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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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oddinary4bts · 4 months

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Chasing Cars | ch 4 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: the power outage is still power outing, curses, Jungkook being Jungkook, mentions of being really drunk and throwing up, explicit content: they talk about what happened in ch 3, teasing, some Mario Kart (yes, it has to be in the explicit content section lmao), hickeys, brat!reader, dom!Jungkook, big dick!Jungkook, degradation (he calls her a slut/pretty little slut), consent king Jeon Jungkook, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, jerking off, talks about having raw sex, protected sex, praise

☆word count: 9.5k

☆a/n: new chapterrrrrrr! Enjoy reading everyone <3 there's a tiny bit of angst if you squint your eyes really hard, but the real angst will hit much later on. Thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Friday, February 15th

You wake up slowly, with the rising sun. Your room is dark, cold, yet you’re snuggled close to Jungkook, whose body heat has been keeping you warm all night. He’s still asleep, mouth slightly parted, and you watch him for a few seconds before the events of last night come back to your mind, and you have to shut your eyes to try to forget.

It’s hard. His arm is still draped over you, and it twitches in his sleep. You try to push him away, but he wraps his arm around you tighter, nuzzling his face in your neck. It does something to you that you entirely can’t deal with, and you shut your eyes even harder, trying to ignore the way your heart is acting up in your chest.

You breathe in, the cold air taming the burning inside of you. You exhale slowly, and to your surprise, your heart finally decides to start calming down. You keep breathing deeply for a while, and you reckon it might have worked better than you expected because, next thing you know, you wake up with a start.

Jungkook is sitting next to you, and he offers you a lopsided grin as you meet his gaze, heart once again beating wildly.

“Morning, peach,” he greets you, voice gravelly with sleep.

You force yourself to sit up, and you stretch a yawn away. “Morning.”

“Slept well?”

There’s a teasing glint in his eyes, mischief laced with his words. You know you shouldn’t be surprised. Know Jungkook is probably going to turn you into a blushing mess even more now. Especially as he smirks, head cocking to the side while he awaits your answer.

“Yeah,” you answer, and you look towards the window as his eyes bore into your profile. You take a deep breath, another yawn moving through you before you’re able to look at him again. “Did you?”

“Better than I thought I would,” he admits, and he stretches before lying back down, pulling the covers to his face. It’s adorable, in a way Jeon Jungkook should never be, and you force yourself to not let it get to your mind as he continues, “I usually sleep like shit when I sleep with someone.”

You purse your lips, refusing to give meaning to his words as you say, “Maybe last night helped.”

The lopsided smile is back, and he nods once, sighing in content. “We should lose power more often.”

In the hopes that power would come back during the night, you plugged in your phone before going to sleep. You reach for it on the night table, and even though your room is still freezing, you’re still taken aback that the power is still out.

“Well, we still don’t have any,” you inform him.

He glances at you. “Then we should go back to sleep.”

At that, you snort, shaking your head. Even though your battery is low, you still go to your emails, trying to see if you received anything from your professor.

What you find is a college-wide email informing the students that all college activities are cancelled today and through the weekend, to start again on Monday. Your gaze widens before you glance at Jungkook.

“Power is still out in college, too,” you tell him. “So, no class.”

Jungkook’s smile only grows wider, and he opens his arms for you to come cuddle again. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Your heart is warm. A hearth, in which a small fire has started to burn. It’s soft, cozy, and you worry at your bottom lip as you survey Jungkook. As you try to figure out when you crossed the line, and if it’s too late to pull back.

You figure you can decide later when the power is back on and this bubble outside of time will have burst, and you lie back next to him. His arms, still wide open, look far too inviting, and it takes you about five seconds before you’re scooching into his embrace.

He sighs in content. “You know,” he lets out. “If Tae learns, I’m a dead man.”

Reality crashes harder than a tsunami on a beach, and you try to pull away. Jungkook holds onto you, even when you push on his chest.

“I was just going to say,” he adds so you’d stop pushing him, “that we should keep this between us.”

You nod against him as you finally stop trying to pull away. “Yes, I agree.”

“Good.”

And Tae doesn’t cross your mind for the rest of the morning. Eventually, you and Jungkook decide to move out of the safe comfort of the covers, needing to eat something before you die, as Jungkook jokes. It’s a quick trip to the kitchen before you figure your room is far warmer than the rest of the apartment. You retreat with fruits, while Jungkook grabs a bowl of the food he cooked yesterday.

Watching him eat it cold makes you gag, so you turn away from him to focus on eating your apple and blueberries.

“What?” he says, and he sounds like his mouth is full.

“How can you even be eating that?”

There are a few seconds of silence, while he clearly swallows his bite. “What’s wrong with it?”

You scrunch up your nose in disgust, glancing at him over your shoulder. His gaze is narrowed, eyebrows bunched together over his eyes as he fakes offence, or perhaps suspicion. It makes you snort, and you look away from him before you speak again.

“It’s cold.”

“Wow, is it?” he teases. “Never would have noticed.”

You roll your eyes, forcing your laugh down because Jeon Jungkook shouldn’t be making you laugh anyway. Silence replaces the conversation, and you finish eating in peace, watching the world outside the window.

It looks straight out of a fairy tale. The trees are covered in a thick coat of ice, and they glisten in the morning light as if they are made of glass. It’s beautiful, in an unforgiving way, and you find peace in their contemplation.

Peace in this comfortable silence with Jungkook.

By the time you’re done eating, Jungkook has wolfed down the bowl he made for himself, and you both return to the kitchen to put away the dishes you’d used. Jungkook leans against the counter while you rinse them, arms folded on his chest.

“What should we do today?” he asks.

You cock an eyebrow. “We?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “Unless you want to be alone.”

Your eyes dart to him quickly, before returning to the safety of the spot where the jet of water hits the bowl you’re holding. “What do you want to do?”

“We could go for a car ride,” he suggests. “To charge up our phones.”

“Don’t you think the roads are a little too dangerous right now?”

He plays with his piercing as he frowns slightly, clearly not having thought about this. “Right.” You watch as the cogs work in his brain, and you can’t help the smile that slowly grows on your lips when his features light up. “We can just stay parked somewhere.”

“We’d still have to get there.”

He furrows his brows. “I’m sure they’ve put salt on the streets, we should be okay.”

What he doesn’t know is that you don’t need convincing. You’ve already decided you’d go, mostly because you do need to charge your phone. Not because you really need it right now, but just because the thought of not having it with you feels strange.

“We’re going?” Jungkook presses as you remain silent.

He must be immune to the teasing glint you know for a fact has taken over your eyes. You sigh, before nodding once. “Sure.”

He beams. “Let’s go!”

His enthusiasm makes you laugh, and you turn the tap off before turning to watch him as he’s leaving the kitchen.

“Shouldn’t we brush our teeth and freshen up first?”

He stops in his tracks. “Right.” He turns, flashing you a grin that reveals the same dimples you noticed yesterday. “Good luck with taking a shower, though.”

You snort. “Let’s just brush our teeth.”

Which is what you do, Jungkook pushing you with his hips as you stand next to him. You flip him off, and his eyes sparkle as he looks at you.

It stabs right through your heart, and you look away, searching for salvation on the tiles of the floor. It does nothing – reality is just a heartbeat away, and no matter how easy it is with Jungkook right now, you’re very aware that the moment the world returns to normalcy, your relationship with him will too.

And you still don’t understand where this is coming from. Where this easy complicity between you comes from, and why you’ve never really noticed before. Was it because of Taehyung?

It’s a question you ask yourself for the next hour, as you sit in Jungkook’s car listening to music and belting out tunes even though you’re not half the singer that he is. He doesn’t mention it, only laughs along with you before asking you stupid questions about your past, about Taehyung when you grew up and why you decided to move in with them.

He clearly doesn’t like you saying that it was just because it was convenient. It’s clear as spring water, and he pouts slightly as he says, “Not even for me?”

You punch him in the shoulder. “I didn’t know you when I moved in.”

“But now you do,” he teases, smirk moving on his lips.

There’s more meaning to his words than it seems, and you feel blush creeping on your cheeks. “Do I?”

“I’d say watching me jerk off and come is a good way to get to know me, no?”

“Jungkook!”

He laughs like a child as you flush furiously purple, trying to ignore how, as a matter of fact, his words are actually turning you on. You don’t want to think about last night, just want to focus on the now, on this unexpected friendship.

Jungkook has other plans for you, because he says, “Don’t tell me you didn’t like it.”

You glare at him. “Shut up.”

“You’re blushing.”

If possible, your glare intensifies. “Shut the fuck up.”

He dissolves in a fit of giggles that makes your heart skip a beat, and you roll your eyes before glancing at your phone.

“Mine’s full now,” you mutter.

For a reason you don’t quite understand, Jungkook has two phone cords in his car, both of them working to charge. He glances at his phone, shaking his head.

“You’re going to be stuck with me for longer, peach,” he tells you mischievously. “Mine’s only on 75%.”

“Do you really need it full?”

He offers you an innocent smile. “Definitely.”

Your phone buzzes, and you both glance towards it. You’ve received a text from Ria, in the group chat you share with the whole friend group. She’s asking how everyone’s surviving, and if anyone needs to crash at the dorm, which for some reason, is the only place on campus that still has power.

You hesitate for half a heartbeat before turning your phone off.

*****

Today was fun, albeit cold. After charging your phones in Jungkook’s car, you took a long walk through campus, just talking about everything and nothing as if you’d always been close.

As if he didn’t finger you with his cum last night.

Whenever the thought resurfaces, it makes you startle, and Jungkook smirks. Because he knows – obviously he does.

He knows the effect he has on you. You think he sees how you tense whenever his hand touches yours, whenever he stands just a little too close. And maybe that’s why you avoided going home for a long time, because you’re afraid that being stuck between four walls with him again will make you go insane.

Alas, when you both grow hungry sometime in the afternoon, you can’t force him to stay out, so you follow him home, ignoring the weight of your turned-off phone in your pocket.

Fortunately enough, on all the journey walking around campus, you didn’t run into anyone from your friend group. Somehow, you were afraid that you would – what would they think if they saw you hanging out with Jungkook?

More importantly, what would Hoseok think? Maybe it makes you an asshole, but in the moment, you don’t really care. You are entirely focused on Jungkook, mostly because it’s easy to be entirely focused on him. As if he’s the full moon in a summer night sky – he makes all the stars hard to see, as he shines too bright for their glow to be noticeable.

You sigh as you’re settled in the kitchen, door closed as Jungkook reheats something on the stove. It’s not extremely cold in the apartment, but keeping the door shut does help with keeping the kitchen warm enough to be bearable with only a thick sweater on.

You think Jungkook is crazy. He’s only wearing a beige and indigo athletic Nike vest, and he’s left it unzipped because he claimed he was getting too warm. Underneath, a white t-shirt rests loosely around his waist, and you’ve been doing your best to forget just how dainty his waist is, under all the clothes.

“See, we’re going to build up your heat tolerance,” he says over his shoulder, and he flashes you a grin before focusing on what he’s reheating again.

“Good luck with that,” you answer, chuckling. “I’ve tried before, and nothing works.”

“You and Tae really are the worst at that,” Jungkook teases, and you roll your eyes even if he can’t see.

Indeed, he’s turned his head towards the window, and he watches the sun as it gets lower in the sky, nearing the horizon. You’re afraid of when it’ll be gone under; you’re afraid it’ll elicit sinful activities between you and Jungkook again.

Afraid, yet with a certain kind of apprehension to it. Perhaps because it’s not fear of him, but rather fear of yourself.

It’s hard to remember that he’s Taehyung’s best friend when you’re alone with him like this.

Especially when he sets a steaming bowl of food in front of you, a wicked smile on his lips as he forces you to eat. As you choke on it, the heat too much to handle for you. Jungkook laughs out loud before handing you a glass of ice-cold water.

It barely helps, and the heat remains for a while as you eat, and even more so as you’re done, watching Jungkook eating a second portion as if he hasn’t eaten the first one in record time. You’re playing music on your phone, your usual study playlist – lo-fi beats – and Jungkook seems to like it. He’s been nodding his head to the music as he devoured his bowl.

When he finishes eating, sitting back in his chair as he rests a hand on his stomach, he once again offers you the wide grin. The sun is setting now – the whole kitchen is turning to gold, and you hate that the glow makes him look ethereal, like he’s a piece of heaven fallen to Earth for you to enjoy.

“Do you want to wash yourself?” Jungkook asks out of the blue. You cock an eyebrow in question, but before you’ve had a chance to say anything, he adds, “We could warm some water on the stove and use that to wash ourselves.”

Your eyes widen. “That’s actually a good idea.”

“Come on, peach,” he lets out, and he chuckles as he shakes his head, a little condescendingly. “You really think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

Stupid wouldn’t be the word that you’d use. Arrogant, maybe. Too full of himself, for sure. But you don’t think that saying so would be a good idea, so you only shrug.

“Aren’t you?”

He bursts out laughing, that goofy smile that makes your heart skip beats in your chest as if you’re twelve and it’s the first time you’re speaking to a guy. “I’m not, thank you very much. I wouldn’t be in college if I was.”

“Lots of stupid people are in college,” you point out mischievously.

He tuts. “I’d thought by now you’d know I’m not a lot of people, peach.” He cocks his head to the side, and his eyes drop to your lips. “You get fingered by a lot of guys like that?”

You turn to fire. “Excuse me?”

And the goofy smile returns, as if he didn’t just say the crudest sentence in the world. “Just teasing you.”

You narrow your eyes but don’t find any retort to that. It makes Jungkook’s grin widen, and then he gets up to bring your bowl and his to the sink. As he’s rinsing them, he offers you a look.

“Should I reheat some water then?” he asks, the teasing tone gone.

You try a look towards him, but standing there, the sun forms too much of an aura around him, so you can barely see him even if you squint your eyes.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

“One pot for you and one for me, then!”

His statement makes you laugh, and you get up to actually help him get the pots on the stove. You turn the gas on, using the lighter so that the flames catch, and soon the water is heating up, and the prospect of freshening up brings a smile to your lips.

You notice Jungkook looking at it, features turning somber. And he’s quick to look away. Quick to focus on where the sun dipped under the horizon, watching the clouds turning to gold above.

“Have you spoken to Tae today?” he asks, and the reminder of your brother makes you clench your jaw, ever so slightly.

“No,” you admit. You think he’ll say more, but he remains silent. So you take it upon yourself to make conversation, and you ask, “Have you?”

He shrugs. “Just told him the power is still out.”

“Mmh.”

The silence is deafening then – you can barely hear it over the clamour in your thoughts. And you don’t know where it’s coming from, only that the more the silence stretches, the more you grow unsteady on your feet.

“How did you guys meet?” you ask, voice sounding a little strained.

Jungkook shoots you a look. “He didn’t tell you?”

You purse your lips and shake your head no, which earns you a chuckle from him. It makes you grow suspicious, and you narrow your gaze. “What?”

“Nothing.” He pauses, observes your features for a moment with those big doe eyes of his before he says, “We met Frosh week.”

You remain silent, waiting for him to continue.

“He was pissed out drunk in a bush,” Jungkook admits, and his eyes fog up with the memories as he looks away from you. “Jimin is the one that found him first. And mind you, I only knew Jimin for a few days then, since we were dorm roommates.”

But you know how easy friendship forms in that Frosh week. You and Nabi are a good example of it after all.

“We couldn’t find anyone who knew him, so we brought him back to the dorm. He threw up in Jimin’s bed, and the next day he suggested grabbing breakfast together, as a thank you for taking care of him.”

Jungkook smiles fondly, and his gaze connects with yours. “And the rest is history.”

It sure is. You’re not really sure where you come into this story – if you should come into it at all. Because Jungkook and Taehyung really are close – what would Taehyung say if he knew what Jungkook and you did?

It’s a scary thought, one that you’ve remedied with Jungkook already. You just have to not tell Taehyung, simple as that.

“I think the water is ready,” Jungkook admits, and he dips his fingers in one of the pots. He nods, before saying, “You can grab yours, and go to the bathroom. I’ll clean up in my room.”

“Don’t you need soap?”

He raises an eyebrow. “You know soap can be carried outside of a bathroom? Like, it’s not confined-“

His sentence dies as you punch him in the chest, and he starts laughing as you curse him under your breath, grabbing the pot.

“Open the door for me,” you grumble as you walk towards it.

“Please?”

You look up to the water-stained ceiling. “Are you for real?”

“Yes.”

You debate silently, though you know that you’ll cave in.

You reckon you’ll always cave in where Jungkook is concerned.

“Can you please open the door for me?” you ask, and you scold yourself internally for not being able to stand your ground.

“Of course, peach,” he says, grinning widely. “I can actually carry that to the bathroom for you, I need to grab soap and a towel anyway.”

He walks towards you, gently taking the pot out of your hands, so you end up opening the door for him, begrudgingly following him to the bathroom. You follow him in, watching him as he carefully puts the pot down in the sink.

“Here you go,” he says as he shoots you a look over his shoulder.

You can’t help but look away as your gazes connect, before mumbling, “Thank you.”

“You could at least sound happy about it,” he teases. You roll your eyes, though a smile teases the corners of your lips. Jungkook taps your cheek, and you bristle, stepping away from him.

If he cares he doesn’t show it, instead moving to grab a washcloth and his shower gel.

Are you disappointed to see him go? Maybe. But you don’t let it show, instead shutting the door behind him, making sure to lock it before you strip out of your clothes to wash up.

It’s freezing, and you hate every second of it, so you make it quick, washing the most strategic and important body parts. When you’re done, you move to grab your clean clothes from the…

You never grabbed clean clothes, did you?

You curse under your breath, mostly cursing Jungkook for making you so stupid around him. You hate it - you feel like you lose most of your brain cells when he’s around. But you can’t help it, and you tightly wrap yourself in a towel as you pray to the God above, if there’s one, to not make you run into Jungkook as you walk back to your room.

Of course, Jungkook opens the door to his room the second you are in front of it. You startle, freezing like a deer in headlights, and Jungkook’s gaze dips to your legs.

You hate the smirk growing on his lips the second it appears.

“What’s got you walking around naked in this temperature?”

Though you reckon his gaze warms you up in an instant, you reply, “Fuck off, I just forgot to get clean clothes.”

He leans against his doorframe, slipping his hands in the pocket of his grey sweatpants. He looks the perfect picture of male insolence, and fuck, it does things to you that it shouldn’t.

Like, make you remember that he fingered you with his cum yesterday. Thinking about it, it was a really stupid thing to do, but you hadn’t been able to resist…

And from the way he’s eyeing you right now, you highly doubt you’ll be able to resist him again. You realize then that the apartment is darkening, that soon you’ll have to light up the candles…

You’re sinking in quicksands, aren’t you?

“How unfortunate,” Jungkook comments, always so arrogant.

“I said it already, but do really fuck off, JK,” you reply.

He tilts his head to the side - the predator, and you, its next meal. “That’s not what you were saying yesterday.”

You blush, bright scarlet taking over your features, and you roll your eyes, choosing to ignore his comment as you finish walking to your room.

“That’s what I thought,” he says behind you, and you flip him off over your shoulder, which makes him laugh that boyish laugh that does things to you.

You lean against the bedroom door once you get in, heart beating out of your chest, cursing power for going out, and cursing your brother for choosing to do a semester abroad.

It’s useless - the cursing, that is. Because it won’t change anything, and a small, tiny, minuscule part of you doesn’t want it to… so you curse yourself too for good measure.

By the time you finally emerge from your bedroom, the sun has fully set, and you’ve been using your phone as a flashlight. Jungkook is sitting in the living room, playing on his Switch, which apparently still has battery, and he glances at you as you approach.

“Want to play a game?” he asks, offering you a small smile.

His features are lit from the screen, and he looks soft, his big eyes slightly crinkling at the corners. You hold in your own smile, instead cocking an eyebrow.

“So that I can beat your ass?” you say.

You watch as fire catches in his gaze, and you think he’s about to burn you to the spot. “Oh, you wanna play this game?” he says, his voice suddenly an octave lower.

A thrilled shiver runs down your spine, and you finish crossing the distance between you and him, sitting next to him. The leather couch is freezing, but you hold your wince in as you motion to the Switch.

“You think you can beat my ass?” he asks.

“I know I can.”

He smirks, leaning back on the couch. He rests his head against the backrest, turning his head towards you. “Oh, peach,” he breathes out. “You’re cute when you try to be sassy.”

You widen your gaze. “Try to be sassy! I’m serious, I’ll beat your ass.”

“In any game?” he asks, and his eyes dip to your lips.

“Mario Kart,” you say, folding your arms on your chest.

You’re wearing a thick sweater, yet it doesn’t stop Jungkook from looking down, and you know exactly what he’s seeing - you, with your legs spread wide open for him like they were yesterday.

“Winner gets head,” he says, and you really think you’re about to catch fire.

“What about Tae?”

You can’t help the question. Because you don’t want to do that to your brother, but you’ve been unable to resist. You know shame and guilt will catch up to you one day - hell, Ria will never let you live it down if she learns what’s already happened.

Jungkook shrugs. “I don’t think it’d make any difference after yesterday.”

“So you want me to choke on your dick?”

Night and you and Jeon Jungkook really don’t mix well, do they? Because you want him. You want him so bad right now you think you’re about to go insane, yet you know you shouldn’t.

“Fuck, peach.” He chuckles. “I want to know if you taste as good as you look.”

You wet your lips, and his eyes fall to your mouth, staying there as you say, “Well then, winner gets head,” you murmur, and you think he’s about to say ‘fuck it’ and jump on you.

You really do think he won’t be able to resist, and frankly, you don’t want him to. You feel yourself leaning forward, a moth to the flame, but Jungkook clears his throat, and his eyes shoot to yours.

“Deal.”

Jungkook sets up the game, and since you can’t play multiplayer thanks to the power being out and the TV not functioning, you settle on whoever gets first place first. Which you reckon is stupid - getting first place when you’re playing against the AI isn’t really an impressive feat.

You shiver before Jungkook starts his race, and he pauses the game to glance at you. “Do you want to go to your room?”

You cock an eyebrow. “Too excited to play here?”

He rolls his eyes, though a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “No, you’re freezing, and I figured, since your room is the smallest, if we do like yesterday, we can probably keep it warm. Or at least warmer than here.” His last words are accompanied by a vague motion of his hand encompassing the living room, and you reckon he does have a point.

“Sure then,” you say, nodding once.

You get up from the couch, and Jungkook quickly follows you. He’s so close, looming behind you like he’s the predator about to pounce on its prey, and you shudder with delight, warmth pooling in your lower stomach.

You think he knows. You’re convinced he does, because a few minutes later, when you’re in your room with the candles on, sitting on your bed, he leans against the wall, abandoning his Switch to the side.

“What are you doing?”

“It’s so easy to get into your bed, peach,” he teases, and you startle when one of his large hands lightly grazes your thigh.

You swat it away without an ounce of regret, even though the spot he touched feels like it’s been hit by lightning. “Are you saying I’m easy?”

His mouth falls open and he looks surprised, even maybe a little apologetic. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

The wicked smile you offer him makes him chuckle as he realizes you were teasing him, and he grabs his Switch, his brow creasing a little with the frown that adorns his features from concentrating. It’s cute. You reckon it’s adorable, and you reckon you shouldn’t feel that way about your brother’s best friend, so you push the thought as far away as you can.

It’s not like Jungkook is the kind of guy you should feel endearment for. Because you know he’d only break your heart - he’s not the most popular guy on campus for nothing, after all.

