk out towards the car that’s on hazard mode outside the restaurant and pick out the top that’s most appropriate for a night out, which happens to be a semi-loose black button-up. You head back inside, with Taehyung and Seokjin informing you that Jungkook has gone to the washroom, so you scurry towards there and knock at the door.

“Mr. Jeon, I have your black long sleeves here,” you say as your knuckles tap on the wood. “Just tell me–”

You’re interrupted by the sudden opening of the door, the sight of Jungkook in his jeans hanging by his waist and his unbuttoned white top catching you by surprise. His hair’s a bit damp and so is his bare torso, as you see that he’s tried to clean the wine off his body.

You catch yourself looking longer than you should, and you immediately look away as you hand him over what he needs.

“Please let me know what else you need, sir,” you say, your eyes glued to the pretty wallpaper as you awkwardly stand outside the washroom.

“Jungkook,” he says, earning him a curious look. “I mean, you don’t need to be formal. We’re not at work.”

You nod, realizing it does sound weird to address him as such in a casual setting.

“Okay… Jungkook,” you mumble, but even the way it rolls off your tongue is a bit odd. You’re not used to it, and you hope you won’t ever be.

He closes the door and you take this time to calm yourself down. You’ve been so worried since you saw the glass tip over and mess up his outfit, and given his hot-headedness, you’re a little surprised that he didn’t fight back. He does have a reputation to uphold but even then, stopping himself from punching Hajoon must’ve taken a lot.

The door opens and you sigh in relief; his outfit still looks good and he’s fully clothed, so there’s no lingering looks this time anymore. You take the top that he gives you, and you take the chance to apologize.

“I’m so sorry,” you start. “I don’t know why he— I mean, he’s a bit drunk and he’s not usually like this.”

“You’re not the one who should apologize so don’t,” he responds.

“Well, he won’t apologize so I will.”

“You didn’t spill the drink and you didn’t come at me. That was him,” he counters.

You just shrug, choosing to just concede. “I’ll just return this to Mr. Ri.”

He calls your name before you turn around to leave.

“I didn’t mean to cause a rift between you and your boyfriend,” he says, much too low and too gentle than you’re used to. “I hope I didn’t ruin anything.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you answer softly. “We just, uh, we just hang out.”

You don’t know why you feel the need to correct this misinformation. Maybe you just want to remind yourself because you’re not anyone’s anything; hearing Hajoon claim you as yours made you want to just create that distance even more.

Jungkook wants to push it, to ask more. The man clearly acts like he’s your lover, given the physical affection and the way he tried to stand up for you. But there’s a bit of shame as you state that you and the man “just hang out,” and there’s that wonder he feels - how can you be with someone without being with them, and if turning away people who are clearly into you is a tendency you have. There’s Min Yoongi, after all, who’d liked you enough to remain as your friend when you needed one despite how he felt.

“Okay then,” Jungkook nods. “And your job’s not in jeopardy. Don’t take responsibility for a stupid act you didn’t do.”

You bow in thanks, not much used to this side of him that’s understanding and even calm. You suppose he’d seen you worry about your job, had seen you look embarrassed over something that you didn’t even do, and perhaps he saw the discomfort over how Hajoon was talking about you.

You’re about to walk out of the hallway when his call of your name stops you again, prompting you to turn around.

“About earlier… did I… did I make you feel uncomfortable?” He asks, the worry in his voice surprising you.

You debate over playing it down or telling the truth, but you go with the latter.

“A… a little,” you admit, looking away.

You hear him sigh, and there’s a look of guilt in his eyes as you turn to him.

“I’m so—”

The footsteps of another diner in the hallway disrupts him, and you both make way so he can use the washroom, too. Perhaps you and Jungkook had taken so long, and you don’t want others to conspire about what’s happening, so you walk out and tell him again that you’ll just return his clothing to Mr. Ri.

From your table, Soomin and Jimin watch the awkwardness of your parting of ways, with you scurrying out the door and Jungkook returning to his seat with a deep sigh before glaring at Hajoon.

“He does sound and look like an asshole, aside from being hot,” Soomin observes. “That’s totally ___’s type.”

“Are you saying she likes her boss?” Jimin asks incredulously.

“I’m just saying that’s her type, not that she likes him,” Soomin corrects. “There’s a difference. I still hate him for making things hard for her. I wish he would stop treating her like that. You and I know she won’t quit anytime soon. Especially because he’s a Jeon.”

“I know,” Jimin sighs. “I wish we could protect her from all this, too. But she’s always done what she wanted to do. And we wait for her to tell us when things are hard; we just hold her hand whenever it is.”

“That’s all we can do, I guess,” Soomin responds. “Sometimes though I wish she’d just… let someone else do more than just hold her hand, you know? It could’ve been Yoongi, or even Hajoon before all this mess. It could’ve been you.”

“You know that’ll never happen,” Jimin laughs bitterly, with Soomin knowing exactly what he means. “You’re only ever just her friend or her lover; you can’t be both.”

Soomin hums in agreement, as she’d seen you draw the line with the men you’d come across with. You’d make it clear if friendship is all you want; you’d be straightforward if it’s just sex you’re seeking. You give either just your heart or your body and you’re always careful not to give both. There are parts of you that you don’t want to share, that you don’t want to expose to them; there’s a kind of hurt that you don’t want to experience.

They watch you walk back inside and then head to their table, where you sit next to a buzzed Hajoon who still has half a mind to look at you guiltily.

“I think I’ll head back home after this,” you tell the group. “Kinda not in a partying mood anymore.”

Your other friends apologize on Hajoon’s behalf, proceeding to ask you if that was really your boss and if he’d threatened your job because of it, remarking that it would be such an asshole move of him to do that or to even get mad at you for something you didn’t do.

You come to Jungkook’s defense; he didn’t say anything to that effect at all. Perhaps you’d been the unfair one who assumed that he would - that he’d demand that you apologize, that he’d use this against you.

“He’s… not like that,” you say, meaning it. You turn to your best friends who have disagreeing looks. “He… he tried to apologize for making me feel uncomfortable,” you say softly. “No one’s ever done that before.”

“Look, ___,” Hajoon starts, but you cut him off.

“I don’t really wanna talk about it,” you sigh. “I’ll just pay my bill and head out.”

You, Soomin, and Jimin all pay accordingly and then leave the restaurant, with you turning to Jungkook and his friends, bowing as a form of goodbye.

“Hey, why don’t we buy desserts at a convenience store and have our own party at your place?” Jimin suggests as you all settle in his car.

“That would be nice,” you hum. “This outfit wouldn’t be such a waste then.”

So that’s what you do, as your best friends treat you to all the snacks you love - a usual occurrence, really, as they used to do that back in Busan to cheer you up during the days when you were feeling sad. It’s one of the things that you allow them to spoil you with and they take advantage of that, as you go home with weeks’ worth of goods for you to enjoy.

You also picked up some drinks on the way, so you play some music and dance around with your wine glasses and take shots in between. It’s too early to be drunk but 11PM might as well be 3AM. You’re all seated snugly in your tiny couch as you watch some variety show on mute, laughing at the hosts' antics even if you can’t hear anything.

“Tonight wasn’t so bad,” you huff, leaning on Soomin’s shoulder as you doze off. “Both of you are all I need. Thank you for never disappointing me.”

They know you don’t always let yourself be this sentimental. They also know that when you do, all you want is for them to listen and to hold you. And that’s what they do, as you eventually clean up and fall asleep on the mattress with them, the events from earlier slowly fading away.

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smusherina · 5 months

Text

yard work - chapter 13 (regina george x reader)

fandom: Mean Girls (all media)

pairing: Regina George x OFC/Reader

summary: You'd been in the same class as Regina George since kindergarten. You'd lived on the same street even longer. Once upon a time, when life was sandbox disputes and who got the swing first arguments, you'd even been friends. Now, in junior year of high school, you doubted she even remembered you. The same couldn't be said about you. You definitely remembered her.

warning(s): derogatory slurs! several of them!

chapter 1 / chapter 2 / chapter 3 / chapter 4 / chapter 5 / chapter 6 / chapter 7 / chapter 8 / chapter 9 / chapter 10 / chapter 11 / chapter 12 / chapter 14

It was Friday. The last day of school, the night of the talent show, and just a few days before Christmas. They'd be passing out the candy cane-grams. There'd be some assembly, probably.

Your leg jittered restlessly while you tried to focus on your bio paper. What kind of sadistic fuck assigned an essay on the last day before break? The biology teacher, apparently. He had a superiority complex, you were sure. Allergic to happiness.

Your mind kept drifting back to the photo album. Surely, Regina had it. You'd put it in her locker on Wednesday, so she'd have found it first thing Thursday morning. You hadn't dared to take a peek in her locker, afraid Gretchen would sniff you out again.

Something had clearly gone down between them. Gretchen didn't sit with them at lunch, instead opting for her boyfriend's clique. She didn't seem to fit in too well and Jason didn't seem too pleased to have her there. Karen and Regina sat by themselves, conversing casually.

Cady had been banished somewhere. You'd heard talk Aaron had dumped her. You knew Janis and Damien weren't talking to her after she turned her back on them. Since the whole Kälteen bar shebang and the subsequent smear campaign Regina had doled out, she hadn't been exactly welcome at any table. From what you understood, Gretchen and Cady were on speaking terms, but Karen and Gretchen weren't, but Cady and Karen were. It was all terribly confusing.

You had a table for yourself. Some of your old friends crowded the ones nearby, quite pointedly not sitting with you. You were no longer cool, it seemed. Easier to focus on your paper, you told yourself. The cafeteria was serving chilli today. The slop was slightly too watery and the meat was a mystery, but it'd do. You'd run out of food at home. You'd wanted a goddamn Christmas dinner and a good slab of ham got pricy. Couldn't rely on Mrs George for a feast this time around.

"Hey," Someone called near you. You looked up, surprised somebody was talking to you. A boy, more specifically a jock judging by the varsity jacket. "You good?"

"What?" Your brows furrowed. "Yeah?"

He smiled smarmily. "Cool."

And he walked away. You kept looking as he went, staring after his back. His buddies were looking your way, the same kinds of grins on their faces. That was odd. Didn't bode well.

It didn't take long for you to find out why. The period following lunch was when Damien would be visiting classrooms as Santa Claus, handing out candy canes.

He walked right up to you with a grin hidden under the fake Santa beard, wiggling his eyebrows all the while.

"The whole bag..." He drawled. "Impressive."

Confused, you peered into the sack. A couple dozen candy canes filled it, apparently all for you. You picked one out, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach as well as the snickering of the boys in the back rows.

Dyke. The message was just one word. It was clearly assigned to you, your whole name displayed proudly. Your body went numb, hands holding the candy limply. There was no signature to show who they were from. People were staring at you. Damien had lingered awhile to see what'd been written to you. The grin behind his beard had turned into a shocked scowl.

"What... What do they say?" Cady, of all people, the nerve of her, asked. She was seated a few rows from you.

"Alright, Mr Leigh, thanks for-" Ms Norbury tried to intervene.

"Dyke." You read out loud. Then you pulled out another. "Lesbo." And another. "Carpet muncher." The boys had trouble holding in their laughs. Another. "Queer." There were others you didn't deign to read out loud. Freak. Pervert. Degenerate. Homo.

If not for a few people finding all this amusing, it would've been dead silent in the classroom.

"These were supposed to be checked before handing out." Ms Norbury strode up to you and promptly confiscated the candies. Her face was set, expression severe, as she regarded Damien sternly.

"I- that wasn't my job. I don't know how, how they would've..." You watched Damien try to put it together.

"Well, is it really offensive if it's true?" Dylan, if you remembered correctly, piped up. He was a sporty guy, decently popular but nothing special. Now, though, he might as well have been an A-lister with how utterly low you'd plummeted.

Murmurs spread out around you. Damien and Ms Norbury retreated to a corner of the classroom to figure out how in the hell this had happened. People were looking at you. Your skin was crawling. It couldn't be Janis who told. She was in the same boat as you and she didn't have the power to do something like this. To make the committee ignore hateful messages meant some strings had been pulled. The only other person that knew, that could realistically do this, was Regina.

You bit your lip, closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Okay. You got the message. The album had been too much. This was a sign to stay away, to forget all the sentimentalities you'd had.

"Hey, calm down now, we'll figure this out- hey!" You didn't pause to listen to Ms Norbury when you booked it out of the stifling classroom. You couldn't bear to be there any longer.

You hid in the bathroom. Both hands held against your mouth so you wouldn't make a noise, you cried long and hard. Your breathing was choppy and laboured, and in no time at all your nose was blocked off entirely. Your eyes stung and your vision blurred.

The bell rang and pretty soon people came into the bathroom. You refused to get out, pretending to take the longest shit ever. It didn't take very long for the people coming in to discuss what had gone down in one of the junior calc classes.

It spread like wildfire. You were pretty sure the boys had nicked some of the candy canes from Ms Norbury since you could hear people reading the notes out loud, the rustling of the plastic covering.

"Who even is that?"

"Who cares? A total freak is what she is. Oh my gosh, Steph, do you think..."

"What?"

"Do you think she used the girls' bathroom? She's probably spread her diseases all over the seats! We're all gonna have gonorrhoea!"

You wanted to sink into the ground and never see daylight again. By the time the bell rang again, signalling the start of the next period, the rumours had inflated and grown disproportionately in severity.

Apparently, you were riddled with sexually transmitted diseases, preyed on freshmen and sold them hard drugs, behaved creepily in locker rooms, and had had a stint with Cady Heron while she was still with Aaron Samuels. You guessed that last one had to do with the time you'd dragged her into the janitor's closet to yell at her about the Kälteen bars.

In short, you were fucked. Your life was fucked. You'd hoped, so hoped, that even if you wouldn't get everything you wanted, you'd get some. You wouldn't get a high school girlfriend, wouldn't have slumber parties, wouldn't be normal. You wouldn't be Regina's friend. Fine. At least you could've had a quiet life, gone to community college and worked at the shop, had some buddies, and maybe lost your virginity one day. Not even that now. Not even a little bit of that. Your future in this town was just no longer there. You had nothing. You were nothing.

You skulked out of the bathroom once you were sure there'd be nobody in the halls. You got into your car and drove home. Just as you'd slumped down onto the couch, the house phone rang. Groaning, you went to answer. If it was your dad, missing it would mean there'd be hell to pay.

"Hello?" Your voice was croaky. It hurt to talk.

"Hi, sweetie! You don't sound too good." Mrs George's chirp greeted you. "I assume you had to leave school 'cause of that. I just happened to see you drive by. Rick got called to work last minute and Kylie's got tutoring till late. Come keep me company?"

"I'm not feeling too well, I'm sorry..." You said, holding the phone to your ear while your other arm wrapped around your body. You tried to breathe deep and not burst out crying, again. Your eyes felt swollen shut.

"Oh, I'll come by with some soup, then," She sounded so genuinely concerned.

You bit your lip. Tummy rumbling in its emptiness, you decided now would be as good of a time as any to bite the bullet.

"Actually, uh, if it's not too much to ask, and um- I-" You took in a shuddering breath. "You don't have to say yes, it's totally okay and I'm sorry if this is, like, too much-"

"Sweetpea, just ask." She chuckled.

"I don't have any food. Or, like, I have ingredients for Christmas 'cause I wanted to make dinner for myself, but I guess I forgot I have to eat before then too?" You tried to laugh, but the sound was strained. "Um, could you take me to the soup kitchen downtown?"

You could've driven yourself. You could've, in that you were capable of driving yourself, but with how your vision was impaired, how your body ached with loneliness, and how you weren't sure you wouldn't just impulsively drive into oncoming traffic, you doubted you would've survived the trip.

"No." She said bluntly. You flinched, feeling the refusal like a knife to the gut. "No, absolutely not. We are going grocery shopping and getting you food to last the rest of the damn year. I'm picking you up."

"Mrs George, I don't have money-"

"You shouldn't be spending your hard-earned money like that. Doesn't your dad send you enough to cover utilities?"

"He sends me grocery money. I gotta pay for gas and stuff on my own."

Mrs George's resounding silence spoke volumes of her opinion on that. "I'm coming to get you. I'm buying you groceries and then we're gonna meal prep. Okay?"

"Okay."

When Mrs George saw you, her determined attitude shifted to that of maternal worry. You fought hard not to break down, though all you really wanted to do was curl into her and cry your little heart out.

She drove you to Whole Foods, a place way out of your budget. But she insisted, so there was little you could do. She took you from aisle to aisle, prattling on and on, chatting about this and that. You listened mostly silently, humming here and there.

She picked out a lot of canned stuff, like beans and tomato purée. All that stuff was made to last forever, so you wouldn't always have to buy fresh ingredients. She bought all your favourite snacks, which she somehow remembered. When you commented on that, she just pointed at her temple with a knowing grin. Mothers never forget, she'd said.

Once you were all done, the cart was quite literally overflowing. The total nearly made your stomach drop out of your ass. Mrs Geoge simply flashed her black card and, without even a wince, paid the price. The receipt was, like, three feet long.

Carrying it all to her car was a daunting task, but a worker did come to help you. A young man, probably home from college, was all too eager to carry the bags for Mrs George.

The way he was blushing all the way up to his ears, the way she was amused by him but not receptive, made you think about what Regina had said months ago. You'd been on your way to her nail appointment and she'd gone on a tangent about how women died at menopause.

Mrs George was thriving. She was above it all. Her worth, or mortality, wasn't determined by the men around her. She'd been cheated on, continuously neglected by her husband, and put down by her teenage daughter, and still, she was beautiful. She existed independently.

In short, you were right and Regina was wrong. You saw things how they really were. She saw things tilted to the left, through a warped lens. The confirming of this brought you no comfort, she'd already ruined you and there was no redeeming herself after this, at least not for you.

"Phew, what a trip, right?" She nudged you with her elbow as she buckled her seatbelt.

You nodded along, voice still weak. You buckled in as well.

"I'll pick you up for the talent show." She said as she turned away from the parking lot. "Oooh, we should have a night in. Order some pizzas and slob around the couch. How's that sound?"

"I don't think I should go to the talent show."

"Oh, why's that?"

"Just... Something happened at school. I don't wanna go."

Mrs George frowned and glanced at you. "Honey, you know you can tell me anything. I still think you should come."

"Everybody hates me." You faced the window and crossed your arms. Very mature.

"I'm sure that's not true." She sighed. "I'm not supposed to tell you, but Regina's got something prepared for you. I think you should go see her at least."

Your face twisted in anger. "Something prepared for me- like she prepared something for me today? I don't fucking think so."

"Language." She said and you grumbled. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing. It's nothing." You rubbed your hands down your jeans. "It's not gonna be good. She's gonna humiliate me."

"It's supposed to be a surprise, but I can guarantee that she's not going to humiliate you."

"What do you know?" You turned to her with narrowed eyes.

"I've been hearing her practice, is all." She responded, tone much too light.

You studied her face carefully. "Fine."

She smiled, seemingly relieved. Then, as if to cut the tension in the car, said:

"Oh, and by the way, I'm filing for divorce." With a giddy smile on her face, she blurted it out. You just stared for a while, almost suffering whiplash from the sudden change in topic.

"Uh... Finally." You laughed a little as you said that.

"Yeah!" She laughed with you. "It's been a long time coming. I just needed to sort some things out. Emotionally and financially. I had to get rid of some investments so I wouldn't have to pay alimony."

Your jaw dropped. The Georges were, like, filthy rich. Rich beyond reason, excess income to a ridiculous degree. You'd always assumed it was Mr George's money. How archaic of you.

"I... I kinda wished you'd done it sooner." You looked forward again. She was driving carefully since the snow made the roads prone to ice.

"Me too. The girls... They... I thought that having two parents would be the most stable, safe environment for them. I was wrong."

"Yeah." You swallowed. "Um. Since we're, like, just saying things. I'm, by the way, gay. Like, a lesbian."

"That's wonderful, honey!"

"Yeah." You couldn't say you agreed.

"Should we go get you a haircut?"

"I don't need to look any more butch than I do."

"I don't know, I think you'd look dashing." She feigned light-hearted. "Regina might like it."

"Mrs George!"

Notes: More drama! Yay! Do y'all think Regina did it?

Taglist posted separately. Please comment on the taglist post to be added on there :)

#mean girls #mean girls 2004 #mean girls 2024 #regina george #regina george x reader #regina george x you #regina george x oc #regina george x ofc #mean girls x reader #lesbian regina george #wlw #fic: yard work

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hellfire--cult · 1 year

Text

Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel

Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 (End)

WC: 14k

⚠️ +18 MDNI, Stripper!Eddie, nervousness, fluff, self doubt, soft touches, mentions of nausea, signs of anxiety, angst (i won't spoil any more of the chapter)

Plot: You thought you were cursed with your shyness, but after one embarrassing night, you decide it's time to change, and you believe someone might be able to help with that.

Summary: Was it all how it seemed? Whatever doubt you had, you find the answer to, and it is time to move forward.

A/N: And we reached the end... I never thought this story would blow up they way it did, but I am so grateful for every single one of you that always reblogged, commented, messaged me to know when the next chapter would be out... I cannot thank you enough. This story is very dear to me, and I already have a few requests for these characters! Hope you all still follow me through the next stories I will post!

You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!

Taglist is closed - Follow me for updates and put notifications on!

PART 8 - FINALE

Robin Buckley was in cloud nine at the moment.

After a successful date on Friday, she had spent the entire weekend with Vickie, consuming their love with their first kiss, their first time together, and realizing that they both were stupid idiots who didn’t make a move because they were too scared to do so.

So now, on Sunday morning she finally is back in her apartment, singing in the shower as she washes her body from the weekend’s activities. She finally got the girl she had been desiring ever since she met her. Vickie was not far behind, but Vickie had confessed to Robin that it would be her first official time dating a woman. Robin was more than glad to be the first one to do so.

When she got out, she was still humming, starting to dress herself for the day, and then her phone dings, making her grab it and smile widely as she reads the notification. Vickie had messaged her ‘Miss you already :(‘ and Robin couldn’t help but giggle at it and jump up and down in her excitement. She cannot wait to tell the girls, to tell you, to tell Steve. She had disconnected herself from her phone the whole weekend because she just wanted to spend it with Vickie, entirely.

She whistled as she stepped in her boots, replying to Vickie as she did, saying she missed her too and it was the truth. They were entering the Honeymoon phase already, and she cannot wait to go on that ride. She went into the messages she has with you, and instantly messaged you.

“Hey, you up?” After a few minutes, there was another response.

“Yeah, I am.” Robin smiled at that and replied back to you as excitement ran through her veins.

“I’m going up and we can go get a cup of coffee!” She didn’t even wait for your response, she just got up from her bed and grabbed her wallet to pull some bills out and put them back in her pocket. She walked out of the room, shaking her wet hair from side to side to dry it a bit and have a little bit of movement.

How were you going to react? Are you going to be happy? You probably will, and she can’t wait to tell you everything Vickie and her had done through the weekend, except for some details that remain private. She can’t wait to tell you how they got together, how the confessions occurred, and what they ate on Friday night. She was rocking back and forth on her heels as she went to pick you up. She knew that she had to pick you up to get the coffee so that you would move. Many times you declined because you were lazy, but Robin always made you get up from the couch, and you didn’t have a say in it.

When she reached your floor, she walked towards your door whistling softly. She knocked on your door in a happy tune.

“Wakey wakey!” She says through the door for you to hear. She licked her lips as she waited for you, still rocking back and forth on her heels. Some seconds passed making Robin become impatient and she started knocking on the door again. “Come on, let’s go!”

“Alright, alright!” She hears your muffled voice on the other side, unlocking the door and you get out of your apartment through a small gap in between the door and the frame. Robin got confused at that because you didn’t open your door entirely, but she dismissed it with a shrug. What confused her even more was what you were wearing.

“Well hello to you too, cranky.” Robin says and you yawn, shaking your head at her and that’s when Robin noticed the bags under your eyes, and how red they looked. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m just tired, didn’t sleep an inch last night.” You say to her and she hummed, still worried about how you were looking as the both of you started walking to the elevator. You had make up, and when you didn’t sleep you always put some concealer on after learning how to properly use it. Maybe you just didn’t have the time or energy to do it this morning. Once the metal doors closed, Robin talked again.

“I think I haven’t seen that shirt or those pants in ages.” She says and you look down at yourself, a gulp passing your throat as you fix the ponytail you were wearing.

“I threw everything else in the washer.” Was your short reply, and Robin’s heart accelerated because something didn’t feel right, but she was hoping it was just a wrong hunch, just something that she was overthinking probably. “You didn’t message me all weekend.”

And that was the queue for Robin to smile widely as she started talking nonstop about her date. You were faintly smiling at her as she told you how Vickie had tripped when walking in the street with her and she took the opportunity to hold onto her hand. She told you how it was Vickie the one that confessed in the diner that she felt something else for her, besides friendship.

“And then, outside of the diner, I just grabbed her and kissed her. I was just so impatient, maybe too anxious, but I couldn’t help myself! She just looked so pretty under the neon lights…” She continues saying as you both slowly walk down the street. Your face was down towards the floor all the time as if you were watching your steps.

“Doesn’t explain why you didn’t talk to me all weekend Robs.” You try to let out a giggle, but it comes out as a small huff, which Robin barely noticed as her eyes lit up in excitement.

“I– well, she kind of invited me to her apartment… Afterwards.” Robin was blushing now, rubbing the back of her neck, not noticing the pained expression that had crossed your features.

“That’s… Great Robs, so you just spent Saturday at Vickie’s?” You ask to keep the conversation going as a man is walking your way. Robin didn’t notice how you traded places with her, putting yourself closer to the street as the man passed between the building and Robin.

“Yeah… I just wanted to be with her, you know? And yesterday we could talk more calmly about what we were, where we were standing.” She explains, her whole face red as the memories keep flashing in Robin’s mind, blissfulness all over her body.

“And where are you both standing?” You ask her, now looking towards the ground again. Robin’s chest filled with excitement and giddiness again, twirling in her place as she walked with you.

“We’re dating!” Robin smiles dumbly and completely dazed as you two keep walking. She really can’t wait to tell the other girls, wait till they know that she and Vickie finally made it work. She can’t wait to tell Steve that he can eat his words, telling her she had no balls to tell Vickie what she felt… Though, Robin believes Steve was doing it to give her some sort of boost, and impulse.

“I am so happy for you Robs.” You try to sound enthusiastic, you really are trying because you are happy. You are happy for your friend.

But everything else was just numb.

“Thank you! Okay we’re here! Should we get our table on the corner like we always do–” Your eyes drift up and into the coffee shop. The green eyed young man was at the counter, already waving your way because for the past month you have been getting coffee in this family business. His name is Adam.

And your eyes looked down at the floor again.

“I– I prefer to go back home Robs, I don’t feel all that well…” You excuse yourself and Robin turns to look at you with an eyebrow raised up in worry.

“Are you okay? Shit, you should have told me you felt sick…” Now Robin felt guilty for not giving you the chance to tell her that you were feeling like this. She acted out of selfishness on wanting to tell everything to you that she didn’t think about you or your feelings at the moment. You look at her and you shake your head desperately not wanting her to feel guilty.

“Yeah, just tired…” Robin nods at that because she can see the bags under your eyes, she doesn’t know why you were tired. You probably ended up playing games till late like you always did.

“Alright, then let's get the coffee to go.” She says, giving one step inside the coffee shop. Your nervous hand reaches quickly to her sleeve, making her stop in her tracks and give you a puzzled look.

“Um… There’s another coffee shop, called Sunflower!” You say to her, almost desperately, only getting a confused frown from Robin’s part.

“It’s like– five more blocks away! Let’s just get coffee here and go back.” Robin turns and you let go of her sleeve, standing still in your place as you look down to the floor. She felt that you weren’t following her, so she turned around again, examining you. A weird feeling sat in her stomach, something along the lines of dread, of worry. She waited for you to talk, waited for you to say the words she was fearing of hearing again from you, words that she was happy you finally let go of, or— that’s what Robin thought.

“U-Um… Can you get my order?”

Those words that you only said when you couldn’t buy something because a man was at the cash register. Milkshakes you asked Robin to buy for you because the big man behind the counter had winked at you. Coffees that Robin had to drive and get for you because no female baristas were working at any close coffee shops. Robin’s eyes widened as she slowly turned to see the puzzled look of Adam, looking at you both as he took the order from an old man that was sitting in a corner.

“Please… tell me that you didn’t just ask me that.” Robin’s eyes looked for yours but you were looking down at the floor, maybe in shame, maybe in fear, maybe in complete embarrassment, maybe in sorrow, maybe in despair. Robin’s heart crumbled in her chest as she pulled you away from the coffee shop’s entrance, grabbing you by your hand and dragging you a couple of steps away.

“Robin– You’re hurting me–” Robin let go of your hand and made a sharp turn with a frown to her eyebrows, tears prickling in her eyes as she shook her head at you.

“What happened!?” She asks you and you gulp heavily, shaking your head at her. Robin wanted answers, she needed them, and you were not giving them to her. What happened this weekend for you to act like this again? What happened to you? What made you go back to the starting line?

“N-Nothing, I don’t know what you mean–” You started but you could already see Robin’s hair almost frizzing up in anger, or in confusion.

“Don’t play fucking dumb with me! The clothes!? The lack of makeup!? Your hair in a loose ponytail and you didn’t even comb it!” Robin was breathing heavily now as your eyes didn’t focus on her face any longer, just looking to the side as tears started filling them. “And now, you couldn’t even LOOK at the guy you’ve been ordering coffee from for the past month!”

“I just feel weird today, that’s all.” Was your short answer, and Robin tilted her head at you, her brain trying to work but she didn’t want to lose you. She didn’t want to lose the you from the last two months, and she was feeling like your brain shut that person out. She remembers how you didn’t let her see inside your apartment at all, and she straightened up, turning to start walking back to the complex. “Robin?”

“Come on.” Was her only command. You were confused as you followed her, walking the streets at a quick pace, making your breathing grow heavy. Once you got to your complex, you both got inside the elevator and you let out a sigh but then your eyes widened when Robin only pressed the button of your floor.

“Aren’t you going home?” You ask, nerves already creeping up in your body, a cold sweat invading your fingertips, and you felt yourself growing more desperate the sound of passing each floor dinged inside the elevator. “Robs, I feel sick, really–”

“Shut the fuck up.” You jumped at her words. She never cussed at you, she actually almost never did in any circumstance. The metal doors opened, and your eyes widened, walking quickly to reach your door before Robin could catch you, but she was quick to grab onto the handle of your door, looking at you.

“Um… It’s a mess inside–”

“Open the door.” You blinked at her and you slowly shook your head. She can’t see it. She can’t see what you did. You will just disappoint her. You know it. Robin’s eyebrow twitched and she took a deep breath in, trying to calm herself. “Open the door.”

She wasn’t going to leave, and you knew that. There was no escaping this confrontation, and you weren’t going to win it. You could run away, but Robin would sit and wait for you to come back and open the door. She wasn’t going to leave. She wasn’t going to give up on you, on this, even if you had already given up. You took your keys out of your pocket with a trembling hand, and Robin held your hand and helped you guide it into the keyhole, opening the door.

Robin walked in, turning the light on. She looked around and everything seemed to look the exact same, except… The trash bags that sat outside your room, piled up one next to the other. Robin’s eyebrows twitched, fear settling in her chest as she walked towards one of the bags. You closed the door behind you and your eyes widened when Robin bent down in one of the bags.

“What the fuck…” You hear her say and that’s when your mind started spiraling again. Everything was coming back to you as she slowly raised up again, and she turned to look at you with the purple dress in her hands. “Why… Why are all your clothes in trash bags?”

“I–I was doing some… Marie Condo cleaning thing.” You lied, but it came out as a tremble, your eyes scanning the dress in Robin’s hands, memories flashing over your eyes and your brain was just telling you how delusional you were being. How stupid you were for trying to be someone like that. You knew you were never that, you knew it, and you weren’t going to ever be.

“Cleaning my fucking ass!” Robin yelled, making you jump again. Why was she so mad? Why isn’t she happy that you went back to your old self? Why is she acting this way with you? “You made so much progress! So much! Why are you going back!?”

“I– I don’t understand what you’re saying, I never changed–”

“You fucking did! You changed into who you actually are! You changed into someone that knows what they like, knows what they want! So what is all this shit!?” Robin motioned to all of the trash bags that contained your new stuff, and you felt your heart shrinking at each word that came out of her mouth. You shook your head at her as your tears started to burn your eyes.

“This is who I am. The things in the trash bags were just costumes Robin, they are something I am not!” Robin couldn’t believe what she was hearing. There must be a mistake, everything was fine on friday night, everything was incredible, you sounded so happy, you sounded and looked like you were glowing. She didn’t ask why you looked like that, but she feels like she might know why. She has a feeling inside of her that tells her that is right.

“This is not who you are! THIS is who you shaped yourself to be in order to feel safe!” You flinched at the word ‘shape’. You didn’t shape yourself, you didn’t put this skin to protect yourself, she was wrong. Everyone is wrong.

“Why can’t you accept me for who I am!? Why does everyone want to mold me into what they want!? Into what society wants!?” You weren’t looking at her, your eyes looking at the counter. Your voice was loud, taking Robin by surprise, but something in your words caught her attention.

Everyone?

“I accepted you, always! But the past months I felt like I actually got to know the real you! For the fucking first time!” At her words you rolled your eyes as a tear fell down your cheek.

“Right, because I started dressing myself with short shit? Because I started talking to guys? Is that the ‘normal’ for you?” You were in complete defensive mode, and Robin knew that, but she was taken aback by your response. You two never fought, ever, and this would be the first big fight you two would have, but Robin wasn’t going to lose it.

“No! Because you let yourself go! You started doing shit you actually wanted to do, and you even voiced it out! You got stuff that you wanted, and then you learnt to not ask for a second opinion on it! You liked stuff and you got it!” She motioned to all of the trash bags again, her voice breaking from how loud she was starting to get. “Everything that’s in these bags, are things YOU picked! No one else did for you!”

You flinched at her words. You did pick those clothes, you did pick the makeup yourself, you did pick many of the accessories yourself… But you picked them probably because you knew what everyone might like, driven by that, more than what you actually enjoyed wearing. You were driven by what he might like. What he might enjoy. What he always looked at every time he went to work.

“Robin, I don’t want to listen to you any longer, if you can’t accept–”

“Accept who you are, I always did! And I always will! This part of you–” She motioned to your body, your clothes, your hair. “I accept, AS WELL, as this side of you.” She then motioned to all of the trash bags in the living room.

“You are not fucking showing it.” You spat at your friend with venom in your voice. Robin was not going to let you walk out of all the progress you made, she wasn’t going to give up on you, she wasn’t going to let you give up on yourself.

“What the fuck happened? What made you revert into your past self?” Robin walked towards you, slowly, as if she were approaching a scared dog. You blinked at those words, turning to finally look at her.

“You mean, why did I stop pretending something I’m not? They’re two different things.” Robin saw it in your eyes, there was an emptiness, as if someone had punched a hole somewhere in your body and your blood was slowly draining out from your body. There is something behind your eyes, something behind your defensiveness, something behind your quivering lip that simply broke you.

Something happened this weekend. Something definitely happened to you.

“You need to tell me… what happened. Did someone hurt you? Did someone make you feel bad?” Robin didn’t know what to ask because you weren’t giving anything out. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary except for the bags, and she had to know what was going on in your head. You simply had to talk to her.

“Nothing happened. I just realized many things.” You were looking down at the floor again, and Robin’s hands slowly raised up to land on your shoulders. Your eyes were different now. They weren’t empty no more. They were hurt. Completely and utterly hurt. Your eyes were going back and forth as memories kept flashing in them, moments that you thought were real, moments that you thought were created with honesty, with the truth.

“Baby… What happened?” Robin said softly, her voice trembling slightly because you weren’t responding. You weren’t answering, and she was going insane about it. She wants to help you, she needs to help and she doesn’t know how.

“I need to be alone.” Robin shook her head, not wanting to do what you were asking, but you sent her a look that sent shivers down her spine. “You need to leave.”

“What–” She couldn’t finish her sentence, as the tears in your eyes were starting to pool on the water lines, and your breathing turned heavy. You pushed her arms away from you, and walked to the door, ripping it open.

“Get out!” You yelled at her. You actually yelled at her and Robin knew you were far gone. You weren’t going to listen, you weren’t going to talk, you weren’t going to let her in. She choked up on her own words, swallowing them as the anxiety of the situation was eating her at her stomach. Robin took a deep breath in and walked towards the door, giving you a final look.

“Please… talk to me when you’re ready.” You simply glared at her as tears rolled down your cheeks, and the moment she was out of the door, you slammed it shut, locking it as quickly as possible and your hands were pressed against it as the breathing turned almost painful.

Through the entire morning you had been holding back tears, holding back the emotions that were swirling in your mind. How can you tell Robin that Eddie tricked you? How do you even explain to her that you also feel like she knew? Steve was the one that told you about it, and her and Steve were almost best friends now. It’s impossible for her to not know about their second jobs.

You tried really hard to keep yourself together this morning, you really tried. You didn’t want to cry anymore because you felt like you were drained, only for more tears to appear out of nowhere. You could hear your phone buzzing in your pocket and you clenched your eyes tight. He hasn’t stopped calling, he hasn’t stopped messaging you, he hasn’t stopped asking if you were okay even when you told him you needed some time alone this weekend.

He wouldn’t leave you alone.

And that was confusing you, not understanding why he still wanted to talk to you when he already got what he wanted. He already tasted you, so what else does he want? The worst part is that he got everything now. He had you in every shape and form, in body and soul, and he doesn’t even know that. He just wanted the physical part and he doesn’t even know that he got more than just your body. And he will never know.

For the past two days you couldn’t even bring yourself to throw the bags out of the apartment. There was this string holding you back, it was invisible, yet you knew it was there. You wanted them out of your house because the pain of seeing them there is just too great, but you couldn’t even lift one bag up. You couldn’t even imagine putting a bag for donation because the pain becomes even bigger than having the bags in your house.

You slammed your back against the door as the tears kept coming down your cheeks, sobs ripping out at your chest. You slid down all the way and onto the floor, pulling your knees up to your chest, hugging them tightly as you pressed your face into them. You didn’t know what you wanted. You don’t even know if letting go is the right choice because you still hurt either way. But that’s life isn’t it? Letting go to move forward.

Your nights were sleepless, your pillows very much stained with all the tears that went through their fabric, yet you didn’t change the bedsheets. You didn’t, even if you should have. You didn’t let go of those sheets. You didn’t let go of that night. You didn’t let go of his scent. You didn’t let go of what he made you feel. You didn’t want to let go, yet you knew you had to.

Because it was all a lie.

Why is life this hard? Why is everything this way for you? Why can’t you just be happy with who you are? You’re a fucking hypocrite, telling Robin to accept you as you are when you can’t even do it yourself. You were torn between knowing who you are and who you wanted to be. You didn’t know anymore. You just didn’t. You were feeling as if something was ripped away from you, and you didn’t know if it was your heart, or that you that laughed when you tried to teach Billy how to braid hair, that you that danced around the living room with Steve twirling behind you, or that you that kissed a man because she really desired to do so.

A man that wrapped you around his finger, to then engulf you into his whole hand, crushing you bit by bit as he squeezed. You don’t want to keep going like this. You don’t want to give him any more trophies. You don’t want to remember anymore, you want your memories to vanish completely, yet you don’t want them to at the same time. You had to let go. You had to let him go.

Today you’ll throw the bags out.

Robin was breathing heavily as she paced around in her apartment.

She couldn’t talk to anyone about this because no one knew what you did the past two months. Robin didn’t even tell the other girls that she had a new friend called Steve. She didn’t even tell Vickie yet, and now Robin was losing her mind on who to talk to about this. She needed help.

She was trying to remember if you said anything on Friday, anything that would give her any kind of lead. She cursed at herself because she just remembers being too excited about her date with Vickie that everything else was being blocked out. Focus Robin, focus. She was at the mall when she called you, and she does remember you glowing, but what did you say?

Robin was slamming her hand on the counter as she tried to recall every second of that call. She went into a store, she remembers looking for a shirt, and then you had asked her how did she know she liked Vickie. Something about attraction. Something that made Robin look at you with knowing eyes. She straightened up, freezing.

Groceries. You didn’t go to the grocery store.

Robin’s hands immediately rushed to get her phone, not caring that it was ten in the morning and her friend might probably be asleep right now. She remembers Steve being home on friday because he was sick, very sick, so she has to know if you went to their house that night. She immediately started calling her friend, her phone raised up, waiting for him to answer.

No answer was coming and Robin Buckley was desperate. She needed to talk to Steve, she needed to know where you were that night. She cursed under her breath and grabbed her car keys from the counter. She doesn’t like driving much, but for you she would drive 9 hours straight if it were necessary. She was flying out of her complex in the matter of seconds, and in the matter of minutes, driving by many red lights, she got to Steve’s building.

She parked the car as best as she could in her hurry, knowing she might get a ticket for how badly it was sticking out but it was the least of her worries right now. You didn’t look fine, and she was scared. She ran to the intercom, pressing her finger in his apartment number repeatedly, not stopping at all until a very tired Billy Hargrove answered on the other side.

“I swear to god, whoever it is–”

“It’s Robin! Let me in!” She says in a hurry as her legs start making her bounce up and down in her anxiety.

“Robin, it is too early–”

“It’s an emergency!” She almost yells and Billy could sense the high pitch in her tone. Robin heard the buzzer going off and she rushed inside the building, and she sighed a thank you to whoever was above that the elevator was already in the lobby. She was tapping her foot repeatedly as she kept pressing the desired floor button, even if the elevator was already dinging that it was going up, as if it were going to make it go faster.

Once the metal doors opened, her legs immediately stomped towards the door, knocking onto it at a quick pace, her breathing heavy as she waited for anyone to open the door. At the small turn of doorknob, she was pushing herself in, making Billy stumble backwards, his eyes widening at the gesture as he sees the tornado Robin is leaving behind in her rush.

“Is Steve up!?” She turns to see Billy closing the door with worried eyes, a frown in his eyebrows as he keeps looking at Robin. Her answer came quickly when she heard the metal clinking of the stairs as someone headed down. She turned to see Steve in his blue robe and boxers, rubbing his eye with one hand as he held the phone with the other.

“Why do I have 10 missed calls from you Robin?” Steve says with a grunt as he finally reaches the bottom of the stairs. She immediately rushes towards him, grabbing him by the shoulders as his eyes widen at her.

“Something is fucking wrong, I don’t know what even happened but you need to tell–”

“Robin!?” Her head snapped almost as it turned to look at Eddie, running down the stairs, skipping a few even and almost falling in his hurry. Robin frowned at his yelling as she let go of Steve and Eddie rushed towards her. She could see bags underneath his eyes from lack of sleep, his hair was a mess and scrunched up into what looked like a bun and he simply seemed drained.

“Eddie, jesus fuck, you have to help me!” Robin lets go of Steve who was now very much awake and aware that something wasn’t right. He looked at Billy for answers but the blonde boy simply shrugged at him, still with the worried frown in his eyebrows.

“First, you fucking help me, she is not answering to any of my texts or my calls! She told me she needed time alone!” Robin winced at his words, shaking her head at him as she put her face in her hands in despair. You wouldn’t even talk to Eddie? How can he help you if you cannot even talk to him?

“She regressed.” The three boys were looking at Robin for more explanation, but Eddie’s heart was already at his throat. He was hoping that it didn’t mean what he thought she meant. He was hoping that this was not happening, not with all the progress you made. He was hoping that this was not happening, right before he got the chance to–

“What do you mean she regressed?” Billy dared to ask. He was looking at Eddie, not even at Robin because he was worried about his friend, his friend that was looking at Robin with fear in his eyes. His friend that hasn’t slept since friday. His friend that is going to have a heart attack if he doesn’t speak to you soon.

“She’s back to square one.” She puts her hands down as she looks up at Eddie with tears in her eyes. “I don’t know what happened, her new clothes are all in trash bags, as well as her make up I think? We went to get coffee an hour ago and she couldn’t even fucking look at the guy behind the counter.”

Eddie’s world crumbled.

His shoulders sagged as his breathing stopped, feeling as if his soul was coming out of his mouth. No… No, no, no. That couldn’t be right, everything was fine friday morning, everything was amazing friday morning, everything was perfect friday morning. It cannot be, it surely cannot be… Did he do something wrong? He talked to you later that day and you didn’t respond, not until midnight where you told him that you needed time alone to think about stuff.

That had already stabbed him once in the chest. Did you regret what happened? Did you regret him? Did he overstep? Did he read the signs… wrong? But now, knowing the reason why you didn’t want to talk to him was enough to actually kill him. How could it happen? How did you regress? Did something happen to you on that day? Did he say something in the morning that wasn’t to your liking? Was it because he had to leave? Did you think he was done because he left for work?

“Robin… Please tell me it is a joke.” Robin simply looked up at Eddie, dropping her hands from her face with her eyebrows meeting in the middle. She shook her head at him, and he huffed as he brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he tried to think rationally. He had to go see you. He had to meet with you. He had to talk to you. Fear was crippling all over his body at the thought that he was the reason for your regression.

“No… And I don’t know what happened…” Robin’s eyes lit up as she looked at Eddie who was still clenching his eyes together in thought. Fridays. “Did she come here on Friday?” Eddie opened his eyes with a confused frown in his eyebrows.

“I wasn’t here on friday, I was working.” He shortly replies and Robin blinked and tilted her head in confusion. Fridays were Eddie’s day off, she clearly remembers because you were always excited about Fridays coming up. You were always preparing your next Friday night with Eddie as soon as last Friday finished. So that leaves–

“Shit.”

Everyone’s eyes landed on the brown haired man that was standing in the living room with a lost look in his eyes as he stared at the floor, a frown in his eyebrows as his head slightly moved as if he were remembering images of a movie inside of his head, and then, his eyes clenched as if he were in pain, running a hand along his face in complete despair.

“Steve?” Robin was afraid of what was happening to her friend, not liking his movements at all, not as if he is remembering something that he is regretting at this very moment.

“Shit… Shit, shit, shit.” Steve started pacing back and forth, his fingers running up into his scalp as he held tightly onto his hair. Eddie was immediately on his ass, stepping closer to his friend as his ears started tingling with anticipation, with even more fear than before, knowing something definitely happened now, and it had nothing to do with what happened between the two of you.

“What is going on? Steve?” Billy’s voice was strong, but it was mixed with nervousness now because Steve looked anything… but innocent.

“Fuck, she told me to not tell you she came over, I was fucked up in medication and–” Steve was breathing heavily as his memory started to become clearer each second it passed and he cursed at himself at each word he remembered.

“Steve, what the fuck did you say to her?” Eddie sounded nervous, afraid, and Robin caught on that, looking at him with a confused frown in her eyebrows. Steve let a heavy sigh out of his lips as he looked at Eddie with pity written all over his face, as well as regret.

“I’m so sorry Eddie, I– Fuck, it was before you told us about it, and… shit, she couldn’t even look me in the eye and I didn’t fucking notice–” Eddie’s mind was racing. You came here on friday, the day you always knew it was his day off, and he wasn’t here, and Steve–

“Please tell me you didn’t.” Eddie almost whispers, but not quite, it was more of a threatening tone towards his friend, and Steve could only look at Eddie with regret flashing into his eyes.

“I told her… I told her that you were at your second job.”

Everyone froze. Everyone except Robin, who was confused, looked back and forth between the three men. Second job? What did he mean? Why are the three of them completely frozen? Why is Eddie turning whiter at each second that passes? Why is Steve looking so guilty?

“Second… job?” Robin dared to ask and Steve winced, clenching his eyes shut as he gulped and looked down at the floor.

“I didn’t want you to judge me… So I never told you about it…” Steve licked his lips as he looked up at Robin this time, not daring to look at Eddie, not right now, not this second. “We sometimes… fuck our clients… sometimes for money, sometimes–”

Everything was interrupted when Eddie let out a big scoff, almost as if what he just heard was unbelievable. Steve told you that, Steve fucking told you that right after Eddie slept with you. Nobody knows about you two, and if they do, it wasn’t thanks to his mouth. He didn’t talk about you in that way with anyone, and he now sees how fucking stupid it was to do that.

If he had told his friends about what was going on with you sooner, they’d understand and encourage it. If he had told his friend about what happened between you two, they would know what they could say and what they couldn’t. If he had told his friends about his decision sooner, rather than yesterday night, Steve wouldn’t have opened his mouth the way he did with you on Friday.

But he couldn’t blame his friend. Yet, the anger was still deep in his chest as he shook his head at Steve, who only gulped as he looked at Eddie.

“Eddie, I didn’t know… I didn’t even know you didn’t tell her–” But Eddie couldn’t hear anything else any longer. His only thought was you, he needed to get to you, he needed to see you, to talk to you, to clear things up, to tell you what he feels for you, to make you understand him, hoping you would.

“Steve, if I don’t fix things up with her, I am shaving your fucking head.” Eddie was already marching up towards the door after grabbing the keys from the keyholder next to the door. He could hear Steve sighing behind him and Robin’s mind puzzle was slowly putting itself together, and as it did, she rushed towards Eddie to stop him, grabbing onto his arm, making him look at her with a frown to his face, only to be met with rage behind Robin’s eyes.

“If what Steve said is right, then you are the fucking reason for her regression!” Robin was enraged. She knew that you felt something for Eddie, and she also knew about you going out with him on thursday. She also knew you two had kissed, because of course Steve was not going to not tell her about how he kissed you himself and that you didn’t even flinch, telling her how amazed he was with your progress. She knew, and she knew now that Eddie had fucked up.

“Robin– It’s not what you think–” Billy tried to stop Robin but she wasn’t having it, not letting go of Eddie’s arm at all.

“He is just going to keep hurting her, so don’t you dare fucking go Munson.” Eddie’s eyes were still locked into Robin’s as his face scrunched up, guilt and anger mixing together as he looked down at her.

“I never meant to hurt her. Not even once. You’re not the only one that cares about her, not anymore Buckley.” He replied back in the same manner that she was talking to him. They were both glaring at one another, invisible daggers being thrown and Robin was still not letting go of Eddie’s arm.

“Robin…” Steve slowly approached her and put a hand over her shoulder, making her look at him with anger in her eyes. “Let him go. Let him talk to her please…” And everyone noticed that guilt that was pooling in Steve’s mouth, and everyone could see it in the pained frown that took place in his eyebrows. Robin’s eyes softened as she looked at her friend, and then turned back to Eddie. Eddie’s eyes were different now, almost begging her for something, and Robin slowly let go of his arm.

“She won’t answer you.” Eddie licked his lips as he looked at the door, thinking of a way to talk to you, to get you to open the door for him. His eyes lit up, looking back at Robin.

“But she will answer you.”

You finally decided to take a shower, after these past few days you did not want to leave your bed at all. You were rubbing the towel on your wet hair as you walked to your drawers to throw on your grey leggings, a plain white shirt and a long oversized white hoodie over you. You looked at yourself in the mirror as you started combing your hair with your fingers and god… Your eyes.

They were puffy, too puffy, and the bags under them were not helping the situation. You just looked like a monster, a very tired monster. You dragged your feet towards your dirty laundry basket, throwing the towel in there. Your eyes then scanned over the sheets on your bed, making you wince almost in pain. You have to. You have to do it.

So first, you took the covers off your pillows, then your sheets, then the fitted ones, throwing them into the basket as well. Okay, that’s done. You walked over to your closet and tiptoed to reach up into the tallest shelf to retrieve new sheets. Your heart was tugging at you as you dressed your bed in its new soft fabric, the smell of softener just filling the air and the sweet cologne was already gone. You wanted to have just one more smell as you put the comforter over your bed, looking at the laundry basket. You shook your head at how creepy that was.

You gulped loudly as you walked out of your room, seeing all the trash bags still resting against the wall, waiting for you to take them out. You took a deep breath in as you pressed a hand against your forehead, your belly turning at every moment it could, the memories just coming back, your brain reminding you of how naive you were, the nagging feeling of what could have been, and the grief of losing a dear friend.

How were you going to move on from this? Is there a possible way to mend your heart back? To return to your old self? Because even that person is broken. Even the person that you were before all of this is completely shattered, and it’s like you don’t know yourself any longer. Who are you? What do you like? What do you look for? What are you yearning for? What is going to happen to you?

You felt lost. Completely, and utterly lost.

The ringing of your phone brought you back to reality, The Shire filled the room with its calming tone, not at all matching with the storm that you had inside yourself. You walked towards the coffee table to grab onto it, seeing Robin calling. Should you answer? Should you talk to her? You don’t even know what you could possibly talk to her about, knowing she was just going to keep pestering you about everything.

It stops ringing and you sigh, almost in relief, only for it to start ringing again. Now worry was filling your chest because maybe something happened. She was probably hurt or something, so now you didn’t doubt when you pressed the button to answer her call, a heavy breathing Robin already on the other side.

“Robs–”

“I can’t believe I already got into my first fight with her!” You hear your friend on the other side, her breathing invading your ears, and you straighten up at the sound of her distress.

“What? Are you okay Robs?” You asked her, and you knew that she wasn’t okay at all, not by the sound of her breathing against the phone.

“No, no, I’m not… Please tell me you’re home…” Her voice softened and you blinked and looked at the door, rushing towards it to unlock it.

“Yeah, I unlocked the door, just come on up!” You tell her and you can hear a soft thank you from her before she hangs up. You started at your phone as you processed the events in your head. Robin got together with Vickie and something already happened between the two? You shook your head and you walked towards your room to look for your scented candles.

Everytime something happened to one of your friends, you always prepared the place with scented candles, incense, anything that might calm them. You didn’t have ice cream this time though. Shit. Maybe you can go later on with her to get some. It could also be that Robin was exaggerating because she has liked Vickie for a long time, so maybe the most minuscule of things might have happened with them two, and she was just elevating it all to a hundred.

You walked out of your room, your back towards the door as you placed the candles on the coffee table. You chose rosemary and lavender, to have some fresh and cleansing energy in the room. The door opened and closed, and you sighed, straightening up and turning around to greet your friend. Only for your air to be knocked out of your lungs, as if a punch was thrown right into your chest.

Why is he here?

Your heart was beating into your ears as your whole body froze as you stared at him. He was breathing heavily, as if he ran the flight of stairs all the way to your floor. His hair was completely messy even if it were in a bun, his jacket was on his hand, his arms on his sides, the shadow of his beard all over his jaw, over the top of his lip as well. He was just staring back at you with a frown in his face, but his eyes caught the bags on his peripheral vision, and that’s when you snapped out of the trance, giving your back to him.

You clenched your chest tightly as you felt nausea in your stomach, your body slightly trembling at how close he was, and the room was shrinking on you. What is going on? Robin was the one coming up, so why is Eddie here? Why? Did Robin lie to you? Why would she do this to you? Why would she deceive you like this? After what you told her just a few hours ago, how could she do this to you?

This is not right. This is not okay. Your breathing was heavy as dizziness filled your head. So many emotions were running through your body, sadness, nervousness, anger, happiness, excitement, and you don’t know which one to focus on. Your guts were turning at each second, each breath you heard from him as the world stood still for the both of you.

You asked for time, you asked him to leave you alone, and here he is in the flesh, barging into your home. Barging into the home of a friend he lied to. Barging into the home of someone he deceived and shaped to his own liking. Barging into the home of someone he said he cared about and slept with, only to cleanse his body afterwards. You didn’t want the reminder of it, you didn’t want him to make excuses, you didn’t want any of that.

You just wanted him out of your house.

“What the fuck?” He called out your name, and you didn’t turn around, not when you heard his voice since Friday happened. Was it possible to miss someone’s voice? How could it happen? Why is it happening? Why does it give you a warm feeling despite the pain he made you go through? Why does he have this much effect on you? You know what he did, you know what his plan was, so why does his mere voice make you happy?

You heard his footsteps going closer to the bags, and your panic settled in. He is going to touch that stuff, the stuff he said looked good on you. The stuff you bought that might catch his attention. The stuff that he recommended to you, and you went and bought it for yourself. Stuff that he didn’t even know you bought. Stuff that you decided that looked good on you at that time and simply got it, but you know that those tastes were settled in your brain by him.

“G-Get out.” You muster to actually get your voice out of your lips, and you heard Eddie’s steps stopping. He was looking at the back of your head, a storm settling inside of him on hearing those words from you, how shaky you sound, how your body slightly trembles. But he wasn’t going to follow your orders.

“I am not leaving until you listen to me.” He states and your ears were ringing. He never went against your wishes, and that was making the anger elevate a little bit more. He was always patient with you, following your rhythm and now he is denying your request.

“I-I don’t want to talk to you!” You clenched your eyes as your shoulders raised up a bit to brace yourself for anything that he might say. His eyes hardened on your form, and his right eye twitched as he looked at the bags again.

“What are these bags?” He asks you, but he knows the answer. He just wants to know how much damage was caused, and from what he could see, quite a lot. Everything was in the bags, from your makeup to your jackets. He clenched his own eyes as a sting of pain shot through his heart, the purple dress peeking out from one of the bags.

“I said get out!” You screech again and Eddie’s patience finally breaks. He was always careful with you, always listened to you, and now you don’t want to listen to him. He understands your pain, he understands what your mind went through this past weekend, but he will not take it today. He will not let you run away, drive him out of your house, even if you call the police on him.

“I told you I am not leaving until you fucking listen to me!” Your eyes widened as your body froze up. This was the first time Eddie had cussed at you. This was the first time that Eddie raised his voice towards you. You didn’t like it, you really didn’t like it. Why is he mad? Why is he the one that’s angry? After what he did?

“I don’t want to listen to you!” You yell back, annoyance now mixing with your anger, and your nerves were slipping out of your fingertips as the walls just closed more on you. Eddie slammed his jacket onto the counter, patience gone by now, and it made you flinch, jump on your spot.

“You will listen to me, because I am not leaving at all until you do.” Eddie’s feelings were everywhere. He was scared and saddened by your reaction, from what Steve said to you, for how you acted towards it, and he was sad your mind was your worst enemy. But he was also angry by the fact that you wouldn’t even listen to him. That you don’t even give him a chance, letting your mind cloud every single patch of sun there might be, that there once was.

It was not of Eddie to be this persistent. You wanted to turn around and look at him, but you knew that it was a bad idea. A very bad idea to look into the eyes of a man that looked at every part of your body, the eyes of a man that looked into yours, telling you that he had wanted you for a long time. The eyes of a man that you thought shared the same feelings as you did, only for everything to be an act, to be a lie, to be a complete trick that you stupidly fell for.

“I said I don’t want–”

“Did everything that happened between us mean nothing to you?” You straightened up, wondering if you heard him right. What? “Seriously, I thought you trusted me enough to come talk to me about this, not let your mind race like it did!” What the hell… What the actual–

“I said get out!” You yelled again, and your heart was a turmoil of emotions right now, feeling the nausea just building and building, your head now lightweight with dizziness as it spiraled.

“Jesus fuck.” Eddie took a deep breath in. He needed to calm himself down because even if he was hurt too, your pain was greater than his and he has to understand that. He understands that it must have not been easy for you, hearing that right after you two slept together, and Eddie honestly can’t blame anyone but himself for it. “That night–”

“NO!” Your hands immediately shot to your ears, covering them, your eyes clenching tightly in an attempt to block him out, not wanting to hear it from his mouth. Hearing it from Steve was more than enough and you do not want to relive that experience. Eddie knew you weren’t going to listen to him willingly, but there’s no chance that he is walking out of your apartment without talking. He took more steps towards you, standing behind you for you to listen to him despite your ears being covered.

“I know what Steve said to you.” He begins as his heart wants to come out of his throat, looking up at the ceiling. “I was at my second job.”

Your ears buzzed at the confession, your eyes now burning with incoming tears as your heart broke even more if it were possible. Why is he doing this to you? Why is he clarifying what you already knew? Is he just rubbing the salt on the wound for pleasure? Does he think that everything is going to be better just because he explains it all himself when he should have done it when he met you?

“I don’t want to hear–”

“I did hide it from you… As I hid it from everyone else, even Steve.” Your eyebrows frowned at that, his words not making any sense at all. Steve was the one that told you about his second job, Steve was the one that told you he was with a client. What does he mean? Why is he confusing you this way? You shook your head in between your hands, not wanting to hear him any longer.

“Please, stop–”

“Before I met you, I did, in fact, sleep with clients for the money… It was a good income, an extra one…” He took a deep breath in as he looked at the back of your head again, seeing your shoulders shake slightly, and all he wanted was to hold you close to him, caress you, soothe you and calm you down. “But after meeting you… I started declining calls, offers…”

A tear rolled down your cheek as you heard him talk. Is he telling you the truth? Does this mean that he wasn’t with a client on Friday night? Does this mean that he never got together with a client right after meeting with you? Your heart was painfully beating inside your chest now, as confusion was making your body heat start to increase, blood just pumping all the way to your fingertips and your head.

“I don’t get it…” You softly say to him. He gulped heavily as he licked his lips, looking down at the floor to try to make his nerves calm down, even if a little bit.

“I was at work on Friday.” What? That wasn’t right, Eddie’s friday nights were his day off. Was he lying to you again? Was this another trick?

“You don’t work on Fridays.” You reply to him, almost bitterly and you hear him sigh behind you.

“I do now, because I am not on stage any longer.” That made your hands drop from your ears, shock just making you freeze in your place as you took in his words, trying to make them make sense in your brain. On stage? He works Fridays now?

“Wh-What do you mean?” Eddie’s breathing grew heavy as he pushed the gulp of nerves that was trapped in his throat. He was hoping that his words were getting through you because this is the scariest thing he has ever done. The feelings that are deep inside of him frightened him everyday.

“For the past month, I’ve been training for another job at the club. Bartending.”

Your eyes were fixed forward, looking at the window, feeling his presence right behind you. Nothing was making sense. Nothing at all. How could he hide that fact? Why didn’t he talk to Steve or Billy about it? How did they not notice this? How was it all possible? The need to turn around to face him was slowly increasing, wanting to see his features, read him, know if he was being honest.

“How– Why didn’t you tell me?” That was the first question that left your mouth, not caring about the rest. Why didn’t he tell you this? He still hid something from you, even if it isn’t as painful, he still didn’t tell you about it, and there must be a reason for it. A reason that you might not like and that’s why he didn’t say anything.

But you were wrong. You were so wrong. Eddie’s hands trembled as he took the ponytail off his hair, letting it down so he could run his fingers through it in complete nervousness. His breathing was deep, trying really hard to control it but it was impossible, because here is where he is going to take the leap.

This is where everything between the two of you actually changes.

“Because… I was waiting for it to be official… for you.”

What?

What did he just say?

Did you hear him right?

You stood still, eyes wide, blood completely gone from your body and you don’t even know how it’s even functioning. You don’t feel your hands, your feet, your heart, nothing. You were frozen, from head to toe. You knew that your brain was yelling something, you knew there was a buzzing in your ears, a very distant one as you slowly started to process his words, and when you did, your body started to turn by its own accord. You weren’t controlling it. It was as if you were magnetized to him.

Your eyes finally met his, and you saw him. His brows were slightly furrowed, nervousness all over his features, his brown eyes searching for yours, desperately. His face was flushed, cheeks in a tint of red that you were sure was spreading to his ears. You felt your heart working again, starting at a slow pace, only to increase in a matter of seconds, and you felt the fingertips of your hands start to tremble once again.

“W-What?” It’s all you could say. It’s all you could ask. You don’t know what is going on any longer, and Eddie knew that you were confused. Too confused, but his heart now hurts from seeing the red puffy eyes that had bags underneath them, almost mimicking his, and knowing that he was the cause of it, was cutting him like a knife.