“Ready?” he tells you.

You nod. “Good luck.”

He doesn’t need it. He gets first place, and he puts his Switch down on the bed as you realize what it means.

But you’re not going to give in so easily to him, will you?

“If I get first place, too, then this doesn’t count.”

He fake-glares at you, but he shrugs. “Alright. Let’s see if you can get first place.”

The way he says it is ominous, and you gulp, cheeks flushing with pink as you grab the Switch. As per always, you choose Peach as your character, which obviously earns you a snicker from Jungkook, but you don’t mind.

Maybe because you’re starting to like when he calls you peach.

You easily start the race in the first position, Peach racing and drifting ahead of the AI-controlled characters. Jungkook shifts next to you, attracting your attention, and you almost run into a wall, thankfully recovering quickly.

It doesn’t last long. Because next time he shifts, Jungkook brushes your thigh, and you just know he has a wicked smirk on his lips without having to look at him.

“Stop,” you say through gritted teeth.

“Or what?” he purrs, and you nudge him with an elbow. He just laughs, his hand now resting flatly on your thigh. “Got trouble focusing?”

“You’re cheating,” you whine, and you’re hit by a blue shell which puts you back a few positions.

“Am I?” he breathes out.

You sigh as he leans closer to you, and his nose brushes your cheek. Instinctively, you tilt your head to the side, and he chuckles as he pushes your hair off your shoulder, before leaning even closer.

His lips ghost on your neck, and your eyes flutter close, the Switch entirely forgotten in your hands.

“Jungkook…”

His tongue darts out, tasting you, and then he sucks a hickey on your skin. “What?”

“What are you doing?” you ask, voice barely over a whisper.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about my fingers inside of you,” he says, huskily. “All fucking day.” He nibbles at your earlobe, and you let out a breathy sound that makes him chuckle again. “Just been thinking about how you’d feel on my dick too.”

“Fuck.”

“I know.” He kisses your jaw, and then pulls away, sitting back against the wall. “I think you lost.”

You open your eyes, realizing that you’re still holding the Switch. He’s right – the AIs have finished while Jungkook was teasing you, and you stare at the screen for a few seconds before meeting his gaze.

He looks victorious, happy with himself. You want to wipe the smirk off his lips, so you put down the Switch on the bed, kneeling next to him.

“So you want me to suck your dick now?” you say, voice low, and you drag a hand on his thigh.

His tongue toys with his piercings. “Well, wasn’t that the deal?”

Emboldened, you straddle his lap, and you wrap a hand around his throat for support. You feel him swallow, and you lean closer, watching as the smirk slowly disappears from his lips.

“Was it?”

He gulps. He fucking gulps, and you can’t help but bite your lower lip. Even though the room is cold, you feel warm, a tingly sensation slowly taking over your entire body. His eyes fall to your mouth, and it takes him a few seconds before he says, “Yes.”

You have him right where you want him to be. “Damn, who knew Jeon Jungkook wanted me so bad?”

You lean in, brushing your lips on his, tongue darting out to play with his piercings. He doesn’t move, doesn’t do anything, though you can tell that he wants to touch you.

Maybe because you’re perched on his erection.

“Maybe Tae should have left before, mmh?” you continue. “Maybe you wouldn’t be so desperate…”

Jungkook grabs your waist, spinning you around dizzyingly until you’re on the bed and he’s hovering over you. “Enough,” he says, voice rough.

You don’t lose the smirk. “Or what?”

He wets his lips and then leans in. “I’m going to have so much fun wiping that smirk from your lips, peach.”

“Oh, will you now?” you fire back. “Better get into action then.”

One of his hands grabs the side of your head, tightening around your hair, and he forces you to turn your head to the side. He leaves wet kisses down your neck and then moves back up to your jaw.

“If only Tae knew how much of a slut you are,” Jungkook says. “A pretty little slut.” Your smirk wavers as he pushes your legs apart with a knee. “I wonder, are you already soaked for me, mmh?”

“Why don’t you find out?”

He chuckles darkly. “Fucking hell, you really are driving me crazy.”

And even though you shouldn’t, even though Jungkook is your older brother’s best friend, even though you know guilt will eventually catch up to you, you say, “Then act on it, JK. Show me just how crazy I’m making you feel.”

His mouth collides with yours with force, and you immediately reach up, running your hands through his hair. He sucks on your tongue, earning a moan from you, and he grunts as you pull on his hair, the soft strands feeling like silk on your fingers.

He grinds into you, and you feel the powerful length of him rub against you. You know he’ll stretch you wide open, and you want him so bad it almost hurts.

You think you’ve wanted him for months already. Yesterday, you could blame it on the alcohol, on your inhibition being altered, but today… Today you know it’s always been about the tattoos, the piercings, and the shameless flirting.

You’ve been in Jungkook’s orbit ever since September – you were bound to crash into him someday.

Jungkook pulls away to meet your gaze. The weight of his body on yours feels right – better than Hoseok’s ever felt. The thought douses you, and you think Jungkook notices.

You know he does, because he says, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

Your eyes flit around his features for a time – his nose, his mouth, the mole underneath his lips, his left eye, the scar on his cheek. They eventually settle on his lip piercings.

“Are you getting insecure?” you tease. Because it’s all that you know how to do, the only way you can think of pushing the vulnerability away.

His tongue pokes at his cheek, and he presses another searing kiss on your lips. You can’t help but moan softly as he grinds again, and you instinctively wrap your legs around him, your arms circling his neck as well.

When he pulls away next, it’s to rest his forehead against yours. You breathe the same air for a few seconds, until he says, “Consent is hot, peach. Tell me you want it, or I’m stopping now.”

“I want it, JK,” you answer. “I want you to fuck me dumb until my room isn’t cold anymore.”

Jungkook straightens, kneeling between your legs. The candles cast flickering lights on his honey skin, and you watch unblinkingly as he takes off his shirt.

He’s beautiful. You realized that yesterday, though you didn’t see him without the shirt. But he’s truly beautiful, all muscle and delicate waist, and his skin glows golden under the light of the candles. His brown nipples are perked prettily on his chest, and you want to touch him, want to drag your hands over every powerful line of his body.

“Shit, it’s fucking cold,” he says, and he quickly bends down again.

You grab the blankets, pulling them on top of him. Without any trace of hesitation, you rest your hands on his back, and you lightly scratch him with your nails.

“Then we better get you warmed up,” you purr.

You don’t need to say it twice. Jungkook finds your mouth again, and he grunts as you dig your nails in his skin, before releasing the pressure. He then goes down to your jaw, down your neck, and he disappears under the covers, spreading your legs wide open with his large hands.

“Can I take these off?” his muffled voice says from beneath the blankets.

You pull enough on the covers to see his face, big doe eyes awaiting your consent. “Yes.”

He smirks wickedly. “Good.”

He’s quick to rid you of your pants. He leaves your panties on, his large hands caressing your thighs as he settles between your legs. You know he’s going to eat you out, and you think you’ll go insane. But nothing could have prepared you for how much of a tease he is.

Indeed, Jungkook presses light kisses on the insides of your thighs, mouth ghosting over where you need him the most, never once giving in to your desires. You’re soaking wet, painfully so by the time you groan, hand flying to his hair as you try to push his head where you want him.

He resists, chuckling darkly. “Growing a little impatient?”

“Eat me out,” you answer breathlessly. “Fuck.”

“Why should I?” He bites the inside of your thigh. “I love watching you squirm under me.”

You whine, yet this time, he licks the wet spot on your panties. Your thighs instinctively close, and he forces them wide open again.

“Don’t move,” he orders.

You try to obey. You really do, but when he pushes your panties to the side and sucks on your clit, your back arches off the bed.

“Jungkook,” you breathe out.

He doesn’t answer, too busy pushing his tongue inside you, parting your folds easily. You moan, and your grip on his hair tightens, though you keep him close. And he doesn’t seem like he wants to pull away. He starts making out with your pussy, squelching sounds coming from between your legs with every swipe of his tongue.

Soon, he gets bored of pushing his tongue in and out of you, and he moves back to your clit, circling it unforgivingly. He’s good, that much you’ll admit, and when he circles your entrance with one long finger, you moan again.

“You want it?” he asks, pulling away just long enough to voice the words.

He’s right back on your clit a fraction of a second later, and he sucks on it, flicking the sensitive bud with his tongue.

You feel the orgasm. It’s still far, but it’s on the horizon of your conscience, and you know it’ll hit good once it does. So you say, “Please, Jungkook.”

He doesn’t disappoint. He pushes his finger in, arches it to rub that sweet spot inside of you in time with the motions of his tongue on your clit. You grind in his face by reflex, and he grunts against you as you do so, resting his tongue flat on your clit so that you can pleasure yourself on his face.

He must know it’s not enough. Because after a few seconds of it, he starts moving his face from side to side, and the orgasm looms closer, aiming for you at the speed of light.

It hits when Jungkook pushes a second finger in, stretching you, and your walls clench hard against his digits, though he keeps on pushing them in and out of you in a steady rhythm. He sucks on your clit as you come, and you think you’ve moaned his name at least twice by the time he finally pulls away, drying his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Shit, peach,” he says, and you watch him through the ecstasy blurring your gaze. “You taste so fucking good.”

As if he wants to show you, he captures your mouth in a kiss. You taste yourself, but you’re too fucked out to be able to agree or disagree with him. All you can do is moan in his mouth, and he swallows it with a swipe of his tongue.

And as he keeps kissing you, keeps branding himself in your mouth, you run your hand on his body, blood boiling from the sheer strength that you know he has. You reach for the band of his sweatpants, going lower to wrap your hand around his clothed length.

He’s big and heavy in your hand.

Mostly, he’s not wearing any underwear. Or if he is, they are extremely loose, because you’re able to wrap your fingers around him even through the sweatpants. He bucks his hips, and you tighten your hold.

“Why don’t you put that pretty hand under the clothes, mmh?” he teases against your jaw, before he goes to nibbling on your ear. “I’ve been wanting to feel it wrapped around my cock.”

You don’t hesitate. You move back up to the band of his sweatpants, and you quickly push your hand in. You sigh in delight as you find he’s not wearing any underwear, fingers grazing over the velvety softness of his length. He hisses but doesn’t say anything as you test the waters, slowly grabbing his dick.

You lightly stroke him, and he bucks his hips, trying to fuck your hand.

“Impatient, aren’t you?” you tease him, and he bites at your jaw.

“I’ve been wanting you for a really long time, peach.”

His words make your heart pause in your chest. Because you feel like there’s a deeper meaning, like it isn’t just shameless flirting in the heat of the action. It reminds you of the kiss yesterday, of the way he’d pulled you on his lap with no other intention than to kiss you.

And it makes you tighten your grip on his dick, and he grunts as you start jerking him off faster. But it’s awkward and clumsy with the sweatpants on, so you pull your hand out after a few seconds.

“Take these off,” you say, and he immediately kneels to obey, taking off his sweatpants quickly before resuming his position between your legs.

You’re not sure you were prepared for the sight of Jeon Jungkook fully naked in your bed. Though goosebumps prick at his skin from the cold, he still looks devilish, like he’s about to drag you to hell. His dick stands proud and tall, leaking precum, and the muscles of his thighs strain against his skin.

He’s big. And not just his dick. Jungkook works out a lot, spends hours every week at the gym, and it truly shows in every angle of him. He looks sculpted in marble, a perfect body that accentuates the beauty of his features, that contradicts the innocence of his big eyes.

Or maybe what truly contradicts it is the way he fists his cock, jerking off quickly as he eyes you. As he stares you down, and you feel ready to go all over again just from the sight of it.

“You have condoms?” he asks, and he grunts as he keeps jerking himself off.

You have half a thought to tell him to keep going, to come all over you, but you want it too much to resist. So you motion to your night table, saying, “Bottom drawer.”

He nods appreciatively, letting go of his cock so that he can bend and rummage through the drawer until he finds the condoms. He winces as he straightens, a tinfoil package in hand.

“Pretty sure that’s going to be too tight for me.”

You roll your eyes. “Condoms stretch, you know that?”

“Not enough,” he says, flicking your nose teasingly. “But I don’t think we should go raw, so that’ll do.”

Yet, the thought of going raw with him… You grab a hold of his wrist before he’s able to start unrolling the condom on his dick, and he cocks an eyebrow as he meets your gaze.

“Are you clean?”

You see him gulp. Indeed, his throat bobs, and he tilts his head to the side. “Got tested last week,” he admits. “But I really don’t think we should go raw.”

“I’m clean.”

“You’ve been fucking that other guy,” Jungkook says.

“We always wear protection.”

Jungkook purses his lips, taking a deep breath. “Honestly peach, I think I wouldn’t last a minute if I fucked you raw right now. Let me put the condom on.”

He says it in a stern way that makes you let go of his wrist. You feel bad, wondering if you were pushing a boundary, but Jungkook doesn’t seem like he notices. Indeed, he busies himself with putting the condom on, rolling it down his dick, and he winces in pain once it’s all the way down.

“That shit’s fucking tight,” he comments, and then he positions himself between your legs again. His large hands find your thighs, and he caresses up and down once before meeting your gaze. “Are you okay?” he asks, with no lust or desire or anything other than concern for you.

Because of course, he’d notice that you’re feeling bad.

“Sorry if I was insisting…” you say, vaguely motioning to his dick.

He looks down at himself. “About the condom?” He waits for you to nod your head before he says anything else. “Peach, don’t worry about it. I’m seriously close right now, which is really fucking weird, and I just want to be able to make you feel good, m’kay?” He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You melt, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close. He chuckles, mumbling against your lips, “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, but you really turn me on.”

You think you know what it is. You don’t think it’s about you, or about him. It’s rather about the feeling of doing something you shouldn’t be doing. Of doing something forbidden, because he’s Taehyung’s friend, and you’re Taehyung’s younger sister.

But you don’t say it. Instead, you whisper, “Then fuck me good, Jungkook.”

He lets out a breathy sound as he leans his forehead against yours. There’s something so intimate about the gesture that you feel your heart soaring in your chest, and then he pushes your ruined panties to the side again so that he can nudge your entrance with his dick.

“I will,” he promises, and then he pushes in. Just his tip, yet your mouth falls open at how large he already feels, and you tighten your hold on his neck. “Let me know if it hurts.”

Unforgivingly, Jungkook slams all the way in. You let out a broken sound, and he quickly captures your lips in a kiss as he stays right there, deep inside of you, unmoving so that you can adjust around him. And you know you have a lot of adjusting to do – he’s so large it burns, yet the pain feels good. Far too good, and you easily understand how Jungkook got the reputation that he has.

When Jungkook pulls away from the kiss, he slowly pulls out, before pushing all the way in again. Your walls suck him in, and he grunts, leaning his forehead against yours once more.

“Fuck,” he groans. “You feel so fucking good.”

Before you can reply, Jungkook establishes a steady rhythm. Nothing too crazy, but the drag of his dick on your walls is making you see stars, and you softly moan as he keeps moving, never once faltering.

“Moan for me, peach,” he breathlessly says. “I want to hear you fucking screaming my name.”

And then everything changes. Jungkook kneels between your thighs, pulls your legs against his chest, and starts pounding into you, bending down just enough to hit the sweetest spot inside of you. The change of rhythm and position makes you cry out, and your walls clench around him.

He echoes your cry with a moan of his own, something breathless that makes you want to look at him, to stay with him like this forever. So you open your eyes, and the sight of him is nearly enough to make you climax right then and there.

Yet you don’t. You don’t come as you just watch him, watch the way he’s frowning, teeth digging in his lower lip once in a while. Beads of sweat quickly appear on his temples, but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t falter, not even once, as he fucks you, and you feel that familiar knot forming in your lower stomach.

You still don’t come. You keep it in – you don’t know why. You just enjoy the moment, refusing to rush towards its ending. Instead, when Jungkook pushes your legs open so that he can bend down and kiss you again, you welcome him in. You wrap your legs tight around him, keeping him close, and you scratch at his back with one hand, the other getting lost in his hair.

He grunts in your mouth, and he finally switches the rhythm, aiming for harder yet slower. It makes him reach new depths, and you can’t help but moan loudly as he keeps going, keeps ramming into you.

For the first time ever since you moved here, your bed slams into the wall from the force of Jungkook’s thrusts. It’s hot, especially as he moves to your neck, sucking hard.

“Best fucking pussy,” he says in your ear. “Fuck.”

And then he straightens again, forcing you to let go of him, before pulling out. You whine at the sudden loss of sensation, but he just looks down at your pussy, licking his lips at the sight.

“You’re so fucking creamy and wet,” he tells you. “Look at my cock.”

You obey, looking down to where your bodies almost meet. His dick is indeed covered with your juices, and Jungkook gently pushes it between your folds, collecting even more juice. It’s sinful, inherently so, and you moan lightly as he rubs his dick on your clit.

“Think you’ll be able to come for me again?” he asks.

You look up, meeting his gaze. His lips are slightly parted as he breathes in and out quickly, and he smirks wickedly as you nod, once.

“Make me come,” you say, finding some defiance in you again. “You think you’ll be able to do that for me?”

His gaze widens, and then he chuckles. “Fuck peach.” He chuckles again, slightly shaking his head. “I’m going to get addicted to this fucking pussy of yours.”

You whine as he moves from between your legs, lying down on his back. You shoot him a look, and he motions at his body as if in invitation. It makes you laugh, yet you still climb on top of him, grinding on his dick.

His eyes go to your chest, and he gently grabs the hem of your shirt. Even though it’s still cold in your room – though warmer than before – you quickly take off your shirt, wincing as the cold air hits you head on.

“So pretty,” Jungkook praises, and his hands reach up to push your breasts together. “So fucking pretty.”

You blush slightly under the praise, and you’re about to sink on his dick when he stops you. Your eyes go wide, and he motions to your panties.

“Take these off too. I want to see all of you.”

He says it with so much reverence for you that you can’t say no. You can only obey, sitting next to him just long enough so that you can remove the panties. They are soaked, and you throw them towards the dirty clothes hamper before climbing back on top of Jungkook.

Your gazes meet, and there’s a moment of you watching each other. You wish you could read his gaze, wish you could know what it means when he grabs your wrists to pull you down. Your eyes never disconnect from his, not even as one of his hands goes between your bodies so that he can align his dick with your entrance.

And then he pushes up, pushes in. As if you forgot just how big he is, you moan, eyes fluttering shut on instinct. Jungkook grunts, wrapping his arms around your waist, before saying, “Look at me.”

You do. You meet his gaze again and try to hold it as he starts jackhammering into you, the new angle so good you feel like you’re slowly slipping out of your body, soaring towards the sky outside. It’s so good all you can think about is him, his body, the way that he holds you so gently yet fucks you so rough. You rest one hand on the side of his face as he keeps fucking you, and when you can’t resist anymore, you hide your face in his neck.

“You’re such a good girl,” Jungkook says. “You take me so fucking well.” He grunts loudly, slamming to the hilt. You think he’s coming, but then he pulls almost all the way out, before slamming in again. “I never want to stop fucking you.”

You moan, and then your lips ghost on the shell of his ear. Though you’ve been struggling to speak, you say, “You’re so fucking big.”

“I know,” he breathes out. “Let me know if I hurt you.”

You whine. “Never. You’d never hurt me.”

His grip on you tightens, like he’s trying to say he wouldn’t hurt you, wouldn’t be able to, and then he’s fucking you again. The knot in your stomach comes back in full force, especially as he starts whispering filthy praises in your ear, growing more breathless with every swipe of his hips.

Just when you think you’ll come, Jungkook grunts, “I’m going to c-“

He never finishes his sentence, but the feeling of his dick twitching inside of you as he stills deep inside makes you fly over the edge, and your walls start spasming around his cock, milking his orgasm. It feels far too good, like you’ve reached nirvana, and it takes you so long to come down from your high that you believe you never will.

But you do. You do, and the first thing you notice is the cold. Though it’s a lot warmer than it was when you started this whole ordeal, you still shiver.

Jungkook gently pulls a blanket over you, before circling your waist again. He doesn’t let go, not even as his dick, now soft, slips out of you. He lets you lay on top of him, ear against his chest so that you listen to his heartbeat, refusing to move.

You don’t want anything to pop this bubble of peace. Never. You just want to stay here with him, content breathing in the same air as him, until eternity flashes in front of you. Until you grow old and grey, to go to sleep forever. It’s a powerful feeling, though you like to tell yourself that it’s mutual. That his heart, beating softly in his chest, beats for you, in time with the beats of your own heart. You hope that he, too, doesn’t want to let go, though you reckon that this probably was just a hook-up to him, something he’ll be proud of, yet keep to himself. Because wouldn’t Jungkook be the kind of guy to be proud he bagged the little sister? You think he would.

And the thought scares you more than you would ever dare to admit.

Prev | Chapter 4.5 | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

Is it me or is it hot in here? oof- Let me know what you thought of this chapter! I hope that smidge of angst at the end doesn't scare you too much...... bc trust me it scares me OOP

#chasing cars ch 4 #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk #jeon jungkook #btswritersclub #chasing cars #chasing cars series

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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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joequiinn · 5 months

Text

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 5

[chap four] | [all chapters here] | [chap six]

summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, slow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: I'm very excited for this chapter because it's actually one of the scenes that inspired this whole fic! Before I knew what the hell I even wanted to write, I played this idea of a figure skating character over and over again in my head as I built up the story around it. I'm a little behind on writing the next chap, so it may be a slightly longer wait between this and the next one! Hope you all love it!

wc: 4.8k

taglist: @costellation-hunter @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @em0220 @fromasgardandback @kthomps914 @lotrefcp @marrowfrog00 @mewchiili @munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @rach5ive @sav12321 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19

Chapter Five

You skated at least four times a week. You’ve done so since you were ten years old, when you decided that you wanted to take figure skating more seriously. Whether or not you had competitions, whether or not you were in the mood for it, you always stuck with your skating routine. With competition season coming up in November, you knew you’d have to start practicing more, putting in longer hours and more days in preparation.

Or maybe not. After all, competing was something that your mom enjoyed, that she encouraged wholeheartedly. Regardless of how much you enjoyed it, it didn’t exactly fit the teenage rebellion thing you had going on right now. Maybe you wouldn’t go to competition this year, maybe you’d skip out on your final season out of pure spite - now that would be cruel. Although a part of you hurt at that idea - because you really did love skating - you reasoned that it was something you had to consider.

Fridays were always very long days for you. While your peers would be set free to roam following the 3pm school bell, you had more obligations for the day. Once you left school, you crammed in as much homework as you could before hitting the ice rink by 4:30 at the latest to get your own practice in. Once that was done, you led a youth skating practice until 7pm, then you tried to squeeze in some more skating time before the hockey team took to the ice at 7:15. After arriving home at 8 o’clock or later, you crammed more homework so you wouldn’t have to deal with it over the weekend, and then by that point you’d be too worn out for anything else, so you generally slept late into the next morning.

This had been your routine for over a year now, ever since your own couch suggested that you needed to get more extracurriculars under your belt for your college applications. She had insisted that your resume would look far more impressive if you showed that you had teaching experience and “leadership potential,” an idea that really appealed to your parents, who were determined for you to get into a good school, maybe even on a figure skating scholarship. So, you ended up taking over the Friday night children’s lessons whether you wanted to or not.