“I really wasn’t planning on doing it like this… The call I received that morning– It was Joyce. I forgot I had the bartending afternoon shift.” The gears in your brain were going and going, processing every word, every eye movement, every breath that was coming out of his mouth, and every piece of information that he was giving you. Joyce… His boss. His boss was the one calling him that morning. It wasn’t a client. It wasn’t someone else.

“I–” You were speechless, you really didn’t know what to say, you have no idea how to even digest this information. Eddie sighed at your lost eyes, but he had to be honest with you, just put his heart on the plate for you, pushing the fear and nervousness away because the only thing that mattered to him right now, was you.

“I didn’t tell Steve, nor Billy. I lied to them saying… I was going to see clients but I was going back to the club to train… Shit.” He looked down from you as he stepped back to start pacing, slowly, because he was feeling as if his heart was just beating all over his body. “That’s why Steve said what he said on Friday.”

This… is this real? He is actually saying this to you? You are not making it up? How is this happening? You didn’t notice that a tear was rolling down your cheek as your gear suddenly turned, stopping from going backwards, and they started going forward again, almost at a rapid pace, making you slightly dizzy at the amount of information that it was processing in a single moment.

“I– I don’t understand…” Eddie sighed as he looked at you, his shoulders sagging slightly as his guts turned and turned, knowing he had to explain himself even further, say words that he was afraid of saying for a long time, but it would explain everything he did. Everything he did in order to be suitable.

“Sweetheart, I–... I didn’t do it just because I didn’t have the extra income of…” He shook his head, deciding to not mention that part of him any longer. “I wanted to have a chance, and I knew that I would do anything for it.”

“A- A chance? For what?” Your heart was almost exploding, not only because of your nerves, but because there was something in his eyes that was making you feel alive again, making you feel like yourself, making you tremble with all of those feelings you have for him, those feelings that have yet to be said, but for some reason… His eyes are something that makes you hopeful, and this is what you were anticipating.

“Angel, I… I fell for you, in ways you cannot even imagine.”

Time froze.

The world stopped turning.

The moon stopped gravitating around it as well.

The entire galaxy, including its stars, including its milky ways, including the expanse of nothingness, everything just simply stopped.

Those words out of his mouth, those simple yet strong words were everything you anticipated. Everything you had been waiting for. That feeling of wanting more, and more, and more, it wasn’t just physical, it was because you wanted him, in every form, in soul, in any way he had to offer. This was the ‘more’ that was chanting in your head everyday and at every minute that you looked at him.

Your hearts could be heard across the room, beating rapidly at the same time, as the two of you simply stood there, looking at one another, breathing heavily with your chests going up and down. Eddie had a nervous frown on his face, while you were just frozen in place. Patience returned to him, and he waited. He waited for you to answer, for you to say something, anything at all. And even in your own bliss that was beginning to blossom, eyes burning from the incoming tears from the emotions you cannot handle any longer, there was still an insecure side of you. A part that didn’t let go quite yet.

“You– for me? Or–” Your eyes traveled towards the bags, and he followed your gaze, and he now understood. He now got the idea of why you put everything away, another sting of pain shooting into his heart that navigated all the way to his feet. He turned to face you again, his eyes looking into yours and you had to know. You had to know his thoughts.

“I found you beautiful back when you first sat down in front of me at the coffee shop… The day we went to the bar together and you started rambling about Harry Potter just…–” A small laugh left his lips at the realization of how deep his feelings were for you. He knew they were big, but he is realizing it all just now that they’re just huge, not quite love, but still surprising from it happening so fast. “When I saw you in your purple dress, I just, I didn’t think you could get more beautiful but– Fuck, you proved me wrong sweetheart.”

Your eyes were burning from the intensity of his words, and they were simply attaching themselves in every inch of your body, soaking them into your flesh, into your brain. You didn’t think that he found you attractive since before actually becoming friends, since before you started buying other clothes, before you started wearing make-up, heels, making your hair look nicer.

“R-Really?” You sounded so small, so fragile, but he was going to make sure to get his feelings across with you, he was going to make sure that you knew that you were indeed beautiful, confident, and that you are your own person despite what your head might think.

“Really… Even when I came here to watch movies with you and Robin, and you were with your Pikachu sweatpants and a plain shirt, I thought you looked so cute… In the sense of– I wanted to kiss you so bad that night Angel. So fucking bad.” You blinked at his words, remembering that night. It was still on your early outings, getting to know each other, and Robin was always present at those. You were on your period and all you wanted to do was wear comfortable clothes.

“B-But that was before we…” And he nodded, knowing what you were meaning, a red tint covering his cheeks as he looked at the floor.

“Before we even kissed. I know… And when we did, you seriously have no idea how much I had to hold myself back with you. I curse the moment that Billy and Steve walked through that door and interrupted us.” He gulped loudly and your fingertips were burning, almost itching with the need to grab onto him, of pulling him into you, your heart just pumping blood loudly into your ears.

“But when… When Steve–” More words were coming out of your mouth now, as the desperation of your excitement was getting the best of you. Your happiness was slowly returning to you, as euphoria burst from your ears, from your pores, from every single cell your body possibly has.

“Don’t get me started on that. I never wanted to rip a friend’s head before, but my fingertips almost went through the cushion I was sitting on from how bad I was clenching my fist… And then the fucking date–” He rapidly says as a hint of annoyance was found in his voice. He was jealous. He was jealous that Steve had kissed you, and you didn’t notice. You didn’t see it.

“Why– Why didn’t you say anything?” You took a step forward to him, very small, but he noticed, and his heart could not contain its joy as it began jumping inside his chest cavity.

“I didn’t want to scare you off. I wanted to make sure that… You knew what you wanted, that you had a choice that you could make yourself…” His eyes were looking into your once lost ones. They were focusing even more, at each word his mouth let out. Your breathing was almost trembling as you kept looking at him.

“And when… When did you…” Your face was flushing all over, heat invading every single part of your body as you looked down from his face. A soft smile appeared on his cheeks as he took one small step towards you.

“When you called me beautiful.” Your eyes widened as you locked them with his, surprised by his words. Your stomach turns with the information, trying to process it fully and let it sink that this man, this amazing man, actually feels something for you, and that it’s in the same magnitude as your feelings.

“T-That long?” Eddie’s eyes were intense as he looked at you, another step being taken as your face started to morph into that of a happy surprise, a happy excitement, and you were just glowing and Eddie knew. Eddie knew you felt the same way now, making him think that this must be a dream. This cannot be real. The girl he’s been wanting for the past two months wants him back, in the same way he wants her.

“Angel, do you have any idea how hard it is to find someone like you?” You were now gazing at him, completely entranced by his face, his voice, his scent, everything simply invading all of your senses, and you were loving it. You were adoring it. You were bathing in it. And Eddie, even if confident because he was looking at your body movement, he had to know. He had to make sure that this was real, that this was happening to him. “What about you?”

And that is the question that made you freeze again. This was another turning point, and the path that was ahead of the both of you now looked foggy, not knowing where it was headed, not knowing if it would be worth the dive or not, not knowing what the two of you might be like later on, what you two will be doing, or what you two will encounter.

But that was the adrenaline of it all, because despite all that fear, all that insecurity, all that uncertainty, you still wanted more. You wanted more, with him. You wanted the normal, you wanted the eccentric, you wanted the happiness, you wanted the sadness, you also wanted the possible little fights you two might have, and you wanted those nights where you would be tangled into one another’s arms. It’s always more, and it will never be enough. Not with him.

“I– I want you.”

Eddie’s breathing almost stopped at your words. He wanted to sigh out of happiness, out of relief, out of excitement. His ears were not deceiving him as well as your eyes that were looking at him with intensity like never before. This was the most certain you looked. This is something you were confident on, and you were showing it. You were confident that you wanted him.

“Like…?” He asked one more time, and this was the first time that you saw Eddie lose his confidence. This was the first time that the roles were reversed. This is how you looked before meeting him, and you now realize how desperate you are becoming to not let him think that way. You were desperate to show him what your feelings were. You didn’t want him to doubt you or himself. So you took a step forward, and now, you were just inches apart, and you looked up at him, stained cheeks and red eyes, as a soft smile crossed your lips.

“Like I want to make chocolate chip pancakes for you every morning.”

Eddie’s face immediately lit up at your words, a big dimpled smile spreading on his lips, red cheeks that beamed down at you, as his hair cascaded all around his shoulders, just like that first night you met him. His face mirrored yours, and the only difference was the tears that were rolling down your face, and these tears were different from the ones you wasted these two days. Those were tears of someone that didn’t trust in herself, tears of someone that didn’t have confidence even in her own confidence.

But now, your tears are those of a woman who knows what she wants. A woman that is confident that the man before him feels the same as she does. A woman that is willing to fight for her desires and her dreams. Tears of pure happiness as this new feeling envelops the two of you and just swallows you in for god knows how much time. Hopefully, a long, long time.

His hands raised up to hold onto your face, wiping your tears away with his thumbs as they softly caressed your cheeks. Your breathing heavy as his was, your hands traveling to his waist to grip onto his shirt tightly as you inched forward to him and he didn’t even hesitate when he leaned down, not wanting to waste another second apart from you, and he pressed his lips against yours.

Sparks flew all around you, stars rained down on you as the world started spinning again, slowly, time started ticking, the galaxy was once again moving and the moon was rotating around earth. This time, everything was moving with him, every step the two of you took was going to be a journey, together or by your own.

Your lips moved with his as the kiss grew deep, wanton, but not desperate, not rough, not lustful, at least not yet. You were both tasting each other, tasting one another’s feelings, tasting what you were both missing for the past two days, even for the past month because you didn’t know how to describe your feelings, and he for not talking at all. He pulled away, but didn’t leave the space of your lips as he talked.

“You–” A deep peck. “Have–” Another one and this time it caused you to giggle in your throat. “No idea–” A series of soft pecks, moving his head from one side to the other, making you smile against his lips. “How long I waited for this.” You were both breathing heavy as he stayed hovering over your lips, and you gulped, looking up into his eyes.

“I– I would have never made you… Quit– You didn’t have to do that…” You say to him, and he knew it was the truth. Even with your feelings, all this time, you never questioned him about his job, you never said anything about it, and even if you two got together, you probably would have never told him to quit.

“I know… I know you wouldn’t have… But that doesn’t mean that it wouldn’t bother you, and honestly, the last thing I want is to hurt you, in any way, and that includes you feeling insecure.” Your eyes teared up at his words, because he was right. You would have felt that way, you would have felt insecure but not because he would cheat, but because you knew the women there were more voluptuous, more feminine, more pretty, richer…

“But, won’t Billy and Steve miss you?” Eddie smiles at you as a soft chuckle vibrates in his throat, making you gulp from how beautiful he is sounding right now to you.

“I will be bartending near them… I still have to do some stripping over the bar, but I cannot be touched. All the money goes into the tip jar… And let me tell you, I will make more than when I stripped on stage.” You stare up at him, not believing that this man had changed his job for you, to be suitable for you, to have the chance of giving you a peaceful mindset when being with him.

“So…” Your face flushed as you tried to speak, ask him that important question that, once again, will change it all. He grinned down at you, making your heart skip a beat.

“Hmm… You’re mine and I’m yours… How does that sound?” Your heart almost exploded at those words, a smile spreading on your face as you jumped from your feet, and his eyes widened but a laugh escaped his lips as your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. His arms wrapped around your frame as he tilted his head back to look at your face.

“It sounds like we can have Mario Kart nights while eating anchovy pizza.” He groaned with delight, rolling his head all around as he heard those words out of your mouth, making you laugh at his antics.

“Fuck yes… and then we can have desert…” He smirks as he leans his face towards your neck, planting a soft kiss on your skin as you gasp slightly at the touch. You bit your lip as you closed your eyes, diving into the feeling of him being close to you again. His warmth mixing with yours, both of your scents lingering in the air, and this is everything you could have wanted.

And possibly more.

“Robin!” You suddenly screeched, making Eddie’s eyes widen and pull away from you, looking all around for the girl mentioned.

“What’s wrong with Robin?”

“She said she got into a fight with Vickie! I should call her to–” Eddie couldn’t help but laugh, throwing his head back, and you tilted your head completely confused as you looked at him. “What’s so funny?”

“Angel…” He looked at you, trying to hold in his laughter as he raised an eyebrow at you. Your gears worked, and worked, and it clicked. Your eyes widened as your face turned into that of an offended one and you slapped Eddie’s shoulder, making him wince through his laughter.

“You tricked me!” He was about to reply to you, but then you both heard a shuffling at the door, and some mumbling. Suddenly the handle moved down, and the door opened, only for Robin and Steve to tumble down to the floor after Billy had opened the door from the side. Both you and Eddie stared at the situation as Robin rubbed her hip as she stood up and Steve rubbed his chest, getting on his own two feet.

“Jesus fuck, that hurt Hargrove!” Robin shrieks and Billy simply rolled his eyes and nodded towards you and Eddie, where you were still hugging him tightly with your whole body while he held you up. Robin and Steve turn to look at the both of you, and their faces blush a deep red. You immediately jump off Eddie, and he looks at you to see your face, waiting for the embarrassment to appear, but the only thing he sees is an angry frown, making him tilt his head in confusion.

“So, uh, you guys cleared things up?” Steve says with a nervous smile as he gulps while looking at you.

“Steve!” You took steps forward towards the brown haired guy and he yelled slightly, running towards your kitchen as you tried to grab him. Eddie snorted to then laugh at the scenario of Steve using Billy to shield himself from you, as the blonde man groaned in annoyance.

“First I gotta babysit you two eavesdropping and now I’m a fucking shield!?” You huffed in exasperation as you glared at Steve while he peered at you from over Billy’s shoulder. Your sight moved towards Robin who had a small smile on her face. You immediately rushed towards her, arms wrapping around her as she reciprocated the hug, holding you close.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again.” Robin softly says into you and you could only nod. You were so blind by your feelings for Eddie that you forgot your own. You forgot who you were, who you’ve become, and how much you loved that person that you turned into. How much you enjoy her, how much excitement she brought to your life.

“Can everyone leave so I can spend time with my girlfriend?” Eddie says with a groan as he walks over to you and Robin, and the blonde girl rolls her eyes as she lets go of you. Your body heated up at his words. Girlfriend. You were his, and he is yours. Your boyfriend. You have a boyfriend you actually have feelings for. A boyfriend you are attracted to. A boyfriend that no matter how many times you see him in the week, in the day, you wouldn’t get tired of, ever.

“Don’t you hoard her. She was mine first.” Eddie rolls his eyes at Robin, and wraps an arm around your shoulders to pull you back into his embrace, a smile appearing on your lips as your chest hits his. He smiles down at you and Robin couldn’t help her own lips as they turned upwards as she looked at you. “Also, remember that we have to tell the girls now about… this.” She motioned at all the boys and you winced at that.

“Right…” You say to her, knowing that is going to be another big step, and you don’t know how your other friends will react, but hopefully they aren’t too angry with you. You could only hope.

“So, all forgiven?” Eddie and you slowly turned your heads to glare at the brown haired boy and Steve immediately grabbed Billy and Robin’s hands and started dragging them to the door as he gulped in fear. “We’ll leave!”

“Hey– But I wanted to–” Billy starts and Steve shushes him as he pushes them both out of the door, but before he could close it, Billy yelled. “I knew it, Munson! All along!” And the door closed, leaving you two alone in the apartment once again. You blinked at those words and slowly turned to look at Eddie who was blushing a deep red. He turned to you with a wince on his face.

“Billy is very perceptive.” For the ease of your mind, he didn’t tell you that Billy had actually heard you both that night. You hummed at that, still confused, but you were alone with him again, and his wince turned into a soft smile, leaning down to nuzzle his nose with yours. “You know what I feel like?”

“What?” You ask him with a small smile on your face, he leans to hover his lips against yours.

“Beating you at Mario Kart.” Your eyes open like plates as you pull away from him, and give him a squint. He chuckles at your reaction and you bite the inside of your cheek as a smirk appears on your lips this time.

“If I win again, you will watch the entire saga of Harry Potter with me, chronologically.” He throws his head back in laughter but still nods. He was planning on doing that with you anyway, the one thing you both have right now, is time. A lot of it.

“And if I win?” He asks in a sultry tone and your knees tremble at his voice, your heart in your throat as you tiptoe to plant a small peck on his lips.

“You won’t.” And your boyfriend’s eyes lit up with a new fire, with something that was burning you inside out.

“It’s on Angel.”

Do I wanna know? If this feeling flows both ways.

The End.

A/N: I am sobbing right now. It's the end of it all, but I won't let go of these two that easily. I thank everyone who interacted with the story, and recommended it, and was simply supportive of it. It was going to be a three part thing, and now we're at 8 and at the end!

I hope to keep giving you guys this same excitement with my other stories!

I repeat, always reblog your artists! That's the only way that engagement works on tumblr!

Taglist: @katethetank @mynameismothra @emxxblog @steph-speaks @fantasticmacaroni @aysheashea @sweet-villain @eddiemunsonthoughts @emilyslutface @bookshelf-dust @justheretostalk @vintagehellfire @trixyvixx @steeldaisies @bitchyseawitch @seventhlevelofhell @leelei1980 @kbakery @corroded-hellfire @poofyloofyy @nightonblogmountain @gothvamp1973 @hideoutside @mrsjellymunson @honey-eyed-munson @sarcastically-defensive17 @narutofan249277 @siriuslysmoking @hereforshmut @venuslayla23-blog @ghost-proofbaby

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storiesofsvu · 3 months

Text

Decadent Desire Ch 8

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol, smut, rougher sex (ish), minor breeding kink. ngl it almost feels like a bit of a filler chapter, but it reunites what bits i had combined previously to make full chapters. Also sometimes filler is needed, I needed something else in there to break things up and that's why i kept staring at the word doc having NO clue what i wanted to do. SO, hopefully it doesn't take two weeks til the next update. lol. thank you for reading, extra bonus love to everyone who comments, sends asks and reblogs! you're the best!

After a lavish breakfast of stuffed French toast, all the delicious sides you could ask for and the best tasting coffee you’d had in ages you figured you should take advantage of the fancy shower once more. You took your time, scrubbing your skin with exfoliant before washing with a rose scented body wash and combing through your hair with a leave in conditioner. Wrapping yourself in one of the fuzzy robes you added in some hair treatment, doing your best job of braiding your still damp locks to air dry while sipping on a second cup of coffee. Finally it was check out time so you collected your things and headed downstairs, the Sunday morning air was the perfect balance of crisp while warm, the breeze floating through the streets spreading the sense of summer on the way.

You weren’t totally surprised when you found a bouquet of flowers on your front step, a note from Emily in the florists font scrawled across the front. Scooping it up you took it inside, kicking off your shoes and dropping your purse to the kitchen island before unwrapping the flowers. Picking a vase from the cabinet you filled it with some water and placed the bouquet inside, placing them on the coffee table to display. You dug through your bag for your phone, finally finding it and opening the text chain with Emily.

‘The flowers are gorgeous, thank you.’

‘You’re such a good girl I figured you deserved a little treat.’

‘It’s much appreciated.’

‘Speaking of… your upcoming events, do you need anything for them?’

‘I’m picking up a couple of dresses from alterations this week, haven’t looked through my accessories though.’

‘I’ll keep that in mind.’

‘Thank you. Enjoy New York, eat a bagel or a slice of pizza for me.’

‘Oh now that’s just a guarantee’

You chuckled as you locked your phone, sliding it back onto the island before you turned back to the fridge, eyes flicking through what was left and still usable for you to meal prep a bit for the upcoming week.

Said upcoming week flew by faster than you’d expected, likely due to all of the added on extra tasks you had to complete by six p.m. on Friday. Even with the slew of assistants strewn through Heather’s team, everything had to be perfect, double or triple checked, approved by Heather or yourself before appointments were confirmed, meetings were booked, or things were publicized or printed. You often wondered if it was actually financially worth having your own personal assistant considering the amount of things you either did yourself or had to be redone. (Not that it really mattered to you, they weren’t on your payroll).

Friday’s banquet wasn’t much for you to worry about, just made sure you were dressed the part and were ready when the car rolled up to your condo. Dinner was over and cocktails were in full swing, time for schmoozing, networking and making sure that everyone went home remembering the Dunbar name and philosophy. You’d stepped outside briefly after dinner, chatting with a congressman while he had a cigar and gave you the opportunity to stretch your legs. Walking back inside you found a high top table to settle against, pulling out your work phone to read a handful of emails.

“You know, you are allowed to put that thing away, right?” Heather teased, sliding a glass of Cristal across the table to you and you rolled your eyes, locking the device.

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew I was confirming some very affluent last minute sponsors for tomorrow.” You took a sip of the champagne, thinking back to your conversation on the terrace “and you’re welcome, Blythe will be voting in favour next week.”

“Good girl.” She grinned, clinking her glass with yours before her eyes drifted to the bracelet around your wrist. Her gaze lingered for a moment then moved upward and she reached out, lifting your earring with a curled finger before her eyes dropped to the gem resting on the swell of your chest. “Matching set?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded over a sip of your drink.

“Haven’t seen it before.”

“It’s new.” You replied, a small smirk on the corner of your mouth.

“Looks expensive.”

“If you’re trying to suggest it’s out of my budget, you’d be correct.”

“It’s nice to see Emily has good taste.”

“Among other things.” There was a gleam in your eye that Heather was eager to find out more about, a smirk on her lips as she took another sip of her drink.

“Glad to hear.” Was all she had time to reply with when another body sauntered up to your table.

“Not surprised to see you two here.” Tony greeted with a wide smile, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek before he reached out a hand, “Ms. Dunbar.”

“You know, I am surprised to see you here.”

“Drew the short straw.” He shrugged, “director had something come up, Gibbs would rather be caught dead than at one of these things and McGee doesn’t know his Dolce from American Eagle.”

“What about that other Agent you have right now, the little feisty one?” Heather asked, sly smile on her lips as Tony chuckled, scratching at the back of his neck in an attempt to distract from the blush creeping up his cheeks.

“Ziva? These aren’t really her style; she wouldn’t even know where to start.”

“I mean you could’ve at least brought her as a date, shown her the ropes so she knows for next time.” You offered, nudging at his shoulder and he let out another little huff.

“Oh, no, I mean, she’d hate that. She’d spend half the night flirting her way through the crowd and the other half having to convince everyone we weren’t actually together.”

“So she’s available?” Heather asked with a teasing smirk, pulling an awkward laugh from Tony.

“I— uh, well…” He stuttered, “maybe a little too… controlling… to be your style.” He suddenly leant against the table with his elbow, “but you know McGee does have a sister…”

“Do tell.” Heather grinned over the rim of her glass, pulling an eye roll from you.

“No!” You punched Tony’s arm before swatting in Heather’s direction. “Your dance card is already full,” you turned to Tony, “and she is way too young.”

“From what I heard, that’s how she likes it.” He muttered and you rolled your eyes as Heather chuckled.

“Age is just a number.”

“She graduated high school last year. That puts her younger than your kids.” You retorted, watching the way Heather’s nose crinkled before she laughed, happy to have found some amount of amusement from a night like tonight.

She let out a soft sigh as her eyes fixated on something across the room, “there’s Conway, looks like my time is now.” She turned back to you, “Durant may need some more convincing and I haven’t seen Sharp yet.”

“Please, all I need to do is bat my eyelashes in Jackie’s general direction and she’ll do whatever I want.”

“That’s why I keep you around.” With a smile and a nod to DiNozzo, she scooped up her champagne flute and made her way across the ballroom.

“Was… she serious?” He asked hesitantly and you laughed.

“No!” You took another gulp of your drink, “besides, like I said, her schedule’s full, she can’t take on more right now.”

“Speaking of schedules.” He grinned, waggling his eyebrows at you, “I’m surprised to see you here on a weekend, thought those were for secret romps and exchanges of sugar.”

“You know, sometimes I wonder just how suave of a man you could be if you just let your brain think things through before they came out of your mouth.”

“Stop.” He groaned, leaning against the table as he turned to you, “or are you just saving your hot date for tomorrow night?”

“This week didn’t line up, I’ve got that fundraiser all weekend, which, you should bring your team to make it a little family outing.”

“I’ll think about it.” He took a swig of his beer, “really puts a wrench in your plans then, I can already tell you’re getting grumpy.”

“Anthony…” you warned, “we met up last weekend. It was kind of last minute but we made use of the time we had.”

“So no hot dates during the week?”

“Not usually, but we’re both busy, plus she was in New York all week at conferences.”

“A rich woman, who travels for work,” he began to tick them off on his fingers, “outranks NCIS, has significant style tastes, works full time during the week and sometimes weekends… are you sure you aren’t dating a politician.”

“I—” you paused, head tilting for a second before you nodded, “yes. Government employed but not by the White House.”

“Isn’t everyone technically government employed?”

“And we’re not dating, I thought you of all people would understand the stipulations of a financial beneficiary pairing.”

“Oh yeah, and what’s that?” He asked, eyes gleaming.

“She buys me nice things, pays for my hair or nail appointments, adds to my jewellery collection, makes sure my fridge is always full, sends fresh flowers weekly.” You spotted one of the people Heather wanted you to talk to on the other side of the room and drained your drink, “and in return I meet up with her at high end hotels on the weekends and let her fuck my brains out.”

Even though Tony had been expecting it, your brashness still left him choking on his beer as you smirked at him, picking up your empty glass to grab a refill from the bar and one for Durant.

Seven days later and fucking your brains out was exactly what Emily was doing.

It had been less than an hour and if she’d asked you about dinner, you wouldn’t have been able to remember a single thing. All you could think about was the feeling of her buried inside you, hitting deeper with each powerful thrust of her hips. Your hands clawed at the bedspread, eyes scrunched shut as your cunt pulsed around the toy, moans louder with each time she sunk into you. Her hands tightly gripped your hips, hard enough you were sure there would be fingerprint shaped bruises come morning. You let out a little whimper, your nipples rubbing against the duvet every time she fucked into you, the multiple sensations driving you absolutely wild.

“More…” you groaned out, a gasp leaving your lips when she spanked you.

“God you really do like it rough, don’t you?”

“Mmhmm.” You managed to nod, fire shooting through your body, your clit throbbing as you ground it down onto the bed.

“Gonna need you to come soon princess.” She dropped over your body, husking into your ear while one hand tangled into your hair, yanking at the roots and you let out a blissful cry. Her mouth latched onto your neck, teeth scraping the sensitive skin as her free had wound around your middle, fingers pinching at your clit.

“Fuck!” You cried out, “oh fuu-cck. Don’t stop!”

Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, holding back any louder moans, whimpers and whines bouncing off the walls along with the wet sounds coming from your pussy. Your juices coated Emily’s cock, smearing across both of your thighs, more than enough for her to gather up as she rubbed your clit. She could feel you trembling in her arms, your hips bucking back against hers as you started to lose control.

“That’s it baby, you’re so close. Come for me.” She nipped at your earlobe, her breath hot on your skin right as she pressed harder on your clit and you were coming undone in her arms, a shaky cry coming from deep in your throat.

“Oh fuck…” you muttered, collapsing down onto the bed while she continued to fuck you through your orgasm, her hips slowing just a hint.

“So good for me.” She panted, “where do you want my cum? In that pretty mouth? Hmm? Or maybe on this gorgeous ass?” A breathy gasp left your lips when she spanked you again and you moaned, pussy fluttering around her cock as you were coming up on a second orgasm.

“Inside me!” You whined, “please!”

“She likes it rough and she’s dirty?” Emily chuckled, “we’ve got a lot more to explore.”

She watched as your body shivered, thighs clenching together and your hands bunched tightly into fists as your second peak washed over you and then she let out a groan, stilling with her hips right against yours. Her hand quickly found the base of the toy, squeezing hard and you let out a satisfied moan at the feeling of her spilling deep inside you. Emily’s hand soothed up and down your back, watching as you caught your breath before she pulled the toy almost all of the way out of your pussy. She let out a low swear at the sight of it coated in a mixture of your cum and the lube before slowly nudging it back into you, fucking her cum deeper into your drenched cunt. You trembled again, a sheen of goosebumps breaking out on your skin and she finally pulled out of you, skilfully ridding herself of the strap to be dealt with later.

“Christ…” you muttered, your head burying itself into the pillows and Emily let out a small chuckle as she dropped down onto the bed beside you.

“Seems like you’re a little fucked senseless?” She offered and you let out a small laugh, your eyes barely blinking open to look over at her.

“Not to deflate your ego,” you let out a large yawn, “because you certainly did, but I am also just completely fucking wiped. I barely slept all week. Between Heather’s bill proposals and the upcoming endorsements I’ve been working twenty hour days.” Emily snuck under the blankets, an arm draping over the top of the pillows and you practically nuzzled into her side, yawning again as your eyes fluttered shut.

“Hey!” She swatted at your side, “none of that, you need to use the bathroom.”

“C’mon…” you whined, burrowing yourself deeper into the blankets and Emily tsk’d at you, pinching your chin until you opened your eyes.

“If you want me to come inside you again you’re going to use the bathroom missy.”

“Fine.” You grumbled, shivering as you pushed back the blankets and padded to the en-suite, much to Emily’s satisfaction. You returned a few minutes later, make up wiped from your face and teeth brushed, climbing back into the bed as you let out another yawn, curling around Emily’s side. “Are you staying?”

She shrugged, “got nowhere else to be. You mind if I keep the tv on?”

“Not at all. I’ll probably be dead to the world anyways.”

She chuckled softly, feeling you relax against her body as she started to flick through the channels. It wasn’t that late and while her week had been long it clearly hadn’t been as taxing as yours was. You were asleep within minutes, softly snoring against her and she made a mental note to start sending you good night texts in an attempt to make sure you were getting enough rest.

__________________

@daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @blackbird-brewster @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sire-blog @daffodil-heart @maximoffcarter @i-lovefandom @chimnlex @moonlightjxuregui @chestnutninny

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #criminal minds #decadent desires #bff: anthony dinozzo #heather dunbar guest star

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ladykailitha · 4 months

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Paper Hearts Part 4

I finished it!! It will have 8 chapters. I'm excited for you guys to see where this goes! I'm still working on Sweet Home Indiana and will be focusing on that until ITS done. Then we'll be back our regularly schedule WIPs.

We have Eddie's big plan and Steve gets his flirt on.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

****

Steve slipped into the kitchen and there in his mother’s neat handwriting was a note telling him that there were leftovers in the fridge and that they would be home again next Friday.

He sighed and opened the fridge. He immediately closed it when he saw what the leftovers were.

Boiled cabbage with chopped bacon and carrots. It wasn’t bad if it was made correctly, but his mother boiled any flavor and nutrients out of the poor vegetables and then tossed in cooked bacon to hide its sins.

He opened the cupboard and pulled out a small can of Campbell’s chicken noodle soup and made that. He was craving the sodium. Eddie’s beef was good to get his body to stop shaking, but he had sweat so much he needed to replenish the salt he’d lost.

Once Steve had eaten and drank another glass of water he went to go get a shower and get ready for bed. It was no use trying to get back to his homework now. He had managed to blow up his whole evening by getting lost.

He had no idea how he got to Forest Hills or even why his feet carried him there in the first place. He could feel the weariness seeping into his bones from running for so long.

He undressed and got under the scorching water, letting the heat carry away his pains. His mind ran through all the things that Munson had done for him. The guy had no reason to be nice to him, but he had been more than gracious.

Then it hit him. Munson had called him Stevie, and without thinking Steve had called him Eds.

Eds.

Where the fuck did that come from? They weren’t friends, they could barely be considered acquaintances. Was his brain reaching out to the guy subconsciously? Is that why he ended up at the trailer park? Everyone knew that’s where Munson lived. Who knew how many times the guy had been called trailer trash, but the older teen seemed to rise above the insult.

Steve shook his head, spraying water everywhere. Just because Munson picked up lost sheep, didn’t mean he’d be willing to taken in an injured wolf. Because that’s what he was, reformed or not, Steve would never be a sheep. He would always be a wolf. A predator.

But at least as a wolf he could protect those kids with everything he had. And he would, even if it killed him.