You honestly despised it. You led children age 5 to 7, and they were a constant pain in the ass. You couldn’t raise your voice without one of them crying, you couldn’t leave them to their own devices without someone inevitably ending up hurt. Yet, you stuck with it because you were told to, because the adults around you insisted that you needed to. You couldn’t stand the way your coach would insist that this would help develop your skills, you couldn’t stand how your mother insisted “you’ll look back on this so fondly when you’re older.” These damned kids skating lessons were something else you’d probably drop soon, because you barely tolerated them as is.

While everyone else was at the football game, while Eddie was probably off playing his stupid fantasy game or doing something equally as nerdy, you were here at the ice rink, shouting instructions at children while parents and hockey players watched. Some of the parents had made it clear before that they weren’t fond of your impatient and mean teaching methods, but your coach always seemed to talk them out of pulling their kids from your group. She always argued something about you being the best skating in the county, but you weren’t sure how true that was - sure, you had your fair share of medals, but even with your ego you were pretty sure there were better skaters at your level.

“Come on, slackers, we’ve got five minutes left!” You taunted your group of 11 kids as they skated around the perimeter of the rink as a cool down. You zipped ahead of them, leading the charge as you skated backwards to keep an eye on them.

Many of the older kids had grown used to your abrasive coaching, but you could see that many of the newbies were still frightened of you, your loud voice, and your cold eyes. As a means of excusing your poor teaching style, you always said that skating was a tough sport and they needed to toughen up if they wanted to be any good at it. For how pretty and elegant figure skating could be, you knew from experience that competitive skating could be harsh, so you figured you were helping these kids prepare for it.

Because the Hawkins High hockey team had the rink after your group every Friday, many of them were already sitting on the sidelines, getting their gear ready or watching you work. The cocky part of you enjoyed the attention, but hockey players were stupid, so you rarely gave any of them a chance whenever they tried talking to you. Nonetheless, when you were in a good mood, you enjoyed putting on a bit of a show for them, shooting flirty glances their way or occasionally calling out remarks to them between instructing the kids. Tonight, you were paying them little mind, but that didn’t stop you from looking their way every now and again.

As you led the kids back to the center of the ice to wrap up the lesson, a lot of their parents were also waiting in the bleachers or out in the lobby. While you skated back and forth in front of your little army of children, going over some instructions for their next practice with your coach on Monday, your eyes roamed the bleachers. You gave a wicked grin to the hockey players that watched you, meanwhile you took in the parents with very little regards. It was as you looked over the clusters of parents that you saw a familiar face sitting at the penalty bench, and unintentionally you let your toe pick drag on the ice, which very nearly caused you to trip.

God damn Eddie Munson.

As you glared in his direction, hoping your momentary lack of balance didn’t make you look too stupid, you dismissed the kids before gliding towards the dasher board. Eddie, grinning like an asshole, stood up to meet you as children began to exit the ice. You braced yourself on the rail of the board, eyes narrowed at Eddie who appeared far too amused for your liking.

“What are you doing here?” You ask in lieu of a greeting. Eddie briefly glances over at the kids leaving the ice.

“You’re incredible with children.” He mocked, smiling far too wide for your liking; you narrowed your eyes while wondering just how long he’d been here, “Figured I might find you here.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re here, though.” You respond coldly, gaze briefly looking in the direction of the hockey team to find a couple of them watching your interaction.

“You did say we needed to make plans, figure out how this was going to work,” Eddie started, taking in your red cheeks and slightly damp forehead that developed over the course of your skating lessons.

“I also said we’d talk about it next week.” You glowered a little, not worried if any of the hockey players saw it - maybe they’d simply mistake it for a lovers quarrel. Eddie grinned, holding his arms up as if he were a presenter on some dumb show.

“No time like the present, right?” Your unamused face gave him all the answer he needed, and his expression fell a little in annoyance, “And here I hoped I was being a good fake boyfriend by visiting you at the rink.”

“You’re being too good a fake boyfriend,” You jab.

Now that all the kids were off the ice, you slid towards the open gate; Eddie kept pace with you on the other side of the dasher board, meeting you at the gate and offering you his hand in assistance. You looked between his face and his outstretched hand with a glare, but eventually accepted his help, stepping over the barrier and onto the slightly cushy floor on the other side.

“I told you not tonight because I’m busy.” You walk over to the gym bag you left sitting on the nearest bleachers. As you sat beside it, Eddie shrugged with a carelessness that seemed almost false.

“Then I’ll go.” He answered simply as you removed your skates, “Just thought it might not be a bad idea to get to know you a little better. It’s not gonna be easy to fake date someone who you know nothing about.”

You shot him a harsh look while putting skate guards over your blades. You didn’t want to admit that he was right, but he had a good point, especially since you had already discussed it before. You sighed heavily through your nose, your cold eyes locked on Eddie’s.

“Can’t it wait? I’ve had a long day.”

Eddie studied you for a moment, leaning back against the dasher board before looking around the ice rink. You quickly put some worn sneakers on your feet and stood, picking your bag and turning away with the intention to leave. But Eddie’s gentle grip on your wrist stopped you from going anywhere, causing you to look between his hand and his face. As you two held eye contact, you realized that Eddie could be just as stubborn as you when he wanted; damn, was this going to be difficult.

“Let me buy you dinner - I’m sure you’re starving,” Eddie started, and for a fleeting moment you wondered if he thought your attitude was because you were hangry. You chewed your lower lip, eyes staring critically at Eddie for another few moments before you let out a defeated sigh, allowing your shoulders to relax a little. Considering that it had been nearly eight hours since your lunch break, it might now be a bad idea to eat something.

Eddie’s eyes softened at your silent resignation, the corner of his mouth pulling up. He finally released your wrist, nodding his head in the direction of the lobby, “Come on, you pick.”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Your pick ended up being a 24-hour diner downtown. Eddie showed clear confusion when you mentioned it, so you explained that - for whatever reason - the diner had become something of a tradition, where students congregated post-Friday night football into the wee hours of the night. You’d joined that crowd a number of times in the past, but had no more interest in it - what you were interested in was having people see you and Eddie out together.

You knew it would still be at least an hour before the football crowd arrived, but that wasn’t such a bad thing - it gave you and Eddie a bit of time to actually become acquainted, to learn more about each other beyond “ice princess” and “the freak.”

You studied Eddie while sipping on a chocolate shake, waiting for your food to arrive. He stared back at you unabashedly, and you figured you could be locked into this staring contest until the end of time given how stubborn you both could be. As if Eddie knew what you were thinking, he smirked, finally caving as he looked away from you.

“Not to sound cliche,” Eddie scratched the back of his neck, almost as if he were nervous, but you assumed that couldn’t be true, “but… tell me about yourself?”

You smiled at how dumb the question was - that was so cliche. It was as good a starting place as any you figured, but that didn’t make it sound any less silly and forced. You leaned back in your seat, still holding tight to your milkshake as if it were a lifeline.

Putting on your best Miss America voice, you replied, “Well, I’m freshly 18 from Hawkins, Indiana. I love long walks on the beach, snuggling up with a good book, and I hope one day we’ll have world peace.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you, although you could tell he was fighting back a grin, “You’re making this very challenging considering that it was your idea.”

You shrug, taking a big gulp of the chocolate shake, “I guess I’m just a challenging person.”

“You guess?” Eddie laughed mockingly at that, “You’re the most challenging I’ve met. So, how about you try relaxing a little or else no one’s going to buy that we’re together.”

You made a face at the near-insult, finally putting down your drink. You leaned your elbows on the table, taking in Eddie’s face for a moment, stubbornly resisting the urge to say anything. Again, he had a good point, not that you wanted to tell him that. Eddie appeared to have an idea as he mirrored your pose.

“Okay, we’ll go back and forth, a question for a question; how’s that?” You nodded, “Right. First question: Why me?”

Your brows furrowed a little in thought, pinning down a good answer while trying to recall what you’ve already told him, “Haven’t I already explained that?”

“Kind of.” Eddie rolled his hand in a motion that basically said “but go on.”

You bit the inside of your cheek for a moment while thinking, “Your reputation. People don’t know you, but your reputation is in the absolute gutter. No better person to turn to than the guy who everyone in the school already hates.”

Eddie nodded in acceptance of the answer, “Okay, your turn.”

You grinned a little, a question already on your lips, “Why’d you agree to it?”

It was something you’d speculated briefly throughout the week, as you thought that your trade offer might not have been a compelling enough reason for Eddie to agree to this stupid plan. And now you could finally get the answer you were looking for.

Eddie silently stared at you in consideration, and again it almost felt like he was able to read your thoughts somehow. Finally, he answered, “Curiosity.”

You raised a brow in question, to which he once more scratched the back of his neck - maybe that actually was a nervous habit, so you took note of it.

“We both know this idea is kinda crazy,” Eddie started, mulling over his thoughts before continuing, “But I wanted to see how it plays out. See if we can actually trick people into believing it. And I wanted to see if you were as awful as I thought you were.”

You balked instantly, an amused huff escaping your mouth, “‘Awful?’ Jesus, you keep acting like I’m the devil or something.”

Eddie made a face while shrugging, not disagreeing with you, “You thought the same about me. So, let’s call it square.”

Food was finally brought to your table, and you had to resist the urge to attack the greasy burger set in front of you; you didn’t need Eddie to see you act like a ravenous gremlin over some food, even if it had been over eight hours since you’d eaten anything. But you nonetheless dug in, albeit with far more control than your empty, growling stomach would have liked.

“Your turn.” You say around a bite of food, causing Eddie to smile in amusement and the unladylike action.

“Hmm…” He leaned forward, scrutinizing you as he contemplated his next question. Self consciously, you wiped at the corner of your mouth just to make sure there wasn’t any stray ketchup or grease sitting there, “Why ice skating?”

“Because it’s better than cheerleading.” You smiled at your own joke before giving a slightly better answer, “I always thought it was pretty. Nothing else to it, unfortunately; no deep story and significance to it.”

“Fine.” Eddie responded almost as if he was disappointed by the mundane answer.

“Why Dungeons and Dragons?”

“Your questions can’t keep being off-shoots of mine.” Eddie laughed a little, and despite yourself it caused you to smile smally as well.

“Says who?”

“Says me,” He responded while pointing at himself, “I get to come up with some of the rules now, remember?”

“Whatever.” You rolled your eyes with a degree of fondness, which you immediately found strange, so you tried to wipe the look from your face. Nope, you weren’t fond of Eddie Munson, not at all.

You went back to your food, hoping Eddie didn’t catch the amused look on your face. You spoke around another bite of food, “Do you have siblings?”

“None that I know of.” He replied around his own mouthful of food, “But I wouldn’t exactly be surprised if there were any out there.”

You cocked your head a little at the response; it wasn’t so much shocking or sad, rather it was unexpected and different from your own life. You made a mental note to learn more about Eddie’s family, if not tonight then at a later point.

“What’s your plan after graduation?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but then paused - what was your plan now that you were trying to make your own decisions? You hadn’t even considered it. Did you still want to go to college? Where? Studying what? You suddenly realized that you had no true plan for yourself, only the one outlined by your parents, and that realization made you nervous.

“Honest answer: not a fucking clue.” Eddie looked taken aback by the response, so you continued, “My plan before was getting into a good school on a skating scholarship, and studying something completely irrelevant. My parents expect my skating to carry me through life until some good, rich man sweeps me off my feet.”

“But that’s not your plan anymore?”

“That’s another question.” You give him a teasing grin, causing Eddie to roll his eyes, “First, answer me this: If you weren’t stuck in Hawkins, where would you go?”

Eddie grinned with an unexpected eagerness, “LA. The music scene there is insane, and I’d happily sleep on the streets if it meant I had a shot at making my own music.”

Your eyes softened ever so slightly at the unexpected, genuine response - admittedly, you didn’t peg Eddie as the type to have any real goals. But music? That was interesting to you since you weren’t even aware that he played any instruments. You wondered if he was actually any good at it, or if it was some foolish aspiration.

“Now, what’s your plan?” Eddie repeated, smirking at the look on your face - this was one of the few times you didn’t look like a total bitch, so he appreciated it. In fact, you looked relaxed and, dare he say, content; that was certainly unexpected from you.

When you shrugged, he shook his head, leaning forward again, “No, you come up with a plan right now. Don’t base it off what your parents want or what you think sounds like the right answer. What do you want to do with your life once we’re done with this shit hole?”

You contemplated, a mild concern washing over you as you stared at Eddie - what the hell did you want? And why did you suddenly feel so vulnerable because of the question. You had to rip your gaze away from Eddie’s, hardening your expression as you tried to think up an answer that felt right.

“I… I like art, I love clothes,” You started dumbly, glancing at Eddie through your lashes, expecting him to make a face at the lame answer, “I don’t know shit about them in a technical way, but it might be fun for college. Take painting or sewing classes during the day, skate until my feet hurt at night, maybe… I want to be somewhere big and interesting. New York, LA… fuck, even Florida for all I care, I just want out of Hawkins, out of this town.”

“Then I guess we’ll be those high school sweethearts that run off to LA together after graduation, huh?” Eddie smiled widely, and you allowed an amused look to cross your face.

“Oh, I’m sure.” You returned to your food as you tried to come up with a good question for Eddie. An intriguing one came to you, so you asked before you could second guess it, “How do you expect your fake girlfriend to act?”

Eddie’s brow furrowed; it didn’t appear to be due to him misunderstanding the question, but rather that it was unexpected; he even looked maybe hesitant to answer it. Again, he scratched his neck.

You lean forward a little, looking at him seriously, “Give me a good answer, okay? We’re just gonna keep going in circles otherwise.”

Eddie shrugged, “Maybe I don’t have any expectations.”

“Then come up with some.” You immediately counter, prodding the same way he had about your plans for the future. Eddie stared at you with scrutiny while chewing the inside of his lip, as if he didn’t want to come up with a response to the question. You waited, making a mock sweet face at him while you chowed down on your fries. You were going to demand an answer until he gave you one.

“Well, going off the rules you already established,” He made a bit of a face as if to mock the oh-so-sacred fake dating rules, “Aside from playing nice in front of others, it might be helpful if you were less stubborn; you’re like a damn bull.”

You gave him a joshing smile right back, “Fair. Is that it?”

Eddie quickly shook his finger; now it was just a back-and-forth game of you mocking one another, “Ah, that’s another question.”

“Oh, fuck off.” You rolled your eyes with a short laugh, “That is not another question.”

Eddie gave a fake look of apology, shrugging again, “Unfortunately, it is.”

You threw a french fry at him, which lamely hit his chest then landed in his lap. As he laughed and picked it up, you found yourself smiling fondly again, and you quickly tried to shake off the expression.

At that moment, the bell above the front door chimed, and immediately the diner was filled with rambunctious conversation. Your heart jumped a little, realizing the time, and you briefly glanced in the direction of the door; the group that had entered wasn’t your friends, although you recognized them. You turned your attention back to Eddie, who gave you another grin.

“Showtime.” He stated simply, and then a thought appeared to cross his mind, “You want another expectation? Tell me if anything I do is too much, but otherwise let me do what I do - you don’t need to be in control all the time.”

“Don’t I, though?” You countered haughtily, which was met by a flash of seriousness across Eddie’s eyes.

“No, you don’t. I know what I’m doing, okay?”

You studied him for a moment, not entirely convinced that he did, in fact, know what he was doing. Considering that you’d never seen him even interact with a girl before, you weren’t sure if he knew the first thing about dating or romance. But despite your doubts, you relented, relaxing your shoulders as if to show you were relinquishing some control.

“Fine,” You rolled your eyes nonetheless, forever obstinate as you mocked, “I’ll tell you if I don’t like something, but otherwise I’ll let you do what you do.”

“Was that so hard?” Eddie replied with a condescending smirk. You sneered before relaxing your face, knowing your friends were bound to appear any minute now.

As you stole another glance at the door, you suddenly felt Eddie’s fingers graze the back of your hand, drawing your attention back to him with a confused little knot between your brows. He held your gaze as if to make a point, as if to remind you of the conversation you just had, that he knew what he was doing. His hand simply sat on top of yours, your fingers ever so slightly lacing together - he raised his brows as if to dare you to pull away from him. You had to resist the urge to narrow your eyes at him and snatch your hand away, and in turn Eddie gave you a cocky grin before continuing to eat with his free hand.

Eventually, your friends appeared, although they didn’t notice you at first. They were all so full of energy as they excitedly spoke to each other, descending upon a few tables in the middle of the diner and pushing them together. The staff were used to it, although you knew from experience that they nonetheless hated it; you guys were always disruptive to the other patrons, and you figured that was never going to change.

You tried your best not to stare, but your eyes kept trailing over, kept studying the excited faces of the people you considered friends only a couple of weeks ago. After your eyes had drifted over for the umpteenth time, you felt Eddie lightly squeeze your fingers, causing you to unintentionally sneer at how strange it was to maintain this physical contact with him.

“Stop staring,” He instructed when you looked back at him.

With a quarrelsome look in your eyes, you did as Eddie told you, returning your attention to the half eaten burger on your plate, “Talk to me about something, then.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t care, just talk so I can pretend to be interested.”

Eddie looked mildly put off by that, and you realized that you’d taken your customary mean tone with him. You couldn’t seem to help yourself with your former cohorts nearby, it was as if their energy was rubbing off on you.

“You know what I’m going to talk about,” Eddie taunted with a wide grin.

Your face fell in realization, “Please not Dungeons and Dragons.”

“I’m gonna do it.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“So, there’s this character, Kas, who has really interesting lore--”

You threw another fry at Eddie, and at that same moment, you felt someone come up alongside your table. You both look up to see Amelia there with a critical look on her face; your gaze drifts past her, noticing that a few people from her table were also looking at you and Eddie.

You met Amelia’s eyes again, giving her a wide, false smile, “Small world.”

Her eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms, “Yeah, I’m sure you just completely forgot we always come here after games.”

“Maybe she just wanted to see her dear friends.” Eddie chimed in mockingly, once again surprising you with his willingness to instigate confrontation. You laughed as a dumbfounded look crossed Amelia’s at his remark.

“I don’t know what the hell she sees in you.” Amelia snarked with a glare before turning her gaze back to you, “And I don’t know what the hell is going on with you, but it’s already getting pretty old.”

You shrug with exaggerated nonchalance, “Sometimes a girl just needs a bit of a change every now and then, you know?”

Amelia didn’t look convinced as she rolled her eyes with a dramatic sigh, “Yeah, well, this ‘change’ doesn’t suit you at all.”

Before you could respond with another quip, Amelia spun on her heel and briskly returned to her table. By that point, everyone there was watching and awaiting Amelia’s return, quickly huddling together to whisper conspiratorially once she sat down.

You and Eddie shared an amused glance; he went back to poking at his food as your gaze trailed back to Amelia and company. You happened to lock eyes with Duncan, who stared at you with harsh scrutiny, as if he wasn’t buying this thing between you and Eddie in the slightest. You gave Duncan a mocking while, starting to wave before flipping him off, causing Eddie to snort and choke on his food. You couldn’t help but laugh out loud as he hit his chest a couple of times, trying to clear his throat. The sound of such a genuine laugh escaping you was absolutely foreign to Eddie, but he decided it was a sound he enjoyed, even if it was at his expense; he made a mental note that he had to find ways to make you laugh more that didn’t involve him choking.

“You could’ve killed me.” Eddie croaked before laughing himself, his smile wide.

“You’re fine.” You teased, squeezing his fingers while giving him a false pout of sympathy, “You big baby.”

Eddie rolled his eyes in amusement, digging his wallet out while finally relinquishing the grip he had on your hand, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

He tossed money onto the table and stood, offering his hand to you again. You quickly snagged one last fry before accepting Eddie’s hand, allowing him to pull you to your feet. He once again laced his fingers with yours as he led you through the crowded diner, and you had to fight back the desire to cringe in confusion at it. The both of you eyed the crowd of Hawkins High’s elite as they watched you back critically.

Once outside the diner, Eddie paused in front of one of the large windows and pulled a ridiculous face at the kids still watching you; he quickly tugged your arm, leading you back towards the van as you laughed again at his antics.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things #em #dos and donts

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madridfangirl · 3 months

Text

Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fic)

Chapter 6

(Series Link)

Jude * female reader. Mature Language in parts.

Synopsis: A chance encounter in a tiny Madrid cafe with the newest superstar of her fav club. The two couldn't be more different, yet both feel the pull toward the other. Would this girl be the one he finally falls for? Would she make him change his ways? Even though she resists him every step of the way, would he fight all odds (& her) to have her in his life? Or would life come in the way of these star-crossed lovers?

...........................................................................

‘Jude Bellingham, Jude fucking Bellingham was in our house?’

Ananya was plopped onto Roma’s bed, enjoying her friend’s frantic outburst. While holding on to the black RM leather jacket he had left behind.

‘For the zillionth time, yes.’

Roma paced around the room, delirious with excitement & borderline rage.

‘And I was right here? 25 feet away? And you couldn’t call me?’

‘He was only here for like 10 mins, and….we were otherwise occupied.’

And I wasn’t really in my senses. Well, this bit she didn’t say out loud.

‘Oh my fuckin lord. Think my brain’s gonna explode. You kissed him. You kissed Jude Bellingham. Should I be happy for you or throttle you in jealousy? Fuck man!’

She continued her frantic pacing which amused Ananya further. Yes Roma had a crush on Jude (everyone did) but she had been with her college boyfriend for over 3 years. The crush was quite harmless. Borderline horny at times but generally harmless.

‘He kissed me.’

She clarified plainly, lips curving into a smile as her friend burst into another rant.

‘Yeah yeah. Lover boy couldn’t resist snogging you. I got it. But he could have said hi after.’

Ananya pulled Roma on to the bed, next to her, and hugged her tightly.

‘Next time, promise.’

That cheered her up. Her attention then went to the jacket in Ananya’s hands. When Ananya confirmed it was indeed his, she grabbed the jacket, sniffed it and hummed appreciatively.

Ananya smacked her arm in mock admonishment.

‘What? You get the whole package and I can’t even get a whiff? How’s that fair?’

Ananya just pulled the jacket back in response, wrapping it around herself.

‘Behave. Or I am telling Chris.’

Roma dismissed the false threat regarding her boyfriend.

‘Yeah yeah. Tell me, would lover boy be open to a threesome? My birthday is in a month and you’d make the Guinness book for being the best friend ever if you serve me that sweet piece of ass.’

Ananya gasped and hit her with a pillow, both bursting into a fit of giggles.

That ugly voice inside her did wonder if he had done something like that before. Also, how easy it would have been if he had met someone as easygoing as Roma. Instead of her.

But, two nights in a row, he had asked for a chance. And she wanted to give him one. So she nipped the thoughts in the bud and let Roma distract her with all the plans she was making with the three of them together.

Monday morning brought her much needed normalcy and routine. The office was still buzzing with the Classico excitement.

It hit her how nuts her weekend had been. When she left work on Friday evening, she had never met him. He had stormed into her life 2.5 days ago and turned everything upside down, inside out, consuming every waking moment of hers.

She opened her laptop, somehow zoned out of everything else, only checking her phone at lunch. Smiling at the notification.

Jude: Lads are saying am buzzing today. Wonder why.

She smiled at his insinuation. Then pictured him being a nuisance in training.

Ananya: No clue. Classico hangover? Hit your head in a tackle?

He came online when she sent the message, probably having lunch too.

Jude: Need me to come over and give you a reminder? Your office desk instead of your dining table?

He cut to the chase straightaway. Her whole body jerked as she pictured what he was implying. He wasn’t one to concede, on or off the pitch. She was starting to see that.