The water had long since turned cold by the time Steve stepped out of the shower. He completed his after shower routine mostly on autopilot as he kept going over his interactions with both Munson men. He didn’t really have good interactions with dads or in this case uncles. But Munson’s uncle Wayne treated him with kindness and he could see where the older boy got it from.

He dressed into his pajamas and slid under the covers. He rolled over on his back and tucked one arm under his pillow, staring up at the ceiling.

Steve thought back to the apology. One Munson really didn’t have to give but did anyway. He thought about the other jocks that bragged about hurting his hand. He held it up and looked at the fading bruise. It wasn’t as though he was even basketball anymore. Hurting his hand wouldn’t do anything but make it hard to do his homework and all he had to do is show his teachers his hurt hand and he’d get extensions for that. Like he had for his concussion last November.

But then again Tommy H. never had reasons for the people he hurt either. He just liked the power he got seeing the person helpless.

He placed his hand over his heart and let himself drift off the sleep, brown eyes and dark curls haunting his dreams.

****

Eddie had originally bought the red heart for himself like he had told the two juniors. But staring at it now, he had a better plan for it. Because that last wall, that last bastion of defense crumbled to ashes when he realized that despite the fancy car, the big house, and the expensive clothes, Steve Harrington was more like Eddie than he thought possible.

Wayne’s approval of the boy cemented that for him. Because if he could take one look at Steve and decide he was worth saving, then Eddie raring to go full steam ahead for a rescue mission.

Eddie could tell that the hearts were made from simple construction paper, like the kind found just about anywhere. He knew it would be technically cheating to just simply make more instead of buying them, but he had no intention of contributing to a dance he was never going to go to because one, it wasn’t his year; two, the whole gay thing; and three, the one person he would want to go with if the gay thing wouldn’t get him hate crimed, wouldn’t give him the time of day.

Well, all right, that might have changed with the whole rescuing him from wandering alone in the dark thing.

He forgave Eddie about being a dumbass, so maybe there was hope for, at the very least, a vast decrease in hostility. And he was willing to take what he could get.

He decided to wait until tomorrow after school to get the construction paper and hope that the high school hadn’t bought up the town’s supply.

On his way out the next morning, Wayne stopped him.

“You don’t have to tell me, son,” he said gently, “but you got feelings for that boy?”

Eddie froze and turned slowly to face his uncle. “What gave you that idea?”

Wayne chuckled and shook his head fondly. “Boy, when you’d go on rants about the Harrington boy, you’d describe his floppy hair, his hazel eyes and how unfairly good looking the kid was. I didn’t say anything because it did sound like he’d been a bit of an ass. Only after last night I got to thinking and was wondering is all.”

Eddie closed his eyes and opened them slowly. He let out a long shuddering breath, his bottom lip quivering.

“I–I don’t...” he closed his eyes again. This wasn’t Al. He wasn’t going to get beat for admitting it, but still it was so hard to say. So he just nodded.

Wayne came up and wrapped his arms around his nephew. “It’s a hell of a lot tougher batting for the other team, but I trust your judgment. Just promise me that if he shows signs of liking you back, you take the chance to tell him how you feel because...”

“You miss one hundred percent of the chances you don’t take,” they said together.

Eddie dropped his bag to the floor and hugged him back. “I know, old man. But I promise if there is a chance, I’ll be brave enough to take it.”

“Get going,” Wayne said, voicing cracking with emotion.

He pulled back and nodded. He reshouldered his backpack and got in his van.

He had a lot to think about and that really wasn’t conducive to paying attention in class or to his friends as they talked about their upcoming D&D session.

Gareth kicked his shin causing him to yelp.

“What the fuck, dude?” Eddie hissed.

“What the fuck is up with you?” Gareth hissed back. “You’ve been going on and on about the mind flayer for weeks and now that it’s literally this weekend, and you’re off in some other realm.”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment before his brain came back on. He shook his head to clear it.

“Yeah, sorry, man,” he said around a pretzel. “Weird night last night.”

“What happened?” Jeff asked, tilting his head to the side.

So Eddie told them. “He was like a ghost, guys. If Wayne hadn’t seen him too, I would have thought I was hitting Mary Jane a little too hard, you know?”

“I didn’t realize he was getting bullied,” Brian said, frowning. “I would have thought with Hargrove giving the dude a wide berth, that everyone else would have too.”

“Untouchable,” Jeff agreed. “The fact that jocks are now splintering into factions tells you what kind of control Steve actually had on them.”

Eddie rubbed his chin. “I don’t know how true this is, but if Harrington wasn’t lying, he’s a real sweetheart, too.”

Then he leaned forward and explained about the pink heart scheme.

“So,” Gareth said, steepling his fingers and resting his chin on them, “you’re telling us is that we have been seriously remiss in our duties in collecting lost sheep.”

The older teen sighed and shook his head. “I’d like to collect him, but I’m afraid the wolves might decide to rip him apart before we got him to safety if we tried.”

Jeff winced. He knew what Eddie was talking about. Steve Harrington wasn’t the usual lost sheep. He might be bullied now, but as King, Harrington had run far too long with the wolves to think that they could protect him one hundred percent of the time.

“So what are we going to do?” Brian asked. “Because if we let this slide, we’re throwing our lot in with the bullies and that’s something I refuse to do.”

A grin spread out over Eddie’s face, closed lips and dimples entrenched into his cheeks. “We’re going to make the school think that he’s just as popular as he ever was.”

The other three boys looked at each other in confusion.

“So what have you got?” Gareth asked, his own grin starting to take over his face.

****

Eddie made sure to get to class early so he could see where Steve was going to sit. He tried to tell himself it was about the dude’s hand, but it wasn’t working. He wanted to see if the former Hawkins royalty would chose to sit with his old friends or by him again.

He didn’t have long to wait. Steve walked in not long after he did, just as the bell rang. He didn’t even look at his old desk near the front and beelined it for the chair he had sat in on Friday.

The teacher picked up on the change immediately and wrinkled her nose. “I am to suppose that you are taking up permanent residence in the back with Mr. Munson, Mr. Harrington?”

Steve half shrugged as he began to pull out his things for class. “I got more work done, Mrs. Dixon and I really want to graduate on time.”

Mrs. Dixon nodded. “Agreed and as long as you continue the level of attention from last week, you are permitted to stay there.”

About half way through class while Mrs. Dixon was grading papers, Tommy H. turned around and kicked Steve’s chair. “Suck up,” he hissed.

Steve puckered his lips and wagged his eyebrows. “Why? Do you want to be next?”

Tommy turned back around, his face bright red.

Eddie raised an eyebrow and cocked his head to the side as he considered everything about that interaction.

A little blossom of hope sprouted in his chest and he fought to keep it down. Steve had insinuated that other people were gay for years, but to Eddie’s highly trained gay ears, that sounded like Steve was offering to suck Tommy H.’s dick and that Tommy didn’t exactly turn him down.

Curiouser and curiouser, he thought tapping his lips thoughtfully. More research would have to be done.

He pulled out a different notebook, the one he used for campaign notes and song lyrics.

He wrote girls over one column and boys over the other and began tallying what he knew about the former King of Hawkins.

A shit ton went into the Steve liking girls column, but there was surprisingly more in the liking boys column then he would have thought possible. He looked up to catch Steve smirking at him.

Eddie quickly covered his notebook and stuck his tongue out at Steve.

The other boy shook his head and went back to doing the assignment. Eddie was more careful about what he left out in the open because he didn’t want Steve teased for it nor did he want him to see that Eddie was trying to figure him out.

The bell rang and the notebook was suddenly whisked off his desk.

“Hey!” Eddie cried, looking up to see Steve dancing away with the notebook teasingly. “Stevie!” He grabbed his bag and chased after the other boy. But the other boy was a jock and Eddie was wheezing for breath by the time he caught up with him at his locker.

“Give that back,” he huffed.

Steve gave him a bright smile and handed it back. “I just made a minor addition.”

Eddie frowned as he flipped through the pages but didn’t see anything. Steve took it back and turned to the correct page and leaned close so that only Eddie could hear.

“I trust you’ll keep my secret,” he whispered and then dropped to one knee to start getting into his locker.

Eddie gulped at the sight and turned to the paper to avoid saying something stupid. There in bold capital letters under his girls/guys columns was the word BOTH.

He looked up at Steve who had stood up. Steve winked at him and then walked away, leaving a shocked Eddie behind.

****

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Tag List:

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @slv-333 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

@goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer

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#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes

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redflagshipwriter · 4 months

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Hot Ghouls Chapter 10 1/2

Masterpost

At 8:00 pm, Danny scraped himself off the counter at his work-study position and gathered up his books. His replacement, Angelica, was already setting up by adjusting the height of the spinning chair in front of the best computer. She was a little older than him, a Junior maybe? She had been his training supervisor.

A patron came up while he was putting his notebooks in his bag. Angelica checked them out, soft beeps marking each book. He hung around a few moments until she finished and the student went out the door.

“Hey, Angie?” He asked. “I saw you're on closing Saturday. I'm on opening.” Danny fidgeted. “Would you be okay with a trade?” He was going to have to stay out late tonight, and there was no way he’d be able to catch up on missed sleep on Friday. He knew from experience that he’d be staggering all Saturday if he really had to be at the library by 8 am.

Angelica blinked and paused for a moment as she thought it over. “Tentatively, it's fine,” she decided. “I'll text you when I know for sure. I have to check with Birdie.”

Danny put his hands up. “Fair enough,” he said agreeably, “I owe you one either way for trying.”

“It's not a problem, I have to work the same hours either way.” Angelica opened up a browser and then started setting up whatever schoolwork she had to keep her occupied until midnight. “Have a good night, Danny. Take care out there. Stay away from banks.”

He promised that he would and then he slouched out onto the dim campus. It was pretty dead at the moment. People were mostly off campus, or in their dorms getting ready to go out for the night, Danny figured. He started the walk home on autopilot.

Danny hadn’t forgotten that he promised Jason he’d focus on their problem, and it didn’t matter that Jason had been kind of a creep about it. It was still high up his priority list.

But the more he thought about it, the more freaked out he was that Waters had managed to do it in the first place. It should have been impossible. There had to be a factor that they didn’t know about, but Danny wasn’t enough of an expert on piercing the veil between life and death to figure that out without tanking his grades. He hadn’t been able to get a hold of Vlad yet, either.

His tentative theories all seemed bonkers. Maybe Waters had gotten hold of some kind of magical focus, or gotten sponsored by someone with a lot of hocus pocus. Maybe Waters was a tool for someone else’s scheme, as opposed to just being a useless tool like usual. It was also possible that Jason was the weird factor. It seemed like a big coincidence, though, that Waters would stumble upon a sacrificial victim who actually was already eligible to reside in the Infinite Realms. Vlad had said it would be possible for a ghost on the living world side to get sent packing by Waters’ bullshit, but that possibility was outright silly. What ghost would A: be in the human world; and B: get caught by Jeremy friggin Waters or even sillier, C: want to get engaged to Danny?

It was a moot point. Jason gave Danny some weird feelings that he suspected might be like, puberty related, but he definitely wasn’t a ghost. Danny could tell that, at least. He was a flashy-dressing biker tough guy. He was probably a community theatre escapee, what with the cherry red helmet with weird face shape molding and his dramatic play to lounge around one of Danny’s regular study spots, but come on. He was just some dude. Kind of a dorky dude, even.

‘Massively hot, though,’ Danny had to acknowledge. He could never let Jazz know. Or Sam. Or Tucker. Or-

He shuddered at the thought of his parents meeting his accidental fiance.

Just, no. The only person he could probably trust around Jason was, idk… Wulf?

“I need better friends,” Danny muttered. He jogged down the final set of concrete stairs that led off campus and into the city itself.

It was debatable as to whether there was any point in going back to his apartment. The backpack on his shoulders wasn’t that heavy. If he went there, he’d basically dump his luggage and change and then have to go…

Danny made a face and fished out his phone. He optimistically changed directions before he could finish typing his request to crash at Jazz’s place for the night. On the one hand, she would know firsthand how little sleep he was going to get. On the other hand, this would shave hours off of his travel.

He was nearly to his sister’s apartment near the main Gotham U campus when she sent back a message.

:( I’m not home tonight, but my roommate is! If you can ghost in without her knowing, go for it! But she really can’t know, I can’t have guests when I’m not there to supervise.

Danny typed up a message with a little emoji robber accusing her of criminal actions before he remembered he shouldn’t bite the hand that let him crash.

You’re saving my entire afterlife, he sent instead.

#red hot ghouls #dp x dc #dc x dp #dead on main

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javierpena-inatacvest · 11 months

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Chapter 16- The Lone Star State

Summary: You and Javi head to Dallas for the weekend to make good on his Christmas present to the Stars vs. Blackhawks game. While you're there, you run into someone from your past that sets the weekend in a different direction.

Word Count: 15.7K (I'm genuinely so sorry except I'm not)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) strap in y'all... unprotected p in v sex, creampie, breeding kink, praise kink, oral (f and m receiving), vaginal fingering, light bondage (aren't we glad Javi brought his work tie?!), multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, dom/sub Javi AND Osita (omg y'all), Javi being a whining, WHIMPERING mess (it deserves its own warning) violence (Javi punches someone), alcohol/being tipsy, food/eating, I'm not even gonna lie everyone... This chapter is really just hockey and sex LMAOOOOO

A/N: Trick or Treat! Here's a lil Halloween something for all of you being so patient and waiting for me to finish this unexpected monster 🫣 I swear, I thought I was gonna struggle to make this chapter long enough, and now here we are, with the longest NTL chapter to date 🥴 SO EAT UP AND ENJOY 🤪 Shout out to @endlessthxxghts for listening to my horny ramblings about this chapter ILYYYYYYY

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

Your teacher guilt had never been good at letting you take days off. You had gone to school with sore throats, stuffy noses, fevers, hell, you had gone to school with what you were convinced was the plague because you felt so bad leaving your class with a sub. So when it came to taking personal days, it was safe to say, you felt even worse. That’s why Javi knew when he had planned your Christmas trip to Dallas with a Friday night game for the Chicago Blackhawks vs. the Dallas Stars, he was going to need plenty of backup support from your co-workers to convince you it was okay to take a Friday afternoon off to do something for yourself to enjoy.

“Okay, and just make sure that the substitute knows that all of the worksheets for math are on my desk next to-”

“MIJA. Dios Mio. Yes, yes, yes, I will make sure the substitute knows where everything is. It is a Friday afternoon, all she needs to do is keep them alive. Don’t worry about a thing, I promise I have it covered. Now go! Tu futuro esposo te está esperando! (Your future husband is waiting for you!)” Maria waved her hand at you, practically shooing you out of your own classroom, trying to get you to stop explaining your very detailed plans you had left behind that you had already told her 4 different times leading up to today, in addition to leaving an extra copy on her desk, just in case something went wrong.

“Okay, okay! Thank you Maria. You’re the best.” You laughed, slinging your bag over your shoulder, starting to make your way down the hall to the front office.

“Yo se. Ten un buen fin de semana! (I know. Have a fun weekend!). Not too much fun, if you know what I mean.” Maria winked, waving goodbye as she walked the opposite direction back towards her own classroom.

“Maria!” You grimaced, your face turning bright red watching her cackle in delight as she closed her door behind her. You took a final breath as you headed down the hallway, convincing yourself that your class would be just fine for their substitute, and even if they weren’t, well, that would just have to be Monday’s problem.

“Man, you’re really sexy for a taxi driver, you taking people to the airport, hottie?” you giggled, hopping into the passenger’s side of Javi’s truck, tossing your school bag into the backseat with the rest of your suitcases. Like most people’s jobs, Javi’s work at the sheriff’s department didn’t require him to leave behind detailed instructions of how to keep 25 8 year olds alive and educated when he wanted to take time off, so he had offered to leave work early to pack up all of your things so you could head right to the airport from Alma Pierce Elementary. “Oh my god, and you got BLT’s from Alejandro’s, too? Sexiness and bringing me sandwiches? This is the best cab ride I’ve ever had.” The two of you laughed as Javi rolled his eyes at you, passing you over your sandwich as you headed en route to the Laredo Airport.

“You’re such a weirdo. How was your day, Osita?” Javi asked, reaching over to place his hand on your leg, gently tracing circles in the denim of your jeans as you chowed down on your sandwich, finally getting a chance at a bite of food for the first time since breakfast.

“Better now that I’m with you. And that you brought me this delicious sandwich. I’ve been so distracted all day because I’ve been so excited for this weekend.” You beamed through bites of your BLT, reaching down to give Javi’s hand a squeeze.

“Me too, Hermosa. I’ve never been to Dallas before, so I’m glad my first trip is with you.”

“Seriously? I guess I forget how big Texas is. It’s probably like what, a 7 hour drive from Laredo?” You shrugged, taking another bite of your sandwich, trying to calculate the distance in your brain.

“About 6 and a half. Which is exactly why we’re flying, and not driving.”

“What? You don’t wanna spend 6 and a half hours in the car with me?” You smirked, giving him a playful nudge with your elbow before crossing your arms over your chest.

“No, I don’t wanna spend 5 hours and 45 minutes by myself driving while you sleep the whole way.” He laughed, elbowing you back, the both of you knowing you made the worst road trip partner for any drive longer than an hour, since you’d be sound asleep in the passenger’s seat as Javi drove.

“To be fair, you’re always the one driving.” You retorted, rolling your eyes at his jab, knowing he wasn’t wrong.

“Because you refuse to drive my truck, and I’m convinced if you drive your car anywhere more than 10 miles at a time, it’ll collapse.”

“Hey! Woodstock can make it at least a good 50 before I start to get genuinely concerned. I trust him more than I trust the metal death trap we’re about to ride in. I think you just like watching me suffer while we fly because you know how much I hate it.” You sassed, giving him an unseriously stern look that had you on the verge of bursting into laughter.

“I think the bones in my hand would beg to differ, Hermosa. After the past two flights to Chicago, I’m surprised I have any left considering the death grip you have every time we take off and land.” Javi chuckled, nudging you back.

“Like I said Jav, you’re the one who booked the flight, can’t blame this one on me.”

To neither of your surprise, you couldn’t help but find your hand tightly wrapped in Javi’s for the hour and a half flight from Laredo to Dallas. Although he refrained from giving you any shit as you sat only partially paralyzed next to him on your trip, his “I told you so” look as the two of you got off the plane was all he needed to do to have you rolling your eyes, knowing as long as the two of you flew together, he would always tease you for crushing his hand, but you and him both knew he wouldn’t want it any other way.

Your cab ride from the airport to the hotel was a quick trip, Javi picking a hotel downtown close to fun bars and restaurants for the two of you to try, and to Reunion Arena where you were headed in a few hours to watch the Stars and the Blackhawks play. You both unpacked your bags from the taxi, Javi insisting that he carry your bag too. It didn’t take long into your relationship for you to give up on trying to persuade Javi that you could carry your own bags, open your own doors or go get things yourself, his response always being “I know you can, Hermosa, but I want to.” While the stubborn part of you always wanted to fight him on it, there was always a part of you that couldn’t help but smile every time he insisted on doing things for you simply because he wanted to, for no other reason than the fact he loved you.

“Hi, we’re checking in. The name should be under Javier Peña.” Javi smiled at the woman at the front desk of the hotel as the both of you strolled up hand in hand.

“Alright Mr. and Mrs. Peña it looks like we’ve got you checking in tonight and then checking out on Sunday, is that correct?” The woman nodded back at the two of you, clicking away at the keyboard in front of her to gather the rest of your room information. You and Javi paused for a moment, quietly looking at each other with smug grins on your faces, feeling no need to correct her mistake.

“Yup, that’s us.” You chimed in, giving Javi a little nudge under the counter, still smirking at the thought of hearing your last name as his.

“Perfect! We have you staying in room 403. If you take a left down this hallway, the elevators are right that way. Have a wonderful stay, Mr. and Mrs. Peña!” The woman grinned, handing over your room keys and gesturing down the hallway, the two of you nodding back, giving a polite thanks as you grabbed your bags and headed off towards your room.

“Didn’t feel the need to correct her on that one, huh?” You giggled, playfully poking at Javi as the two of you waited for the elevator.

“Absolutely not, Mrs. Peña.” He grinned, grabbing your bags as the two of you stepped through the open doors of the elevator, glad to find it empty as you pressed the button to ride up to your floor. “Fuck, I can’t believe in a few months you’re actually gonna be my wife. God, I can’t wait.”

You could feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, butterflies swirling in your stomach as you looked up at him, soft smiles spread across both your faces. “Me neither. Crazy to think the next time we stay at a hotel together it’ll be on our honeymoon.” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at him, biting down on your lip. Javi shook his head, running his hand over his face almost in disbelief before pulling you in closer, reaching his hand down to grab a handful of your ass as his voice rasped in your ear.

“Fuck me. Better make sure we put this hotel room to good use and get some practice in before we go then, huh?”

Before you could respond, you could hear the ding of the elevator doors sliding open, Javi quickly pulling away, noticing several hotel guests standing on the other side of the door, grabbing your bags and getting off the elevator. You let out a deep sigh, trying to compose yourself as you excused yourself through the small crowd, giving Javi a goofy, stern look as he laughed, carting your bags behind him as you made your way down the hall towards your room.

“You cannot just be saying stuff like that, you menace. You know we do not have time to do anything before we have to leave, and you’re gonna get me all hot and bothered.” You grimaced, playfully swatting at him as he set down your things to grab the room key out of his pocket.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Osita. I would never do that.” Javi joked, a boyish grin growing between his cheeks as he pushed open the door, hauling your bags inside. “Plus, you know I could make it quick, we could have time if you really wanted to.” Throwing your bags down on the ground next to the bed, Javi smirked as he sat down on the edge, giving you the sweet brown eyes he knew you couldn’t resist.

“Oh bullshit you never would, you dork.” You rolled your eyes, making your way over to Javi, slotting yourself in between his legs as you ran your hands through the soft brown curls of his hair, pressing a tender kiss on his lips before pulling away, cupping your hand around his cheek. “Believe me, I know you could, but the game starts in an hour and a half and we still have to eat dinner and get to the stadium. You spent all this money on me to take me here to see the game and we’re not missing it because you can’t keep it in your pants, mister.”

“When you’ve got a future wife as hot as you, can you blame me?” Javi shrugged, wrapping his arms around your waist, reaching his hands down to grab your ass again, tugging you hard enough to make you fall over on top of him, making you giggle as you landed on his chest.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that? Believe me, once we get back, my future husband can have me any way he wants me. But right now, we have a hockey game to get to, Mr. Peña.” You grinned, biting down on your lip before giving him another quick kiss and pushing yourself off the bed, leaving Javi still laying down wide eyed and worked up as you rummaged through your suitcase, pulling out a Blackhawks jersey for you, and one from Charlie’s extensive collection for Javi to borrow, tossing it on the bed next to him. You shuffled out of the sweater you had worn to work, leaving you in just your bra and jeans as you searched through your bag to pull out a crewneck to wear under your jersey.

“Any way? You’re not making this any easier on me.” Javi huffed, beginning to shed his own jacket to change, undressing you with his eyes faster than you could have undressed yourself.

“Well you’re not about to make it any easier on me once you put that jersey on either.” You sighed, watching Javi throw on his jersey over his shirt, your jaw immediately going slack at the sight. “Jesus Christ, you’re so hot. God, I can’t even look at you. C’mon, we gotta get outta here before we miss this whole game.” You laughed, overdramatically shielding your eyes from Javi, marching your way over to the door to avoid any temptations. Javi chuckled, grabbing his jacket and following behind you, opening up the door for you, outstretching his arm toward the hallway.

“After you, Mrs. Peña.”

Someway or another, the two of you managed to make it out of the hotel, deciding on a barbeque restaurant down the street from the stadium for dinner. The two of you decided to get ribs to split, leaving Javi equal parts shocked and impressed at the speed you demolished your dinner, realizing you were much hungrier than you had anticipated. After finishing your dinner, the two of you walked over to Reunion Arena, perhaps feeling a little like the odd ones out in your red and black amongst a sea of green and gold, but the feeling of being back in a stadium to watch a live hockey game filled you with a sense of comfort and content even if you were far from your home arena in Chicago.

“I haven’t been to an NHL game in so long. You seriously have no idea how excited I am for this, thank you so much, Jav.” You beamed, squeezing his hand as the two of you made your way into the arena, working your way through the sizeable crowd, considering how well the Dallas Stars had been doing this season. “I feel honored to be the first one to take you to your first professional hockey game.”

“Of course, Osita. I’m excited to be here with you. If it wasn’t for you, I would have gone my whole life without ever watching a hockey game.” Javi smiled, gripping your hand a little tighter than usual as you navigated through the sea of fans, trying to find your seats.

There hadn’t been many instances where you and Javi had found yourselves in large crowds of people, but whenever you did, you could always sense the slight shift in Javi’s demeanor- While it didn’t make him uneasy, you could always tell he was a little more on alert and on edge. Your brothers had been the same way when they had come back from active duty whenever they were in crowds, and you could understand why Javi felt that way, too. But what Javi was that your brothers weren’t when you found yourselves in these situations was overly protective of you. Holding your hand tighter than normal, shielding your body with his whenever you had to walk through a crowd, giving guys who looked in your direction a little too long a death glare he hoped you wouldn’t catch- Javi would never admit it, knowing the stubborn and independent woman you were, but you knew just as well as he did that he got just a touch more possessive whenever the two of you went out, and tonight was no exception.

Javi had tried to chalk it up to the fact that you stood out because of your opposing jerseys, but he couldn’t help but notice the looks that you had been getting since the minute you had entered the stadium, the wandering eyes of groups of guys with their buddies silently nodding to each other with subtle smirks on their faces as you unassumingly walked by. And while he was never worried that you would do anything about it, he couldn’t help but feel a little heat start to burn in the pit of his stomach as men looked your way a little too long, especially as the two of you walked hand in hand through the arena, the men glancing in your direction knowing you were off limits because you were his. While he wouldn’t say it, and was going to try his damndest not to show it, Javi couldn’t help but feel a little jealous.

After a quick walk through the arena, you and Javi found your section, practically dragging him down the steps towards your seats in excitement to know your seats were right up against the boards at center ice, which, to you, were the best seats in all of hockey regardless of where you were watching. “Javi, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, these seats are amazing, I have never had seats this good at a hockey game ever! You sure these are our seats? Like, we actually get to sit here?” You squealed, pointing to the pair of empty seats in your row, practically bouncing in excitement.

“Yes, actually.” Javi laughed, beaming at your pure joy and excitement as you plopped into your spots, watching you take in the sights and sounds of the pre-game excitement. You were like a little kid on Christmas, even giddier than you were when you first saw the tickets on the day as your present, filling Javi’s heart to know his gift had brought you such genuine happiness.

Looking up at the scoreboard, you figured you had just enough time to go to the bathroom and grab the two of you a beer before the game started, shooting up out of your seat and giving Javi a quick kiss on the cheek as you scooted past him. “Where are you going?” Javi asked, looking at you with confusion as you made your way down the aisle.

“I gotta pee and I’m gonna go grab us drinks before the game starts.” You gestured up towards the stairs and then back at the game clock ticking down towards zero. You were equally as confused as Javi started to stand up too, looking like he was getting ready to follow you. “You need to pee, too?”

“No, I was uh- I was gonna go with you.” Stuck halfway between standing and sitting, Javi paused, trying to silently convey to you that he didn’t mind going, for his own sake to know that no one was going to try and bother you on your trip.

“Jav, I’m good, it’ll be like 5 minutes, don’t worry.” You nodded reassuringly, giving him a little shrug as you made your way up the steps to the entrance of your section.

“O-okay.” Javi half smiled back at you, watching the whole way you went up before you disappeared into the crowd, leaving him anxiously tapping his fingers against his jeans as he waited for you to return.

The one benefit of being a female hockey fan was that you seemed to come few and far between, making your trips to the bathroom at any game much shorter than the average women’s bathroom line, happily speeding in and out before making your way over to the concession stand. You stood in line, peeking your head over the other people waiting with you to try and see what your beer choices were on the menu above the cash registers, when you noticed familiar flashes of red and black jerseys a few lines over. Out of curiosity, you stood on your tiptoes, peering through the crowd to see who else had Blackhawks jerseys on all the way out in Dallas. Taking a few steps forward with your moving line, you were able to get a better look at the group of guys chatting amongst each other, only able to see the backs of their heads and the player’s jerseys they were wearing, until one of them turned around towards you making your gut sink and your heart stop.

There’s no fucking way.

You immediately turned around, hoping the group hadn’t seen you staring, visibly shaking your head to try and clear your thoughts. You quickly looked over once more, only able to see the backs of their heads again, making it easier to convince yourself you must have just been seeing things.

“Ma’am? Ma’am? Are you ready to order?” A woman called out from the cash register, trying to get your attention as you stood frozen in disbelief, staring at the ground.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. Sorry. Um, can I uh- I can I just get two Miller Lites, please?” You asked, pulling out your wallet and handing over a few bills and your ID, nervously bouncing your leg while you waited for her to return with your drinks, stuffing your change back into your pocket and grabbing your beers. You tried as best as you could to book it back to your seats, praying that if who you thought you had seen was really there, you had made it out fast enough that they hadn’t seen you.

You had made it back just in time, the lights in the arena now beginning to dim, the crowd roaring as the Blackhawks and the Stars skated out of the tunnel to greet the crowd and warm up before the game started. You had hoped that the darkness of the arena would be enough to hide your rattled expression from Javi as you snuck back to your seat, passing his beer off to him as you sat down with yours, taking a long swig before setting it down in your cup holder. While the lack of lights may have been enough to hide your face, it wasn’t enough to make up for your silence as you sat down next to Javi, now looking over at you with concern. “You okay, Osita?” He asked, reaching down to wrap his hand around your knee that you had been trying to keep from anxiously tapping since you got back to your seat.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah. I’m good. I just- um, I just thought I saw someone that I knew here but I don’t know how the hell it would be them or why they would be in Dallas, so it must have just been someone who looked like them. Sorry, it was just weird.” You shook your head again, trying to use any rational part of your brain to convince yourself of your words, and not let it ruin the rest of your night. “I’m good, I promise.” Leaning over the edge of your seat, you planted a soft kiss on Javi’s cheek, giving him a reassuring smile before letting out a big cheer as the announcer began shouting out the names of the Blackhawks starting lineup through the arena.

Thankfully, it didn’t take much for you to forget about your unsettling observation at the concession stand- the excitement and energy of the game quickly took over, cheering and screaming as the puck dropped and the first period began. The seats that Javi had picked out were incredible, giving you a close up on all of the action, including a few body checks pressed up against the glass right next to you as the two teams battled on the ice. You had always told Javi whenever you watched games on TV that you never expected him to care or be nowhere near as invested as you were, but knowing how important it was to you and how much you loved it, he had made an effort to try and learn as much as he could to keep up, leaning over to your seat every once in a while to ask you questions or try and point out something he noticed. It warmed your heart to see how much Javi wanted to show that he cared, and made you even more thrilled to see that he was just as into watching the game as you were, now yelling and clapping along with you opposite the crowd filled with Dallas Stars fans. Anything you did with Javi made you happy, simply because you got to be with him, but you really owed it to him for making this one of the best hockey games that you had been to in a very, very long time.

As the second period came to a close, the Blackhawks were up 2-1, the two of you so excited by the game that you hadn’t realized you both could go for another beer refill and another trip to the bathroom. You made your way up the stairs, Javi following close behind as you parted ways at the entrance to your section, agreeing that you would go get your drinks and meet him at the concession stand, since your trip to the bathroom was probably going to be much shorter than his. After a quick run through a nearly empty bathroom, you shot back over to the concession stand, standing back in the same line you were before, completely forgetting about your observation from your last trip.