He also was a shameless flirt. And she couldn’t afford to let him get her all riled up in the middle of work.

Ananya: Fine, you win 🤷‍♀️

Jude: Good girl :)

They both said goodbyes soon after, returning to their busy schedules.

In the evening, she sent him a quick message to wish safe travels. He responded with a relaxed selfie of him onboard the flight, making his patented ‘say cheese’ face. A sweet, goofy, handsome face.

Next evening was Madrid’s away match. It was also Ananya’s most stressful day at work since she joined 5 months ago. She ended up missing the match but caught the highlights when she finally got a breather after sending her report. They looked rough - tackles, yellow cards, clashes all over the pitch. Madrid had drawn and missed out on 2 crucial points.

She checked her phone. The match had ended 90 mins ago. Where would he be and what to even say to him right now?

Ananya: Hey!

She dropped the message and quickly checked her laptop to see if there was any response from the New York team on the report yet. No new mail. It was already 10 pm but she would just have to wait in the office till they give an ok, or for 45 mins, whichever was sooner.

Her phone flashed.

Jude: Horrible day. Wanna punch someone.

Ananya: Punch my New York team, they pissed me off nonstop today. On your way back?

Jude: Oh nooo. Fuckin runway is down in this fuckall city. Red-eye flight tmrw then straight to training. Fuck my life.

Ananya: Wanna talk?

He face-timed her instantly. She rushed to find an empty cabin and answered his call.

It was quite a scene. It looked like someone had robbed him & trashed his hotel room.

He was sat on the table, in front of his laptop, head resting on his forearms. That’s how she found him.

‘Hey Jude’

‘Hmphh.’

He groaned, still keeping his head buried.

‘Want me to sing it like the fans do?’

He whipped his head up. And she saw how upset he really was. Frown lines all over that pretty face. Sparkle missing from the coffee-brown eyes. Her heart yearned to comfort him.

‘Why should you? Why should the fans? I didn’t give them any reason to cheer for me today. I let them down. Let my team down. My coach, the staff, my family. I let everyone I care about down with that horrendous display today.’

She knew he wasn’t done, so she waited patiently while he gathered his breath and continued ranting.

‘We lost two crucial points because I fuckin missed sitters. SITTERS Ananya. Not one but two. Like I can score them with my eyes closed but nope. Had to be a total wanker today. When my team needed me.’

He stood up agitatedly and paced around the table. She could see he was still fully dressed, so was probably moping around in his room since he came back.

‘Did you speak to your mum?’

He took off his watch & jacket, throwing them on the bed. His shoes flew to some other corner of the room.

‘Yes. She says I wasn’t bad & that I should stop blaming myself. But she’s my mum - of course she would say that. I know I was fucking shit not just bad.’

He wrestled with his belt, peeling it off and was midway through pulling his jumper off when she spoke next.

‘I would have to agree. Offensively you were poor today.’

Silence at the other end. He paused for 2 seconds, then took the jumper off in irritation and sat in front of her. Bare-chested. No one had said this to him tonight, even from the team or coaching staff. And obviously not his family.

She kept her eyes firmly on his face.

‘You wanted honesty right? So there you go. You didn’t make enough meaningful runs in the box, the link-up with the front line was not clicking and yes the finishing was unlike you. Should have scored at-least one of the two chances.’

That stung, especially coming from her. He wondered if it was the Madridista talking or the girl he was fascinated by. But at-least she wasn’t giving him any rosy crap.

‘Hmm.’

He stared at his hands. Eyes not meeting hers.

‘At the same time, I will also say that you were damn good defensively. All the tracking back, tackles, work rate, interceptions - on point. That’s a key part of your role and your team knows that. The fans can see that. Plus they smothered you every-time you touched the ball. Very physical tussle throughout. They really went for you. And the ref should have intervened sooner.’

He looked at her with such understanding and helplessness. The urge to hug him grew stronger.

‘The ref - what a stupid fuck. They should have had two red cards. See this?’

He pulled up his joggers to show her his badly bruised calf. And then his shoulder, where they had elbowed him twice. She felt like wrapping him up in a protective blanket.

‘Oh Jude. Just put something on this ok, don’t let it be. But here is another thing - it will happen. They will come after you coz you are a key threat now. The refs won’t always intervene. You’ll need to take it in your stride and not be agitated on the field. That squaring up with the centre back - it was a yellow, you got away. Can’t react like that, can’t bump into them so aggressively. Don’t let it get to you, don’t let them win.’

He nodded absent-mindedly, still kicking himself for all his stupidities today. Her observations were bang on though. He was almost proud of her football knowledge. Not just smart in her work but an all around star.

His grumpiness started to go down and the stiffness dissipated from his posture.

‘One last thing - what you have been doing so far is not normal. It’s the honeymoon period. You won’t score every game. A dip will come. But you will bounce back and still be great. Know why? Coz of how much you care, how much you want it, and how talented you are. If I can see it from the outside, then you must know it in your heart. Think about it, you’re 20. Last few months have been nuts. Absolute bonkers. A Ronaldo like debut even!’

That last line had the desired effect. His lips curved into a sweet smile. He knew she won’t use that analogy lightly, even for him.

‘There he is - there’s the notorious happy boy I know.’

She smiled right back and he blew her a kiss, sending her heart reeling.

While she steadied herself, he finally noticed her surroundings.

‘Ur in office? It’s 10:30 pm.’

She groaned loudly.

‘Yup. Just sent my report. Waiting for a go ahead, then I can push off.

‘Agnes can pick you up if you want. It’s raining there no?’

‘Thanks for offering. But I will take a cab, no bother.’

‘It’s not a bother, really.’

‘Jude - I am a big girl. I’ll manage.’

She said it sweetly but firmly. He got the message. Starting to depend on him for any of these things was not what she wanted to do, so she was going to protect that space.

Ananya checked her mail again. Still no reply. She only had to wait 30 mins more then she could leave. He offered to be on call with her for that time. They spoke about random things for the next few mins - the distraction really helping them both.

Some time later, a knock on the cabin door startled her. She quickly minimised her video call screen when Arjun walked in with a cup of coffee and some cookies. Seeing that she was on a call, he left them on the table, waved at her and walked out.

Ananya watched him leave, and prayed to all gods known and unknown that Jude hadn’t seen who it was. But the silence on the line was deafening. She sighed and maximised the screen again.

The happy boy was gone. Replaced by a serious, hard face. Like someone had fouled him with a two-legged sliding tackle & run away with the ball.

‘The fuck was that?’

Jude said in a low, cold tone. Sending a chill down her back. She kept her tone steady & even in response.

‘Nothing. He’s my direct supervisor on this project. Both of us were working on this report and now we are waiting to hear back. He would have gone down to the cafeteria so just got me some coffee. That’s it. Nothing more.’

Jude only focused on a few words there - rest fell on deaf ears.

‘It’s just you two there right now?’

‘Well, on other floors there are more people. It’s investment banking after all. But on this floor, yes. Just us.’

Just us. Those words stung more than all the fouls on him that night.

‘Does he know you are taken?’

The way he said taken sent shivers down her back, for entirely different reasons than a minute ago. His calculated, authoritative tone wasn’t helping either.

‘We said we won’t tell anyone. So how could he know?’

‘You don’t have to tell him you are with me. But why can’t you say you are with someone? Off limits?’

He threw the logic straight back in her face. She thought about it for a few seconds.

‘It will just invite too many questions. Too many asks for me to bring along the person at parties, get togethers blah blah. Can’t make excuses all the time, so easier to say nothing I guess.’

He turned his face away, frustrated but trying to keep a lid on it, as he thought of what to say next. But he whipped his face back at her when another unpleasant thought hit him.

‘Does he drive to work?’

She knew where this was going. He was too plain to read when he got like this. Myriad of emotions took over - she was feeling guilty, frustrated & tired at the same time.

‘Yes. And before you ask, no, I wasn’t planning to take a ride back with him.’

‘But he has offered before, hasn’t he?’

She knew he had her beat. She wanted to protest that he was overreacting but logically and factually, he had her there.

‘I knew it. Fuckin hate his guts I swear!’

Ananya wanted to hold him, shake him, even kiss him to make him stop talking and thinking like this. If only they were together right now.

He was thinking the same thing. If they were together, he would have grabbed her and kissed the living daylights out of her. Pouring all his frustrations into her lips.

‘Jude - you asked me to trust you. And I did. Do you not return the sentiment?’

He wanted to slam his fits on the table, but somehow held back. Didn’t she get it still?

‘Oh I trust you. It’s HIM I don’t trust.’

‘What could he do? Even if he asks me out, I will politely refuse. And we get on with our lives. How is it different from the zillion women who come on to you all the time? This is just one person.’

She was really pushing his buttons now.

‘Oh it’s different. Because that leech would be with you day and night and would think he can grow on you. Wear you down. Make you fall for him. He won’t stop trying, till he knows you are mine. Men operate like that, sweetheart. Wake up and smell the coffee.’

‘Gosh, you can be so thick. Just like all men.’

‘Excuse me?’

Was she trying to piss him off on purpose? Testing him was not a good idea tonight.

‘Excused. Can’t you see I am not attracted to him? What will he do, some kind of voodoo to magically change my mind? In these 5 months, I have never once thought of him. Even casually. Never looked at him. And yes on paper he’s a great match for me but god damnit I don’t feel any spark there. He doesn’t make me go weak in the knees like y..’

She stopped herself just in time. His eyes watching her like a hawk.

‘Go on.’

‘No. You don’t deserve to hear it right now.’

‘Disagree.’

‘Well you can shove your disagreement where the sun doesn’t shine.’

He smiled smugly, almost appreciatively, and leaned back in the chair, moving both arms behind his neck. Giving her a full view of his bare upper body - muscles & veins flexing & bulging at all the right places.

She knew what he was doing. And tried really hard to keep his eyes glued to his face. But her gaze wandered, making him more smug.

‘Gotta do something about that mouth of yours, no dove?’

Her lips opened and closed in vain for a comeback; he had thrown her off.

‘Have half a mind to come straight to you when I land, wake you up in the middle of the night & keep you up. What say?’

Her skin started to feel hot and her hands gripped the edge of the chair to steady herself.

‘Behave, pls. I am in the office.’

‘Not so sassy now, are we?’

‘As if you don’t like that.’

She whispered under her breath.

‘Oh I love it. So much. But baby I want the sass to remain when you are wrapped around me, not just from afar.’

She sighed loudly, hating how she seemed to have no control on her senses every time she was around him. How easily he flustered her.

‘Gosh you are just non-stop aren’t you.’

‘In every which way. You’ll find out soon.’

‘Juuuuude.’

She groaned warningly. Wondering how flushed she had gotten and how she would leave the cabin now. This boy was just too much.

At least he was smiling now. Smug, proud, conquering smile. Even that looked endearing on him, damn that prick.

‘Okay okay. We are on for tomorrow night? My place?’

‘Yes - if no surprises at work.’

‘Cool, cya then. Let Agnes pick you up tmrw? Will be easier to enter the compound.

That seemed fair. She also noticed how he had framed it differently from earlier.

‘Ok, I will ping him directly.’

‘Great. And dove?’

‘Yes?’

He leaned in close to the screen. Soft expression. Genuine, sweet smile. Warm twinkling eyes. Handsomest of handsome face. She forgot she had been mad at him 30 seconds ago.

‘Thanks for everything tonight. I…it was a rough day.’

She smiled from ear to ear, fighting the urge to stroke the screen of her phone where his face was. So near yet so far.

‘Glad to see you are feeling better. Go talk to your mom now, she would be happy to see you are not in a foul mood anymore.’

45 mins were up some time ago. Still no new mail from NY, meaning she could leave now. But he somehow didn’t want to let her go. She didn’t seem to mind that either.

It surprised him how quickly she had lifted his spirits. Just with a conversation. In the past, he would have found other outlets to channel his frustration, and a heart to heart talk would not have been in the consideration set.

But she was different. And he was also different with her.

What he did next surprised both of them.

He leaned forward, smushed his lips against the laptop screen and kissed the spot where her face was, while making kissing noises.

Her heart skipped a couple of beats at the tenderness of the moment. And her hand went up involuntarily to stroke his face. Neither wanting to hang up still.

But it was getting late and she wasn’t letting him arrange a ride back. So, he had to let her go.

‘Good night, babe. Ping me when you reach?’

‘Will do. Good night, Jude.’

They hung up grudgingly. Yet, neither moved from their seats. Reliving some of the moments in their heads. Tomorrow night just couldn’t come soon enough.

...................................................................................

There you go. All this Jude content last few days drove me to write. As always, would love to hear your thoughts / comments / feedback. Hope you are liking the story & these two, lots more to come :)

#real madrid #jude bellingham #bellingham #bellingham x reader #jude fanfic #jude #jb5 #jb #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham smut #desi girl

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just-dreaming-marvel · 1 month

Text

LEGACY ~ 12

LEGACY MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,240ish

Summary: Steve worries about you. Tony opens your files.

Warning(s): Talk of torture / abuse

Notes: We're going to continue to see major differences from my original character fic LEGACY. I hope you all are enjoying them!

Over the course of the next few weeks, you felt like Tony was pulling away from you more and more. He seemed to have a lot more Stark Industries meetings than normal and a lot less time for you. There were many times when you asked FRIDAY to get a hold of Tony or tell you where he was, and the AI refused. You also began to notice that security at the Tower and the new Avengers facility–mostly when it came to you–was getting more and more intense. This made you angry. You decided to channel your anger into school work, training, and your Stark Industries work. You started to spend half of your week at the Tower and the other half at the update facility. The Team members at the facility could tell that Tony was seemingly pushing you away, but none of them could get you or Tony to talk about it.

One night, you were up late in the facility kitchen, finishing up some classwork, when Steve walked in.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Hi,” you responded, not looking up from your work.

“It’s a little late for homework, don’t you think?”

“And it’s a little late for you to be up, old man.”

“Ouch.” Steve leaned against the counter, watching you as you worked across the kitchen island. “Y/N?”

“Mhm?”

“What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re almost… manic. It seems like you’re constantly go, go, go. Always trying to keep busy.”

“I just have a lot to do.”

“You and I both know that’s not the reason. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Steve, I’m fine.” You didn’t see him reach across the kitchen island before he had pulled your classwork away from you. “Hey!”

“You can get it back once you start talking.”

“There’s nothing going on.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

After a short staring contest, you gave in. You explained how you lost the flash drive with your files on it. How you knew that you could reach out to Fury for them, but hadn’t convinced yourself to just yet. You then talked about how you felt like Tony was pulling away and how security seemed to be tightening around you.

“It’s beginning to worry me, Steve,” you admitted. “What if–” You cut yourself off, squeezing your eyes shut to try and stop the threatening tears.

“What if what, Y/N?” Steve asked after a few moments.

“What if he doesn’t want me anymore?” You whispered, voice cracking. “I mean, my real parents didn’t want me. So why would he?”

Steve moved quickly around the island, his hands going to your upper arms as you hung your head. “Y/N, don’t ever speak like that again, you hear me?” You met his gaze and all the seriousness that it held. “Of course Tony wants you. He loves you. You are his daughter, his favorite person. Tony just… well, he’s Tony. He struggles show that he cares.”

“He’s never had that problem with me…”

Steve sighed. “I’m sure that he’s going through something. I will try to reach out. I need you to promise me something though, Y/N… Promise me that if you ever start doubting if you are wanted again, you come to me. Immediately. No matter where I am, I’ll answer. Alright?”

“Alright.”

“Good.” He leaned in and kissed your forehead, his lips lingering a bit longer than they probably should have. “Now, let’s get you off to bed. And I expect you to sleep in, no early morning training for you.”

You nodded and slowly stood up. The exhaustion was finally hitting you. You took a few steps before stumbling and almost falling. Steve was quick to catch you, hoisting you up in his arms.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, almost like a promise.

You closed your eyes and leaned into his chest as Steve carried you to your bedroom. He kindly tucked you into bed and kissed your cheek before leaving. You quickly fell asleep after.

~~~

Tony hadn’t slept in three days. He was reading over your files for the hundredth time. His eyes were skimming the pages, skipping from line to next random line, not able to focus.

1996

The fetus was injected with the serum mixture. Both the fetus and the host are showing no signs of symptoms.

The subject was born healthy. So far no signs of any abilities.

1997

Today the child manifested remarkable strength for being one year old. The child is now showing signs of super strength.

The child fell while trying to walk, resulting in a few bleeding scrapes. Before the child could be taken to medical, the scrapes had been healed. The child was then cut with a small blade to further test the occurrence. The child completely healed within minutes.

The host agent finally decided upon a name: Y/N.

1998

During today’s lesson, Y/N didn’t get her way. The instructor suddenly changed their mind as Y/N continued to fight. A new instructor was brought in with the same result.

Y/N was put through trials to test her mind control. During the trials, multiple instructors began feeling emotions that weren’t their’s. As the trials continued, instructor’s started to notice that other instructor’s emotions were being manipulated.

1999

Despite her age, Y/N has started daily education courses on math, science, technology, and languages. The languages that will be focused on first will be English, Russian, Spanish, Mandarin, and French. After full mastery of those languages, she will undergo instruction on other languages.

Y/N’s education will be closely monitored to ensure high standards and so that she will be able to seamlessly blend into any environment HYDRA may need her to.

We have begun to do regular studies on her brain. We are using any method available.

2000

The Winter Soldier was brought in to help instruct Y/N on weapons and fighting styles. The Asset has been instructed to not take it easy on Y/N. Her age does not matter.

2001

Y/N has begun to grow defiant. Y/N will begin to have her memories routinely wiped, like the Winter Soldier.

2005

Alexander Pierce came to inspect Y/N for the first time. She exhibited most of her abilities: strength, healing of the Winter Soldier, and mind control. She attacked Alexander Pierce. The Winter Soldier had to stop her. Pierce was impressed, ordering for her memories to be wiped and her training to increase.

2011

A female HYDRA agent has begun teaching Y/N the art of seduction.

Y/N’s art of seduction lessons went as planned for the first week.

Y/N has been fighting her instructors. As punishment, her memory will be wiped and she will be kept in the cage for a week.

Tony Stark, aka Iron Man, and SHIELD broke into the facility in which Y/N was being held. She was taken.

Y/N has been placed with a foster family in California. She will be closely monitored.

An agent disguised as a SHIELD social worker paid her a visit to her school. She claims to not remember anything before her rescue.

2012

Tony Stark has adopted Y/N.

2013

Y/N moved to New York City with Stark. She is living in the Avengers Tower. She is no longer attending public school, she is taking online classes.

A HYDRA agent on assignment as a SHIELD agent got a hold of Y/N’s SHIELD file. She does not remember her past.

Y/N has been regularly training. It is clear that her subconscious remembers some of the HYDRA training on fighting techniques.

Tony pulled his eyes away from his scattered reading. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stop the tears from coming. HYDRA was still watching your every move. And the things they did to you… Tony wanted to wipe every member of HYDRA off of the face of the planet. That was his goal.

Unknown to everyone else, Tony had been rerunning background checks on every person that worked for the Avengers Initiative and Stark Industries. He had fired every person that looked even remotely suspicious but couldn't find anyone that was actually HYDRA. Tony was even going out on secret missions, trying to finish off HYDRA loose ends. He knew that he should tell someone—tell you—about your files and what he had been doing, but he didn’t know who he could trust anymore. Including you.

Tony’s chest tightened, his breathing started to become laborious, and he began shaking.

“Shit,” Tony muttered. “Not now.”

“It seems like you are having a panic attack, sir,” FRIDAY stated.

“You—You th–think?”

“Do you need me to call someone for you?”

“Nnnn—nnnoooo…”

Tony believed that he could handle it. All of it.

~~~

“I’ll come with you. Maybe someone else needs to talk some sense into Tony.

“That’s what Pepper’s for, Steve,” you responded. The two of you were walking out toward where the quinjets were parked. “I’ll be fine. I’m only going to be gone for a few days, then I’ll be right back here.”

“Let me just fly you.”

“Steve, you taught me how to fly the quinjet, besides FRIDAY’s going to pilot the whole 30 minute flight because I want a nap before I need to work.”

“Y/N.” Steve got in front of your path and stopped.

“I appreciate the concern, but I’ve got this. Okay?”

He waited a beat before responding. “Okay.”

“I’ll see you in a few days.” You walked past him and turned around to walk backwards. “If I remember correctly, there was some mention of a birthday party.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Your friend Sam doesn’t do well with surprises.”

“Clearly. Call me when you land.”

“Will do.”

You turned back around and headed for the quinjet. You got it off the ground, waving to Steve, before turning on autopilot. You honestly had mixed feelings about going back to the Tower. The Compound was feeling more like home than the Tower now. You knew that Tony would be okay if you moved into the Compound full time, but you didn’t want him to feel like you were abandoning him. And you didn’t know if you were ready to be away from your father for that much. Though, it did seem that Tony was okay with it since he was pushing you away.

You set up a cot in the back of the quinjet and curled up for a nap. You needed to sleep, especially if you were going to do what Pepper needed you to do and if you were going to run into Tony.

“Miss Stark, we’ve landed,” FRIDAY announced, waking you from your nap.

“Thanks, FRI,” you yawned, sitting up with a stretch. “Is, uh, is Dad home?”

“Mr. Stark is home and in his lab. I have already informed him of your arrival.”

“Great,” you muttered.

Grabbing your things, you took a deep breath before walking off the plane and heading inside. You leaned up against the wall of the elevator upon entry and watched the floor numbers move. You groaned when you realized you weren’t being taken to your floor.

“FRIDAY?”

“Sorry, Miss. The Boss told me to drop you off at his lab.”

You sighed. You were hoping that there was going to be a few hours before you ran into Tony. But if he wanted to see you, maybe something was going to change. You left your bags in the elevator and stepped out into Tony’s personal lab. Tony’s head spun towards the sound of my footsteps.

“Hey, kid!” He greeted you with a smile. You noted that his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Not to mention, the dark circles that seemed to have grown since the last time you saw him.

“Hi, Dad,” you replied. You glanced at the holograms he was working on. It was a watch, in which he had a replica of it on his wrist. “What are you working on?”

“Some new nanotechnology.” He turned off the holotable and gave you his full attention.

You nodded. “Well, FRIDAY brought me here on your request. I’ve got a lot of things to do for Pepper so if we could hurry this along that would be great.”

“I just wanted to see how you were doing. I feel like we haven’t seen too much of each other lately.”

“Well, that’s not exactly my fault now, is it?”

Tony was a bit taken back by your tone, but not by your words. He had been busy trying to protect you. “I admit I have been busy. But you have been spending more time at the new facility so it’s really both of our faults.”

“Are you serious?” Tony didn’t immediately respond. He looked away like he was nervous. “What are you hiding from me? Why are you hiding from me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Everything’s fine.”

“Bullshit.”

“We’ve both just been busy, kid.”

“Usually people aren’t too busy for their kids… You know what?” You shook your head. “Nevermind. I can’t do this right now. I really need to go to work.”

You turned around and headed for the elevator. You wished that your dad would call after you, to stop and talk about whatever was going on with him. But he never did, letting the elevator close between the two of you.

next chapter >

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inkbyajm · 11 months

Text

of forgotten people

masterlist: part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

tropes: fluff, hurt/comfort, age-gap

word count: ~860

author’s note: this is a short excerpt (maybe the first chapter?) of a story i’ve been thinking about for the past few weeks. this is just to establish the vibe of something that will probably turn into a series. i hope you enjoy a little melancholy.

————-　❈　————-

“Joel.”

Tommy’s voice resonated in his brother’s ears. The eldest Miller was lost in his thoughts for what seemed like the 5th time in the past half-hour that they’ve been in the Tipsy Bison. He only responded by blankly looking up from his spot around the table.

“You alright, big brother? Wanna share what’s on your mind?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just,” Joel paused, hesitating whether or not he should be sharing his doubts. I mean, what a fucking coincidence would that be.

“I was walking around town today and... Jesus, I’m gonna sound like I’m going insane, which I probably am, but,” he let out another breath “I saw this person, this woman, standing in front of the barn and... it looked a lot like someone I knew back then. Before the outbreak, I mean.”

“Shit, didn’t think your memory was that good, old man.” Tommy joked, taking another sip of his pint.

That was the problem. His life 20 years ago and the one he was currently living felt like two different realities, he could have been mixing up his recollections. He wasn’t even sure he remembered her all that well, despite everything they’ve been through in a relatively short amount of time.

What he did know is that she was the type of person a kid would look up to: kind, passionate, crafty, incredibly smart and with a strange sense of humour. And while she was mature, she was also naïve, and indecisive, and petty, and emotional at times. But he remembered ardent feelings, feelings she displayed openly, without fear. The same couldn’t be said about him.

“Yeah, looks like all those hits to the head are finally taking effect.” he mumbled into his own drink, earning a chuckle from his brother.

“Listen, as long as you’re making sense, I ain’t complaining.”

————-　❈　————-

The two sat around for another hour, chatting to a few people that stopped by their table for a quick hello. Tommy was mostly doing the conversing as Joel still found it a bit hard to adjust to a life in a functioning community. While the former was busy talking about supplies for the new playground with Dennis (Danny? Dean?), Joel felt like he needed another pint and headed to the bar.

It was Friday night, which meant the Tipsy Bison was busier than usual, with everyone celebrating the end of the week. It took a lot of convincing from Tommy to get his older brother to go out for drinks. He rarely ever agreed, usually preferring to stick to the bottle of whiskey he was gifted when him and Ellie first arrived. Nevertheless, Joel felt like he was finally starting to recognise some of the faces around town, which for him was a small accomplishment.

Making it to the bar, he patiently waited for one of what appeared to be three bartenders to serve him. The conversations all around him were all blending together as a soft rock tune played in the background for more ambiance. But it didn’t stop him from singling out a particular voice, a laugh, among dozens. It sounded more mature than the one etched into the far back of his mind.

He looked up from his spot at the far end of the counter, searching for the source of the anxiety growing in his chest. It’s been twenty years. It cannot be her. You are working yourself up for nothing.

And yet he strained his neck to get a better view, and there she was. Her appearance had changed slightly, she looked more rugged, more...experienced. But it was her, or at least the older version of her. You’re losing your damn mind, Joel, snap out of it.

As if she were reading his thoughts, the woman turned her head and the two made eye contact. Her smile wasn’t the only thing that had dropped as the glass she was originally drying found itself in pieces on the ground.

Joel’s ears began to ring and he found himself backing away from the counter, bumping into a few displeased townsfolk as his feet clumsily carried him out of the pub. He didn’t even realise how suffocated he felt inside until he took a big breath of the fresh evening air, leaning against a utility pole for support, not trusting his knees to hold him up. His thoughts were racing a million miles an hour, his heart was just about 10 pumps away from officially stopping.

“Mr. Miller?”

Her voice, faint and quavery, came from behind him. It ain’t her, you are seeing ghosts. Go home. It took everything in him not to run away, to get hold of himself and his emotions as the world felt like it was crumbling down on him. Finally, after what felt like hours, he braced himself and hesitantly turned around to face his past.

It was just the two of them stood outside in the dimly-lit streets of Jackson. The only sound that filled the heavy silence were the muffled noises coming from the wooden walls of the Bison. Her eyes, those pleading eyes, glistened ever so slightly with tears.

“Joel.”

————-　❈　————-

masterlist: part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

#joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller x you #joel miller x fem!reader

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mirasantidotes · 2 years

Text

Messy Annotations - Chapter 1

(GIFs not mine)

Read chapter 2 here

Summary: You meet Javi at your local library and notice he's reading your favorite book. You two hit it off and spend your day together, just talking and getting to know each other before you spend the night at his house on accident.

Character: Javi Gutierrez (TUWOMT)

Content Warnings: very ooc!javi, shy!javi, sunshine!reader, reader has wavy hair, reader lives in spain, very fluffy, reader's love language is touch, implied slight age gap (reader is in their 30s), can be read platonically or romantically, a LOT of blushing (a little too much), reader goes to college later in life, HUGE bookworm!reader, no use of y/n. Let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: Thank you for your notes and compliments on Dance With Me; it means a lot! Also, just send an ask/comment and tell me if you'd like a part 2 to this, I had a lot of fun writing it, and I have a few ideas already for a part 2. If you have any other ideas for fanfics, my asks are open for requests! I hope you all enjoy this; it took me forever to get done, and I had an insanely hard time coming up with how I wanted this fic to turn out. The struggle was totally worth it though; this is probably one of my favorite fics I've written!

All of my posts with an * in the title contain smut, or mentions of it. Minors DNI.

(Divider by saradika)

Living in Spain has been one of your biggest dreams, and you finally moved here for college abroad to work on your infuriating art major, even though you feel like you’re a little old for college now that you’re in your 30s. You’re an underground artist, and you’re just itching to get your work out there to be noticed by the public. You’re an absolute ball of sunshine, and to be fair, you’re the most energetic and outgoing person you know, but, you don’t really know too many people in Spain yet, but that’s beside the point. You really are energetic, though— almost too much. There is one thing that you’re always excited about though, no matter what— reading. Finding new books to binge-read in one sitting is always one of your favorite activities when you have free time. The library cashier is extremely tired of you coming in every week.

Javi Gutierrez, on the other hand, is the polar opposite of you. He’s a shy, new up-and-coming actor who doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life after the success of his first movie. Though fame is finding him well, much more than anticipated, he doesn’t particularly want to make another movie quite yet, now that his co-star, Nic Cage, has left Spain. Even with his newfound fame, he still enjoys going out and doing activities he enjoys, which mainly include going to the local library. He prefers reading in a library than in his own house, alone. He likes the atmosphere the library gives him, but most of all, he loves tucking himself away strategically in the corner of the library window, so he can look out and see the bustling streets of people living their everyday lives.

On a Friday afternoon, you have some free time to yourself, and you, of course, decide to head to your local library. You never go on Fridays— your typical day off is Sunday, but today was different; today was a professor work day at your college, so you had no classes or any assignments to complete, meaning you could spend your whole day reading. You walk into the library happily, as always. The smell of the ink bled into the pages of hundreds of books filled your lungs— a scent you thoroughly enjoyed. You finally pick out a new book that you’ve been eyeing, having heard good things about it online and from the people in your college.

Even though you got what you came for, you couldn’t walk into a library and buy just one book— no, you had to buy at least 5 every time you came in. After picking out your books, you waltz to the cashier, who already appeared annoyed at you being there. A strict, slightly older woman— always had an attitude, but that didn’t let you stop being your energetic, bubbly self to her. “You know, you still need to return the other 10 books, right?” she says, sternness filling her tone.

“Yeah, yeah! I know; I’ll bring them all back next time I come!” you say, smiling widely, setting the books down on the counter. The woman simply rolls her eyes at your response, knowing you’d be back in a few days and she’d have to deal with you again. After she scans the books, the woman tells you, “Your total is going to be €15.75.” €15.75… you think. You only brought €15— you sigh in response; the woman before you, never having heard that sound come out of you, and looked at you like you had 3 heads planted firmly upon your shoulders. You searched your pockets and purse but had no change.

“It’s just 75 cents. Can’t you let it pass this once?” You plead but to no avail. The woman shakes her head harshly, muttering something about ‘library rules,’ but you were too disappointed by her head shake to take care of what she said. You sigh once more— looking around the library; surely somebody would be willing to give you a dollar, right? Right?

You feel increasingly upset the longer you look through the library aisles for someone to ask until your eyes finally land on a gentleman wearing a mustard-colored shirt full of wrinkles. He was sitting in a corner, away from everything, with his legs planted on a footrest and his face hiding behind a book. You hold your finger up to the cashier, signaling for her to wait as she sighs in response. You walk up to the man, “Hey! I hate to ask you this, but I was just checking out, and I’m 75 cents short. Do you mind? It’s okay if not—” you say quickly, trying not to seem too over the top.

The man lowers his book, and a shy pink rose upon his cheeks while nodding slowly. “Um yeah, sure,” he whispers, almost inaudible, as he shifts himself in his seat and reaches into his jeans pocket for some change. He pulls a €5 bill from his pockets and raises his hand for you to take it before settling back into his seat.

You take the bill from between his fingers, grinning brightly— “Thank you so much! You’re a lifesaver,” you say, full of enthusiasm. A soft smile washes over the man’s face before nodding, his cheeks still showing a light rose color. You turn on your heel and rush back to the cashier, proudly waving your money in the air. After checking out, the cashier hands you your change, and you grab your books. Before you leave, you turn back and walk toward the man again. He seemed to have heard you coming and had lowered his book just enough to see you already standing there. “Hey again, thank you for lending me some money. Here’s the change!” you say, holding the money out to him, close enough for him to reach it. The man lowers his book into his lap, smiling softly, takes the money from your grasp, and messily pushes the money back into his jeans.

You finally catch a glimpse of the man's entire face, his curly brown hair complimenting his tanned skin and the patchy stubble on his face. You grow curious and look into the man’s lap to see what book he’s reading— and to your surprise, it’s your favorite book ever. “Oh my God,” you exclaim, a little too loud for a library, startling the man slightly and causing him to look at you. After adjusting your tone accordingly, you continue— “that’s my favorite book!”

His face lights up brightly, “Really? That’s awesome,” he enthuses, yelling in a whisper. Just for a moment, he’s brought out of his shy state. He adjusts his position again, sitting forward in his seat and removing his feet from the footrest. “I’ve loved this book since it came out,” he continues, “I’ve never met anyone else who likes it.”

“Yeah, all the books from this author are really good! I especially love this one, though,” you finish, smiling as you sit on the footrest in front of the man, hugging your new books to your chest. The man, shy once more, becomes flustered until “Hey, I was thinking of going to the coffee shop down the street. Do you wanna come with?” you say, tilting your head to the side.

The man’s eyes widened, with even more heat rising into his cheeks— another thing they had in common; coffee. “Yeah, of course,” he enthuses, breaking eye contact just enough to stand up out of his seat while grabbing his bag and placing his book inside of it, “I love that place!” he finishes as he puts the bag messily around his shoulder, looking back at you. He looks down at the books you’re holding in your arms, and as you stand up, he asks, “Do you wanna put your books in my bag? So you don’t have to hold them—” he says softly.

“Yeah, sure! Just don’t steal them for yourself,” you joke, making yourself chuckle before handing him your books. The man blushes at your words, taking the books from your hands and placing them all inside his bag. The two of you walk out of the library, and you wave to the cashier as you leave; she, of course, didn’t wave back. As the two of you walk towards the coffee shop, you get lost in conversation about your favorite books. The walk was the same distance it always was, but with the man walking with you, it felt a lot shorter than usual.

Just as you reach the shop, you stop suddenly. You hadn’t asked the man his name, nor had he asked you. “I forgot to ask, what’s your name?” you say, turning to him, smiling nervously.

“Javi,” he says, his rich, deep voice rings through your ears. A soft laugh escapes your mouth, full of nervousness as you tell the man your name, him joining your chuckles soon after. The two of you sit at one of the tables placed by a window.

The two of you gush over your newfound subjects in common— a not-so-known favorite author and coffee. What could be better? The two of you spend well over an hour hogging up the coffee table, just getting to know each other, until a worker comes and tells you that you have to leave if you aren’t going to buy anything else. The two of you are already so strung out on coffee you both know either of you doesn’t need any more in your system. “Hey, do you wanna come over to my house for a little bit?” Javi asks, “You don’t have to, obviously; I know we just met and—”

You spring your head up at his words; you’ve been having a lot of fun talking to Javi so far; what could it hurt? “Of course!” you interrupt his concerned rambling. He simply smiles in return, picking up the bag under his seat as he stands up. The two of you walk to the door of the coffee shop, “I walked here from my house, so it’s a bit of a walk—” he says, as he opens the door for you to walk out, “I hope that’s okay,” he finishes as he walks out behind you, closing the door.

“Yeah, that’s alright!” you say excitedly as the two of you start walking toward’s Javi’s house. Obviously, you don’t go to random people’s houses like this, but Javi felt— different. He felt trustworthy, considerate, and loving. You’re brought out of your thoughts while on the way there as you spot a flower field to the left of you. You stop walking to look at the view for a moment, Javi noticing almost immediately. He turns back to face you, a slight smile planted on your face. You’ve never been to this area of Spain before, and already, it’s so much more beautiful than where you currently dwell.

Javi looks for a moment at your wavy hair, lightly being blown in the sunset’s wind, the sun glowing brightly in the backdrop of you, lighting illuminating your features. As he realizes he’s been staring, he clears his throat and fixes his shirt before stepping toward you. Just as he reaches your side, you look at him. “It’s beautiful,” you declare, still looking at the field. Javi looks at you and nods, “Yeah, it is.” before turning his head to look where your eyes were fixated. Suddenly, you interlink your arm with his, tugging at him to follow you into the field. “Come on, let’s pick some flowers,” you say, excitement filling your body, with a slight red washing across your face as you unlink your arm, running your hand down to hold his, as you turn around to face him while walking backward as laughter fills the air. Javi blushes at the sight of you for what seems like the millionth time today— as you two reach relatively far from the path you were previously walking, you let go of Javi’s hand, your body missing his touch.

You bend down near a patch of red carnations, picking a flower and lifting it to your nose, smelling the sweet yet subtle clove-like scent and letting it fill your body, making you feel warm inside. You stand back up and turn around to see Javi standing behind you, hands in his pockets with the corners of his lips upturned softly, causing gentle wrinkles to form around his dark-colored eyes. You walk up to him and place the flower behind his ear, letting his soft curls hug around the stem to hold it in place— light pink creeps up his neck and onto his cheeks once more.

You giggle at his face, full of awe— you break your gaze from his kind face enough to look up into the sky, causing Javi to do the same. You notice it’s getting late, and just as you’re about to say you should get going to Javi’s house, he speaks, “It’s getting late; we should hurry before it gets too dark,” his deep voice with his rich accent echoing through your ears as if honey had a sound— making your cheeks flush.

You simply nod in agreement while holding your hand out for him to take it. He has to look back between your hand and your face a few times before finally taking it in his own, making a few soft chuckles escape your mouth, causing him to do so too. After about 20 minutes of walking, the bright orange rays shining behind you slowly disappear until finally reaching it’s end, and the lightness of the moon begins peeking out from the horizon. The two of you reach Javi’s home, and God— was it beautiful. You wouldn’t admit it, but you felt slightly jealous while walking into his pristine villa home when you’re reminded of your small college dorm.

“Do you want a drink or anything?” he asks, breaking the non-awkward silence the two of you had throughout your walk.

“Sure! Water’s fine,” you reply happily, looking at all of the knick-knacks Javi had littered throughout his home. Javi returns with your water in hand, nearly running to get back to you.

After handing it to you, he speaks up, “Do you wanna go sit on the couch— or?” he says, his voice laced with a sort of sweetness that makes your body tingle. You nod in response, taking a sip from your water. Javi guides you to his living room; the large room before you opens up as he turns on moody, orange lights that remind you of the sunset you saw a mere hour ago. It feels homey— welcoming, and warm. Something you don’t experience at your own college house. Javi walks over to the couch, covered in soft blankets and a few pillows, and kicks his feet up on the coffee table. You follow closely behind, sitting close to him, your knees almost brushing against each other as you sink into your seat.

Javi hums as if he’s forgotten something essential and stands up without saying anything. He disappears into the other room, leaving you there. After a few moments, he returns— an old worn book in his hands. “This is one of my favorite books,” he says, sitting back down next to you, “I want you to read it,” he finishes softly, looking at you while motioning for you to take it. You oblige— surprisingly, it’s a book you’ve never read, so of course, you’d be willing. You open the book to the first page, glancing at it, then turning over a few pages before running your fingers through each and every page, noticing messily written notes and scribbles written out into the worn margins. You absolutely adore annotated books, and it’s one of your favorite pastimes, besides actually reading the book in the first place.

You let a few chuckles escape your mouth as you look up to see Javi’s relieved expression grow on his face after your silence. You reach over to hug him quickly, causing him to laugh too, his hand resting on your upper back. You pull away, returning your attention to the book, positioning yourself cross-legged before him, sinking into your seat even more. “Can I read it now?” you ask, smiling, still not looking at him but skimming the first page's notes.

“Of course,” he says simply, smiling. You start reading immediately— resting your head on the side of the couch. You point out a few rather silly remarks he’s written down on the first page, causing you both to giggle. You spend well over an hour just reading the pages of the book, occasionally engaging in a conversation about what you’re reading, Javi being just as fascinated with it as you are, if not more which makes you chuckle. After a while, a “Can I lay my head on your lap?” escapes your mouth, looking at Javi for consent. He nods as his face heats up, and you lay down, the book above your face, as you two still talk about the notes he’s made and the careless actions the main character makes in the book.

About halfway through the book, you hear Javi’s stomach grumble something mean, causing you to laugh. “You hungry?” you ask sarcastically, looking at him, letting a few more chuckles escape your mouth. You receive a nod as he joins in on your laughter, a slight tint of embarrassment hidden within as he hides his face behind his hands. You lift your head off his lap, setting the book down on the couch, not leaving the page you left off on. “You should eat,” you say softly.

“Yeah,” he pauses, thinking. “Do you want some cake? That’s what I’m going to have,” he finishes, looking over at you, eyes glistening in the light’s warm tones that fill the room.

You smile, “That sound’s perfect!” you say, nodding. He stands up, whispering a quiet ‘okay’ sound before disappearing into the other room once more before returning a few minutes later with two plates, each with red velvet cake and a napkin on each. You let out a small squeak at the sight, making your mouth water slightly at the richly flavored cake. As you two are eating, Javi finishes rather quickly, and you notice frosting on his face he doesn’t seem to notice. You pick up your napkin to wipe it off, his cheeks turning visibly red, as does yours, the both of you gigging.

Once you finish your cake, you set both plates down on the coffee table, along with the book, and lay your head back down on his lap. “Wanna watch some TV?” you ask, looking up at his face and into his eyes as he meets yours.

“Sure thing,” he says, nodding while looking down at your face before reaching for the remote to turn on the TV. After an hour of watching the show, you fall asleep, head still resting in his lap. He notices shortly after when he hears the soft snores that escape your mouth, which is slightly agape. He smiles at the sight, lowering his hand down to brush some of the hair out of your face. He feels your cold skin and grabs the blanket from behind you that was messily thrown over the couch’s back, and lays it over your body, causing you to stir slightly in your sleep. He lowers the volume of the TV so as to not wake you up.

Shortly after, he looks down at your sleeping state, whispering a light "Goodnight, hermosa (beautiful)," before he leans back onto the couch deeper, sighing contently, before falling asleep for the night, with you in a deep sleep on his lap.

248 notes · View notes

hbyrde36 · 6 months

Text

Chapter 2: Into My Heart

Written for the @strangerthingsreversebigbang

Art below and here by @glitterfang

Beta'd by @penny00dreadful

Rating: E | WC: 4371 | Chapters: 2/2 | AO3 Link

CW: Smut

Eddie tucked the bottle of whiskey, concealed in its nondescript brown paper bag, under his arm—freeing his hands to unlock the apartment door. Wine just wasn’t going to cut it tonight, he’d decided on his way home. Disappointment to this degree called for something stronger, and as luck would have it the liquor store was a convenient stop on his way.

“Honey! I'm home!” He called out, kicking the door closed behind him hard enough to shake the walls.

Chrissy startled, jumping about a foot in the air from her seat on the sofa. “Do you have to do that every time?”

He grinned, tossing his keys on the little table they kept by the door.

She flipped him off.

Their apartment was small, its entrance, living room, and kitchen all essentially one big room, and he could feel her eyes tracking his every movement as he crossed the space. Wordlessly he took a rocks glass out of the cabinet and sloshed about a shot and a half's worth of amber liquid into it from his newly acquired bottle, and downed it all in one go.

Could he have just used a shot glass? Probably. But this way was classier, and he liked the feel of the heavy bottomed cup in his hand. He’d drink the second one a little slower, maybe even add some ice.

“Well, that’s not a good sign. Hard session?” Chrissy asked.

Hard.

A manic laugh bubbled up from his throat as he thought back to the beginning of his appointment with Steve. “You could say that.”

“That’s… concerning.” She mumbled, upending her wine glass to catch the final drops before setting it down on the table. “Might as well just bring yourself and that bottle over here. Come sit, tell me all about it.”

Eddie was too keyed up to sit. He paced back and forth in front of the couch as he went through the whole thing detail by detail. He wasn’t sure what the ethics were of recounting the entire interaction for her, particularly the sensitive bits—about Steve's sensitive bits, but he supposed there was no such thing as tattooist/client confidentiality.

“Maybe she’s just like, a really close friend?” Chrissy said when he was done.

“No, Chris. I'm telling you, he basically called her his soulmate. You should have seen the way he glowed when he talked about her. It was like his whole stupidly-fucking-pretty face lit up from the inside.”

Chrissy groaned, taking a swig directly from his bottle, like a heathen, and slumped down in her seat.

“I want thaaaaat.” She whined.

Eddie plopped down hard next to her, heaving a sigh. “Don’t we all.”

In an attempt to put it all out of his mind and enjoy what was left of his Friday night in peace–-without being plagued by thoughts of cute little moles and dazzling hazel eyes, Eddie changed into comfy clothes, queued up the next episode in their Drag Race rewatch, and cuddled up next to Chrissy. Unfortunately, as hard as he tried to concentrate on the queens and the drama unfolding on the screen in front of him, he couldn't stop thinking about Steve. Not even the Snatch Game could hold his attention.

Apologies to you Jinkx Monsoon, Eddie mused regretfully. It’s not you, it’s me. You were wonderful.

After much hemming and hawing, and one too many woe-is-me sighs from his side of the couch, Chrissy yanked the remote out of his hand and hit pause.

Rude.

“Did you have something you needed to say, princess?”

Eddie grumbled. “I just wish I didn't have to see him again.”

“That’s dramatic.”

“What if you did it for me?”

“What? The tattoo?!”

“Come on, I'll owe you one—a big one. Just, I dunno, we'll let Steve show up for his appointment and then you’ll tell him I’ve got, like, food poisoning or whatever, and didn’t want to have to cancel on him at the last minute, so you’re going to finish up his color. I’ll show you the sketches—It’ll be great. It's more your style than mine anyway.”

Chrissy raised both eyebrows, crossing her arms over her chest. “Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out, Munson.”

“So you’ll do it?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on.” Eddie slid down to the floor, falling to his knees in front of her and lifting his hands in prayer. “Please?”

“No! This is ridiculous, Eddie! I can’t believe you’re even considering… What's the big deal anyway? So you thought he was cute, you both flirted a little, so what? Now you can’t even face the guy?”

She narrowed her eyes, staring down at his, admittedly, pathetic display. “You didn't do something embarrassing did you? Is there more to this story than you're telling me?”