Grabbing both of your beers, you leaned against a pillar next to the concession stand, waiting for Javi to come back from the bathroom, when you heard the faintly familiar voices nearby, your stomach starting to turn once again, looking out at the crowd to see if you could find where they were coming from. You peered your head the opposite direction of where you came, feeling a sense of relief with no black or red jerseys in sight, cautiously tiling your eyes back the other way, only to feel your heart sink to the pit of your stomach with the group of guys now standing in front of you. Your chest began to pound, squeezing your eyes shut, somehow hoping it would make you, or better yet, them disappear, but it was no use.

“I told you it was her! How’s it going, Ice Princess? Long time, no see! I can’t fucking believe this. Paul! Paul! Get over here, I told you it was her, you motherfucker!”

Letting out a deep breath, you reluctantly opened your eyes to see your ex-boyfriend Paul and his obnoxious group of friends standing in front of you, snickering and pointing like middle school boys in your general direction at your absolutely flabbergasted face. “You gotta be fucking kidding me…” You muttered under your breath, clenching your jaw and tightening your grip around your beers as the group approached you, pushing Paul front and center, as if you needed it to be any more obvious that his presence had been known.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You snapped, glaring at Paul’s tall and lanky figure, his short blonde hair spiked up in the same way you absolutely hated, cocky grin stretched across his face as he approached you.

“Damn, nice to see you too, Princess.” Paul laughed, his group of friends joining in and cackling behind, giving each other playful slaps.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” You growled, giving him a deathly glare, now anxiously bouncing your foot, wondering where Javi was and what was taking him so long. “You didn’t answer my question, asshole.”

“Calm down, Princess, Jesus. We’re here this weekend for an accounting conference downtown. Work paid for us to fly down today so we figured we’d catch the game since the Hawks were playing tonight. What the hell are you doing here?” Paul crossed his arms, giving you a condescendingly smug smirk, as if you were supposed to be happy to see him.

“I live here? Remember that thing where you were a complete dickwad and cheated behind my back for 2 years and told me my brother deserved to die so it became incredibly clear to me that there is no one else on the fucking face of this earth I would rather be with less than you? Or is that too much for your idiot brain to remember?” You were practically snarling at him at this point, nostrils flared and jaw clenched as the angry pit in your stomach grew heavier and heavier each second you looked at Paul. God, where the hell was Javi?

“Ouch…” One of the guys grimaced behind Paul’s back, the rest of them frowning in agreement, almost impressed by your brashness. “Told you this wasn’t gonna go over well, dude.” Another mumbled, giving Paul a little nudge.

“Shut the fuck up, Eric.” Paul retorted, rolling his eyes at his friend, trying to save the little dignity you had just spared him. “Okay, okay, point taken. I did some not so great shit, sorry. Don’t need to be such a brat about it.” Holding up his hands in defense, Paul shrugged, giving you the most unapologetic look you had ever seen. “Listen, one of the guys said he saw a hot chick in a Blackhawks jersey, it sparked my attention, turns out it was you. Figured I’d come say hi, let you know you still look real fuckin’ good. See if maybe you wanna go get a drink or something after the game and catch up?”

You were so heated and filled with rage locked in your sinister staring match with Paul that you hadn’t heard Javi come up behind you, making you flinch and spill some of the beer you had been holding as he quickly grabbed them out of your hands, setting them down on the ground before instinctively wrapping his arm around your waist. Even though you were still fuming, you felt a sense of relief wash over you to see that not only was Javi finally back, but that he had clearly also picked up on the fact that you did not look happy to see whoever had been talking to you.

“These guys bothering you?” Javi asked, digging his fingertips into your hip, shooting Paul a menacing glare. Before you could say anything to try and explain what the hell was happening, Paul was scoffing at you and Javi, giving you a disgusted look as he pointed at him.

“Who the fuck is this?”

“Who the fuck are you?” Javi snapped back, his tone becoming increasingly harsher with the way Paul had responded to his presence.

“A friend from Chicago-”

“A friend from Chicago?! Shut the fuck up, Paul.” You groaned, jaw dropping in shock that he had the audacity to try and play it off to Javi like he was an old acquaintance you were happy to run into. “This is my fiancé, asshole.”

“Fiancé? Yikes, talk about needing a fucking rebound, huh?” Paul laughed, his friends joining in behind him

“What’s that supposed to mean, motherfucker?” You growled, lunging toward Paul, Javi grabbing you by your waist to keep you from getting any further, pulling you back towards him. The sight of Javi having to physically restrain you from trying to go after him only made Paul laugh harder, shaking his head and letting out a deep, satisfied sigh before speaking again.

“God, you’re just as much as fucking mess as you were when we broke up, aren’t you? The boys always said I liked ‘em hot and crazy so guess we’re fuckin’ two for two, aren’t we, Princess? Good luck with this one, man. You got your fucking hands full.” Looking you up and down as you tugged against Javi’s grasp, trying to free yourself, Paul let out one last huff of amusement before beginning to turn around and walk away, only to be stopped by a large hand yanking at the back of his jersey, forcing him to back around to meet Javi’s broad body looming over his. While you were full of rage and on the verge of trying to punch Paul’s teeth in, Javi had let go of his grasp with a look like he was ready to kill as he stepped towards Paul, jaw clenched and fist drawn as his grip on Paul’s jersey shifted from his back to under his neck, the fabric balled tight in his hands as he pulled Paul towards him.

“Don’t you ever fucking talk about my future wife like that again or I’ll fucking kill you, you understand?” Javi threatened, his voice low and ominous as he drew Paul closer to his face, making sure he heard every word coming through the snarl of his gritted teeth.

Oh.

Javi knew you had no problem standing up for yourself. He knew you probably could have taken Paul down yourself if he’d let you go at him. But if there was one thing Javi knew for god damn sure, it was that he wasn’t above beating the shit out of anyone who threatened to even look at you the wrong way, let alone deliberately insult you. Just as well as he knew that, you also knew that Javi wasn’t the type to get in pissing matches with other guys just to assert his dominance.

But the way he had stormed after Paul with no hesitation, hoisting him up by the collar of his shirt and threatening him with the dangerous rumble looming in his voice had the pounding in your chest quickly fading from anger to arousal at the way Javi’s instincts had gone into overdrive to protect you- and that, that was something you were not expecting to make you as hot and bothered as it was.

“Jesus, okay man, okay!” Paul moaned, preemptively flinching and wincing his face as Javi leaned in towards him before letting him go and shoving him down, making him stumble as he tried to regain his balance. You would have thought that would have been plenty to get Paul to run off, tail tucked between his legs in embarrassment, but you had forgotten what a wonderfully delightful douchebag your ex was, always needing to get in the last word in any argument just to prove a point. “Fuckin’ have her man. Good fuckin’ riddance, bitch.”

And just like that, without a second thought, without even a hesitation, hearing Paul mumble that last sentence under his breath was enough to have Javi’s hand balled in a fist, immediately winding up to punch Paul square in the face, instantly knocking him to the cold, hard cement of the arena floor in a sobbing, whimpering heap.

Taking a step back to shake out his hand and admire the pitiful mess Paul had become, Javi let the slightest smirk slide across his face before immediately turning back to you, gently cupping your face, melting you with his sweet brown eyes filled with concern- A stark contrast from his stone cold demeanor only moments ago. “Are you okay, Hermosa?”

“Are you okay? Javi… holy shit.” Grabbing Javi’s hand from the side of your face, pulling it down to examine his red knuckles, you darted your eyes back and forth between him and Paul, still writhing on the ground, blood dripping down his nose. You couldn’t help but feel your eyes go wide, butterflies swirling in your stomach as a tiny grin curled between your lips looking down at what Javi had done to your ex. You had never seen Javi get aggressive like this, and despite everything you’d ever thought about not needing a man to come swoop in and save you, it was taking everything in you not to pounce on him right then and there by how turned on you were by the fact he had just easily decked Paul to the ground in your defense.

“Fuck you, motherfucker, I think you broke my nose!” Paul whimpered, wiping away blood with the back of his hand, trying to press himself back up to stand. “Security!”

“Don’t even bother. We’re leaving. Fuck you too, Paul.” You scoffed, grabbing Javi’s hand as you tugged him away, proudly flipping Paul off as you passed by, pushing your way through the small audience that had formed around you from your tussle, several people giving you and Javi silent nods of approval after watching what had happened. Once you had dragged Javi far enough away, he paused, stopping in his tracks, forcing you to turn back towards him.

“Osita. Baby, fuck, I’m so sorry. I don’t want us to have to leave because of me, we came all this way to watch the game and I, fuck- I don’t- I don’t know what got into me, but there was no way I was gonna fucking let him talk to you like that, I-”

“Javi. That was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. I don’t care if the Blackhawks win, I don’t care if they lose, I don’t care if we get blown out 75-0, if you don’t take me back to our hotel room and fuck me right now, I’m gonna lose my goddamn mind.” Taking a few steps back where Javi had froze, you placed your hands on his chest, grabbing two big fist fulls of his jersey before pressing up on your tiptoes to plant a hot, wet kiss on his lips, biting down on your lip and raising an eyebrow at him as you pulled back.

“Fuck, okay. Hermosa, are you sure?” Javi smirked, gently brushing away a stray piece of hair from your face, resting his hand around your jaw.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so sure of anything. Take me back to our room and fuck the shit out of me, Javier Peña.”

It was then Javi’s turn to drag you off through the arena, immediately grabbing your hand and working through the crowd, practically running back to your hotel, your limbs immediately intertangling the moment you found yourselves alone in the elevator. Your hands ran along each other’s bodies, your kisses frantic and desperate down the empty hallway to your room, Javi barely able to pull away for long enough to tug his room key out of his pocket. Your back was pressed against the door, trapped under Javi’s body towering over you as he finally was able to slide the card in the door, the pressure of your weight pushing against it forcing it open as it unlocked.

Your hands roamed needily as your mouths met with an electric intensity, stumbling towards the bed with faltering steps before your back hit the plush mattress, Javi leaning over you with hands planted on either side of your head, his kisses now trailing from your lips to your neck, sucking and nipping at your pulse point as his hands slid under your shirt, palming at your bra and digging his fingertips into your soft flesh. Your hands began to roam too, traveling from the tight grip they had around Javi’s jersey as you pulled him closer to you towards his jeans, reaching out to tug at the denim waistband before feeling Javi’s grip wrap around your wrist, pulling both hands above your head and pinning them to the mattress under the width of his broad grasp.

“Nuh uh, Hermosa.” Javi tutted, a devilish smirk growing across his face as his eyes darkened, squeezing your wrists in his hand, arms still raised over you. He dipped his head down, placing slow, tender kisses along your collarbone before working his way up your neck and jaw, catching the breaths of your moans in his mouth as his lips pressed against yours. “You’re gonna be a good girl and let me make you cum as many times as I want first, understand? This pussy’s all fucking mine.”

Oh fuck.

You could feel your stomach swirl with arousal from the growl in Javi’s voice, his words sending a shiver down your spine, eyes wide as you quietly nodded in agreement. Javi was a lot of things when the two of you fucked- tender, attentive, god, even when you wanted him to be rough with you, you could tell there was a part of him that always held back, because the thought of ever doing something that would come even close to hurting you was something he would never do. But the tone of his voice was something that you had never heard from him before- it was demanding, possessive, and holy fuck did it turn you on way more than you would have ever expected it to.

Barely getting out any coherent verbal response to coincide with your head shaking in compliance, Javi let go of your wrists, standing back up, his body hovering over yours at the edge of the bed. “Good girl. Take your clothes off, baby.” Javi rasped, taking a step back to watch as you sat up, quickly pulling off your jersey and crewneck underneath before working your way down to your jeans, shuffling them down your legs and kicking them off your feet, leaving you in your bra and underwear, frantically trying to shed them too before Javi stopped you again, tilting your chin up towards him as his thumb traced along your jawline. He looked you up and down, his smirk widening across his face at the cute matching bra and panty set you had worn, knowing it was one of his favorites and that he’d enjoy your little surprise. “You wear this for me, Hermosa?” Javi asked, his thumb now gently dragging down your bottom lip as he bit down on his own.

“Mhmmmm.” You grinned, giving him a little wink, scooting yourself closer towards the edge of the bed to try and grab at his jersey and pull him close enough to work your hands under and run them along his stomach, sneaking them down to unbutton his jeans. You had only outstretched your arms halfway before his hand was around your wrist again, shaking his head in a playful disapproval.

“So needy. What did I say, baby? Not until I say so, remember? Needy girls still have to be patient, don’t they?” Dropping your wrist, Javi turned around, taking a few steps back before bending down to unzip his suitcase by the end of the bed, shuffling around through his clothes before pulling out the blue and gold tie you had gotten him for his birthday and had worn to work earlier this morning. You cocked your head to the side as you watched him rummage through his clothes, your face still slightly confused when the only thing he pulled out was his tie, until your brain quickly put two and two together. “Maybe this will help you remember. Give me your hands.” Javi paused for a moment, his demeanor shifting back to the sweet and soft man you usually got in the bedroom, his puppy dog eyes staring at you for approval as he quietly mouthed “Is this okay?” to you as he ran his hand up and down the length of his tie. Fuck, did you love this man.

Your jaw hung open in delighted shock, his suggestion going straight to your pussy, your underwear already soaked from the thought of what he was about to do. Feverishly, you nodded, sticking out your hands, wrists pressed together in front of you for Javi, smirking up at him with heavy lashes.

“If it’s too much, or you want me to stop, just-”

“I know. Do your worst, Peña.”

With that, Javi’s sweet facade quickly shifted, taking the silky fabric of his tie and knotting it around your wrists, making sure to leave enough room to keep you comfortable as he wrapped his hands around your hips, picking you up to scoot you further back on the bed, caging his body over yours. He palmed at your bra, freeing your breast to roll your pebbled nipples between his fingers, the sensation making you writhe and moan beneath him, and he hadn’t even touched anything below your waist.

“So fucking pretty. Wearing this just for me, knowing I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, that no other man gets to have you like I have you.” His words were hot and heavy against your skin, making your breath hitch as his hand slid down your soft skin, snaking under the waistband of your underwear and running two fingers through your folds, dripping with your arousal. “Knowing that I’m the only one who makes you wet like this. Why is that, sweet girl? Whose pussy is this?” Javi mewled, dragging his fingers along your slit, collecting the slick pooling between your legs, watching you squirm under his touch.

“It’s yours Javi. Fuck- Fuck baby, it’s all yours.” You whined as Javi’s now soaked fingers snuck out of your panties, bringing them to your mouth.

“Suck.” He grinned, watching you open your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tangy taste lingering on his digits. “That’s right it is. All mine, forever.” Pulling his hand back, he replaced it with his mouth, crashing into you, his tongue swiping along your bottom lip with a passionate ferocity before sliding down your body, bringing himself face to face with the delicate lace covering your dripping heat. Hooking his fingers around the waistband, he slid your underwear down your legs, gently kissing around your thighs, already fighting against the silky fabric tied around your wrists, trying to reach down to tug the dark curls of his hair and pull him closer to you. His kisses traveled closer and closer to your core, his nose barely brushing your clit, making you moan.

“Javi… Baby, please.” You whined, wiggling your bottom half against the cool, crisp sheets, needing for Javi to touch you, taste you, do something besides tease you like this.

“Please what, Osita? Words, baby.” Javi smirked, slowly inching his way towards your center, wrapping his arms around your legs, gripping them in place.

“Touch me, eat me out, fuck me, anything, fuck- please, please, I-”

Before you could plead anymore, you gasped, feeling the broad stroke of Javi’s firm tongue pressing against your throbbing clit, finally easing some of the ache of how worked up you had been since the moment you had watched him knock Paul to the ground. Unlike just moments ago, Javi began lapping you up like a man starved, feverishly flicking his tongue along your sensitive bundle of nerves, the pattern of his movements making you buck your hips towards his face, fighting against his strong arms holding you in place.

Latching his lips, he sucked at your clit, the newfound sensation making the tingle at the base of your spine already begin to grow, the inside of your thighs covered with the shiny slick of your arousal and Javi’s saliva as he worked ferociously at your heat. Your whimpers and groans became more and more labored, an all too familiar creeping sensation sliding up your legs and building in your belly with each movement of his mouth. Your heart began to pound and vision started to blur, arms tugging at the tie placed around your wrists as you felt your orgasm form.

“Oh fuck, fuck Javi. Right there baby, holy shit- fuck, I’m so close, I- I- Wa- wait, wait, what?” Only moments away from feeling pleasure rush though your body, you were left breathless and shocked to feel Javi jerk his mouth away, looking up at you with lust filled eyes and a satisfied grin, opposed to your confusion. “Javi, what? Baby, I was about to-”

“You don’t cum until I say so. Be a good girl and ask nicely and maybe I’ll let you. Try again.” Javi replied, cocking his head and raising an eyebrow at you, smug smirk still stretched across his face.

You could almost hear the gulp traveling down your throat as your jaw hung open, your breathing heavy and low, watching Javi watch you, patiently waiting for you to follow his request. “Please let me cum, Javi. Please baby, please, I need you to make me cum so badly.”

“That’s more like it.”

Diving back between your legs, Javi drank you up, his tongue quickly accompanied by two of his thick fingers, easily pushing into your entrance and bumping the soft, spongy spot inside you. You could feel your pussy begin to flutter, already so close before Javi had left you on edge, now finding yourself even closer with his fingers curled deliciously in your hilt. Again, the coil in your belly began to tighten, Javi’s fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your thighs, holding you down on the bed.

“Fuck, Javi. Don’t stop. Please, baby, please- shit- please let me cum, I’m so close, I’m so clo-ahhhhhhh.” Relief and euphoria flooded through your veins as your orgasm crashed over you, expletives and Javi’s name rolling off your tongue as you reached your high. But instead of letting you come back down, Javi’s mouth stayed pressed against your cunt, his hand still thrusting in and out of your heat as you clenched around his fingers, now realizing he wasn’t about to ease up any time soon.

You could feel your legs trembling as Javi relentlessly licked and sucked, his fingers fucking into at an unforgiving pace, making your moans and whimpers even louder as squirmed, desprate to grab on to something while your hands fought against the buttery softness of his tie wrapped around your wrists. Already so worked up, it didn’t take you long to feel your second orgasm building, making you cum even harder than you had just moments ago, crying out as you gushed again around Javi’s fingers, the sweet sensation almost becoming too much with how feverishly he had been working to make you cum again. Finally, Javi detached his mouth, his chin and mustache glistening with your slick, a sly smile and lustful look in his eyes as his fingers stayed curled in your cunt, the lewd noises of your wetness coating the walls as he pushed against your g-spot. Your breath hitched, legs shaking as held you down with his free arm, draped across your stomach while you writhed under him.

“Baby, it’s so much, fuck- I don’t think I can cum again, please, I-”

“First you're begging me to let you cum, now you want me to stop? Don’t get to have it both ways, Osita.” Javi tutted, only intensifying the pace of his fingers curling inside you. “I’m making you cum as many times as I want, remember? You’re gonna give me one more on my fingers and then that pretty little pussy is gonna soak my cock while I fuck you, okay?” You were so worked up you could barely think straight, your clit still throbbing and cunt clenching around Javi’s hand, mind going blank as he hit the spot inside you that had you seeing stars. “Answer me, baby. Tell me what you’re gonna do?”

It took every ounce of brain power to try and find any way to respond, your head nodding frantically while you babbled. “I’m gonna cum again, please, please I will.”

“That’s my good girl. God, you’re so fucking tight. Give me one more baby, I know you can. I can feel how close you are.” With only the lightest press of his thumb on your clit, you could feel yourself on the edge again, only needing a few more thrusts of his fingers before you were crying out again, tears welling in your eyes from how hard you came, every inch of your body feeling spent as Javi finally pulled out his hand, absolutely drenched in your arousal, bringing it to his mouth and sucking the juices clean, pridefully watching you sprawled out and spent on the bed. “Tastes so fucking sweet. Did so good for me, Hermosa.” He mewled, coming up to kiss you, the tangy taste of your arousal still lingering on his lips. “Bet that fucking asshole Paul could ever make you cum like that, huh? No one else gets to make you feel this good, isn’t that right, baby?”

“Jesus Christ, no. No one’s ever made me feel like you do. You make me feel so good, Javi.” Javi’s mouth caught your moans in his as he pinned your tied arms above your head, nipping at your neck as he used his free hand to begin to work at his jeans, quickly unbuckling his belt and shuffling his pants and boxers down his legs.

“Bet none of them could ever fuck you like I do either. Only your future husband gets to have you like this.” Javi freed his other hand, reaching over his back to tug his jersey over his head, leaving him just as bare as you. Grabbing your hips, Javi lifted you up, turning you over so your stomach lay flat on the bed with your arms splayed in front of you, guiding your lower half so you were on your knees, ass up on display for him. His hands kneaded at the soft flesh before reaching down to guide the tip of his painfully hard cock through your folds, collecting your slick as he lined himself up with your entrance. “Only one who gets to see that pretty pussy dripping just for me.” He smirked, headfully pushing his length deep inside your cunt, his tip kissing your cervix as he bottomed out, digging his fingertips into your hips as he pulled you back towards him, the stretch and fullness making you whimper. “Only one who gets to fill you up like this.” Slowly pulling back, he watched the shine of your arousal covering his cock before slamming back into you, repeating his methodical strokes. “Only one who gets to fuck a baby into you.” He grinned, his pace now quickening, planting a smack of his hand against your ass cheek, massaging the red mark it had left. You whined into the pillow, very much loud enough for Javi to hear, knowing damn well he had a way with words that made you lose your mind. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Hermosa? Getting you pregnant, carrying our baby so everyone knows you’re fucking mine?”

“Yes, oh my god, fuck- yes.”

Javi was now pounding into you, his pace relentless as his length punched deep in your hilt, the angle he was fucking you letting you feel every inch of him splitting you open. Even with how full you felt, you couldn’t help but press your ass back into him, needing to feel all of him inside you. Reaching an arm underneath you, he thumbed at your clit, rubbing back and forth as his thrusts became more frantic and sloppy, knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer. You could feel your cunt beginning to clench around his cock, fisting at the bedsheets in front of you, desperate to grip at something while your hands were bound.

“I know you’re close, Hermosa. Let go, baby. Cum all over cock before I fuck myself so deep inside you and fill you full of me.” You could feel your heart begin to race again, your vision going white with each frantic thrust, the coil in your belly tightening further and further, the sounds falling from your mouth almost borderline pornagraphic. For the fourth time tonight, the tingling in your legs and stomach had built to a breaking point, feeling your orgasm crash through you like a tidal wave, cumming so hard it felt like your soul was leaving your body. Knowing you had reached your high, Javi found himself chasing his own, each thrust more frantic than the last, his thighs slapping against your ass relentlessly as his words fell incoherently from his lips.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Fuck, I’m close too. Mierda- God, you’re so fucking perfect. Tu eres mio para siempre. Mi amor, mi vida, fuck, te amo más de lo que las palabras pueden decir. (You’re mine forever. My love, my life, fuck, I love you more than words can say). Jesus, fuck- Oh fuck, Osita, fuck, I’m gonna cum too, I-” With a loud groan, Javi came deep inside you, spilling every last drop, coating your warm walls with his spend. Even after he had finished, Javi stayed buried in your cunt, watching the mix of your spend drip down your legs before slumping into you, his chest resting on your back as you melted into the mattress beneath him. The two of you laid there for a moment, your breaths rising and falling in sync, finally breaking the ragged silence with a little laugh to yourself, causing Javi to finally pull out so he could get a better look at you. “What’s so funny, Hermosa?” Javi chuckled, watching you roll over onto your back, revealing the blissed out grin stretched across your face.

“Javi… that was so fucking hot. Holy fuck. Where the hell did that come from?” You giggled, playfully poking at him as he laid down next to you, reaching over to untie your hands and pull you in to rest your head on his bare chest.

“It was okay? I don’t- I don’t know, I knew you told me Paul was a piece of shit, but seeing him treat you like that-It just set something off in me, I guess.” Javi sighed, almost reluctantly, gently stroking the ends of your hair as he held you, feeling a little embarrassed at how possessive he had gotten, knowing the perfectly capable and independent woman you were.

“Was it okay? Javi, I never want to see Paul again, ever in my fucking life. That being said, if I get to watch you sock him in the face and then have you fuck me like that…” Your voice trailed, sarcastically snickering, giving Javi a little nudge as the two of you laughed. “You’ve done a lot of very hot things since I’ve met you, Javier Peña, but I do think knocking Paul out without hesitation is pretty high on the list. I am a little sad I didn’t get a swing in, but we’ll call it good.”

“He fucking deserved it. No one gets to talk to you like that, ever. I know you don’t need me to protect you, and that you can handle things on your own, but I-”

“Baby, I know that you know. I appreciate you saying that. It doesn’t change the fact that watching you get all protective over me was really fucking hot.” You smirked, pressing you hand against his chest to push yourself up, meeting your lips with his, running your hands through the dark curls at the nape of his neck. “And also…” Your grin grew wider as you reached down on the bed, picking up Javi’s tie, gently swinging it in your hands, “looks like we’re gonna have to get you some more ties, huh?”

The two of you woke up the next morning, bodies intertwined together between the crisp hotel sheets, soft sunlight spilling into your window over the Dallas skyline. From the first night he had slept in your bed, you had come to learn there were few things in this world that you loved more than being wrapped in Javi’s arms, your sleepy bodies still warm and lazy as you curled closer between the sheets, feeling like there was no one else in that moment that existed besides the two of you.

While you and Javi had plenty of lazy mornings together, something about being away for the weekend had both of you relishing in the syrupy slowness of your Saturday morning- sweet and soft sex tangled between your sheets, a long, hot shower where Javi insisted on letting you relax while he washed your hair, followed by curling up in the obnoxiously fluffy hotel robes while the two of you dried off, watching Sports Center and planning out the rest of your day.

You had decided to spend your afternoon exploring downtown, starting off at a sandwich shop near your hotel, and while both of you agreed that your sandwiches were good, they were no Alejandro’s. You spent some time after at the Dallas Museum of Art, with equal time spent with you making sarcastic commentary about some of the more interesting paintings and sculptures, trying your best to make Javi laugh, and Javi admiring you admire the various pieces of art, thinking to himself that you were more beautiful than any picture or statue he could find inside.

After your tour through the museum, you and Javi meandered through some of the stores downtown, both of your favorites being the pastry shop with the most delicious cupcakes you had ever tasted in your entire life, and although you insisted you didn’t need to get any extras, Javi knew you well enough to know that you were going to want one later, and ordered two more to take back with you to the hotel.

Since last night’s dinner had been more causal to try and make sure you got to the game on time, you had agreed to pick somewhere nicer to try for dinner tonight and then go out to a bar or two after for some drinks. While you were already enough of a chronic overpacker, trying to decide on an outfit for tonight had taken up the majority of the real estate in your suitcase, your options now spread out across the bed as you stood wrapped in your towel post-shower, contemplating what to wear.

“You’ll look beautiful in anything, Hermosa.” Javi chuckled, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist, back pressed his chest as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“You’re sweet, Jav. I don’t know, I don’t wanna be too casual, but I don’t want to be too dressy either, can you just pick for me?” You sighed, gesturing to the variety of clothes piled on the mattress.

“You sure you want me to pick?” Javi grinned, placing a soft kiss on the bare skin of your shoulder, giving you a little squeeze.

“Yes, I’m sure, but I’m already 99.9% sure I know which one you’re gonna choose.” You giggled, crossing your arms over your chest as Javi made his way towards the bed, looking through his choices before he picked up a strappy, mid length black dress, raising an eyebrow at you and passing it off in your direction with a boyish smirk on his face. “Vegas wins again, Peña.” Outstretching your arm, you took the dress from his hands, playfully rolling your eyes at your correct prediction.

“What, like you can blame me? You can pick out what I wear too, if you want. I’m gonna hop in the shower while you get ready and I’ll be out in a few.” Javi smiled, peppering ticklish kisses along your neck and collarbone, making you squeal and squirm to not even notice Javi’s hand reaching up to tug at your towel, making it drop to the floor and leaving you naked.

“JAVI!” You shouted, watching Javi shrug his shoulders in satisfaction, giving you a wink as he headed into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. You shook your head, laughing to yourself as you threw the dress back on the bed, collecting your rejected outfits and tossing them back in your suitcase. You looked back over your shoulder, making sure the door was closed before pulling out the lingerie Javi had gotten you for Christmas that had been hidden underneath the rest of your clothes, quickly slipping it on to wear under your dress to surprise Javi with later. You shuffled on the dress that Javi had picked, giving yourself a onceover in the mirror before getting out the rest of your toiletries and makeup to finish getting ready.

You had finished with your makeup by the time Javi had gotten out of the shower, finding yourself in the middle of curling your hair as Javi stepped out of the bathroom, wrapping a white, fluffy towel around his waist, stopping in his tracks as soon as he saw you. “Fuck me…” He whispered under his breath, still just loud enough for you to hear him and turn your head in his direction, blushing over the awestruck look on his face. “Jesus Christ, baby. Fuck, you’re so hot. I’m a lucky fucking man, god damn.” Javi smirked, sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you like a puppy with his chin resting in his hand.

“Well, someone did a good job picking out the outfit.” You giggled, biting down on your lip at his reflection in the mirror. “I picked out some stuff if you want to wear any of it.” You nodded over to the other side of the bed, where you had set out a dark wash pair of jeans and a black long sleeved button up shirt.

“Or…” Javi grinned, pushing himself off the edge of the bed to stand, grabbing a handful of your ass and resting his hands on your hips, “You can take your dress off and then we can both put clothes back on later.”

“Your offer is very tempting, but you made reservations for 7:30 and it’s 7:05, mister.” You sighed, turning around to face him, playfully poking his chest. “Believe me, there will be plenty of undressing when we get back. Now go get changed, ya goof.”

Somehow, the two of you both managed to have enough willpower to make it to your dinner reservation on time, you finding yourself to be just as bad as Javi after watching him put on the outfit you’d chosen. While the two of you knew the restaurant was much nicer than the one you had picked yesterday for dinner, you didn’t realize it was going to be this nice. Not that Laredo didn't have suitable restaurants, but to say they had anything fancy was a bit of a stretch, and to say they had anything this fancy would have been an outright lie. The restaurant was dimly lit, decorated with contemporary fixtures, soft music playing in the background, the waitstaff even dressed to the nines as you approached the hostess at the front booth.

“Hi, we should have a reservation for 2 at 7:30. Should be under Peña.” Javi smiled resting his hand on the small of your back under your jacket as the two watched the girl flip through her notebook looking for Javi’s name.

“Perfect, I have you right here. Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Peña.” She grinned, grabbing two menus and leading you through the restaurant. The grip of Javi’s hand on your back as you followed the hostess to your seats only tightened, hearing her accidental slip up. “Alright, we have you two sitting right here, and your waiter will be with you shortly!” Gesturing over to your table, your hostess set down the menus and was on her way, leaving Javi to immediately pull out your chair for you before setting into his.

“Thanks, Mr. Peña.” You giggled, gently tapping his leg with your foot under the table. “We’re two for two this weekend with strangers assuming we’re married. Not that I’m mad about it.”

“I feel like we are. I don’t know, I think of you as my wife already, I guess. I accidentally called you my wife at work the other week and the guys thought we got married without everyone knowing.” Javi shrugged, reaching across the table to grab your hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the ring on your hand.

“We’ll call that one a happy accident. I think of you as my husband too, I don’t know, it kind of feels like we’re married, I guess it’s just a formality at this point. Only 4 more months.” You beamed, giving his hand a little squeeze before letting go to lift up the menu in front of you, your jaw dropping in shock as you read through the options. “Okay, I knew this place was gonna be nice, but 45 dollars for salmon? 60 for steak? Are they covered in gold dust and unicorn tears? I am many things, Javier Peña, but I am not worth a 60 dollar steak, let me tell you that.” You grimaced, now looking through the drink section, mumbling to yourself. “God, do they even have beer here?” Javi laughed, shaking his head as he picked up his own menu, browsing through his options.

“Shut up, you dork. You’re more than worth a 60 dollar steak. Don’t worry about it, okay? You deserve to be taken to nice places like this, whether you agree with me or not. But my guess is no, that they are probably not serving Miller Lite here.”