“No.” Eddie reared back, giving up his wide-eyed begging which was clearly not working on her—damn lesbians and their immunity to his boyish charms—and pulled himself back up into his seat.

She hummed suspiciously.

“You don’t understand. He’s like, perfect.”

“Aww,” She cooed, wrapping him up in a one-armed hug. “You really have it bad for him don’t you?”

Eddie leaned into her, pouting. He couldn’t even argue.

She flicked his bottom lip. He flinched away.

“Ow!”

“No pouting!”

She huffed a laugh, but when he didn’t crack her mouth turned down into a sympathetic frown. “Are you absolutely sure there’s no hope?”

“Chris, he’s covering up one woman's name with a bird to represent another. He’s taken—and an idiot. A very hot, very sweet, kind to kids and old ladies, idiot. It’s over, that’s it, no chance.”

As if to mock the way he was dreading their upcoming appointment, the next six weeks flew by for Eddie in a blur, and before he knew it the day had arrived. It was another Friday afternoon appointment, apparently the only time Steve was available between his work schedule, spending time with his D&D loving adoptive brother, and whatever other altruistic endeavors he got up to in his daylight hours. Probably saving kittens from trees and shit.

At least he wouldn’t have to go through it alone this time, Chrissy had promised to stick around whether she had a client or not, though, he wasn't naive enough to think she was doing it solely out of the kindness of her heart. Oh no, she wanted to get a look at Steve with her own eyes and see what all the fuss was about.

Eddie paced back and forth in his studio, arranging and rearranging his supplies and setup as he watched the clock tick down to Steve’s arrival.

“Oh my god, since when did you become so high strung?” Chrissy gaped at him from the doorway.

He wondered how long she’d been watching him freak out.

“I don’t fucking know, alright?!” Eddie hissed, sitting down heavily in his desk chair. He picked up the color mock up of Steve’s tattoo, the one he’d be using as a reference, and ran a finger along the edge. “He just… I dunno, he weaseled his way inside me and now I can’t shake him.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Gross.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

The bell above the front door dinged, the sound carrying into his room, and Eddie peered back at the clock. Ten minutes early—the boy was punctual, he’d give him that.

Chrissy smiled mischievously, darting back out to the lobby. Eddie raced along behind trying to catch up, knowing full well it would be a bad idea to leave her alone with Steve for any length of time. She’d probably try to interrogate him or something.

Eddie locked eyes with the man of the hour the moment he slid around the corner, his shoes squeaking on the linoleum. An easy smile spread across Steve's face. He looked genuinely happy to see him, but that was probably due to the prospect of finally getting his tattoo finished.

“Eddie,” Steve released his name like a sigh of relief. “It’s good to see you.”

It sounded like he meant it, and If Eddie didn’t know better he’d think Steve had also spent the last 6 weeks pining, and thinking of their time together obsessively.

Until this moment he had held out hope that maybe somehow this time would be different. That maybe going into it knowing that Steve wasn’t available would make it easier to deny the pull he felt, but then he cast his eyes down and realized Steve was wearing those same fucking Levi’s again.

It’d been weeks. It could easily have been a coincidence, just the next clean pair of pants in his rotation, but there was no way Steve didn’t know what he looked like in those unholy jeans. Had he done this on purpose?

Either way, Eddie didn't know whether to be grateful for the view, or throw himself out the window into oncoming traffic.

Chrissy cleared her throat loudly.

Shit. He’d been staring too long again.

Eddie shook himself mentally. “Steve, this is Chrissy.”

“Nice to put a face to the name.” She said, giving a little wave.

Steve's eyes slid briefly to Eddie, narrowed and curious. Probably wondering why he’d told her about him at all.

He was gonna kill her.

“You too.” Steve said with a quirk of his brow. “Eddie told me how you two met and opened this place together. Must be great to get to work with your best friend everyday.”

“Could be worse I guess.”

Eddie cut her a hard look. “Don’t you have some cleaning to do?”

With a smirk, Chrissy winked at Steve, then mercifully did head off towards her own studio.

“We should go get started.” Eddie said, leading the way to the back to his room. “Sorry about her.”

Steve chuckled. “She seems nice. I think Robin would like her.”

Eddie clenched his jaw, turning away to hide his scowl. “I’m sure she would.”

Steve knew the drill now and took off his shirt without being asked, getting comfortable in the chair while Eddie slipped a pair of gloves on and pulled his stool over, examining the healed lines of the half-finished tattoo.

He hummed, impressed. “You did a good job taking care of it.”

Steve shrugged, but Eddie noticed the way he preened a little at the praise. “I did exactly what you told me to do.”

Fuck.

There was just something about a man who followed directions.

Eddie took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly through his nose. He was going to give himself whiplash at this rate.

He prepped Steve’s skin in silence and got right to his task, trying to focus on the thrumming of the machine, instead of the rise and fall of the other man’s chest under his gloved hands—thankful that Steve didn’t seem to be having the same reaction to the initial pain that he had before.

“I told Dustin about you.” Steve blurted out after a while.

The sudden sound of his voice, as well as the words themselves caught Eddie off guard.

“What?”

Steve’s body flushed and Eddie flicked his eyes up, finding a matching shade of pink spreading over his face. “Yeah, I'm pretty sure he thinks you're the coolest guy in the world now. A tattoo artist and you play D&D? I had no chance.”

“Oh.”

Eddie went quiet, not sure what he was supposed to do with that—with any of this. He got back to work, hoping Steve would leave it there. He didn’t want to be rude, but he also didn’t want to play whatever game this was anymore.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked. “You seem… I don't know… different today?”

Eddie could have said, how would you know, you’ve only met me once? Or, we spent a few hours together, why do you care? Or something else equally passive aggressive, but… Steve wasn’t wrong and Eddie wasn’t in the business of gaslighting people.

Telling a little white lie though? That was fair game.

“I have a headache, that’s all. It’s fine.”

It was fine. He just needed to do his job and get this over with.

But of course, Steve had to be perfect and sweet about that too.

“I’m sorry. I get migraines sometimes, so I get it. Doc says it’s from getting knocked in the head one too many times playing high school sports. I was very dedicated.”

Steve laughed a little at himself, and Eddie couldn't help but look up again to see the way his eyes crinkled with it. Steve tilted his head, mouth turned up at the corners as he gazed down at Eddie. “Doesn’t seem worth it, in hindsight.”

Despite trying not to, Eddie smiled back and could feel himself getting drawn in again.

He forced himself to turn away.

“Are you sure you're alright, though?” Steve continued. “If you're not feeling well–”

“I’m fine. I'm not going to mess your ink up or anything, don’t worry.”

“Hey,” Steve said tenderly, waiting until Eddie had stilled the machine again to lay a tentative hand on his upper arm. “I wasn't worried about that.”

“Oh.” Eddie swallowed a gasp, feeling like his skin was on fire under the touch.

“We can reschedule if you need to, it’s okay.”

Fuck, Steve was entirely too thoughtful.

And what was Eddie even doing? Trying to be cold and aloof, pretending to have a headache to explain why he wasn’t talking? It wasn’t fair to the guy. It wasn’t Steve’s fault he’d developed an extremely inconvenient crush—that he couldn’t handle a little innocent friendly flirtiness without losing his mind.

“No. I promise I'm–”

I’m just an idiot.

“I, uh, took some ibuprofen before you got here. I’m already feeling better.”

Finally, Steve let it go, allowing Eddie to get back to work without disturbing the quiet between them again. At least now the silence was almost comfortable.

Art by Glitterfang

The time went by quickly. Eddie did glance up every so often to make sure Steve was okay, always surprised to find the other man’s eyes fixed on his face, rather than the tattoo, making Eddie’s stomach flip each time.

The finished piece was beautiful, and honestly Eddie thought it might be some of his best work, even if it wasn’t his usual style. After a thorough cleaning he held a mirror up so Steve could see it better. He teared up a bit as he inspected his reflection.

“It's even better than I could have imagined.” Steve turned away from the mirror to face him, smiling and looking so sincere it made Eddie’s heart ache. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. I’m really glad you’re happy with it.” Eddie bit at his bottom lip. “Well, you already know your care instructions, so i’ll get this wrapped up and you’ll be good to–”

Steve cut him off abruptly. “Do you… um, I mean, could I get your number?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Steve.” Eddie said, heart hammering in his chest. He couldn't do this. He didn’t want to only be Steve’s friend, and if somehow the other man wanted his number for more than that, well, he didn’t want to be a homewrecker either.

Steve deflated, looking hurt, which was a little ridiculous considering he was the one with a whole-ass girlfriend. “But I thought maybe… since we’re done now, and I’m not a client anymore–”

“Look,” Eddie interrupted. “It’s sweet that you want to be friends or whatever, but–”

“No, I–”

“Knock-knock” Chrissy sing-songed, appearing in the doorway rapping her knuckles on its frame. “There’s someone here to see Steve.”

Saved by the bell.

“We’re about done if you want to tell them to just–”

“Great, I'll send her in!”

Her?

Eddie was gonna kill Chrissy, for real this time.

Worst. Friend. Ever.

A very cute girl with a chin length bob bounced into the room. Eddie got as far as noticing the spray of freckles across her nose and cheeks before he had to look away, using cutting down a square of Saniderm to the correct size as an excuse.

She wasn’t quite what Eddie had pictured as the girlfriend of a gym bro—okay, Steve wasn’t exactly a gym bro but Eddie was allowed to be salty about it in his own mind if he wanted to—but to his dismay, they made a nice looking couple.

“Hey Dingus, how’s it going?” She said.

Odd term of endearment, but okay.

“Eddie, this is Robin.” Steve said.

“Yeah I figured that one out all on my own, thanks.” Eddie muttered, rolling back up to Steve on his chair with the bandage in hand.

Steve furrowed his brow, staring from Eddie over to Robin and back again. Suddenly his eyes went wide. “My roommate, Robin.”

“O… kay?” Eddie shrugged, ducking his head to start covering the tattoo. Weird fucking way to refer to your live-in girlfriend, but whatever. He was over it. He just wanted to get the happy couple out of his tattoo shop so he could go home and–

Eddie sucked in a breath as Steve lightly gripped his arm again. He looked up, ready to be annoyed—the audacity of this guy to keep flirting with him, right in front of his girlfriend, but stopped short when he saw the soft pleading look in Steve’s eyes.

“My best friend, platonic with-a-capital-p, lesbian roomate, Robin.”

Wait, what?

“Wait, what?!” Eddie nearly shouted.

He whipped his head around to look at Robin again. He’d only glanced at her before, not noticing much more than her hair and denim jacket, but on closer inspection he saw her neatly trimmed manicure, and the fact that she was wearing men’s jeans with a carabiner holding her keys hanging from one of the belt loops.

None of those things were a guarantee of course, plenty of straight women also kept short nails and had masculine leaning senses of style, but when he spotted the pink, white, and orange stripes of the lesbian flag stitched into her lapel, he figured that was as sure a sign as any.

“Oh.” Eddie breathed, turning back to Steve.

“Yeah, oh.” Steve parroted back softly, his mouth spreading into a tentative smile.

“B- but I thought… and the tattoo!” Eddie stuttered.

“Is that why you were acting so weird? Because you thought Robin was my–” Steve shook his head as if that very idea were unthinkable. “You thought that I was covering up my ex's name with a new girlfriend?”

Eddie squirmed. “...No.”

“Eddie?”

“Well, what was I supposed to think?!”

“Oh shit, were you jealous?!” Robin blurted out.

“Robin!” Steve hissed.

“Oh I'm sorry,” she said, tilting her head side-to-side, the words absolutely dripping with sarcasm. “Was I supposed to pretend the tension in here wasn’t thick enough to choke on?”

Eddie bit his tongue, locking eyes with Steve. Steve broke first, letting out a loud but very adorable snort of laughter.

Robin’s face went bright red, realizing what she’d said.

“Birdie, can you just give us a minute?” Steve asked her, when he’d regained control of himself.

“Fine,” She sighed. “But I'm only going because Chrissy said she’d pierce my nose for free.”

“Slut.”

“Shut up.”

Robin moved to leave but paused on the threshold, looking back at them over her shoulder. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” She called out, taking hold of the knob and pulling the door to his studio shut behind her.

Eddie wasn’t sure it’d ever been closed before.

“So, when you asked me for my number?”

Steve nodded. “It was because I wanted to ask you out.”

“I’m such an idiot.”

Steve reached out to tuck a stray curl behind Eddie’s ear. “Does that mean maybe you’ve changed your mind about me calling you?”

Eddie eyed up the now closed door and let himself do what he’d wanted to since the first time Steve sat shirtless in his chair, and climbed up onto it, straddling the other man’s lap.

“Is this okay?” He asked, hovering his mouth over Steve’s, close enough that a hard thought would have their lips brushing.

“Yes.” Steve whispered, leaning in to close the almost non-existent space between them.

It was tentative and unsure at first, the way Steve’s lips moved against his own, testing—tasting, but then he whined, a high-pitched and needy sound deep in his throat that went straight to Eddie’s dick, and opened his mouth wide.

Eddie took it for the invitation it was and licked inside, their tongues sliding together as their bodies did the same, grinding and making out like a couple of teenagers in the backseat of a car, both growing hard.

Suddenly Steve broke the kiss, panting, “Wait, wait, wait.”

“Shit. Sorry, I shouldn’t have–” Eddie tried to climb off but found himself held firmly in place by Steve’s broad hands on his waist.

“No, please. I just need to know… is this only a hookup for you?” Steve asked once he’d caught his breath. “It’s okay if it is,” he added quickly. “I just hoped–”

The rest of Steve’s words were lost to a gasp as Eddie ran fingers through his hair, gently tilting his head to the side for better access to the other man’s speckled neck. Eddie scraped his teeth gently over Steve’s pulse point, licking up the column of his throat to speak low and close to his ear. “While I do fully intend on sucking your dick here and now, if you’ll let me–”

Steve whined again, hips thrusting up and into Eddie of their own accord.

Eddie shuddered, pressing a kiss to the skin just behind Steve's ear and finally sat back, looking him in the eye. “I’m not really into hookups, not anymore, and I would love to take you out after.”

Steve's eyes fluttered, watching heavy-lidded and open mouthed as Eddie slid down his body until he was eye level with the obvious bulge in his pants, nosing over it.

“Not before?” Steve croaked out, struggling to speak as Eddie teased him mercilessly.

Eddie rested his cheek against Steve’s denim covered cock, looking up at him through the thick curtain of his lashes. “Sweetheart, I've been dying to get my lips wrapped around you since the first time you got hard in my chair. If it’s alright with you, dinner can wait.”

“Fuck.” Steve bit down on his bottom lip and wound a hand into Eddie’s messy bun, nails scratching at his scalp.

“So, what do you say?” Eddie asked, smoothing his hands up Steve’s luscious thighs, resting them on either side of his fly as he waited for an answer.

Steve brought his other hand down to cup Eddie’s face running a thumb over his cheek. “It’s a date.”

Eddie grinned, making quick work of Steve's button and zipper, working his pants and underwear down just enough to let his hard length spring free.

Fuck it was pretty.

Not that that was a surprise. Everything about Steve was pretty.

Eddie flicked his tongue out, tasting the tip of him, dipping his tongue into the slit to capture a bit of precum that had spilled out.

“I’m not going to last very long.” Steve rasped.

“How long has it been since someone touched you?” Eddie asked, pressing an open mouthed kiss to the pink head of his cock.

Steve whimpered. “Too long.”

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll fix that. Just sit back and let me take care of you, okay?”

As much as he wanted to take his time and enjoy the feel of Steve sitting heavy on his tongue, for hours or days, those thighs pressing in on either side of him, Eddie was acutely aware that Robin and Chrissy were within earshot, and the door Robin had so helpfully closed did not have a lock. Quick and dirty was probably for the best.

Hopefully he would have many more opportunities to enjoy Steve at his leisure, assuming their date went well.

Eddie sank down, keeping his lips tight around Steve’s shaft as he took inch after inch of him inside, until he was nose deep in coarse curly hair.

It’d been a while for Eddie too, since he’d been with anyone like this, but it was like riding a bike, once you’ve mastered the art of taking a cock down your throat—you never forget.

Steve gripped the back of his head harder, not quite holding him down the way Eddie really wanted him to, but enough to let him know he was there. Eddie moaned around him as he began to bob his head, setting a rough pace that had Steve making the most debauched sounds above him.

“God, m’so close already, Eddie.” Steve cried out in warning, taking his hand away to give him the option of moving back. As if he’d waste the opportunity to taste him.

Eddie doubled his efforts, nearly choking himself for how deep he took Steve down, swallowing around him over and over again until finally he came—hot and thick and a little bitter, but oh so wonderful.

He didn’t pull off until Steve was soft in his mouth and writhing from oversensitivity.

Steve immediately pulled him back up into his lap, crashing their mouths together, moaning into the kiss when he undoubtedly caught a taste of himself on Eddie’s tongue.

Eventually Eddie broke the kiss, helping Steve tuck himself away and wiggle back into his jeans. He ignored his own arousal, content with this moment being all about Steve, anxious to keep his promise about taking the other man out on a real date.

“So, where would you like to go? What’s your favorite restaurant in the city?” He asked, settling himself back down into Steve’s lap once his clothing was back in place.

“What if instead we went back to my place,” Steve began, pulling him in close, dragging his lips over Eddie’s collarbone as he spoke. “I cook for us, you let me return the favor, and you can take me out to dinner next time.”

Eddie sucked in a sharp breath as Steve palmed him where he was already so painfully hard in his own jeans. “Already planning a second date?”

“And a third and a fourth. Is that okay?”

“Sounds perfect.”

#steddie fanfic #stranger things reverse big bang #tattoo artist eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie fic #chrissy cunningham #robin buckley #strbb

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rogerswifesblog-updates · 2 years

Text

Chapter 3 - it’s all about the…

…Curiosity.

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Previous chapter

A/N: I’m sorry for posting late!:) I wasn’t home on Friday, I was invited to a friends birthday party and in the morning I’ve spontaneously decided to bake a cake so I didn’t had time to post this:)

Pairing: stripper!Steve Rogers x Sugar!Mommy reader

Chapter summary: Steve stays the night.

Warnings: hand job, oral m receiving, subby Steve, needy Steve, mommy kink (only once used), a hit of mommy issues, feeding

18+

Walking into your mansion, you immediately stepped out of your heels, hanging up your coat. “We should watch a movie, eat…talk…whatever you’re in the mood for”, you smiled, not meaning to make it sound like that. “Ups, I meant like..talking and stuff. You’re choosing the movie.”

Steve laughed nervously, nodding anyway and following you to the open living room, sitting down next to you on the white leather couch. A white couch? He definitely doesn’t feel safe with his pizza here. Not with the sauce.

Steve slowly looked a bit around the living room, connected to the kitchen. Next to that broad curved stairs leading upstairs, making him curious what he’d find there. Dark shiny floors, making your heels always click loudly, which for some reason sounded attractive. There were also many plants everywhere, hanging from the walls, filling the shelves and standing at the bottom of the stairs. Everything seemed so pretty. Big open spaces, white couches and loveseats, a pretty glass table in front of the couch you two were sitting on, a gray carpet feeling soft against his feet, a few paintings on your walls. For a moment he thought about whether you'd let him paint something and hang it up in your home. The windows were huge, floor to ceiling and he couldn’t stop imagining what it looked like when the sun was up. Probably bright and cozy. It would be amazing to sit on the soft carpet while the sun would shine on him, maybe sketching or just enjoying the warmth of the sun.

Sighing you put your legs up on the arm rest, carefully leaning against his side. “So, Steven Grant, tell me something about you? What’s your story?”, a quiet chuckle came from the blond man, while he chewed his pizza.

“You know my story. I told you everything yesterday”, at that you snorted. “No, Steve, you told me your financial problems. I want to know something about your person”, you said, eating your now mostly cold fries. You felt Steve putting his arm around your midsection, unintentionally pulling you a bit closer.

It took him a few seconds till he answered. “I was a small kid, but got into trouble a lot-thank god my mom was a nurse, otherwise I might’ve lived in the hospital instead a house”, he chuckled and you could feel him shaking his head. “So you got in fights?” “Yeah, I…I didn’t like bullies. I still don’t like them. I hate to see men harassing women or just people that can’t defend themselves, you know?”

A small smile crept onto your lips, while you leaned your head a bit more against him, feeling his own dropping against your. “I had broken my nose four times at the age of fifteen-or, well before”, you heard the grin in his voice. Now it also made sense why his nose was slightly crooked. Not that it made him look any worse-it actually suits him.

While still eating some of your fries, you felt Steve shift around. “Everything alright?”, you asked, looking back at him. The young man blushed lightly, pointing at his belly. “The shirt feels tighter, now that i'm full”, he grinned sheepishly, making you laugh quietly. You turned around, to face him, before slowly opening his button down. “Just take it off, Stevie. I want you to be comfortable. You’re supposed to feel good here, with me…”, you whispered, finally pulling out the material from his pants and pushing it down from his shoulders.

Just like exprected a blush crept from beneath his shirt to the tips of his ears. “How often do you work out, Steve?”, you asked, caressing his chest, feeling his chest rising. Even though the undershirt you felt his warmth against your palm.

“A bit, yeah. After puberty hit me-which only happened like two years ago-I started working out more, went jogging…and when I needed a job I got into the stripper job, so I started pole dancing and that was kinda…fun. I still like it. I can’t dance with a partner, but dancing on stage and poles is like a fun workout…” Steve looked down at his biceps, flexing it. “I really like sports, going to the gym and just enjoying nature, walking the dogs from the shelter”, while you caressed his biceps, you started smiling.

It didn’t surprise you that Steve took the dogs for walks. Somehow it was just a Steve thing to do. You only know him since yesterday and yet you already could tell he was a good guy, with a huge heart.

Without saying a thing you gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

Steve giggled, brushing over the spot you just kissed. “What was that for?”, he smiled bashfully, looking you up and down. Shrugging you leaned back against his side. “No reason, Stevie.”

„Can I ask you something?” “Always, Stevie. Don’t be shy, you can ask whatever and whenever you want.” You wiped your mouth carefully with your napkin, then your hands before throwing the tissue on the table next to the empty box.

Next to you Steve shifted a bit, turning more to you, making you slide against his chest, his hands slowly caressing your arms. “Do you do this often? I mean…looking for someone to take care of? How long will it take till you get bored of me?”

Steve's words made you pull your eyebrows together, while you slowly sat up and turned to him. Your now grease free hand touched his underarm. “Steve, it doesn’t work like that-sure, if we wouldn’t like each other, we’d probably stop it, but I don’t get bored of you. I’m here to help you as long as you need me and you’re…you’re there to make my life a bit more worth living, not just work, but sometimes a date, maybe a gala, stuff that I get invited to, just to accompany me.”

For a moment he thought about your words, looking down at your hand against his skin. “I’m just there to look pretty?” The pink patches made a reappearance on his face and you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning. “Something like that…I know it sounds silly, but when you’re associated with people like the ones I know they…treat you with more respect when you're not alone. Especially as a woman. You may be young, but a very attractive man, it’ll help my image to have you around”, you said truthfully, watching the gears in Steve’s head work, before he slowly nodded.

“So the…the relationship we have…I can ask for whatever I want and you’d buy it?”, he seemed unsure about this conversation, so you wanted to make feel saver, by gently taking his hand. “Yeah, money isn’t a problem here, I’m here to buy you stuff”, you smiled at him, watching as his cheeks blushed deeply, while he slowly averted his gaze.

“What about…sexual…stuff?” Oh, he was still nervous about that. Head shaking you squeezed his hand. “We don’t need to do anything, I promise. If you don’t want to-“ “but I do-I-I wanted to know if…if I can ask for something or if it’s only the other way around, if it’s just…when you want something”, he mumbled now fully nervous, his palm feeling sweaty in your hand.

You slowly raised your eyebrows, scooching a bit closer to Steve. “It’s both ways, not only my needs, but also yours if you want to”, he nodded at that (maybe even a bit eager now). A smirk crept onto your lips. “Is there something you want to ask me?”

He bit his bottom lip, looking down at your intertwined hands, slowly letting go of your hand and pushing it down onto his crotch, his hard cock already bulging against his jeans. Oh.

“Could you…touch me…? Please?”, he asked quietly.

Double oh.

Grinning you started to rub your hand over his pants, making him moan quietly, pushing against your palm back. „Tell me what you’ve done before-you said you’re a virgin but have you any experience?“ Your hand never stops rubbing his cock through the pants. Breathing heavily Steve looked up at you from under his eyelashes. Did he have any idea how pretty he looked when he looked at you like that?

It took him a few seconds till he finally found his voice again. „I had a few quick handjobs-just some stuff in highschool or while-while being at a party-disappearing into a friend's bedroom for a few minutes“, he laughed quietly, being interrupted by his own moan when you pressed a bit harder against the leaking head. „-and once a- a girl sucked my dick but-fuck don’t stop please-„ When he stopped talking you squeezed his cock painfully-but instead of whimpering or telling you to stop, he moaned and pushed into your hand.

You felt yourself get wetter at that.

Slowly you loosened your grip, but still stroked him. “But what, baby?” You asked curiously. He opened his eyes again, seemly confused before remembering what he had been talking about. “It was bad-she told me it was her first time doing that after and-and I had a hard time finishing-she scratched with her teeth and squeezed my balls too much-not in a nice way-“, he mumbled, his leg twitching when you rubbed over his head. At this point you noticed a little wet spot appearing right where his top was.

A smirk crept onto your lips listening to him talking about his not so positive or many experiences with sexual pleasure. You’d definitely change that. If he lets you.

“Can I open your pants, sweetheart?”, you whispered, playing with his zipper, already seeing him nod. “Yes-yes, pants and underwear”, he mumbled, his head falling against your shoulder, face buried against your soft skin.

Pushing down his pants, he helped you to do so by lifting his hips slightly. His hard cock slapping against his stomach, leaving a wet spot of pre cum on his undershirt. “Such a nice cock”, you whispered in his ear, slowly wrapping your fingers around his thick shaft. He felt unbelievably thick in your palm, warm and hard. God, you hoped he’d want to fuck you, because…yeah, you really, really wanted to feel him stretch you out.

Steve’s soft lips against your throat made you sigh gently. “My pretty boy, so lovely”, you whispered, your thumb rubbing over his leaking slit, feeling more pre cum leaking into your palm, making the movements smoother, wetter. “I’ll make you feel good, I promise..”

You pushed his shirt up with your other hand, rolling it underneath his armpits, his pecks on display, for you to gently lick over the perky nipples. “You’ve no idea how I love your pecs, sweetheart. Your pretty tits…couldn’t stop looking at them yesterday”, your grip around his cock tightened slightly, while pumping him a bit faster, his hips thrusting up into your palm.

He moaned a bit louder when you nibbled at his nipple, his hands brushing through your hair and pushing you slowly down. “Please…use your mouth…want to-want to come in your mouth-“

“Sure, babyboy”, you whispered before kneeling on the couch, one of your hands brushing over his thigh up to his cock, starting to stroke him once again, a bit quicker this time. “Ask me nicely.” This time you finally got a quiet whine out of his rosy bitten lips.

“Please use your mouth, please”, his whining made your pussy throb. He was fucking adorable.

“Where do you want my mouth, hm?”

Your thumb circled his slit, feeling more pre cum wet your hand making your slow strokes even smoother, a squelching sound following. Steve’s face turned a soft rosy color, while he looked at you with a pour on his lips when you indirectly asked him to beg.

But he will fucking beg if that’s what its take.

He didn’t hide the desperation in his eyes.

He needed it.

He needed to feel you.

Your mouth.

“Please-please use your mouth on-…on my cock. Please suck me off”, he moaned, tears welling up in his eyes, while he threw his head back when you started rubbing his cockhead a bit faster, before you started stroking his length again. “Sure Baby, all you needed to do was ask'', he definitely heard the smirk in your voice. When you finally leaned down, your ass was up your mouth close to his dick.

Steve gasped when he felt your tongue lick away the precum, tasting him and moaning against his cock, slowly licking over his length, making sure to make it messy with salvia and his own natural lubricant, till the squelching sound was filthy and loud.

You always liked it a bit messier.

As soon as he felt your lips wrap around his head, he thrusted up, feeling your hot wet and soft mouth making him lose his mind already. “Oh my-oh god”, he moaned, his head falling into his neck when he felt your tongue circling his slit. His taste hitting your tongue, you moaned around him, the feeling of your mouth vibrating around his head making him gasp.

You suckled at his leaking head, before slowly taking him deeper till he was stretching your throat. As a woman of a certain age, you’d learnt a few things over the years. You definitely had more experience than the girl that had sucked him off some time ago.

He felt his balls tighten, being full with cum that he was close to finally shooting into your mouth. Then your free hand found its way to his chest, circling his nipples and pinching. “Fuck, I’m-“, you could feel his dick twitch in your mouth, the pre cum and spit already leaking around your mouth, making it all sloppy.

His grip on your hair tightened and you felt him spill his seed in your mouth, some of it you swallowed, before pulling away and letting some of the spurts hit your face, neck and his own stomach. “Fuck mommy, feels so good”, he hadn’t even noticed the name slipping from his lips, while he fucked into your palm. You could hear the desperation in his voice and the desire flashing in his eyes, when he looked at you for a brief second. You stroked his shaft and massaged his balls till he was finished, wanting to get everything out of him, what had already been a lot.

Panting, he slowly opened his eyes, his gaze immediately finding you, watching as you liked away the rest of his cum from your fingers, some of it still on your cheek and neck, dripping onto your pearls. Fuck, his dick twitched again seein his cum mark your face and the ridiculously expensive necklace. He got to do that. Not anyone else. Only him.

Your lipstick and makeup was slightly smudged.

Moaning to himself Steve dropped his head once again against the headrest of the couch. “Fucking hell, I always thought sex gets boring after thirty”, he mumbled, both of you blush at the mention of your age gap. “Sex and any kind of intimacy is fun as long as you want it to be fun”, you whispered, grabbing his button down from the couch and firstly wiping away the cum from your face, before wiping his stomach.

“Let’s go shower, there’s a bathroom attached to my bedroom and another one on the end of the corridor, last door left and one upstairs…I’m pretty sure it’s the fourth door” You threw the shirt aside, kissing Steve’s cheek gently. “I hope it’s okay, I asked Clint to get you some clothes for you to sleep in and wear tomorrow-I…I hoped you’d stay here tonight”, you smiled, while steve pulled his boxershorts up, but the pants already falling to his ankles.

“I’m glad, what did he-or you?-get?”, he asked curiously, taking off the undershirt too, leaving him only in his boxershorts and…his SpongeBob socks. “I don’t know what he got, but Steve-please, the next Time you take off your clothes, start with your ridiculous socks”, you teased him, swatting his butt gently while standing up and wrapping your arms around his waist.

His cheeks became rosy, while he looked down to his socks, wiggling his toes. “Oh, right…I should’ve started with them-I’ll stop wearing patterned socks-“ “-don’t, I don’t want you to change that”, you kissed his cheek again, taking his hands and pulling him through the corridor. “It’s cute. Just like you.”

“You haven’t chosen a room yet, so we should do that-here’s my bedroom-“ You pointed at the open door to your bedroom. “And my office is the door to the right. You can choose whatever room you want-oh there’s also upstairs if you want to go there, there are more rooms if you won’t like these”, Steve seemed a bit overwhelmed looking through all the rooms. Comfortable looking blankets, soft pillows and expensive wardrobes, the carpets looking even more expensive than anything he had ever brought himself. But they all didn’t look homey, no pictures or any personal touches. There was even some thick dust coating most of the surfaces, like if you hadn’t been there in months.

He didn’t like the rooms-until the last one. Thankfully still on the bottom floor. He felt like he could get lost if he had to go upstairs.

“Oh, the windows are huge”, he whispered, walking into the room, looking out of the floor to ceiling windows. It was already dark outside, you could see the beautiful colorful lights of the city. “It’s always very bright here, the sun falls perfectly through the windows…”, you said, stepping closer to him, your hand slowly sliding over his back before wrapping around his waist.

It was so nice to finally feel someone’s warmth, a body against your own. Especially one like that. Sighing you leaned your head between his shoulder blades.

“Can I have this room?”, he asked quietly, his hand stroking over your arms that were wrapped around him. You couldn’t see the soft smile he wore, his gaze glued to the world outside. “Sure, even if you’d change your mind, it’s no problem if you want to choose another one”, you whispered against his skin.

When he felt you loosening your grip, Steve pulled your arms a bit tighter around his body, making you hug him longer. He felt comfortable with you, which he hadn’t in a long time-especially since last year. For some reason he liked the idea of that kind of relationship with you. It wasn’t about feelings. Just about needs. Nothing more.

He definitely needed money. And if you needed someone to spend time with you, he could do that. Why not? He’d be over at your place for the weekends and on other days he’d just stay at his place-which you said you’d pay for, too.

There would be no love involved. No real commitment, which sounded good to him. Steve struggled with relationships-that’s also why he never really had any and why he’s still so inexperienced. Since he had been in highschool-or even sooner, since he knew what sex was-he promised he’d have his first time with a person he loved. That never happened. But he still didn't want to lose his virginity to some random person-at least a close friend. Maybe, hopefully, he’d still find his love at some point.

For now he’s just enjoying living with the agreement of being your sugar baby.

Living in your home was already breathtaking-alone this room was unbelievable. It was probably as big as the small apartment he had shared with his mom years ago. He never had such a big room before-he had no room at all when he was younger and now in the apartment he shared with his two friends? His room was still way smaller than this.

It made him…speechless.

Maybe a bit emotional, too.

Yesterday he was a stripper and now he….was here. With you. A woman nearly twice his age, over a decade older than him. If someone would’ve told him a week ago he’d be here he’d laugh.

“Are you okay, Stevie?”, you whispered quietly against his back, softly kissing his skin. It wasn’t hard to notice Steve was lost in thought. The sigh that escaped Steve’s lips made you furrow your eyebrows. To make him feel a bit comfortable you started gently rubbing his arms, leaving a few last kisses at his spine, noticing a faint long scar there.

Steve took your hand in his, kissing your knuckles. “I just…it’s all so different. I can’t believe I’ll be sleeping here in this huge bed-wake up in a mansion-with these huge windows and an amazing view…I guess I’m a bit…overwhelmed.” He turned around, looking down at you before wordlessly hugging you for a short moment. You couldn’t really hug him back, because he was already stepping away from you, avoiding looking into your eyes.

“Abou the clothes…are there maybe some sweats? I’d like to sleep in-“ “yeah, sure. I’ll be back in a minute”, you smiled, slightly confused on why he became somewhat closed off suddenly. Of course you should be imagining too much into it, especially since Steve wasn’t your boyfriend-or friend, for that matter-but somehow you still felt a little sting in your chest. The many hours you had spent together were amazing, the date in its own way perfect, you’ve talked and shared a lot, some little memories here and there…

It didn’t make sense why he’d push you away now. Of course, you two weren’t supposed to fall in love, but you could still be friends? Maybe Steve still felt uncomfortable about the age gap? Maybe there was a different reason? Or maybe…maybe he was just overwhelmed with the change. You had to remind yourself how you had felt the first time your life changed drastically. It could be a lot sometimes.

“Clint got you these”, you put two begs on his bed and Steve could already see the Calvin Klein logo on the front, making his breath hitch. “I hope he got the right size. Wouldn’t want you to have to walk naked around…not that I’d mind it”, you joked a bit too lighted Steve’s mood again. He did smile a bit, but it didn’t reach his eyes. The sparkle from before was gone.

Sighing you sat down on the bed next to him, watching as his hand slowly brushed the silk cover, your own hand gently covering his. “If you wanna go home I can drive you, you know? You don’t have to stay.” Steve seemed to consider this for a moment, before slowly shaking his head. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m this moody…it’s just…a lot. In a good way, of course, but…it made me think of….just everything. I think I should go to bed and just sleep it off”, not wanting to talk about his feelings more he withdrew his hand grabbing the bags instead and pulling out gray Calvin Klein sweatpants. After thanking you and giving you a kiss on the cheek you wished him a good night and left his room so he could go to bed.

But before you even left the door he called out your name again.”where do you keep the towels? I’d like to go shower""Right, I forgot. Just in the cabinet in the bathroom, you’ll find some-the blue ones are the softest, if you ask me”, a little grin appeared on your lips. “And a toothbrush should be somewhere in the bag, I told Clint to buy one for you, because otherwise he wouldn’t have thought of that”, with that Steve started looking through the bags, finally finding a toothbrush-and from where you were standing you could make out some colorful patterns on it.

“Steve, is this a kid’s toothbrush?” “It’s Toy Story!”, he grinned at the toothbrush, before looking back up at you, making you laugh quietly. All it takes to make Steve happy are patterned and themed things?

“Clint either bought it for his kid and accidentally threw this one in your bag, taking the one for adults or he did it on purpose”, you definitely believed the second scenario rather than the first one. And Steve thought so too. Clint definitely seemed like a guy who’d still use kids toothbrushes because they’re more fun.

You watched as Steve took some other clothes out of the bad, admired them for a moment and put them back in. You had to bite your tongue not to tell him to just put them in the wardrobe. Technically the room was from now on his, he could use the space…the closets and everything else.

“Good night Stevie. You know where to find me”, you smiled, before closing the door behind you, going straight to your room where you went to take a shower yourself. After your bedtime routine your head finally hit the soft pillows, immediately pulling you into the land of dreams and relaxation, surrounded by the soft feeling of silk against your naked skin.

While you were already deeply asleep Steve was still in the shower enjoying the hot water. It was nice to have steaming water, not having to think of your roommates and just being able to stand in the stream for a moment. Normally he’d try to wash up as quickly as possible, the water only lukewarm. He liked the idea of living like that.

After his shower and bedtime routine Steve laid down in his new bed, a quiet moan escaping his mouth when his body sank into the comfy mattress. When heaven existed it felt like this. From now on he'd spend as many nights in this bed as possible. No springs that were poking him in his sensitive back, no scratchy sheets, the pillow fluffy and soft like a warm cloud.

He may have fallen in love with this bed.

Smiling, he closed his eyes for a moment, sighing.

Before he could fall asleep he texted Bucky where he was and how the date with you went. Bucky's answer came quickly, a thumbs up and a grinning smile and something about being jealous of the huge bed Steve had sent a picture of.

Just like you had told him the sun brightened his room in the morning, the warmth on his cheeks waking him up. As soon as he woke up he felt unbelievably rested and comfortable. He’d love to just lay in bed all day, but in the evening before he had made up his mind about making you breakfast-which he hoped he wouldn’t mess up.

After putting on some of the clothes Clint had bought for him he left the room, closing the door behind him. His phone was in his sweatpants pocket, waiting for a message from Bucky what he should cook for you to eat.

Steve walked (what he assumed) in the right direction, but when he finally came to the end of the corridor he realized he entered the shared living room from a completely different direction that you two had walked in the previous night. Your corridor leads through the whole house?

When he had felt unsure about which door was your room before, he definitely had no idea anymore. “Fuck”, he mumbled turning around, looking back into the corridor he had walked out from. Maybe he’s just imagining it? It could’ve been this corridor and he’s just imagining something. He should’ve paid more attention to the house when you first showed him, not your ass.

After finding your fridge (which was harder than he expected, hidden as one of the many cabinets there) he found all the ingredients for pancakes.

Pancakes he could do.

Even Bucky thinks his pancakes taste pretty good. Which is a compliment, considering Bucky is the better cook. Also considering Steve managed to burn a damn toast two days ago.

After finding the plates and mugs he put the pancakes on these, before trying to find out how the coffee machine works (he had to Google it and damn did the price surprise him.)

He even found a tray to make it easier to carry the plates and mugs.

Smiling brightly he grabbed the tray and walked to the first door he assumed was your room. Knocking he waited for your greeting, hum or anything, but nothing came. Maybe you were still asleep, so he decided to open the door quietly. “Good mo-oh”, it’s an empty room he had seen yesterday.

Sighing he closed the door again, repeating everything at the next door. “Are you fucking kidding me?”, he grumbled, noticing this was, in fact, also not your room.

It took him four more tries till he finally found your bedroom. “For fucks sake, this is a damn labyrinth.” Noticing you were still asleep he couldn’t stop himself from looking at you for a moment. Admiring your natural beauty, because you had taken off your makeup to sleep. You were lying on your side, blanket pulled up to your face, Right beneath your chin.

It…looked cute. You looked cute.

He put down the tray on your nightstand, looking down at himself for a moment, before quickly taking off his hoodie and throwing it aside. After taking the tray he gently shook your shoulder straightening quickly. (He may or may not have flexed his abs). “Good morning-breakfast in bed!”, he greeted you cheerfully.

You immediately opened your eyes, a tired smile creeping on your face while you slowly looked up at you—the smile now wider.

Then you slowly sat up, your eyes widening, pulling the blanket even higher. “Steve that’s sweet, thank you but-I’m naked”, you felt blush creeping onto your cheeks, the same happening to Steve.

“Oh I-fuck-I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-“, he immediately started apologising looking everywhere but you, the nervousness and shakiness of his voice couldn’t be more obvious. It’s sweet how nervous he was about your nakedness even though you had sucked his dick a few hours ago.

Laughing you pulled the blanket even higher to your chin. “Steve it’s fine-wait no, don’t go. Please just give me something to wear, you’ll find some shirts in my wardrobe-is that your hoodie? Why aren’t you wearing it?”, you asked when Steve picked up the navy blue material from the floor, holding it out to you. The red patches returned to his cheeks, even darker this time.

Your gaze fell to his bare chest, then to the breakfast tray and back to the hoodie. “Oh Steve!” The laugh that escaped your throat was soft and cheerful. “You’re so sweet. That’s the best breakfast I’ve ever gotten. Especially those abs, baby. Now give me the hoodie and sit with me”, you said, grabbing the hoodie, not noticing the blanket slipping down, showing a bit of your breasts-but Steve did notice. You also miss the way his cheeks tinge pink.

Steve saw your breasts.

And fuck.

He’d love to get his mouth on them.

His dick definitely twitched at the thought and he thanked god you were currently busy with dressing yourself, otherwise he’s sure you’d have noticed it. Especially since he’s not wearing any boxershorts underneath his sweatpants.

You patted the spot next to you, mentioning Steve to sit with you, already pulling the blanket up for him to slide underneath. He hesitated for a moment, before carefully sitting down next to you , not sure if he’s supposed to put his arm around you or touch you in any way.

“Could you pass me the tray?” Steve nodded, doing as you asked and watching you for a moment cutting into the pancake-to his surprise you lifted the piece to his mouth instead of your own. The usual blush crept over his chest to the very tips of his ears, making him look adorable. “Come on, Stevie, don’t be shy. Open up”, you whispered.

For some reason he shivered, his whole body immediately covered by goosebumps. “S-sure”, he cleared his throat before taking the bite, quietly chewing, while you took a bite for yourself.

A few minutes later Steve’s head was already leaning against your shoulder, enjoying being fed by you. It was really nice. Made him feel funny in his chest. In a comfortable and pleasant way. He felt completely relaxed, a bit mushy even.

“Okay, come on, I have to visit a friend today, so I’ll drive you home-maybe we could buy some groceries on our way, too, if you need anything?”

An hour later Steve was entering his apartment with two huge bags filled with groceries for-well, he didn’t want to look while you paid, still feeling a bit overwhelmed, maybe even a bit guilty, but definitely a lot. Fresh vegetables and fruits, some things he couldn’t even pronounce and a few snacks. Probably more than he actually needed, but it wouldn’t go to waste, not with him living with two roommates. (Both, Bucky and Sam were thrilled seeing all the food. Which also meant many questions about Steve’s weekend and sugar mommy )

I hope you enjoyed reading! Support your writers and leave some feedback and reblog!<3 let me know how you liked it (and how you like the series so far)

Questions? HC ideas? Drabble ideas? Thoots? (For this au or in general) -> flood my inbox!😋❤️

Any ideas/guesses what could happen in the upcoming chapters? 👀

Taglist: @slutforchrisjamalevans @joannaromanoff @marvel-wifey-86 @buckysteveloki-me @patzammit @barnesboo1967 @sebsgirl71479 wanna be tagged? Be active (FEEDBACK AND REBLOGGING) and let me know!

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#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #it’s all about the…

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dumbsmoothie · 2 months

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Today, One's Duty has been officially ongoing for a year! 🎉

For a bit of background: I play a lot of video games, but I have never been super active on social media or within fandom spaces. At most, I've looked at fanmade comics or art. I've never read fanfiction, and so I didn't even know what AO3 was until a friend convinced me to post the first chapter of One's Duty. 😅 When I did post it, I was prepared to take it down a week later. I've never been serious about writing anything, and what little I did read on social media made it seem as though people hated OC/canon pairings ("it's always Mary Sue," "it ruins the canon story," and so on...).

Now, for FFXVI: I will never say that it is perfect, because it does have issues--and the Ultimania highlighted that. However, it became my favorite out of the installments that I have played! Generally, I do not buy DLC, but I did for FFXVI and wasn't disappointed, either. While I do have friends who have both played and enjoyed the game, most didn't care about the lore as much. The funniest part was that while we all agreed that Clive lived, the reasons were all over the place because of that--with my favorite being a simple, "He's the narrator." 😂 I did succeed in converting one of them into a both-brothers-survived believer after explaining my thoughts following my second playthrough, though--and Joshua wasn't even in her top five! ✨ Live footage of that conversation:

Even though it's mostly been through comments on the One's Duty chapters, it's been really fun talking to other people about the game!

I know I've said it a few times, but the nice and funny comments have really been what have helped One's Duty make it this far. This operation is one held together by bubblegum, string, and a paperclip; I don't have anything written in advance other than a couple lines of bullet points per chapter. What you read on Friday had been typed up and edited that Monday through Thursday. Half of the time, I still make a few tweaks to words when proofreading it for the final time right before I hit post. When I posted the first chapter, I definitely didn't think I would still be writing a year later. 😂 So, thank you to everyone who has been reading and sharing your enjoyment of it! ❤️ I don't think that I will become someone who writes for multiple series, but I'll probably be in the FFXVI section for a while!

If you've made it this far, is there anyone who has been reading since around the beginning? Does anyone have an absolute favorite part or chapter? Is there any part of the canon that you're excited to see in the story?