Despite your sticker shock for food prices, you and Javi had a great rest of your dinner, chatting about wedding and house planning, favorite things about your trip so far, and somehow ending in an argument about the best Star Wars movie after the two of you had a few drinks each in you. Knowing you wanted to go out to a bar or two after dinner, but having no idea where to go, you asked the waitress for her suggestions at favorite places, recommending a bar a block down the street, telling you it was one of the most popular places downtown at the moment. Given her rave review, you and Javi decided to give it a try, tipsily making your way down the street, still continuing your Star Wars argument the entire trip there.

As you entered the bar, you were greeted with the overwhelming sound of loud, upbeat music blasting through the speakers on the dance floor and bright, flashing lights dancing above the crowd in the dark and packed room. “I guess she wasn’t kidding when she said this place was popular.” You half yelled in Javi’s ear, gesturing out to the crowd in front of you, neither of you realizing the atmosphere of the bar was a bit more club-like than either of you had expected. “I don’t think I’ve been to a place like this since college.”

Javi’s grip tightened around your waist as several patrons brushed past you, drunkenly shouting along to the song playing over your voices. “We can go somewhere else if you want to, we don’t have to stay here, Hermosa.”

“I don’t know, it looks like it could be fun. Looks like there’s a lot of people dancing,” you smirked, pointing over to the dance floor, “you really gonna pass up a chance to grind on me in public, Jav? I sure hope that answer isn’t no.” Taking a step back, you subtly pressed your ass into Javi’s crotch, making him let out a quiet groan before pulling away, turning around to face toward him and give him a little shrug.

“Fuck me…” Javi muttered under his breath, an equally intrigued smirk spreading across his face as he looked down at you. “No way in hell I’m gonna say no to that, Hermosa.”

“Then get a girl a drink and take me dancing, Peña.” Grabbing Javi’s hand, you tugged him towards the bar, following eagerly behind you through the crowd. Javi ordered both your drinks from one of the bartenders- a woman who seemed to spend a little to long for your liking touching Javi’s arm to get his attention when his whiskey and your gin and tonic were ready, flashing him a cute smile as Javi handed over the cash from his wallet to pay for your drinks. If you were any taller and able to see over the heads of the people standing in front of you at the bar, you really hoped she would have seen the scowl drawn across your face as you watched her try to flirt with Javi. Javi, seemingly oblivious to the interaction, handed your drink off to you as the two of you made your way to an empty booth on the side of the dance floor, taking a hefty sip before looking back up at Javi. “She seemed nice.” You grimaced, nodding back over towards the bar. Javi laughed, taking a sip of his own drink before setting it down on the table, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Is someone jealous?”

“No… She was just giving you the eyes, and held your arm way longer than I’m sure the average bartender does. I mean, she’s got good taste…” You grumbled, trying your best not to glare back over at the bar. Downing the rest of his drink in a large gulp, he slid his empty drink to the side, reaching out to grab your hand, squeezing it in his. He bit down on his lip, a lustful look pooling in his eyes as he watched you take another sip.

“Why don’t you finish your drink and we’ll go give her something to be jealous of, hm?”

Your eyes went wide at his response, slurping down the rest of your gin and tonic way faster than you probably should have before setting your empty cup next to his, walking around to the opposite side of the booth where Javi sat, grabbing two fist fulls of his shirt while you pulled him in for a long, tender kiss. “I like the sound of that.”

Intertwining hands, you worked your way out to the dance floor, tangled between humid, hot bodies and the thumping of the bass to whatever upbeat pop song was blasting in the background in time with the flashing colorful lights beaming across the crowd. From the moment you found yourself deep enough in the mix of people, Javi’s hands were instantly all over you, working their way down your sides and landing on your hips, digging his fingertips into the fabric of your dress to turn you around so your ass was pressed against his jeans, grinding into the denim. At this point, the both of you had enough alcohol in your systems to not be concerned about anyone else around you, your hips rocking to the rhythm of the music, pressing your ass further into Javi’s crotch with each sway, only forcing his grip to tighten, feeling his bulge beginning to grow in his pants. Playing into the sensation building between both of you, you brought one of your arms up, reaching up to grab the hair at the nape of Javi’s neck, his curls feeling more defined from the sweat radiating off the dance floor. You could feel his head buried in your shoulder, feeling his hot breath against the sheen of your skin.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking sexy, Osita. Feel what you do to me, baby? Bet if I reached down and felt that pretty little pussy she’d be dripping for me, too.” Javi rasped, letting his hands slide down your hips towards the front of your thighs. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you that had lowered your inhibitions so much- maybe it was the one too many gin and tonics, maybe it was the heat of the crowd moving to the music, maybe it was feeling how hard Javi was pressed against your ass just from dancing. Whatever it was, it was enough to have you turning around, throwing your arms around Javi’s shoulders, pressing up on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear.

“Touch me and find out.”

Your preposition had Javi’s jaw practically dropping to the floor, taking a moment to compose himself before looking back down at you to make sure he hadn’t misheard what you had said, but the lustful grin between your cheeks was all he needed to know he had heard you loud and clear. With one hand on your ass, the other snaked between your bodies, tugging up the hem of your dress, his palm gliding across the soft skin of your inner thighs before cupping your pussy, wetness pooling in the lacy fabric of your underwear, making his eyes grow even wider, not only from how wet you were, but from the feeling of his fingers grazing over your panties, knowing the texture meant you were wearing something out of the usual rotation, something you’d worn on purpose to get his attention.

“Fucking soaked, sweet girl. Gonna let me take you back to our room and let me ruin those pretty panties even more? What’re you wearing under there, baby?”

“Why don’t you take me back and see.”

Yesterday, you were convinced you couldn’t have walked any faster back to your hotel room after the hockey game, but the pace at which you and Javi were speeding down the sidewalk had you questioning if your speed could even qualify as walking, not sprinting. Unlike your luck yesterday, you shared your elevator ride back up to your room with 2 other strangers, making the tension of your trip up to your floor almost palpable as you used every ounce of restraint from pouncing on Javi right there in the elevator.

As soon as the door sprung open and no one was behind you, the two of you crashed down the hallway, once again fumbling with to find your room key, the added element of your tipsiness only making it more difficult. One way or another, your door unlocked, your bodies dancing in a tangled mess towards the bed, pausing for a moment as Javi’s open suitcase caught your attention out of the corner of your eye. Your brain spun for a moment, reeling with the memories of last night, a looming question now racing in your mind as you spotted Javi’s blue and gold tie peeking out of his bag.

Would Javi let you tie him up?

“You okay, Hermosa?” Javi asked, cocking his head in confusion as he watched you stare at his suitcase. You could see the wheels in his head turning, a lightbulb going off after a few moments, grabbing your chin and tilting it up towards him. “You want me to tie you up again, sweet girl?” He smirked, his voice low and gruff as he gripped around your jaw. Gently, you began shaking your head, Javi’s face immediately dropping in confusion, letting go of his grasp.

“What if I told you…” You paused, grabbing his shirt and walking towards the bed, “I wanted to tell you what to do. See if you can be a good boy for me or maybe I’ll have to tie you up, too.” Giving Javi a little nudge, you pushed him to sit down on the bed, leaving you standing in front of him, rubbing your hands up and down the denim covering his thighs, watching your words go straight to his cock as his bulge strained against the zipper of his jeans, and a breathy moan escaped out of his mouth. Javi’s eyes went wide, jaw agape as his tongue darted out between his lips as you threw your leg over his lap, straddling his hips.

“Is that okay?” You whispered, nipping at his ear, making him let out a low groan. He nodded softly in silent reassurance, almost too stunned to speak, slowly working his hands up your ass and thighs, trying to push up the hem of your dress. Grabbing his wrists, you stopped him in his tracks, pulling back slightly with a playfully scolding look on your face. “Nuh uh. I didn’t get to touch last time, you don’t get to touch me until I say.”

“Fuck me…” Javi whispered under his breath, carefully drawing his hands back to rest on the edge of the bed, his eyes desperately filling with need and want. Reaching down, you tugged your dress over your head, revealing the cute, red and lacy lingerie set Javi had gotten you for Christmas. As if Javi’s jaw couldn’t have dropped any further, it was now practically through the floor, finding himself absolutely gawking at you in admiration. “Holy fuck.” Javi gulped, trying his best to keep any ounce of composure he still had. He couldn’t help but spring his hands towards you, running them up and down your sides and over the delicate fabric, left with utter shock and disappointment as you swung off his lap, standing at the edge of the bed with your arms crossed over your chest.

“What did I just say, baby? Only good boys get to touch, remember?” A devilish smirk spread across your lips watching how flustered Javi had already become, biting down on his finger to try and relieve some of the tension of not being able to touch you.

“I’ll be good, baby. I promise.” He groaned helplessly, staring up at you with pleading eyes.

“I don’t know, Javi, seems like you’re having a hard time with pretty simple instructions.” You tutted, very purposefully bending down with your ass in his face to pick up the tie dangling from his suitcase. “Guess we’ll try one more time to see if you remember, but if you can’t, maybe this will help.”

“You’re gonna fucking kill me, you know that?” Javi rasped, shaking his head, running his hand over his face.

“You’re a big boy, you’ll be okay.” You winked, tossing his tie next to him before going back to straddling his lap, running your hands up and down his chest, slowly working your way down his shirt, one button at a time, planting a hot kiss on his skin with each new button that came undone. “Promise you’re gonna be good?” You smirked, tugging the shirt off his arms and letting it fall on the bed.

“Promise.” He sighed, voice trembling, feeling the muscles in his body tense with your question.

“Good.” You began grinding your hips in his, circling slowly over his painfully hard bulge, digging deeper and deeper with each sway of your hips. You slid your hands up his chest, into his hair, gently tugging at his dark curls as you rocked against him. You could tell how hard Javi was trying to control himself, breathing heavily and clenching his jaw as he watched you, the moans escaping from his mouth only becoming louder as you turned around, back pressed to his chest, sitting in his lap. You continued grinding your ass into Javi’s crotch, gently tugging at the straps of your bra and letting them fall from your shoulders, teasing him even further. Slipping your hands behind your back, you unclasped the hooks holding your top together, letting it drop to the floor in front of you, leaving Javi still only able to see your bare back knowing how crazy it would drive him that he couldn’t even see what he was missing, let alone touch. Still facing away, you bent down, sticking your ass towards his face, slowly shimmying the lacy red thong down your legs and letting it pool around your ankles. That was what broke him, his fingers digging into the plump skin making you shoot up and turn back around towards him.

Reaching next to him on the bed, you picked up his tie in one hand, grabbing his wrists with the other, and gently began wrapping the buttery fabric around him. “So much for that, huh? Naughty boys have to learn to follow the rules, don’t they, baby?” You playfully pouted, batting your eyes at him. Good thing I can help teach you, hmmm?” With his hands sufficiently tied, you took your finger, poking his chest and pushing him over, gesturing for him to shuffle further up on to the bed, now laying flat on his back with his hands above his head.

“Osita, please, baby, fuck- please.” Javi whined, his voice ragged and wanting as his brown eyes met with yours, watching you crawl up over him, your hands now working at his belt buckle. The metal clinked as you pushed his jeans down his hips before ever so gently tugging at the waistband of his boxers, already tented from his stiffness.

“Please, what, sweet boy?” You cooed, pulling just enough to let his cock spring free, revealing how painfully hard he was, his tip dark red and leaking with precum that had stained his boxers. “God, you’ve got the most beautiful dick I’ve ever seen.” You mewled, barely grazing your fingertips over his bare thighs, making him shutter.

“Osita, please. Please, baby. I need you to touch me, please.” Javi whimpered as you settled yourself on top of his legs, your hands now creeping towards his shaft.

“That’s better. So handsome when you beg. Need me to take care of you? I’ll take care of you, baby.” You wrapped your hand around his cock, thumbing at the precum dripping out of his tip and rubbing it around his head before taking the same hand and running it through your folds, collecting the slick that had been rapidly pooling between your legs and using the mixture to stroke him.

With a few pumps of your hand, you leaned over, letting the spit from your mouth drip down over his dick before bending your head down and letting your tongue graze his head. Your lips sucked around his tip, lazily working your way down his length, taking him inch by inch as you hollowed out your cheeks, nestling your nose in the curls of his hairs at his base, the musky scent of him filling your nose. You began bobbing your head, your mouth engulfing him with each rise and fall, looking up at him through heavy lashes, your eyes almost as wide as his as you watched him crumble under your touch.

“Fuck, oh shit- Oh my god. Fuck, that feels so good baby, Jesus- fuck me.” Javi squeezed his eyes shut, his ramblings becoming more ragged and desperate with each word, almost embarrassed at how quickly he found himself feeling like he was going to fall apart. You could feel his cock beginning to pulse in the warmth of your mouth, only making you pick up your pace, feeling the saliva drool down the corners of your cheeks and tears welling in the corners of your eyes. “Fuck, baby, fuck, fuck- I’m close, I’m clo- wa- wait, fuck. Fuck, baby, no. Please.” Javi whined, his head popping up to look at you, your mouth hovering above his dick with a smirk on your face.

“What?” You teased, gently massaging his sack in your hands, almost able to see the veins in his cock throbbing as you had left him on edge, unable to finish. “You only said you needed me to touch you. Never said anything about needing me to make you cum.”

“Jesus Christ…” Javi groaned, resting his head back on the pillows behind him, staring up at the ceiling as he tried to catch his breath. Letting out another gulp and deep breath, he raised his head again, his big, brown eyes pleading with you with a ferocious need and longing. “Please, Osita. Please, make me cum. Please, I need you to.”

“That’s more like it. Such a good boy, asking so nicely. I’ll let you cum, baby. But only if it’s inside me and you fill me up so good you’re dripping down my thighs.” You shuffled your body forward, letting your soaking heat graze over his cock, reaching down to line him up with your entrance.

“I will. Please let me, I will. I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you you’ll be dripping out of me for days. Fuck, I wanna cum so deep in you, please, Osita. Please, baby.” Javi moaned, struggling against the silk tie wrapped around his wrists, giving anything to feel the soft skin of your body in his hands.

“So needy, sweet boy.” You tutted, the both of you gasping as you sunk down on Javi’s length, his cock bumping against your cervix as you took every inch of him inside you, taking a moment to adjust to the sweet sting of his fullness. “Fuck, you feel so good, Javi. I love feeling you inside me. No one else fills me up like you do. You like knowing you’re the only one who can make me feel like this? The only one I want to fuck me? Marry me? Fuck as many babies as you want into me?”

The groan Javi let out was low and deep, feeling your hands rest against his chest as your hips rolled back and forth, burying Javi’s cock deep inside the warm, wet walls of your cunt. “Fuck yes, oh fuck Osita. Shit- I can’t wait to marry you. I wanna be your husband. I wanna fuck a baby into you so badly, see you all beautiful and pregnant. I can’t wait to cum inside you knowing I could really knock you up. Fuck meeee.” Javi whimpered, bucking his hips up into you, his thrusts filling you in a way that had you absolutely reeling and breathless, your demeanor quickly beginning to crumble, becoming just as dire as him.

The hairs at the base of Javi’s cock rubbed deliciously on your clit, the sensation of that, combined with how frantically you were rocking your hips back and forth had your heart racing, so worked up from trying to keep your cool that you could feel the tingle building at the base of your spine rapidly. You could tell Javi was close, too- The gritting of his teeth, the wild and wanting look in his sweet brown eyes, the sloppy pace of his dick pounding into you, all the tells you knew far too well to realize he was quickly about to come undone. The arousal pooling in your belly continued to build, the lewd noises of your wetness and mixed moans coating the walls of your hotel room as your fingers dug into the skin of Javi’s chest.

“Fuck, fuck- I love you, Javi. Holy shit- I’m so close. I need you to fill me up, baby.”

“I love you too, Hermosa. I’m not gonna last much longer either, so fucking wet and tight, oh my god- I’m gonna fill you up so good, baby. I promise, promise I’ll be a good boy and fuck every last drop in you.”

In all the times you had fucked, you had never seen Javi turn into such a mess, watching him whimper and beg to with such desperation and neediness, barely hanging on by a thread from the moment you had walked through the doors of your hotel room, and god, it was the hottest thing you’d ever seen. You thought that you’d be strong enough to keep your composure, that while Javi fell apart, you would keep it together, but any prospects of that were long gone by now.

The coil building in your belly snapped, screaming Javi’s name over and over again as your cunt clenched around his cock, feeling your orgasm flood your body with pleasure. You braced your hands on Javi’s chest as he quickly followed behind you, thrusting a few more times up into you before letting out a low, ragged groan as he spilled deep inside you, his warm spend coating your walls, making sure to milk himself of every last drop, as promised. You could feel the mixture of the both of you leaking down your legs into Javi’s lap as you sat on top of him, his dick still pulsing as your chests heaved in sync, squeezing your eyes tightly to try and bring yourself back to earth. With a few more deep breaths, you unstraddled Javi, the loss of him inside you making the both of you hiss, crawling up the bed to untie his hands and lay your head on him as he wrapped his newly freed arms around you.

“Holy fuck…” Javi muttered under his breath, half laughing to himself as he ran his hand over his face before bringing it back down to stroke circles along the bare skin of your back.

“Was that okay?” You questioned, almost timidly, looking up at his blissed out face.

“Osita… Jesus Christ, that was fucking incredible. You’re sexy when you’re bossy.” He teased, tickling your ribs, making you squeal and squirm under his touch, peppering you with soft kisses while you swatted at him to make him stop.

“Oh shut up, you dork.” You sighed, rolling your eyes at him, laying your head back down on his chest after finally getting him to torture you with his tickles.

“I’m being serious, Hermosa. You know I think your confidence is so fucking sexy. You can boss me around any time.”

“Any time?” You perked up, mischievous look glistening in your eyes. “So… if I told you to go get me that cupcake from earlier and bring it to me, you’d do it?”

“I thought you said you didn’t need another one, bossy pants.” Javi smirked, staring back at you in complete and utter adoration.

“Well, Javier Jesús Peña, turns out you know me better than I know myself. Sooooo… cupcake? Please?” You playfully pouted, batting your lashes at him.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” He laughed, pressing a soft kiss into your messy hair before letting out a sigh as he pushed himself out of the bed, nakedly wandering over to the shelf by your door where he had stashed the cupcakes earlier, bringing them over and climbing back into bed with you.

“Thank you, you’re the best.” You giggled, giving him a little nudge as you took a big bite of the cupcake, letting out a content sigh. “On another positive note, I definitely think that we’ve given this hotel room a run for its money before we break in our one on the honeymoon in a few months.”

“Well…” Javi grinned, gently kissing at your neck, up along your jawline, rubbing his hand up your thigh and circling his fingertips at the soft flesh, “A little extra practice never hurt anyone.”

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @dappydelta @blackfemalenerd

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potatomountain · 7 months

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CIY- 8

Chapter Eight

📍pairing: detective ateez ot8 x detective afab reader

📍word count: 3.3k

📍network: @pirateeznet

📍Warnings: mentions of mxm relationships.

📍Beta readers (and sole motivation): @flurrys-creativity , @candypop1611 , @yourfatherlucifer, @yessa-vie and @daesukiii

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Before you knew it, a week had flown by and a routine was formed. Mornings were spent going to your deli and getting your coffee, where you started picking up San's as well. You weren't sure if you should grab it today since he informed you on Thursday that he had to go undercover for the weekend.

You hadn't seen Yunho or Mingi until Friday, which you expected when you heard Mingi the night before loud and clear. Of course, you bitched at him when you saw him, surprised by how easy the banter that followed and the insults. The same thing happened Saturday and even last night you had heard him. It was getting annoying, even if you had ways to block out most of the sound, you didn't like how it made you feel.

San didn't make it any easier, casually flirting with you, laying on the charm and compliments whenever he could just to leave you flustered but he was respectful about his timing. All week until he had left, leaving you frustrated in a whole new way with his absence. The fact you missed him during the weekend left a bad taste in your mouth, you didn't want to get attached. This position was temporary at best, the unlikelihood of it being permanent better than at first but still slim.

Two weeks didn't make you part of the team after all. Even if you had a growing routine and the reception was less icy, you knew that.

Getting your hopes up was a bad idea, yet here you were, standing in line at the deli for the coffee and breakfast you got almost every morning. You debated on getting San's coffee, since he said he should be there today. Would he be beaten up like last time? The bruises and cuts had barely healed before he went off and you had to admit you were a little worried.

That might be because of your old unit. Hyunjin would complain if he had a cut on his pretty face and Jisung couldn't handle a cold. Neither could Binnie, with both Felix and Minho mothering whenever anyone was injured or feeling sick. Then there was Chan-

Sighing, you shook your head, not ready to go down that road just yet. Today was the last day of your probation and you still weren't ready to talk to him or half of them- Hyunjin had been the exception because, well, he was Hyunjin. And he didn't give you the option to be ready, he insisted on being a part of your life as if nothing had happened: which you truthfully appreciated.

“Why’s such a pretty thing like you sighing? The week just started.” A voice behind you garnered your attention, so you turned to look. A pretty attractive man widened his smile, which surprised you wasn’t sleazy in the least; despite his outfit screaming a typical sleazy man. The animal print button-up, sunglasses pushing his dual-toned hair back, and the hint of a tongue stud as he licked his lips- normally it would have you sneering but on him it looked damned good. Maybe it was the eyeliner?

Either way, he was hot, and he called you pretty. “Mm no particular reason, maybe I’m just not feeling up to work today?” You offered a smile, deciding to take it a step further. “Definitely don’t want to now, not when my day just got more interesting.”

You were glad that his charming smile turned more flirty, even more so when he stepped up next to you. “I’d have to agree, not really in a hurry for my coffee now. You are much more refreshing, pretty girl.”

“Already onto pet names? Before I get your name?” You couldn’t help but tease.

He chuckled, holding out his hand. “Friends call me Mito. Nice to meet you-” Once you gave your name, he hummed thoughtfully. “Pretty name for a pretty girl. Gotta say I think I’d remember seeing such a beauty around here. New job brings you this way?”

You didn’t regret your words when he was looking at you like that, as if you were the best damned meal he ever saw and he couldn’t wait to get a taste. Hell, you were ready to let him have it. Maybe it was because he was the first in a while that had flirted with you? That was a lie, there were plenty. You just had your eyes set on someone else before… now just about anyone was up for grabs.

You nodded slowly. “Yeah, I recently moved to the area too. Do you come here often? To this cafe?”

“A friend of mine told me to check it out, I usually go to another one about a block away.” He hummed out, stepping with you as the line moved. “But if you’re here, that’s plenty of reason to make this a regular stop.”

“Or you could just ask for my number?” The words were out before you could even stop yourself, fighting off the heat that flooded your cheeks. Were you that touch-starved that you would be so bold with a man you just met? Who didn’t even give you his real name, just a nickname?

Did that make you easy? Should you be ashamed? Maybe, but it really had been so damned long and it wasn’t like you were going to pull your clothes off for him right now.

“Then how about your number first? And I buy your coffee?” He finally offered once he pulled his eyes back to yours.

No harm in at least seeing where this goes right? “I’ll put my number in for you.” Holding out your hand, you couldn’t help but be a little giddy when he handed you his phone, contacts already open. Few seconds later and you sent yourself a text from his, handing it back just in time for the both of you to step up to the counter to order.

He rattled off four different drinks, while you rattled off two- one of them the same as one of his. You thought it was interesting, San having a common order. “Drinks for friends?”

“Co-workers. What about your extra?” Mito countered, a cheeky grin on his lips as the two of you stepped aside to wait.

“Co-worker.” One that definitely got to you in a way a co-worker shouldn’t… you could blame your sudden boldness on him. Yeah, this was all their fault. San with all his flirting and teasing and Mingi with his constant annoyance and sex sounds the past few nights.

You tried not to show how heated that train of thought made you, nor did you want to admit it any further than that.

“Mm well they’re lucky to get a coffee on me.” He winked, not at all bothered to have bought it.

“I’ll let him know the hottie at the coffee shop hopes he enjoys his coffee.” Laughing, you relaxed against the counter next to him, the two of you sharing a flirty glance. “I also appreciate it, it definitely makes my day better.”

He shrugged. “My absolute pleasure dear, I can always make your day better in other ways too. Help you relax at the end of a long day of work.”

Now that sounded really tempting. Before you could further flirt, your drinks were announced. “Well, that’s our cue, I really needed to get to work anyways.” You didn’t think they would care, but if San was there you did want to get him his coffee and check up on him. “Call me?”

You wanted to tell someone about the hottie at the cafe… was it too soon to text Hyunjin about it? Would San listen? You grimaced at that idea. Sure, tell one man you wanted to bone about a complete stranger that was much more likely to get into your pants and fast.

“Oh definitely. Good luck, beautiful.” He sent a wink in your direction before he turned to start grabbing a few of the good sugars and things. You didn’t stick around to see what he did with them.

It wasn’t until you were halfway down the street that you realized you had forgotten your usual breakfast; instead of turning around to go grab it, maybe giving you a chance to see him again, you shrugged it off. Just meant a bigger lunch or you could always order something.

Such an amazing idea for sure.

Sighing as you headed into the office, you could hear the voices in the back, but you weren’t in a rush to see them just yet. You took your time setting your bag down and your laptop before grabbing San’s coffee to see if he was back.

You might have gotten a little too excited to hear his laugh when you approached the office door, only for it to drain away when you did see him. “Fuck that looks bad.”

“I’m so touched, sweetcheeks.” He had fully taken the pet name from Hyunjin and made it his own- considering how it still managed to fluster you a bit even if you were rolling your eyes at him.

San glanced up when you hissed out, brightening up despite his black eye and arm in a sling. “I’ve missed that beautiful face.” With a dimpled grin he slid off the desk to make his way over to you, stopping only because of the glare you gave him. “What? It’s not as bad as it looks!”

Rolling your eyes you approached. “Sure it isn’t, that sling is just for show. Sit your ass down, I brought you coffee.”

“Aw, but you didn’t know I was going to be here today-”

“Can you two not with the damned couple bullshit?” Jongho sneered from his desk, currently cleaning his weapon. “If it’s not you two flirting up a fucking storm, she’s at Mingi’s throat and I can’t ever tell if they are gunna fuck or fight… or both.”

Yunho laughed from his spot, nudging his friend next to him. “Well that would be great to see regardless. Think you would come out on top?”

Mingi scoffed. “Of course I would, that tiny thing couldn’t handle me. All bark, no bite, like a damned chihuahua.”

“Chihuahua’s bite.” Yunho pointed out with a grin. “And I think this little pet would claw and do some damage. Might be hot as hell though.”

Jongho gagged, pointing his empty mag at the two. “Truth be told my money is on the chihuahua, we forget Mingi is scared of dogs that bite.”

You ignored their banter for the most part, considering it was becoming a daily thing for you, and instead made San sit at his desk while he was watching you with an expression that was almost sweet. “I was hoping you would be, sue me if that makes me soft but at the moment, you are the only thing keeping me from putting a bullet in half the idiot's heads here.” You matched his grin, taking his coffee over to the little coffee station to look for the sugars he liked.

There was a loud bang from a door down the hall, what you recognized as the back entrance, but you ignored it until an unfamiliar- or perhaps somewhat familiar- voice rang in through the office.

Only to freeze.

“I’m back, bitches!!” In a high-pitched singsong tone, a new person stepped into the office. Curious, and suspecting this to be the final detective of the unit you hadn’t met, you glanced over your shoulder.

The gaudy shirt gave him away immediately, the man from the cafe setting the coffee’s on the unused desk as he began talking a mile a minute. “Sannie my man, looking better from the fight already. Got us quite a bit of rep this time around and what better way to celebrate than with a great fucking pussy? Seriously met the hottest fucking broad getting coffee, had no idea such a beauty would be around here but like fuck- got her number.” He giggled like a schoolgirl, bringing a coffee over to San.

San grinned up at him. “You do seem to work fast but I’ll pass on the coffee. Got one already.” He motioned over towards you, Mito turning to finally notice your presence.

Seriously, what was with you and wanting to fuck your coworkers?

“How’d you get one- OH!” It was with great amusement, and perhaps dismay, that he dropped the hot beverage when he realized you were right there in the room. San was quick, catching it mid-air and cursing as he set it aside. “Holy fuck what is my luck today? This is that new job huh?”

Now you weren’t so sure you would take him up on his offer of after-work pleasure; not that you didn’t find him attractive just that you were attempting to draw a line. The whole reason you really hadn’t taken it past flirting with San; he was a co-worker.

“Hi there again, Mito. I take it you would be the famed Jung Wooyoung?” With a light laugh, you waved, attempting civility.

“You two know each other?” Mingi grumbled, leaning in as if this was juicy gossip. He wasn’t the only one, even Jongho had stopped cleaning the barrel of his gun to glance at the still-shocked detective.

Wooyoung recovered quickly, cheeky grin back. “The hottie whose number I got- was hers. Mmm, I get to see you in the office too? Damn- wait, how the fuck had no one told me we have a drop dead gorgeous Goddess as part of our unit now?” He swiveled on the others.

“Didn’t think it was relevant.” San bristled, glancing over at you and the coffee you brought. “Plus you were undercover.”

“Undercover?” Wooyoung asked in obvious confusion. “She doesn’t know how we do things does she?”

Something about the way he said it piqued your interest. You already questioned some things they did here, writing it off as part of the job and necessary: Like Mingi’s constant fucking, how bad the fights were with San, and how deep of an undercover this new detective had to be to have the same influence as Hwon- a known freelancer in the underbelly of the city. That seemed like a pretty solid reputation that would require some years, and better product than just one fighter to get.

You couldn’t help but scoff. “They set the bar pretty low, I'm sure you’ll be fine. Already making a better impression than most of them in the full two weeks I’ve been here.” You shrugged off his advances, turning to finish making San’s coffee which you just now realized you knew by heart… after barely a week.

So why did he act as if being undercover was news to him?

Before you could question him, Captain came in with Seonghwa right behind him. “She’s still in a trial run Wooyo, calm yourself. We were also waiting until you got back to see about field work…” The look he shared with his vice didn’t go unnoticed, not when you were on edge, observing every little tick between the seven of them.

“Oh so she gets to work with me now? Fucking sweet.” Cheering a little, he turned back to you with a wide grin. “So beautiful, I know I can’t compare to some of these fine gentlemen but I promise to treat you good- in the field and out of it.” With a wink he made his way over to you, more flirtatious than he had been back at the cafe. Which would have been nice if you weren’t actively fighting off attraction now.

Fuck.

Wooyoung whistled next to you. “Man were they that disappointing in bed? Wow their game must have dropped considerably. I can make it better for ya.”

Mingi and Yunho both looked up at his comment, stopping the little conversation they were having, just as you glanced up at him. “If you’re implying I slept with any of them, no. Aside from mostly San, they were more ready to kick my ass to the curb.”

You took a second to glance around the room, noticing that Yeosang had joined in and was grabbing a coffee from the few that Wooyoung brought. Seonghwa looked much more stressed than normal and even Hongjoong seemed a little ticked off, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. Jongho had gone back to cleaning his gun but there was an ever present smirk on his face while Yunho seemed to be enjoying the chaos unfolding. Mingi’s reaction struck you as the oddest, as he almost appeared as panicked as San did.

“WHAT?!” The holy shriek he let out had you flinching, but he was already turning to the others. “You are telling me that you have been gazing on this fine fucking beauty for two whole fucking weeks and none of you have even gotten a taste? Shameful. All of you are absolutely shameful.” He tsked dramatically, taking in the view as you brought San his coffee. “Not even you Sannie?”

“Not all of us think with our dicks-”

“Mingi does- Fuck not even Mingi fucking Malik had a taste? Ya’ll trippin. Where does she even sit? Was she at my desk? Please say yes-”

“Receptionist.” Seonghwa finally stepped into the conversation, fixing Wooyoung with a glare while Hongjoong was giggling under his breath behind him. “Wooyoung, can you please quiet it? It’s Monday-”

He was broken off by Wooyoung’s flabbergasted gasp. “Up front alone? Damn they really gave you the cold shoulder. It’s okay, beautiful, Wooyoung is here now. Need a nice warm seat, my face is available- or dick. Wouldn’t mind being a step stool either.”

It seemed he would have ranted more if San hadn’t ignored the coffee in your hand to reach out and grab the man’s jaw instead, squeezing it still. “Wooyoung- stop. Fucking stop. Do you think it’s nice to be talking about how you want to fuck our new addition to the unit in front of her?”

“No-” Wooyoung got out through the grip, glancing over at you as you watched with a lifted brow. “I really don’t get why you haven’t- yall fuck around a lot. And she’s beautiful.”

His constant praise was a bit touching, and a few things he said had been very tempting, but you were determined to keep it professional. “I don’t want to sleep with my unit members anyways.”

“Why not?”

“Complicates the job.” You admitted, finding yourself much more calmer despite the turn this morning had taken. Back to square one really.

Wooyoung scoffed, pulling out of San’s grip to look you right in the eye. “Can’t imagine how- or are you unaware that half the time we are on each other’s dicks? I mean Captain’s office is locked half the time because his pants are down and he’s having a grand ol’ time with-” His mouth was quickly covered by San who appeared panicked.

What the fuck were you missing?

“So what, you all fuck each other? In the office too?” You looked around for clarification but the only one who would look at you was Yunho and he just smirked wider.

San seemed even more panicked, glaring at Wooyoung only to be pushed back down on the desk. With his arm in the bind, he fell back. “See for yourself, beautiful.”

Out of all the things that you could expect, watching the new detective lock lips with San was definitely not on the list. Your mouth dropped open, eyes going wide as you tried to comprehend just what you were seeing.

You didn’t have time to process at all, Hongjoong calling out your name before he grabbed your arm and pulled you to your office. The only thought in your head was why were you getting pulled into the office?

Seriously… what the fuck.

Taglist will be continued in a reblog!!

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hellfirenacht · 8 months

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Wing Man Part 7

Fic Summary: Steve 'the Hair' Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you'll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.

(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)

Chapter Summary: Dustin spills the beans, and Wayne gives some advice.

5k words

Chapter Summary: Dustin spills the beans, and Wayne gives some advice.

A/N: Happy New Year! I ran out of steam there for a while but I am bursting with new inspiration and have a billion ideas for new and old fics! Thank you for your patience and support 💜

The next night after dropping you off at home, there was a storm the likes of which Hawkins had never seen. Lightning lit up the sky through the night like a shitty rave, knocking out the power for Forest Hills Trailer Park for the better part of two days. It wasn’t until Saturday, when Eddie attempted to check in on Ronnie again, that he realized that their worn out phone had been completely fried. Shit.

Getting a new one was easier said than done, Eddie and Wayne had to pinch pennies this week after his uncle had been out of work a few days because of a cold, and having to replace a good chunk of groceries that had gone bad sitting in the dead fridge.

Sure, Bev had been nice enough to give Eddie a few extra shifts at the Hideout to help cover but that was a paycheck that wasn’t going to be in for another week. There was always his dealings, but he’d been keeping his head down after nearly having his stash blown by an over enthusiastic K-9 unit that, thankfully, was more interested in the jerky that Eddie had in his jacket.

For a week, he’d been without a phone now. Normally it wasn’t a huge loss, not many people actually bothered trying to call him anyway, and Wayne didn’t really socialize much working the night shift. But he missed Ronnie, and he really was stressing each day that went by that he didn’t call you. Eddie knew that whatever this was, he was probably already blowing it.

Tuesday rolled around again, and he hoped that you’d show back up to the Hideout. Jeff had even agreed to give most of the band a ride if Eddie agreed to haul their equipment and do all of the breakdown in case you needed another ride home. No such luck though, unbeknownst to him Keith had come down with the same cold that his Uncle Wayne had the week before, meaning you had to work a double.

It was now Friday, over a week since you’d written your name in the most stubborn permanent marker he’d ever come across. Your name still stained his skin in a faint and ugly shade of pea green. Eddie could now say your number by memory, despite never having punched in the digits once. If anyone at school had noticed that Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson had a girl's name on his arm, they didn’t say anything.

“Whose number is that?” Mike asked in the middle of a time out while Zach and Gareth were pouring over the rule book over the legality of a move that Eddie was sure was bullshit. So much for that.

Eddie’s head snapped over to the freshman while those in Corroded Coffin snickered and suddenly lost interest in the rules for the moment. With the candles and stage lights on, it was always warm in the Hellfire room, and Eddie had stripped his jacket giving his arms a chance to breathe while he guided the party on their next adventure.

It had also meant that the faded remains of your number was still visible, which he hadn’t thought much of until Mike had pointed it out.

“Yeah, Eddie, whose number is it?” Jeff snickered, which earned a hard look from Eddie that under any other circumstances would have shut Jeff up but in this case only made him laugh harder.

For a moment he debated internally about putting his jacket on, and telling them all to shove it. It was tempting, very tempting, but Eddie wasn’t a teen anymore. Hell, he had a good two to three years on most of the members in this club. Why should he be embarrassed because a cute girl had some sort of interest in him?

Because you’re blowing it by not being able to call her. He told himself.

Eddie then told the table about how you’d given him your number right before he dropped you off. How you’d been a perfect gentleman and hadn’t taken advantage of him or made any untowards moves to him. (Even if he had thought you almost did, but he kept that part to himself).

To his surprise, the ribbing was kept to a minimal. Without Eddie fighting against it, the group became less interested. Eddie’s love life was only of interest when it meant that the sheep could finally have some fun with the shepard.

That was going to be the end of it. Jeff had conceded that the rule they were looking up had been an old house rule from his middle school group that he had never questioned as not actually being accurate, and they were ready to move on. Eddie opened his mouth to guide the party to the next encounter-

“I thought you said you weren’t interested in her.” Dustin suddenly said. Eddie had thought that the shrimp had been suspiciously quiet for the past few minutes.

“If that was him not interested then I’m quitting Hellfire to be a cheerleader.” laughed Gareth.

“No one wants to see you in a miniskirt, man.” said Mike.

“They have guy cheerleaders!” protested Gareth. “I’d wear the pants.”

“That’d be a first.” ribbed Zack.

“Don’t you have to be crazy strong to be a cheerleader? Gareth, your strength stat sucks.”

“I haul my own drumset every week!”

“Can we get back to the game?”

“Eddie,” Dustin spoke up again. His brows were furrowed and he was messing with his pencil, the same way he did when someone in the party was about to do something that didn’t make any sense. “You did say you weren’t interested.”

So much for Eddie’s love life being of no interest, he now had a herd of sheep looking at him expectantly, no longer talking about Gareth possibly changing after school activities. He should ignore it, get everyone back on track, and lead them back into the Forbidden Caves where he was not tempted to throw a mimic in for messing with the flow of the game.

He should... but Dustin’s comment bugged him for some reason.

“I never said that.” Eddie said, looking at the kid.

“What? Yeah you did!” Dustin looked as shocked as Eddie felt. When had he ever said he wasn’t interested in you?

“Oh yeah, when?” Eddie crossed his arms and leaned back in his throne, his eyes narrowing.

“At the arcade!” Dustin sounded frustrated. “You told me that you didn’t want me introducing you to anyone when we were doing Hellfire related shit, and that you weren’t interested anyway.”

The warmth from the candles and stage lights were nothing compared to the heat of everyone’s eyes on him. What the fuck was Henderson even talking about?

Oh. Oh what the fuck?!

“Excuse me?” Eddie said slowly as that thirty second conversation started to play in his mind.

“Yeah, I remember that.” Mike added, in an attempt to back up his friend. “We just assumed she wasn’t your type.”

Eddie hadn’t been looking to be anyone’s boyfriend. He was never looking to be dating anyone, the few times he’d found himself in the good graces of a girl who’d shown interest in him it had always blown up in his face.

That had never stopped him from trying though.

“Are- wait. Back up.” Eddie stood up and made his way over to the opposite end of the table where the freshmen were suddenly looking very nervous. He grabbed them by the shoulders, as he’d done so many times in the past and hauled them up while the rest of the table watched on in amusement. Normally, Eddie would never pause the game but, fuck it. This kid had something to do with you, and he was going to figure out what.

“Jesus, Eddie-” Mike said, wincing at the grip. “I don’t have anything to do with this, it was all Dustin and Steve!”

This was getting more and more confusing by the moment. Eddie shoved the two boys to face them, leaning over them. Even with Mike’s growth spurt over the past few months, somehow Eddie still seemed to tower over them.

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice was slow, trying to understand why that name was even being spoken in the private sanctuary away from jocks.

“Yes, Steve! They’re like, best friends or something! Ask Dustin!” Mike said, throwing his friend under the bus.

“What’s the big deal?!” Dustin asked, looking between Mike and Eddie with a look of bewilderment.

“Henderson, you have thirty seconds to explain what the actual Hell is going on before your character becomes Quasit food.” Eddie said, releasing his grip on both of the freshmen.

“Okay, okay!” Dustin held his hand up in surrender, looking nervous as everyone watched the scene unfold. “So, you know how her and Steve work together? Well, they had a deal going on where they’d help get each other dates.”

Eddie’s head tilted down slightly, but his eyes stayed firmly focused on Dustin. This was making less and less sense by the minute. Steve needed help getting dates? King Steve of Hawkins High who had the pick of any girl in school before he graduated? That Steve Harrington couldn’t get a date and so had recruited you into helping him?

And you, you with the everything about you couldn’t get a date either? Hadn’t you mentioned something about that before, at the Hideout?

“I help him and he uh... he helps me get out of the house.”

You’d said that, and he hadn’t thought much of it until now. All this time, Eddie had thought the arcade incident had been Dustin trying to have his two older male friends meet and be friends, but it had been you that he was supposed to meet?

“So you’re telling me that you, Dustin Henderson and Steve Harrington were trying to set me up on a date?” Eddie looked over at the rest of the table that looked just as bewildered as he did. This was a prank, right? He’d been tossed into some sort of alternate dimension where a freshman and a jock had any sort of interest in his love life, in any part of his life. He’d sooner believe that he’d run a drug deal with Chrissy Cunningham than this.

“Well, technically we were trying to set her up on a date and you seemed like a good fit?” Dustin’s answer came out as more of a question, leaving Eddie’s mind reeling. Behind him, he could hear the growing snickers of the party.

Eddie was ready for this to start making sense any time now.

“So she was helping Steve get dates and he wanted to set her up with me?” Nope, even after thinking it a half dozen times it still wasn’t clicking.

“That part was my idea actually!” Dustin said, showing off a smile filled with metal. “She’s pretty weird and Steve said she was picky-”

“Can’t be that picky if she was interested in Eddie.” muttered Gareth, earning another round of laughter at the table.

Eddie didn’t even have it in him to shoot another look at the table as he continued to try and piece together what was going on.

You and Steve had a deal to try and get each other dates. You were picky and so Dustin suggested Eddie. Steve then brought you to the arcade to force a meeting and-

“Wait, did she know that she was supposed to meet me?” Eddie asked suddenly.

“Oh yeah, she knew the whole time in the arcade.” Dustin nodded, hoping that Eddie wasn’t about to blow a fuse over this. “Well, she figured it out at least. See she was just supposed to be tagging along with Steve to find guys to flirt with but then uh... she realized she was supposed to meet you.”

“And she didn’t know who I was?” Eddie clarified, thinking back to the way you’d tried to talk to him about Hellfire, Chris Morrison, anything to try and start a conversation. How the hell was it that he could remember every time you two met so clearly, but you didn’t know who he actually was?

Because it wasn’t about you, Eddie. He had to remind himself.

Dustin shrugged. “I guess not? She’s never mentioned you before that night.”

Guess not everyone paid attention to the Freak. He hated that it bugged him that you didn’t remember him but could he blame you? He probably wouldn’t remember him either, just a Munson fuck up who everyone was waiting to end up dead in a ditch somewhere.

Eddie pushed Dustin back down into his seat, done interrogating the poor freshman. Everyone watched as he made his way back to his side of the table, behind the DM screen. He had a lot to think about, but he wasn’t about to start processing that in front of the rest of Hellfire.

“You all wander deeper into the cave, the only light coming from the torch carried by-”

“I have dark vision!”

Broke and bored, Eddie haunted the trailer for the rest of the weekend. He did have practice with Corroded Coffin for a generous two hours on Saturday, and then a long shift that night at the Hideout where one old drunk had slipped him a $10 tip for making sure he always had a cold beer in hand. But those few hours were just a minor reprieve from the information that Dustin had given him the previous day.

When he wasn’t distracted by work or practice he was practicing guitar, working on lyrics, prepping for the next Hellfire session.

He tried to think about you, but ended up feeling confused. When he was trying to think about anything else, all he could see was the way you had flirted with him at the Hideout.

Despite popular opinion, Eddie wasn’t stupid when it came to girls. He could tell when a girl was interested in him, and you had made it clear that you had at least some interest in him. You had told him point blank that you were not with Harrington, and had no interest as well. He’d seen the way you looked at him while watching them play, that excitement in your eyes. Your head had bobbed to the rhythm of their songs watching them with as much enthusiasm as if you’d been a fan for years.

Paige had watched with similar eyes, right? She’d seen something in them that no one else had before-

No. Not them. Not Corroded Coffin. Just Eddie.

It felt pathetic that he kept comparing you to Paige. He didn’t want to, he really didn’t want to. It wasn’t like he was still hung up on Paige, not really. She’d just been a turning point in who he was as a person. She’d been the first (and last) girl to really look at him as a person. If his dating prospects had been small before, they had completely dried up over the past two years.

Date the freak? Yeah, right. There had been the odd girl who’d hit on him as if daring themselves to get with him but he was done with that. A few mediocre dates that he’d agreed to out of boredom or loneliness had only added to the idea in Hawkins High that he was undesirable. Adding to that, the older he got, the younger his underclassmen became and the idea of dating someone younger was... well he didn’t need to add ‘creep’ to the long list of rumors about him. It didn’t matter to him most of the time, instead focusing on his friends, his band, his club, his business, himself. God knows he’d never be able to hold down a relationship unless he got his shit together and earned everyone’s trust again.

“Graduate and get laid, Munson.” Ronnie’s voice echoed in the back of his mind and he groaned as his face warmed. It was the middle of the week, just over two weeks since the night at the Hideout. Eddie was laying on the old couch face down, his homework on the counter half finished and the blue glow of the tv doing little to distract him.

The sound of the door opening didn’t even phase him enough to look up, even as Wayne grunted out a hello before setting something down on the counter next to his forgotten schoolbooks.

“Did you eat?” Wayne asked, which earned a shrug from Eddie. How could he think about eating when he was stuck thinking about everything else?

“Are you gonna tell me why you’ve been moping around for the past few weeks?” Wayne tried again in an attempt to be a good guardian. When that didn’t work either he sighed and said “Might as well step outside with me and have a smoke.”

It was better than doing whatever the hell else Eddie was doing now, and so he rolled off the couch less than gracefully and followed his uncle out onto the porch to sit on the outdoor couch. Wayne offered him the smoke and for a moment it was peaceful. Wayne wasn’t one to push Eddie to talk about anything, but he did have a way to make him think even if it did piss him off occasionally.

Eddie took a long drag of the cigarette and released it slowly as he stared up at the sky. It was a dark night, a million tiny dots illuminating the trailer park, even if the moon wasn’t out. He scanned the stars, looking for the three that he knew were Orion’s belt. That’s about where his astrology knowledge began and ended, but it was something to look for at least.

“I think a girl likes me.” He finally said as he spotted what he assumed was the constellation he was looking for.

“Yeah?” Wayne asked, his own eyes gazing upwards as well, giving Eddie the space to talk more.

“Yeah.”

It was silent again for a few minutes as they smoked, the only other sound for a while was that of Wayne cracking open a beer. That’s what Eddie appreciated about Wayne, he didn’t need to fill the silence like his dad did, and Eddie didn’t need to either. He could just... exist.

“I don’t know what to do about it.” Eddie finally said a while later. “She only has an interest because her and some jock are trying to get each other dates.”

“Is that right?” Coming from anyone else that question would have been dismissive, a filler phrase to show that they were paying minimal attention. Eddie knew better though, which caused a knot of frustration in his gut.

“I guess.” he shrugged.

“How many dates has she gone on?” Wayne passed the beer to Eddie, who took a grateful sip.

“Don’t know. It didn’t sound like she’d been on many. Henderson said she’s picky.”

“But she likes you.”

“Yeah.”

Another long stretch of silence as Eddie stewed over the question. He hated how Wayne could break down his problems into simple questions.

“Don’t see why you’re moping around if she likes you.” Wayne glanced over at Eddie. “Are you sweet on her?”

Eddie snorted at the term, taking another drag from the cigarette and flicking the ashes off the porch. “She’s cute.” he said, thinking about how you’d looked the last few times he’d seen you. He might have been distracted that first night at the arcade, but not so distracted that he didn’t notice that at least. “Smart too. She got the guys to listen to her last time we hung out.”

Wayne raised an eyebrow. “She got Gareth to pay attention? That’s a damn miracle.”

“They liked her too.”

“More than the California girl?”

The question caught Eddie off guard and he looked up at Wayne who was still looking off in the distance. Eddie had never explained exactly to Wayne what had happened that first senior year, most of the details going to what happened with Al when Officer Morris was shot. They never talked about how Eddie was so damn close to packing everything up and running away to California.

Thinking about everything that happened that year still stung. Eddie had tried hard not to think about what could have been if CJ and Toby had just shown up one or two days later. Would Eddie have made it to the audition? Would they have really liked him? Maybe in another life he’d be signed and he’d be working on an album or on tour and him and Paige...

It didn’t matter, that ship had long since sailed. Eddie was no rock hero, and never would be. He tried to tell himself it was better this way, if anything it meant that his relationship with Al was over and done with which was a hollow victory if he was being honest.

“Definitely more than her.” Eddie finally agreed. You weren’t asking him to ditch the band and run away with you, so that had to give you some points for them, and for him. Dustin vouched for you, and even Mike, but he wasn’t sure how much that counted for yet. After all Dustin still seemed to worship Steve, and you were friends with Steve-

But did that actually matter? If you and Steve were close enough friends to help each other like this, and Steve was willing to vouch for Eddie, despite never having any real conversation just because Dustin said something-

“She gonna ask you to run away?” Wayne was now looking at Eddie again.

Sometimes he wondered if his uncle could secretly read minds.

“Doubt it.” Eddie said, “She works at the video store. I don’t know much about her, honestly.”

“So ask her on a date.”

“What?”

“She likes you, you want to get to know her. Ask her on a date. It’s not that complicated, Eddie.” Wayne dropped the cigarette on the porch and crushed it under his boot. “You always did think too much, always sucked up in your own world. You’ll be happier in the long run if you open up a bit.”

Easier said than done for a 20 year old still in high school that the whole town considered a satanic cult leader. Then again, when was the last time he’d really opened up to anyone other than Ronnie or Wayne? Right, his dad in the weeks before the heist.

“I think I fucked this up before I could even start.” Eddie sighed, snuffing out his own half finished cigarette. “She gave me her number and I never called.”

“Could’a grabbed a quarter from the change jar and used a pay phone.”

Eddie pressed his hands against his face and dragged them down slowly. Why did good advice always come too late for him?

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I brought back a new phone for the kitchen today.”

Eddie’s head snapped up so fast he should have snapped something, his eyes widening.

“Don’t get too excited. It’s a new used phone. Guy down the line from me offered it up and it’s better than nothing.”

Eddie didn’t care if it was a rotary phone, he’d take anything at this point if it meant that he could try to call you.

He wanted to call you.

He wanted to call you. Eddie didn’t care if you remembered that first time you met, did it even really matter? You had an interest in him, Eddie Munson, now.

“Thanks, Wayne.” Eddie stood up and hurried inside, seeing the new old phone that was sitting on the counter. It took a few minutes of making sure it wouldn’t fall off the wall before he plugged it in and heard that sweet dial tone sound.

Eddie grabbed his copy of Lord of the Rings from his bedside table and pulled out the paper flower, looking at the number scribbled in his own chicken scratch. He didn’t trust himself to punch in the number without checking, no matter how many times he read the ten digits over the past two weeks.

It rang once.

Twice.

Six times.

No response.

“It’s late, she might be asleep.” Wayne said, grabbing a box of pasta from the cabinet.

It wasn’t that late, not even 8:30 yet. Eddie sighed and hung up the phone, crossing his arms as he thought about his next move. He’d always had tunnel vision when he got an idea into his head, from Corroded Coffin, to his campaigns, to a book that he wanted to read, it was hard to shake the urge when he got one.

Grabbing the keys from the counter he called over to Wayne “I’ll be back later.” which was responded to with a confirmation that he’d save some pasta for Eddie in the fridge.

There weren’t many places he could think of where you could be tonight. You hadn’t shown back up at the Hideout, and the arcade was closed this late on a weeknight. You could be at home, but Eddie didn’t remember where you lived and showing up to your place after two weeks of radio silence would definitely get him in trouble.

So he drove to Family Video.

If you were there he’d do.. something. If you weren’t he’d call you after school tomorrow. Eddie winced internally at the thought. He’d been trudging through school and dragging his feet for the past six years to graduate, and now was the time he felt childish about it. You could legally buy him a beer, and he could illegally sneak you a drink in the Hideout.

At a stoplight he swapped out the Black Sabbath tape for W.A.S.P., remembering that you had mentioned liking them. How did he continue to remember these small details about you?

Because she’s treated you like a human each time you’ve talked. It was startling how something so basic was such a big deal to him.

The lights were still on at Family Video, and the open sign was still lit up. He could see movement inside the store, and he caught sight of someone wearing the signature green vest that the employees wore.

He’d walk in, and if you were there he’d- fuck what the hell was he supposed to do? Eddie stared at the door from inside his van for a few minutes. It was past nine now, and he could have sworn that they should be closed now but that stupid sign was still on. That had to be a good sign right? Eddie wasn’t one to believe in stuff like that but maybe he’d be stupid to ignore a literal neon sign hanging in the door.

Okay, now or never. Eddie had never really been one to hesitate before and he wasn’t about to start now.

He made his way to the entrance and opened the door before he could think about what he was actually wanting to do. Eddie could improvise, it was one of the more useful skills that came from years of running Hellfire.

“Who didn’t lock the door?!” Your voice was a welcome sound, sealing the determination inside of him. No going back now.

“It was Steve’s job to-” your co-worker said. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t place a name to the face.

“Oh, shit. Hi.” Steve was the first to actually notice Eddie as he walked in, looking as if he was expecting literally anyone else.

Turning on the Freak, Eddie smirked at Steve. “Cursing in front of customers, Harrington? Now that’s not very professional of you.”

“Well, we’re closed. You can’t be a customer if you can’t pay.” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips in a way that reminded Eddie of a mother hen. Steve did have a point, and so he decided to cut through any bullshit and looked over at you. You looked like you’d had a long shift, but the way you were looking at him... there was still the same shock that was on Steve’s face, but while his shock was laced with confusion yours was excited. As if you couldn’t believe that The Freak was here and that was a good thing.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Eddie blurted out the request before he could think. He had no idea where you two would go or what you would do but he had to do something.

Your coworker nudged you in the ribs, and your expression changed to a more professional one.

“I- uh. I have to finish closing.” you said, looking at Steve for a split second.

“Steve and I can handle the rest of closing!” Eddie made a mental note to learn this girls name and send her a fucking gift basket one day.

“Guys, I’m literally in charge of you both. I can’t leave before you.” You said, reaching down to grab something from below the counter- your bag. Eddie felt himself growing more excited, his heart pounding as you tossed your work vest and keys over to them. They were basically shoving you out the door to spend time with him.

“We can handle it!” Steve said.

“And I can handle Steve!” Robin added. “We close without you and Keith all the time, remember?”

You stepped out from behind the counter, looking up at him. The color of your eyes under the fluorescent lights reminded him of the stars he had been looking at earlier this evening. Eddie found himself smiling at you as you opened the door for him.

Someone was quick to lock the door and turn the OPEN sign off.

Eddie opens his van door for you, trying his best to make a good impression for whatever was about to happen. You hopped into the passenger seat and he thought that he might enjoy seeing you sitting next to him like this in his van more often.

---

Next Chapter

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#Nacht fic #eddie munson x reader #wing man

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makeitmingi · 9 months

Text

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 8]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.3K

Yunho had a pep in his step as he came back to the restaurant on Friday morning. He was excited to come back to work so he arrived earlier. Yesterday felt weird to not go into the restaurant to work.

"(y/n)?" He poked his head in. You were alone and had your AirPods on, listening to music as you worked on whatever was in front of you. You hadn't heard him come in. Yunho blinked and stepped forward, tapping your shoulder lightly.

"Who-" You jumped back in fear, as if you were afraid of getting attacked. Yunho flinched also, surprised by your fearful reaction.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you!" Yunho fully bowed in apology.

"It's fine. I didn't hear you come in with my music playing." You frowned slightly, removing your AirPods and tucking them away. Yunho cleared his throat.

"Where are the others?" Yunho asked as he went to put his bag and coat in the locker room.

"I told them to sleep in a little. Sometimes, working in peace and quiet is what I need." You replied, mixing the pie batter in the bowl.

"I understand." Yunho nodded. You couldn't help but involuntarily snort at that, did he really understand what you meant? He seemed like someone who likes to surround himself with noise and other people, someone who doesn't like to be alone or for the environment to be too quiet.

"Hang on, let me make a coffee." Yunho said and went out to make himself a macchiato. At the same time, he made you an iced americano, bringing the cups into the kitchen.

"Thank you. Are you hungry?" You asked as you wiped your hands on your apron towel and took a sip before you went into the walk in.

"I guess?" Yunho blinked in confusion.

"I'll make you a sandwich." You came back out with a prep tray of items. You unwrapped the paper and there was a chunk of what looked like beef in the middle.

"What's that?" He came next to you, leaning to see as you used your knife to shave off slices of the meat.

"It's salt beef. Or corned beef. I made it yesterday for Seonghwa and got it ready this morning to give out." You explained.

"Here." You handed him a slice to try.

"Mmm! It's good." Yunho's eyes widened as he ate it. When he thought corned beef, his brain could only think of that chunk of meat that comes in a can. He didn't think that it was the processed version of this piece of meat in front of him.

"This is rye bread, Russian dressing, swiss cheese and sauerkraut. It's like a fermented, pickled cabbage." You showed him each component as you stacked the sandwich.

"Then we grill it to make a sandwich, a reuben sandwich." You pressed the sandwich onto a hot pan until the cheese melted and the bread toasted.

"It looks so good!" Yunho clapped his hands excitedly. When you took it off the pan, you sliced it down the middle.

"There you go, a reuben sandwich." You slid it to him. Yunho took his phone out to take a picture first.

He picked up the sandwich and took a big bite. The crunch of the bread with all the components, the sauerkraut cutting the creamy dressing and cheese, it was amazing.

"This is amazing." Yunho melted, leaning his elbows on the table as he savoured the taste.

As he enjoyed the sandwich, you went back to preparing the pastries and cakes for the day. You would occasionally glance over at Yunho eating his sandwich. Honestly, you had no idea why you felt so much anticipation making the sandwich for him. Maybe because you've been quite amused by his reactions to food so far.

"I'm glad you like it." You said, turning around to mix the muffin batter. Yunho smiled softly as he looked at the back of your head. It warmed his heart that this was you starting to open up to him.

"This thing... sauerkraut? How do you make it?" Yunho asked.

"It's actually really easy. You shred the cabbage and massage it with salt until the water comes out then you let it pickle with it's own natural bacteria and enzymes." You informed.

"So I'm guessing you made this?" He held up a strand of the pickled cabbage. You nodded your head.

"Well, I'm sad that this is my last bite." He pouted, staring at the small piece of sandwich that was left in his hands.

"You can always learn to make it yourself then make more." You replied.

"Speaking of, is there anything I can help you with? Since you're doing this on your own." Yunho straightened up, going to the sink to wash his hands and the plate the he used.

"The boys are coming in 30 minutes. But you can still help." You shrugged. He nodded, going to the locker room to retrieve a spare apron. After tying the string around his waist, he pulled his sleeves up and washed his hands again.

"Okay, chef! What do I do?" Yunho saluted with a big smile as he jogged over to where you were.

"We're going to make the coffee crumb cake. Measure all this into here while I make the crumb that goes in the middle and on top." You pointed on the recipe sheet and all the ingredients he needed.

"I can do that." He grinned and started measuring each component. You had taken out the ingredients earlier so he didn't need to retrieve them.

"Where is the coffee in the coffee cake?"

"There is actually no coffee in coffee cake. It's just meant to go well with a cup of coffee." You replied, mixing the crumb ingredients together with your fingers.

"That's... confusing..." He laughed. You hummed in agreement. You looked over to see how he was managing.

There was a small frown on his face as he checked the weighing scale for each ingredient, he chewed on his bottom lip, focussed on trying to get the exact weight of everything. You could tell he was frustrated when he was even 0.1g over what was needed. He would carefully add and remove each minute amount.

"Done!" He showed you the bowl. You told him which ingredients to put together, standing with him at the mixer to let him add the ingredients in.

"Once the sour cream, butter and sugar are whipped together and it looks fluffy and airy. Slowly add the eggs." You instructed. Yunho tried his best to follow your instructions. He didn't want to mess up.

"No shell." He said proudly, cracking the eggs into the small bowl and adding them in.

"Should I do the flour little by little?"

"Yes, maybe in batches of 3. Lower the speed of the mixer or it will go everywhere." You advised him. He did exactly as told, watching in amazement as he made the cake batter.

"I've never done this before. Or rather, my mum always said I made a mess so I wasn't alloewd to do much." He sighed.

"You've been keeping your area neat so far." You shrugged, continuing to mix with crumb with your hands to ensure you got the right consistency. You tasted it to make sure that the taste and texture wa right before going to wash your hands.

"That's good." You said. You took the bowl from the mixer and scraped down the sides. Then you grabbed the cake tin and layered the two components.

"Let me help." Yunho held the bowl of batter for you to guide it into the pan. After smoothing it, you put a layer of crumb.

"Ooh, like a filling?" He asked, watching you crumble the crumb evenly over the batter.

"Yes, so we cover this with the remaining batter and more crumb." You said, putting more batter on top of the middle layer of crumb. Then you put a final layer of crumb over the top.

You repeated the step for the other cake tin and put the cakes into the oven to bake.

"Morning, (y/n)." Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho came in.

"Hey." You greeted, putting the used dishes together. The 3 were surprised to see Yunho already there with an apron, standing beside you, ready to take on whatever task you assigned. From the flour stains on his apron, they guessed that you had let him help with with whatever you were doing.

"Look at you being so hardworking." Wooyoung wrapped his arms around you to squish you into a hug. You scrunched your nose lightly, body stiff but you didn't push him away.

"Did you sleep?" Seonghwa asked softly, a hand on your head. He didn't ask if you slept well, he asked if you slept at all.

"I did, Hwa. Don't worry. Your salt beef is in the fridge." You informed. Seonghwa's eyes widened in excitement.

"You didn't..."

"I did." You nodded. Seonghwa left you and immediately headed for the walk in. He came back out with the piece of salt beef that you had used earlier.

"See? You should get a meat slicer so we don't have to manually slice it anymore." Jongho chuckled.

"If you can find anymore space in my kitchen to put an industrial meat slicer, go ahead, Jong." You rolled your eyes. Wooyoung was still glued to your side, his arms around your waist as he leaned his head on your shoulder tiredly.

Yunho watched this exchange quietly. You were really so different when you were around familiar people. Not only were you more relaxed, there was a little bit more playfulness in the way you spoke.

"Okay, get to work." You said, patting Wooyoung on the hip. He went to get his apron.

"What has been done?" He asked.

"Muffins and coffee crumb cake are in the oven. Chicken & leek pie filling is done, pastry has not been rolled out and blind baked. I was getting Yunho started on the financier batter."

"Are you getting more comfortable around the kitchen?" Seonghwa asked Yunho, chewing on a slice of salt beef.

"Thanks for (y/n)!" He replied enthusiastically. You raised your eyebrows at his reply.

"Hwa, stop eating and get to work. You can make your sandwich later." You scolded. Seonghwa laughed and covered the meat back up with the paper wrapping, putting it back into the walk in. He washed his hands and was by your side immediately, assisting you with what you were doing.

"Maybe I should move out of the way." Yunho said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"No, it's fine. Just finishing weighing all this according to this. Woo, take over the mixing later?" You turned to the male. Wooyoung gave you a thumbs up.

"I'm making the brown butter now." He informed, swirling the pan on the stove. The brown butter gives financiers a nutty flavour.

"It smells nice in here!" San came through the door.

"Boss man is working in the kitchen?" Yeosang tilted his head, seeing Yunho working with Jongho by the mixer. Wooyoung nodded his head with a playful giggle.

"Told you guys I can bake." Yunho scoffed.

"Are you sure you didn't just eat the scraps?" Mingi scoffed, coming back into the kitchen with an iced coffee in hand.

"No, that's not true! I'm not like all of you who just samples and eats everything. I actually helped make the coffee crumb cake. Didn't I, (y/n)?" Yunho frowned with a small pout. You nodded in confirmation, stirring the icing for said cake in your bowl.

"Ice and slice." You slid the bowl of icing to Jongho. Jongho picked it up immediately, drizzling the icing over the cooled cake in a zig-zag pattern. Yunho looked on, proud that he helped make that.

"Financiers going in the oven." Wooyoung announced.

"I'll do the bacon and egg danishes." Seonghwa said. You went over to help him with that.

"We should go get the store front ready for opening. Stock the coffee bar with what we need." Yunho said to his 4 friends. The 5 of them went out, leaving the kitchen.

"Hongjoong, I moved the box of milk cartons into the walk in. They were delivered this morning." You informed.

"Okay, thanks (y/n)." Hongjoong smiled and went to the walk in with Yeosang to help him move the boxes of milk cartons out to the front.

"Can I make all of you a drink?" Mingi offered. You still had the coffee Yunho made you so only Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho gave their drink orders.

The 4 of you worked well, like usual, all falling into your own tasks and jobs without having to give too much detailed instructions. Jongho did the prep and final touches, Wooyoung was working on one pastry while Seonghwa did another. You floated between them, helping them or pulling stuff out of the oven.

"You made sure a pretty crimp, Jongho." You chuckled as you pulled out the chicken and leek pies. Yunho liked the idea of a mix of savoury and sweet baked goods to sell.

"I'm going to slice the banana cake." You said, cutting the loaves of banana cake into slices for serving.

"Ready for the counter." Seonghwa told the boys outside. They came in to help carry the completed sweets out to the front.

"Can I try a slice of the coffee cake?" Yunho asked. Jongho cut him a slice and served it on a plate for him. Yunho took a bite and you swore his eyes sparkled.

"I helped make this?!" He asked in disbelief. You nodded slowly, eyebrows raised in slight amusement.

"Oh my gosh! Guys, eat this! I helped make it!" Yunho ran out to let his friends try it. And to possibly rub in their faces that he was able to make something so delicious in the kitchen without blowing something up, unlike them.

"Did Yunho really make help make that? Cause it's actually edible." Mingi pointed to the plate. Yunho slapped the back of his head with an offended frown.

"He did. He measured out everything and did the cake mixing." You replied, wiping down the counter.

You heard Yunho open up the shop and the chatter of customers come in. The boys outside went to work at once, serving customers.

"Lunch will be reuben sandwiches." You said.

"Another of those amazing sandwiches?" Yunho beamed as he overheard your words while he walked in to retrieve more cocoa powder from the pantry.

"Mhmm." You nodded. Yunho grinned and nodded before leaving the kitchen.

"Another? You mean, you made him a reuben already?" Wooyoung asked. You nodded again.

"This morning when he came in early. I let him try the salt beef and made him a reuben. Although, I think he might like the sauerkraut a little more than the actual meat. He's never had a reuben before and was quite amazed by it." You explained with a small smile on your face, remembering his reaction to the sandwich.

"Wow. Look at you having cute moments with our boss." Jongho teased with his arms crossed. You shot him a flat look, rolling your eyes and continuing what you were doing.

"There was no moment. I made him a sandwich. I have been making all of you sandwiches for so long." You said.

"The first sandwich she made me was kimchi and peanut butter." Seonghwa remembered.

"I was 5!" You hissed.

"And so cute. You looked at me and asked me if it was delicious, I had to tell you it was the best thing I've ever eaten." He laughed, patting your head and pinching your cheek.

"You know what, make your own salt beef next time. I'm not going to be nice to you anymore." You frowned.

"Sure, you know you can't help but be nice to me." Seonghwa wrapped his arms around you, hugging you. You and Seonghwa have been taking care of each other for a long time. While you never verbally expressed yourself, you did it through acts of service.

After all the cakes and pastries were done, you all did the clean up. Wooyoung and Seonghwa did the dishes while you and Jongho made sandwiches for everyone.

"I'll start toasting the sandwiches." You stood at the stove. Jongho helped you put the sandwiches on the pan.

"Whew, it's busy out there!" San huffed as he entered, leaning against the wall tiredly.

"Want a sandwich?" Wooyoung offered. San brightened up, coming over to see what the 4 of you were eating. You gave him one of the sandwiches and he ate it.

"What? This is so good!" San chewed and looked at the sandwich that he had just taken a bit out of.

"It's called a reuben sandwich. There's beef, cheese, pickled cabbage and a dressing. And then it is toasted." Jongho said, munching on the dill pickle that he usually had alongside his reuben. It was homemade, made by Jongho himself. Wooyoung and Seonghwa preferred just crisps.

"The beef is nice. The spices is good and it's really smokey." San nodded as he took another bite.

"It tastes better when you use an actual smoker." You chuckled. There was no space in a Korean apartment for a full size smoker so you relied on a makeshift one, using wood chips in your oven.

"Hey! What are you eating without me?" Mingi came in, tired from the Friday crowd. He came over to see what San was eating.

"Woah, that looks bomb." Mingi commented, looking at the sandwich. Seonghwa slid one over to him.

"That's for you." He informed. Mingi beamed excitedly and went to wash his hands before digging into the sandwich hungrily. San looked at Mingi with a smirk.

"Isn't it one of the best things you've ever had?" San laughed.

"It's amazing! What? How can a sandwich be so good?" Mingi said in disbelief, taking another bite to convince himself. You, Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho shot each other looks. This was such a genuinely amazed reaction, it was amusing.

"Yunho reacted the same way as all of you." You stated.

"Wait, Yunho's already had one? When?" Mingi and San turned to you in confusion.

"This morning when he came in. I made him one for breakfast." You blinked, taking a bite of your own sandwich.

"And he didn't think to leave any for us? Or tell us about it? See, I told you he was selfish over food." Mingi scoffed at his best friend. San laughed but nodded in agreement.

"Someone is talking about me in here?" Yunho poked his head in. His eyes narrowed in on the sandwich Mingi was eating.

"Is he eating my sandwich?!" Yunho screeched.

"Relax. Yours, Yeosang's and Hongjoong's are here." You pointed to the plates on the back counter. Yunho let out a sigh of relief, no way was he going to share his sandwich, even with his best friend.

"San, if you're done. We need help." Hongjoong popped in briefly. San went to wash his hands and went back out to help manage the crowd and orders. Yunho came in, closing the kitchen door behind him. Mingi looked at him with a raised eyebrow, making Yunho frown in confusion as to why he was being stared at.

"What?"

"You had one sandwich all to yourself this morning for breakfast. Didn't think to leave any of it for us to try?" Mingi asked.

"You're having one now, aren't you? Leave me and my sandwich alone." Yunho scoffed with a pout. They all were like children, fighting over food.

"I share everything with you! You're being selfish." Mingi exclaimed.

"Sorry, Mingi ah. We're best friends but when it comes to delicious food like this, it's every man for himself." Yunho shrugged.

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itsgodepi · 9 months

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If I lose my mind | Ch. 8

Series summary: When you're buried under a mountain of problems and can’t seem to catch a break, it might feel like you need a complete reset. But did it really have to come with a one-way ticket to a new dimension? Surely, a little problem-solving would’ve done the trick. Or, one day you go to sleep as a normal person and the next you wake up as a Formula One driver. You've never been a fan but isn't it like, one of the most exclusive sports? Pairing: CL16, LH44, CS55, DR3 x fem!reader Chapter: Previous | Next Word Count: 5.4k Also on AO3

“Your things arrived a few days ago, the... uh, what’s it called in English? The portier?” Charles questions with furrowed brows, repeating the French word once again, much slower and carefully, so you can have a fair try at guessing its meaning

It takes you a second to give a meaning to what he is trying to say, “Is it like the one that manages the building, kind of?”, the exact word he refers to not coming to mind no matter how much you try. Your mental dictionary is running a bit low after everything went down today.

“Yeah, that’s it” he smiles at you over his shoulder, leading you out of the elevator and into a small corridor. The suitcase’s wheels clattering across the black tiles, following your path to one of the apartments’ doors, number 7 “What, you know French now?”

“No, no, I wish” you laugh, shaking your head at the possibility that you would ever understand any other word in that language “It just sounds similar to the word in Spanish, portero”

Charles opens the door before answering, a sight that leaves you open-mouthed being discovered before you. You do not know in what to focus first, if the sight of the tall buildings and the port drawn out in the floor to ceiling windows or the expensive looking furniture that decorates the rest of the room “Well, you’ve come to the best place to learn”

Because yes, you have in fact encountered the perfect opportunity to learn the language. After all you'll be living in Monaco for at least ten days before going back to the crazy life of a Formula One driver. That is enough time to grasp a bit of French or drive yourself crazy, we’ll see which one of the two comes first.

Your morning had started with a chain of events that leaned more towards the second option. You had woken up in the late morning, the warmth of the soft bedsheets and the darkness provided by the thick curtains almost fooling you into believing you had finally escaped this bizarre dream, that you were back home, and your alarm was pushing you out of bed for your practices. There would be an awful day ahead of you, but at least a real one.

But that hope was short lived.

Instead of your alarm, that ringing noise turns out to be coming from the hotel’s phone, a man on the other line animatedly informing you that this is your wakeup call and to have a great day when you pick it up. Apparently, Nick had been the one to request the service, sceptic that you would make it in time to the airport without him nagging you about it. The exact same reason why he had prepared for a car to be waiting outside for you at least an hour before, just in case.

Charles and Carlos are already waiting when you arrive to Budapest’s airport, inside a very expensive looking waiting room that hosts only the few people travelling alongside you. Yeah, it seems like flying private actually means flying private, with all the special commodities that brings. However, it also means that the first time you hear what country you are heading to is when you are strapped down to your seat and about to take off. Monaco seems alright, doesn’t it?

“He called me like, right before FP2, back in France, because a couple of suitcases had arrived for me.” Charles continues recounting the events of last Friday, inviting you in and taking the heavy bag that you insisted on carrying from you “I wasn’t expecting anything, so I almost turned them all away, all your luggage for the break! Seriously, you have to text me or something next time you send your things over...”

Mindlessly, you give in to his nagging and apologise for not warning him beforehand “Sorry, my mind’s been all over the place lately”, even if you have no idea what those things he is complaining about are or what that implication for a next time actually means. It is easier this way.

Charles seems to perfectly understand what you are saying, the confession about the hardships you have been facing holding a deeper meaning for him than you could ever fathom “I know, it’s okay”, but he does not even know half of what you are going through

After weeks upon weeks of waking up alone in a cold and unfamiliar hotel room —what little belongings you have pushed to a corner and some clothes thrown over a chair—, it is not surprising that the sight of Charles Leclerc sleepily going through the kitchen’s cabinets makes you feel all warm inside. The man is wearing a white baggy shirt and blue shorts, his hair a mess and lips pursed in concentration.

He turns around as soon as he hears you padding through the corridor, a grin slowly taking over his expression “Good morning! Did you sleep well? I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No no, it’s alright, I’ve been up for a while” you calm him down, walking up to the countertop and awkwardly leaning on it. Unlike him, you are already dressed up and pretty clear-headed, you never know what your mind is going to put you through in this new day. Your room is pretty far apart from the kitchen and his room too, there is no way you could have heard him with how huge huge his apartment is “And you? How did you sleep?”

“Great, it always feels nice being back home” Charles prepares the rest of the breakfast while you chat away, inviting you to sit on one of the highchairs at the other side of the countertop when you do so much as try to help him fix the dishes. He somehow knows exactly what to prepare for you, his plate and yours starkly different and yet he is not doubting a single one of his choices, as if he had done it a thousand times.

“So, what do you want to do today? I have to make a few calls but, after that, I’m all ready to go” the man explains, finally pouring himself a cup of coffee and coming to sit beside you. In response you can only give a shrug of your shoulders while you munch on the toast Charles so carefully prepared, you have no idea what is there to visit in Monaco. Thankfully, Charles has given the trip some though —well, he was bringing you to his literal hometown, how could he not?—, and in a second has your day all planned out.

The conferences take longer than expected, the driver coming to apologise over and over again when he has to shut himself off into his improvised office for another ‘final’ call. That is how the hours keep ticking by and you end up also having lunch at his apartment. “This is the last one, I promise” he swears after you both get up from the table, the leftover of two delicious dishes which appeared out of thin air, still in front of you.

You are not upset about it, not that much at least, you can understand this is his job and he needs to be on top of all these interviews and meetings —you only got a couple emails to respond and a call from Nick, but you guess this is what being in a team like Ferrari really is. Nonetheless, it does not mean it doesn’t annoy you a bit, you really had been looking forward to all the activities he had been talking to you about. Charles managed to distract you easily enough though, got you some Netflix, games and food so it all would pass in the blink of an eye.

“Oh, sixteen? That’s yours?!” you gasp, a bounce added to your step as you approach the red Formula One car placed at the entrance of the new room. The centre of your attention in a space filled with cars from every single year and brand you could ever imagine, the mirrors on the sides and covering the ceilings giving you all of the perspective of the machine.

“Of course it is, you didn’t know it was here?” Charles lets out a chuckle at your outburst, a grin now permanent on his lips as he follows you. The visit to the Prince of Monaco’s Car Collection had been worth it just for the look on your face, the fact that they kindly closed it for the two of you only adding an increased value to your reaction “They have the Alfa Romeo too”

Although you could discover what the Alfa Romeo thing meant if you moved your gaze a little bit to the left, you seemingly prefer to overlook that piece of information instead, completely entranced by the car in front of you “It looks so different...”

Possibly because everything around you is, indeed, different. After all, this is the first time you have had the opportunity to take step back and see the small details, away from the stress of the garage or the screams shaking the stands. That kind of atmosphere though, is irreplicable, the wave of emotions that fill your body as soon as you set foot into the circuit. Real or not, that is something you haven’t been able to get out of your head since this madness started.

You are unbelievable, seriously, after only two days of the break you are somehow already missing the track? Who could have told you that a month ago Wait, a month-?

“Does it? They have been making a lot of changes in the regulations lately, maybe...” Charles mumbles by your side, eyes ever so carefully looking over the car, and leaning over one of the signs on the ground, a half-smile pulling at his lips when he reads it “Oh, true, it’s the SF90! Oh my God, this one... Honestly, it wasn’t that bad of a year, I won a couple races too, but the car had so many problems. When it wasn’t the new tyres, it was the balance, then the understeering was awful at some point as well... It was just impossible to beat the Mercedes”

To finish off his explanation, Charles dismissively points with a tilt of his head to one of the Formula One cars sitting farther down the room, a Mercedes from who knows what year. Whatever, it illustrates his story just fine. Besides, this movement also allows for him to catch a peek of you from the corner of his eye, a big grin on your lips that you try to cover with a raised hand “Wait, are you laughing at me?”

“No! Of course not, I was just-” you splutter, looking up at him like a deer caught in headlights “It’s ‘cause you were, how do you say it? Like really into it? Contrated? I don’t know, I’m sorry!”

“No, no, I’m not telling you anything anymore! Go on, I’ll be quiet” Charles declares, not hearing you and acting so very much offended that you would be making fun of him. To better show his point, he starts stepping back and rises his arms to put some space between the two of you.

That is when you cannot hold you giggles anymore, the fact that he is trying to even avoid your eyes while you follow him “No, don’t say that, I promise I won’t laugh” you swear, taking a hold of his arm to stop him from walking away from you “C’mon, you’re the best tour guide!”

And maybe Charles takes that praise as a challenge, green eyes shining and cheeks full with a smile which he can’t supress no matter how hard he tries. Throughout the next few days, the Monegasque shows you the most beautiful spots of the city that saw him grow up —albeit on an intermittent basis, as he recounts the numerous trips he’s had to go on since he was a child—, a city that he adores and misses like no other. From the more touristic sites, the timetables of which he knows from A to Z and to which he has prepared private visits for each one of them, to the places that have a special place in his heart.

All of this without letting you pay a single dime, getting rejected each time you do so much as try to get your purse out, the little money you have gathered in your time in here resting inside without any prospects of ever getting spent.

It is a shame that when you are heading to one of the spots Charles has been looking forward to the most, you are caught red-handed. At first it is not as worrisome, a French fan approaches Charles for a photo and you politely step out of the way to let them take it, which catches the attention of a nearby couple that take this opportunity to ask you for a selfie —yeah, it still feels strange, even inside a dream. Maybe the husband talks a bit louder than needed about how surprised he is to see you here, or how happy he gets the moment Charles comes over to you, but after a couple of minutes you are being mobbed by half the people in Monaco. Flashes, screams and hands flying everywhere.

“It’s been a while since I last had to be rescued by the police...” Charles signs once he finally plops down on the sofa, changed into comfier clothes and the TV remote on his hand

You silently sort out the food on the small coffee table, still trying to wrap your head around what just happened, nerves tingling with the range of emotions this all brought up. It is not fear, that is something you seem to have somewhat become numb to, but something deeper. That is not something that had happened to you before, people are usually behind barriers on Grand Prixes, or they have someone better to pay attention to. This had felt truly overwhelming, suffocating even.

And yet, there it is, your lifeline. Again.

Charles’ hand comes to caress your hair after you spend a second too long in silence, hands tracing your strands as he brushes them away from your face, hand finally descending down to your neck and lightly massaging it. He had done something similar in the middle of that chaos, his hand on your arm, shoulder or back drawing tiny circles on your skin, a permanent hold that was supposed to prevent you from getting separated, but which had done so much more. “That smells great” the man whispers, leaning forward since you had chosen to knee in front of the couch.

The frown you didn’t feel forming relaxes as you look back at him, the thoughts previously swarming your head now vanished “Mm, yeah, it’s really tasty”

“What?! You’ve been stealing food while I was changing?” the Monegasque rightly accuses, disbelief painting his features

“You were taking so long!”

Charles seems to also know his way around the restaurants of Monaco, the stack of takeout you thought was way too much for two people ends up disappearing within minutes, the great amount of food you consumed leaving you to lazily lay on the couch, bellies full and watching TV after a night that had to be cut short.

The show you are watching is entertaining, you will give Charles that one, you have already gone through two and a half episodes and you can’t wait to see what happens next. It would have been even more amazing to not start it on season 3 though. It is true that Charles had started his offer to play it with a “Do you want to continue watching whatever-the-name-of-the-series-is?” and you had seen him scrolling all the way to the fourth episode of that same season without saying a word as well, but you had got accustomed to brush off things like this, like every other information from this reality that you don’t understand.

You nod and carry on with your ‘life’, that has been your modus operandi since the beginning, why change?

Thankfully, Charles gives you small explanations in the form of funny comments on every other scene, and although you don’t understand some of them, you laugh them off like anybody would do if he was looking at them the same way he does with you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you question at some point of the night, eyes fixed on the screen as if that could hide any of the unrecognizable feelings boiling within you

A chuckle slips out of his lips before he can begin answering, not fazed even slightly by your claim “You’re still so obsessed with the theme song...” Charles also meets your gaze straight on the moment you finally gather the courage to do so, not shying away from the way your big eyes stare at him “It’s cute”

A confession that catches you off-guard and to which your response is to smile and carry on, snuggling under a blanket which has made you slip that much closer to Charles. Summer nights in Monaco are cold.

About halfway into your vacation, Charles presents you with a different type of plan for the day “I’m going out with my mother and Arthur in a couple of hours... do you maybe want to come?” the way his green eyes look up at you in expectation betray his previous show of confidence, his gaze lowering to the toasts he is preparing.

The invite makes you stop in your track, hand half-way in the air with a piece of fruit you had tried to steal from one of the dishes. Honestly, from all the challenges you had expected this universe to throw at you today, not once would you have imagined that having lunch with Charles Lecler’s mom would be one of them, that’s for sure.

“Oh, your mother knows I’m here?” it is the stupidest question you could make, you are aware of it, but this seems so out of the blue —yes, you have apparently reached the point where jumping into a Formula One car feels more ordinary than whatever this is. But it’s because, like, you aren’t this close, are you? Yes, you flew with him, you are spending the break in his apartment, he has prepared your breakfast every single day, but-

“That you are staying here? Yeah, of course she knows” Charles answers, matter of fact, as if it was no big deal “But it’s okay, I know you get nervous with things like these, I can tell her you have a meeting or something”

Perhaps if the man had not been so understanding and given you such an easy way out, you would have accepted the outing, what is the worst that could have happened? That his mom was a wonderful person who had spent hours baking a typical pastry to gift you? If you had not felt bad enough this morning when declining Charles’ offer, now you sure were feeling like the worst person to ever walk on earth. Safe to say you almost tear up when you read the note she left you on the box: Enjoy your stay, my dear. I hope we’ll see each other soon. More so when his sons reveals he had to help her write it in English.

You miss your family that much more now, if that was possible.

Unfortunately, you do not encounter any other opportunity to meet Charles’ mother, the days flowing past you faster than you could have imagined. Charles has surprised you with organized trips to other cities near Monaco, from both Italy and France, every new sight he shows you more breathtaking than the last. The fact that this man, a Formula One driver for Ferrari nothing less, is swimming in money, taking the sweet little activities you had thought about to a whole other level.

Nonetheless, spending a bit more also becomes a need when you are trying to keep a low profile, neither of you want a repeat of what happened in Montecarlo —for more reasons than because it is dangerous. Which means that booking private terraces to watch the view is sometimes required, other times you get a tour through a closed section of the museum solely because they recognized him, or you, which is still something you are struggling to come to terms with, but you can’t complain.

Tonight, to properly finish off your stay in the country, Charles has invited you out to a fancy restaurant. It is built in the outskirts of Monaco, a place where the waves of the ocean are louder than the noises of the city. You get seated in open space that overlooks the sea, the quiet and elegant atmosphere of the place captivating you. You are thankful to whoever had prepared those suitcases which arrived at the apartment before you even knew you were visiting, because the black satin dress that was waiting for you inside one of them, is the perfect fit for the occasion.

The hunt for the perfect outfit had also brought a discovery that you couldn’t quite believe yet. Inside a white jewellery box that you had been carrying since the beginning and that you had not cared to open until today, you had found one of the most important pieces you ever owned, one you had been missing dearly: your grandmother’s favourite necklace. It had been a gift given to you many years ago, your grandmother’s promises of how it would make your wishes come true and protect you still echoing in your ears. Upon its discovery, you heart had skipped several beats, your hand snatching it from the box faster than you could think about it to bring it close to your chest, a place where it now proudly rested and that it would not ever leave again.

The only piece of a reality which appears evermore distant and unreachable each passing day.

The dinner is spent chatting away and tasting delicious dishes that you cannot pronounce the name of, your knight in shining armour —in this case, a navy-blue suit that fits him like a glove— saving you time and time again from embarrassing yourself trying. That gesture in itself being a blessing in disguise. It is fascinating watching Charles talk in French, sounding ever so charming speaking words you do not understand, his voice and demeanour changing when talking in his mother tongue. You have not learned a word in French, but if the hours you have spent staring at Charles talking counted, you would have the highest level.

That is some of the nonsense you keep thinking about in the way back to the apartment, your body comfortably relaxing back into the passenger seat of his Ferrari while the city lights keep flowing by your sides. The Monegasque takes his hand off the gearstick after reaching a red light, resting it atop your knee and gently squeezing it when you don’t peel your eyes off the window.

“Sleepy?” he queries in a soft voice, amused.

You shake your head in response, the “No” slipping from your lips too low to even hear it yourself. Your hand reflexively comes down to wrap around his in reassurance, an act which only manages to further confirm his suspicions.

Charles walks to your side to help you out of the car, the excuse of being sleepy —although the expensive wine and your high heels are playing a big role in your clumsy walk— useful enough for you to hold onto his arm in the way up to his apartment. The silence is nice too, calming despite the fact that it is hiding so many thoughts behind.

“So, did you have fun?” Charles is the first one to speak once you reach the parting point, even if it is only the middle of his living room and there is still time tomorrow before he takes you to the airport, it feels more important than that

“Yeah, I did, a lot. Thank you, Charles, for everything” you respond, the words coming straight from your heart, you are grateful for not only the material part of this vacation, but for how comfortable he has made you feel in this unknown reality. The man has truly made of your trip to Monaco an unforgettable experience, a memory that you will forever cherish. You hope he understand that.

Although he tries to downplay it, say how much of a good time he has had thanks to you and all of that, you are quick to shush him, repeating your thanks and not accepting any of the justifications he’s give. And he somehow lets you get away with it, that easily, a fond smile pulling at his lips while he looks down at you “Okay, okay... I’m just happy you are here, honestly”

Charles word’s startle you, your heart speeding to a hundred miles per hour in just a second. The man ignites this inexplicable feeling inside of you, one so familiar and foreign at the same time, slowly building inside of you, a warmth that threatens to overcome you at any second if you let it. This silence and closeness not helping you in the slightest.

Paired with these thoughts come other less comforting ones, a more logical part that warns you that you have been letting this go on for too long. You let your hold on Charles’s arm fall, instinctively taking a step back. This is too much, the wine must have been playing with your head, you have let this go on for over time and-

However, Charles doesn’t seem to agree with any of the thoughts boiling in your head, his hand following the movements of yours and catching it halfway, his fingers intertwining with yours. Not ready to let you go just yet. He can see the gears turning at full force inside your mind as well, hopes the gesture will stop you from overthinking it all and focus solely on this.

For you though, that train of thought isn’t as easy to reach, even less so when his touch has set your nerves alight. “Oh, yeah, me too! Well-, I mean, I’m happy to be here. The first day I thought I wouldn’t even see you in all ten days, but it’s been great ever since, I promise!” the tension of the moment is too much to handle, and it forces the first stupidity that comes to your mind out to break it

Charles tilts his head to the side, taking some extra time to process what you said “What?”

Sadly, instead of simply waiting for him to interpret your babbling, your big mouth keeps on talking “You were working, I completely understand! I mean, you’re in Ferrari, of course... I just got nervous at first, that’s all”

“Oh” the Monegasque simply says, his face void of any emotion as he watches you freaking out thinking you’ve upset him. You and your stupid brain that keeps making up excuses for a joke you had told to ease the tension, you should start thinking twice about it. The wine has also loosed up your tongue.

At some point Charles decides it is time to have some mercy on you and stop your monologue, a big grin making his eyes crinkle before he is using his hold on your hand to bring you in for a big hug — what a nice way to ask you to shut up.

“Seriously, this is driving me crazy...” he confesses with a giggle, tightening his arms around your body as you deflate in his hold, letting go of all the nerves that had so suddenly preyed on you “You know what happened? I prepared everything, arranged some visits and talked to some people, everything! And I thought: I’ll push all the meetings I have to Monday and Tuesday, so they won’t bother us at all, she’ll probably sleep until, like 2 p. m.” Charles narrates the plan he had so carefully drawn up for your visit, making a pause to lean back and see your reaction to all that happened behind the scenes before you came to the country “Well, turns out that someone, even after driving for 70 whole laps in Hungary and having not slept at all during the flight, just decided to wake up at 8 in the morning! Who does that?”

The belly laugh that escapes you is loud, cheeks hurting from the big smile that has managed to take over your face throughout Charles’ story, his expressions and gestures depicting how much it had surprised him to see you walking down the hall that morning. All dressed up and ready for the day, if you may add.

“Why do you think I took you to the Prince’s Car Collection that day? I thought, since she’s been pestering me for months about it, maybe that’ll make her forget she’s been locked away all morning”

“Aw, that’s so nice!” you compliment him, elongating the syllables and swaying him from side to side to further support your words, your hands still resting on his chest and his having claimed their place at your sides. You do not remember ever talking about the collection, but that is something that does not matter right now "You've been a great tour guide"

“I really am nice” Charles affirms with a smirk, like he cannot believe you didn't find that out earlier, and you can only nod at him in agreement. He has been nothing but amazing in the time you have known each other, you’ll give him that. "I don't know about the tour guide part though, you've been only laughing at me..."

You playfully hit his chest, smiles turning to giggles that give way to a comfortable silence, a moment to relax. Happiness is spilling out of every single pore of your skin as you look at each other with a silly grin on your lips, eyes analysing every feature of the other’s face and committing it to memory as if they were about to vanish in time. A strong hold on each other just in case.

You can see Charles debating wether to break the silence or not, a soft frown set in between his eyebrows while his eyes search for a sign in yours. His lips are pursed, the words that had been stuck in his mind for a while now about to finally be pronounced. However, a strange music beats him to it.

It promptly steals your attention from him, moment broken. Your head turns to the sound, recognizing where it seems to be coming from... your bedroom?

As if hypnotised, you step away from Charles, the Monegasque letting you go from his hold without putting up much of a fight —although he desperately wants to. Something inside of you pulling you towards the sound. The steps you take to the room seem endless, the heels clicking on the hardwood following your path and the noise getting louder, but when you open the door it all happens so fast. You somehow know exactly where it is coming from, hands digging with urgency inside the backpack you had taken to airport 10 days ago. Having come to kneel on the ground, you pull out a cloth bag and lay it out beside you, the realization that it is the same one Nick left for you in Hungary’s hotel and you had not even opened, being too vague for you to fully grasp it.

The music is louder now, your ears ringing with the stupid rhythm when you finally decide to empty all of its contents out on the floor for easier access. You find a lip balm, earphones, some papers and buried under all of it: a phone.

Another one. A phone you had never seen, the one Nick gave you at the start of this madness still secure in your bag. Where did it come from? Nick had said the bag contained the stuff you left behind at the track, but you sure as hell did not leave this.

You watch your hand stretching towards the device in slow motion, your mind pushing you forward but getting no response in return. The screen is upside down, the case vibrating against the floor and joining the cacophony of sounds that has been bouncing off your ears, a feeling of being underwater so awfully recognizable that you get dizzy just thinking about the last time you endured its consequences. The necklace burning in your chest.

What is this phone? Who is calling?

Your fingers tingle at the touch, the device turning in your hold ever so slowly to reveal the caller screen. At the top, written in big bold letters reads the contact's name you have been longing to see for so long:

DAD

A due reminder that none of this is real.

Author's note: Omg, this is so long, I got carried the fuck away with this one. As you have probably noticed it is not even proofread, if I keep it in my drafts any longer I'll keep adding to it. It ended up being as a kind of Charles' one shot thing so I hope you all enjoyed it. As always, any kind of interaction is greatly appreciated, thank you all so much for reading!

Also happy New Year to everyone!! This was supposed to be my Christmas present to all of you but it just kept going out of control.

Taglist: @purplephantomwolf @raye2000 @yuiiimd @drezzerk33 @leclercdream @homie0sapien @minkyungseokie @carlossainzwho @rewmuslupin @kyuupidwrites @raevyng @lazybot @gills-lounge @hiraethrhapsody @jjkclub @darleneslane @therealcap @aespie

#charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x you #formula one x reader #formula one x you #f1 imagine

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