And, perhaps the most important question of all:

#FFXVI: One's Duty #Fun Fact

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moonchildreads · 1 year

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small town

Chapter 22 - Let's Dance

IN THIS CHAPTER: Matching outfits, a parking lot talk, and Hellfire does Prom [10.5k]

WARNINGS: underaged drinking (no one gets drunk), mentions of teenage delinquency, Eddie being an unreliable source of info about Hawkins' recent oddities, shitty former friends and partner

A/N: so. this chapter was supposed to come out last week but i got food poisoning, which turned into me taking a day off work because i felt like shit and when i returned, it got insanely hectic to the point where i did three extra hours today. life is lifing, friends! in order to keep myself sane (i cried at work again today, it's not looking good folks) i'm gonna throw away the update schedule and post whenever i feel like it. i'm still gonna aim at one chapter per week though! i just won't make promises on dates anymore because nothing is working out irl at the moment. anyways, enjoy the chapter and i'll see you when i see you (soon, i promise)!

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Put on your red shoes And dance the blues

Friday, June 6th - 1986

On Thursday afternoon, Eddie Munson made the mistake of not telling Dottie Burke - his girlfriend that wasn’t actually his girlfriend because he hadn’t asked her out yet - why he couldn’t drive his friends to Donny’s family restaurant for dinner before prom. They’d been lounging on her bedroom’s window seat, radio playing at a low volume while they lazily kissed and cuddled, taking full advantage of the fact that her Dad hadn’t arrived from work yet when Eddie mentioned having to run an errand with Wayne on Friday after school. He said he was probably going to arrive late to the gathering, so they should make plans without him and he’d meet them at the restaurant whenever he was done. The metalhead noticed how Dottie freezed in his arms, lifting herself up from her comfortable position on his chest and put a little distance between them, but since she didn’t inquire further, he simply left a few hours later without ever explaining himself, leaving her to sink into a spiral of self-doubt and very familiar anxiety that left her equal parts jittery and exhausted.

That night after dinner, Dottie called her Auntie Rachel to ease the pang of rising panic, desperately seeking reassurance from the older woman who was always plenty eager to provide a pep talk to her favorite niece whenever she needed one. Everything will be fine, Rachel had said while nursing a glass of red wine all the way in her apartment in New York, her kids already tucked into bed and a newly acquired romance book waiting for her on her bedside table. Stop worrying about it, bug. Senior prom will be the best prom of your life. But as much as she tried to help, Auntie Rachel hadn’t been made aware yet of the change in her niece’s relationship with the older boy, so her advice rang hollow in Dottie’s ears, and the teen had ended up having a pitiful and unsatisfactory sleep before what was supposed to be the most exciting day of her senior year up until that moment.

Still, Eddie had behaved completely normal on Friday at school towards her and their friends, which had eased her nerves slightly. He didn’t make any comments about being anything less than happy to attend his first and hopefully last senior prom, and once he’d dropped Gareth off at his house, he’d lingered in Dottie’s driveway for ten long minutes. Eddie let himself enjoy the feeling of her mouth against his while a gentle drizzle hit his van windows before she finally headed into her house and he sped away towards his mysterious errand. Her best guess that the reason he had never really explained himself was because he was off to do something that was private to his uncle, and she hoped it wasn’t anything health related; Wayne wasn’t exactly old, but he also wasn’t young, and she didn’t like the idea of him having to go through any kind of medical emergency or invasive treatment. And so Friday evening found Dottie at her desk putting the finishing touches on her makeup look, and Eddie on the other side of Hawkins pleading to the stars above his head that his not-yet-girlfriend would understand his weird need for secrecy by the time the night had ended. Hopefully.

“How are you feeling, honey?” James asked, leaning against Dottie’s door frame as she took the last rollers out of her hair and sprayed her curls into place.

“Excited? Honestly a little bit terrified,” she confided in him. “I keep thinking that I’m gonna look around at some point and everyone will have gone home without me.”

“I really don’t think the guys would do that to you, but if they do or you want to leave at any point and for any reason, you can call me, okay? Don’t come home alone.”

“No, I know,” she smiled at him, but it looked more like a nervous grimace than anything else. “I promise I’ll call, I put coins in my purse just in case.”

“Great,” he came to stand behind her, putting his hands on her shoulders reassuringly. “But don’t go in there expecting the worst either. Everything’s gonna be great, honey, you’ll see. Just have a little faith.”

“I really hope you’re right this time, Dad.”

For the next few seconds, each of them were lost in their own painful memories from barely a year ago; James vividly remembered sitting down on their old couch with a can of beer in his hand and a rented movie in the VCR before a younger Dottie barrelled through their front door, shoes dangling from her fingers and black mascara streaking down her cheeks, running towards her bedroom where she locked herself into for 12 straight hours. In turn, all Dottie could think about was how she’d never gotten to see the inside of the gymnasium that was supposed to have been transformed into a fairy wonderland. Her Dad squeezed her shoulders with a comforting touch, dislodging the dark thoughts from her mind before dread overtook her and left her paralyzed once more. She picked up her Mom’s wedding earrings from her little jewelry box and quickly put them on, completing her outfit. Dainty gold pieces secured in place at her earlobes, she rose from her chair and twirled once to show off her full look, fluffy dress glinting as she moved.

During their weekend visit to Hawkins, Aunt Mary Elizabeth had put her sewing skills to good use and shortened the floor-length gown until it reached Dottie’s calves, the golden metallic heels they’d gotten at that heaven-sent Indy thrift store perfectly on display on her feet. She felt like a movie star, ready to walk down the red carpet with a handsome date and be adored by her fans, camera flashes blinding her as she glided effortlessly through a crowded room like she’d always belonged there. Except there were no fans, no paparazzi, and no handsome date either, just her Dad helping her into the front seat of their car so they could pick up the first of her friends for what was surely going to be a night to remember.

Their first stop of the night was at Gareth’s house. James hadn’t even put the car into park before the poor boy was jogging down his front lawn, trying to escape his mother who had been obsessively taking pictures of him in his rented black tux and bright red bowtie in various places around their home. Much to Gareth’s dismay, James insisted on saying hello to his parents before they left, so while he chatted amicably with dad Gavriel, Lydia made her son and his best friend pose in front of her bushes as a backdrop to fulfill the role of nosy journalist in Dottie’s movie star dreams. As much as they complained, the two teens hugged each other and smiled for photos until their eyes were wet from the flash going off and it was finally time to wrap up the shoot and head to their next stop.

The scenario repeated itself at Jeff’s house. His mom, Tricia, prompted Dottie to stand between him and Gareth in the middle of the living room, her son’s white suit jacket with black lapels contrasting nicely with his friend’s black jacket and white button up. As the two boys crowded their friend and planted big wet kisses on both of her rosy colored cheeks while the flashes kept going off, their vision for the night started to become clear: Dottie’s red dress, Gareth’s red bowtie and Jeff’s red Chuck Taylors and cummerbund were difficult to not notice, their club colors proudly and prominently on display leaving no doubts as to whom they belonged with. There might not have been a fancy date à la Rob Lowe or Ally Sheedy to walk hand in hand with into the packed Hawkins High gym, but the Hellfire Class of ‘86 didn’t need any of that to face their prom night - they just needed each other. Tricia promised James she’d get copies of all the photos printed for him and so the teens packed once again into the car and drove away to their final destination.

Donny’s family restaurant wasn’t as fancy as Enzo’s, but in their opinion, it was definitely way more charming. With its big sign spelling Giulia’s in cursive and a homely feel that could be experienced since before they had even walked in, big flower boxes decorated the outside and stereotypical checkered tablecloths were visible from the huge front windows. Donny had been waiting for them at one of the booths near the counter, flowers on every table and tea candles setting the mood for all the couples and groups of friends stopping by to have some authentic Italian pizza or pasta before dancing the night away in their heavily decorated school gymnasium.

“Hey, Don! Looking sharp!” James exclaimed from the driver seat when he pulled up to the restaurant as Donny rushed to keep the front door open for his friends.

“Thanks, Mr. Burke!” he beamed, blue eyes twinkling under the streetlights. “You wanna stay over for pizza?”

“No, thank you, you kids have fun, okay?” he turned to his daughter who lingered in the co-pilot seat. “Take care, honey. I love you.”

“Thanks, Dad. I love you too,” Dottie said, giving him a big hug.

James was so thankful she’d never gone through an I’m ashamed of showing my parent affection in public phase. He watched how Jeff hurried to catch the door when Donny left his post to greet Dottie, spinning her around once and making her laugh, her anxiety visibly melting as the boys made her feel more cared for and loved than she’d ever thought a friend could make her feel in her life. They all waved James goodbye as he drove away, his eyes glossy at the knowledge that his baby was rapidly growing and would inevitably stop needing him, but also incredibly proud of not only her but Donny, Jeff, and Gareth for being such good people to one another. It almost made him wish they’d moved back to his hometown earlier if it meant he’d see his daughter smile as bright as she did every day now.

“Hey, welcome!” Donny’s dad Angelo shouted from the door to the kitchen, his white apron stained with red sauce and his balding head covered with a stripy black and white bandana. “Thought you had gotten lost on your way over! Everyone likes margherita, right?”

“That the one with anchovies we had last time?” Gareth asked as they seated themselves into the booth, ignoring the looks they were getting from the other guests as they talked loudly over their heads.

“That’s the romana,” Donny said, going through the big beverage fridge at the back of the counter where his older sister Isabella was fiddling with the register. “Margherita is sauce, cheese and basil.”

“Oooooh, I love basil,” Dottie said, caging Jeff between herself and Gareth.

“We’re good with margherita, papà!” Donny placed glass soda bottles for everyone on the table and plopped himself down besides Dottie. “You look really pretty, by the way.”

“Thank you! You clean up nice too,” she smiled at him, and he chuckled shyly, not used to all the attention.

“Angelo, why didn’t you say the kids were here already?” Bianca, Donny’s mom, said coming out from the kitchen carrying pasta dishes for another table.

“They just arrived, cuore mio,” Angelo said, kissing the side of her head as he walked past him before he returned to the kitchen and busied himself with more cooking.

“Let me see you, boys, you’re looking handsome!” Bianca beamed at Gareth and Jeff, the two rowdy teens she’d known since before they could tie their own shoes. “And this is Dorothy, right?”

“Just Dottie is fine, mamma,” Donny corrected his Mom.

“Isn’t she a doll! Donatello said you’re interested in joining us for the summer, is that right?”

“Yes, ma’am, I’d love to work for you,” Dottie said, ignoring how her friends were snickering at the mention of Donny’s full first name.

“Do you have any experience?”

“Not as a waitress, but I was a babysitter back in New York since I was 13. I took a Red Cross course and everything. And I have CPR and First Aid certification if that helps.”

“We’ll talk more after graduation, but job’s yours if you want it,” Bianca said with a kind smile before hurrying over to attend to a customer.

“That was the quickest job interview I’ve ever seen in my life,” Jeff laughed.

“If we’re all gonna have money in our pockets, summer’s gonna be fucking awesome,” said Gareth, and everyone couldn’t help but agree with him.

By the time only pizza crust and empty cups of tiramisù remained on the table, everyone was feeling ready for some good old teenage fun on a sweaty dance floor. At some point during the dinner, Donny’s older sister Isabella had brought out a camera and taken a couple of snapshots of the group, wanting to preserve the memory of her little brother going to his first ever high school dance. Donny was acting like a peacock in his maroon suit with a matching black button up and tie; he’d even gelled his curls back, his stud earring glinting in the candlelight whenever he turned his head. As their classmates started leaving but their group remained behind, Dottie began to worry once again. Where in the world was Eddie, and why hadn’t he shown up yet? When she excused herself to the bathroom to reapply her bright red lipstick in an attempt to hide her nervous breathing, the boys huddled up in the booth, voices dropping to a low mumble, heads close together above the table.

“Where the fuck is he?” Gareth hissed.

“He said he was gonna be late, but this is too much,” Jeff said.

“You think he chickened out?”

“No way,” Donny said, confidently. “He was really excited about the surprise, he wouldn’t flake on us like that.”

“Well, he better show up or I’m beating his ass,” Gareth said. “Dot doesn’t deserve to go through another sucky prom.”

“Fuck, I didn’t even think about her,” Jeff’s eyes went wide. “She’s gonna be devastated if he doesn’t come.”

“He’ll come,” Donny nodded. “He’s not gonna stand her up. Like, if anyone knows how much this means to her, it’s probably Ed. They tell each other everything.”

“Okay, I’m ready to roll,” Dottie said, making their heads snap up at her voice. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah! You wanna get going now or do we wait for a bit longer?” Gareth asked.

“I… I dunno, guys. I don’t think Eddie’s coming,” she said, resigned. Jeff and Donny looked at each other.

“I’m gonna call him,” Donny decided. “You guys wait here.”

He shouldn’t have called, because when he returned to the table and said no one had picked up, the way Dottie’s face fell was enough to make them all feel incredibly guilty about something that wasn’t even their fault. They watched her school her features, masking the disappointment behind a friendly smile while she gathered her purse and slid out of the booth like nothing was bothering her. They said their goodbyes to the Vitale family, nonna Giulia coming out from the back to see her only grandson off (and pinch all their cheeks), and finally headed towards Donny’s car with a false sense of cheeriness but the best intentions at heart. The boys weren’t gonna let anything ruin the night for their friend, insisting on opening doors for Dottie and taking turns to offer her their arms to hold onto. Donny was unlocking his car’s doors when a very familiar brown van pulled up behind him, Eddie spilling out hurriedly without turning it off first.

“Jesus Christ, fuck, I’m so sorry,” he breathed out, jogging to catch up with his friends.

“You jackass, where the hell were you?” Jeff scolded him, but his words lost all edge when he pulled the long haired boy into a side hug.

“I’ll tell you later, but fuck man, I really thought I wasn’t gonna make it,” Eddie laughed, turning to hug Gareth.

“Is Wayne okay?” Dottie asked.

“Yeah, he’s fine, don’t worry about him,” he turned around and felt his soul leave his body when his eyes rested upon her. “I, uh- wow.”

“What’s wrong?” she said, looking down at her dress with a frown.

“Nothing! You- you look really nice,” he couldn’t hide his smile even if he tried, and he didn’t want to.

“Oh. Thank you, you look nice too,” she smiled back.

“Let’s take a picture before we leave now that we’re all here,” Donny said, waving through the window at Isabella, who immediately understood the assignment.

“We should take the camera with us,” Gareth proposed, and Jeff nodded in agreement.

Isabella had a few stern words towards Eddie for being late, but when she made them pose on the street, the light spilling out from the inside of the restaurant illuminating their happy faces, she couldn’t stop a fond expression from gracing her features. Donny hadn’t had an easy time throughout his school years, but it was this group of kids in front of her that had made everything better for him. She remembered the summer barbeques in the backyard with a younger Jeff, that one time Gareth lost a tooth munching too harshly on a cannoli, and that first day Donny brought Eddie over. She had asked her boyfriend (now husband) to help her keep an eye on the older boy throughout his visit, worried about what a junior could possibly want with her little brother. They’d talked about Lord of the Rings and played checkers for hours, and she’d heard Eddie warning a freshman Donny about certain teachers and how to avoid getting on their bad side, which softened her attitude towards the lanky teen considerably.

Truthfully, Isabella wasn’t one to judge quickly, but she had been worried about Dottie when Donny first began dropping her name in conversations at family gatherings. Girls had never been particularly nice to her brother while growing up, and as the eldest Vitale sister, she could be a little overprotective when it came to her siblings, especially towards her only brother. But here Dottie was, huddled up between Gareth and Donny, head resting lightly on her brother’s shoulder to be captured in a picture forever and looking happy about it, and Isabella knew this new addition to the group had been good for everyone. They were all wearing matching formal outfits, for Christ’s sake! After Isabella returned inside and everyone started heading towards Donny’s car again, Eddie grabbed Dottie’s wrist and stopped her from following their friends.

“Hey,” he said, tilting his head to the side. “Ride with me?”

“I, uh…,” she turned to look at the rest of the guys who were waiting for her a few steps ahead.

“I kinda wanted to talk to you about something important.”

“O-okay,” she said, heart sinking into her stomach. “I’m gonna ride with Eddie, guys.”

“Everything okay?” Jeff asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’ll tell you later,” Eddie said. “Meet us in the parking lot?”

He guided Dottie towards his van with a hand on the small of her back, holding her little gold purse for her as she climbed inside and clicked her seatbelt on, their friends slowly driving away without waiting for them to catch up. Once she was seated and her skirt was out of danger from getting caught in the door, Eddie closed it, jogged to the driver’s side and jumped inside, turning on the van and heading towards Hawkins High School. They stayed quiet for a whole block and when Dottie moved to turn on the radio to fill the awkward silence, he caught her hand in the air and brought it to his lips for a quick peck, the loving gesture helping her relax into her seat.

“I’m sorry I was late,” he said. “I had to do something important and it took me longer than I thought it would.”

His hair was still a little bit damp from his hurried shower, and he was wearing a black button up shirt with the sleeves barely rolled up, his good black jeans without holes in them with the chains on the side, and black boots. Chrissy’s birthday gift was the only pop of color in his all black ensemble, the red tie carefully ironed and knotted at the base of his throat.

“You look really handsome,” Dottie muttered with an airy tone, interlacing their fingers.

“And you look stunning,” he smiled softly, glancing at her before he turned his eyes back to the road. “Kinda took my breath away when I saw you.”

“Was worried you weren’t gonna show up,” she admitted.

“And leave my girl hanging? I’d never,” Eddie said, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand. My girl. She could get used to that. “I should have just told you what I was up to, but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“Surprise?”

“Check the glove box,” he said, pointing to it with his chin.

Dottie retrieved her hand from his grasp and opened it as instructed, pulling out two envelopes from the inside: one was white and looked like it contained a letter or a folded piece of paper, the other one was big and brown. She looked at him warily with a million questions in her eyes; he grinned mischievously in return.

“Open the small one first,” Eddie said.

Curiously, she opened the white letter and unfolded the single sheet of paper, finding in her hands a copy of Eddie’s school transcript. At the bottom, written in what she recognized as Ms. Kelly’s handwriting after seeing it for almost six months straight during their check-ins, were Eddie’s final grades for his third senior year. Not quite believing what she was seeing, she read them again and again, the information in front of her eyes staring back at her impassively.

“Stop the van,” she said, her gaze still stuck to the paper.

“What?”

“Fucking pull over, Ed!” she clicked her seatbelt off and threw the papers towards the dashboard, barely waiting until he’d hit the brakes before throwing herself onto him and planting a kiss on his lips.

“Wait, wait-” he laughed loudly, pulling her out of her seat and into his lap, her poofy dress covering his legs.

“I’m so- fucking- proud of you-” Dottie said, kissing him over and over, not caring if her lipstick was transferring onto his skin.

“Yeah? You are?” Eddie asked, giddy. “I had a meeting with Ms. Kelly today,” he began explaining, and she stopped kissing him to hear his story, her hands dropping to his shoulders where she played with his hair as he melted under her touch. “Dropped you off and booked it back to school. Last two times she called me to her office a week before graduation, she told me I wasn’t making it so I kinda shit my pants there for a minute but I knew I did good this time, I could feel it.”

“You did, babe, you did so good,” she grinned at him with hearts in her eyes.

“We did it,” he pressed a noisy kiss to her cheek, making her giggle. “We’re graduating together.”

“Hell yeah we are!” she moved to kiss him again but he dodged her, leaning to the side to get the other envelope from his dashboard.

“Hold on, that was only half of the surprise,” Eddie said, offering the papers back to her. “Open this one next.”

“Is this gonna say you got a full ride to come to Michigan with me or what?” she joked, pulling out the documents. “Oh, a job application! You mentioned this the other day-”

“Turn to the second page.”

“Holy shit! You got it?”

“I got it!”

In her hands, was a copy of his filled out job application and an informal looking contract, but a contract nonetheless. It was missing Eddie’s signature at the bottom, but that was merely a formality: she was looking at Thatcher Tires’ newest employee, with his starting date stamped as Monday, June 16th, the day after graduation weekend. It was only a part-time apprentice position, but it came with the promise of being promoted to assistant and eventually to full-time if he did well, and it was so much more than anyone else had been willing to give to Eddie before. Dottie looked at him with wet eyes and so much love inside her she didn’t know what to do except scoop him into her arms and squeeze him tightly against her chest like she never wanted to let go, lest he thought she wasn’t as equally over the moon about the news as he was.

“I’m just… fuck, Ed, this is huge,” she pressed her nose to his neck and he wrapped his arms around her, breathing in deeply.

“I know. It feels huge,” he chuckled. “Never thought I’d graduate and get a real job, y’know. Wayne cried when I told him.”

“That’s so sweet.”

“Yeah,” he sniffed. “I decided I’m not gonna deal anymore either. I’m just selling what I have left now and then I’m done with that shit. Forever. I… I wanna be good for you, darling. I wanna be the kinda man you deserve.”

“Ed, you don’t have to change who you are for me,” she lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him, her hands coming to hold the sides of his face tenderly. “I fell in love with you like this, I’m not gonna change my mind all of a sudden. I’m so sorry if I made you feel like you had to be anything different than who you are, I-”

“No, no, that’s not it,” he said quickly, hands settling on her waist. “I’m just… You deserve a good man, Dot, and I wanna be that. I wanna be a good man. I- I just didn’t think I could be good before, y’know? Everyone’s always talking about how I’m so fuckin’ stupid, and how I’d never do shit with my life, and I guess at some point I started believing they were right, and- I dunno. I don’t wanna be useless and I don’t wanna end up in jail with my asshole Dad like everyone in this shit town thinks I will. And- and when I met you and you were all like you’re really smart, Eddie, you’re just lazy, you were right, darling, you were so fuckin’ right. You always are,” he was looking at her with so much intensity she had to close her eyes and lean forward, their foreheads resting against each other’s. “I wanna look at myself in a mirror and see what you see. I wanna be good.”

“You are,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his nose. “You are so good, Eddie. You are the best thing in this whole town and I love you so much.”

“Say that again, please.”

“I love you.”

“One more time?”

“I love you, Edward Munson,” Dottie kissed him sweetly. “I love you.”

“Shit,” he grinned. “You really love me.”

“Of course I do.”

“I love you too, baby. So, so much.”

They stayed like that for a few seconds, Dottie sitting on his lap, her thighs bracketing his, his thumbs rubbing circles on her sides and her hands cupping the sides of his jaw, noses pressed together. They didn’t kiss, because it didn’t seem enough to express what they were feeling right at that moment. It almost felt childish to do so, like kissing was something they usually did for fun and the real intimacy came from just existing in the same space, breathing the same air, feeling each other’s warmth under their hands and just how alive the other felt when skin was pressed against skin. A truck full of rowdy classmates that were clearly somewhat inebriated sped down the street, the loud music coming from their speakers breaking their fairytale bubble and bringing them back to real life. With a shy smile, Dottie collected all the documents strewn around them before moving back to her seat and clicking her seatbelt back on while Eddie tried to wipe her lipstick from his face with a tissue he’d stolen from her purse and water from an old plastic bottle. Once she’d reapplied her makeup and he was sufficiently clean so as not to raise suspicions, Eddie pulled back into the road towards the school, holding Dottie’s hand in his for just a few more minutes.

“You know what I realized the other day?” he said, stopping at a red light. “I didn’t used to be scared of jail when Chief Hopper was still around.”

“Really? Why not?”

“Because Hopper didn’t give two shits about me selling. He busted me a couple of times, gave me a talking to and dropped me off back home. I think he knew I was just doing it ‘cause we needed the money, I wasn’t gonna become a career criminal or some shit like that. He was cool.”

“And the new chief isn’t?”

“Powell’s useless,” Eddie scoffed. “He’s still trying to convince everyone he has what it takes to be like Hopper and no one believes he’s got it. And Callahan is a fucking moron. You know those handcuffs I’ve got in my bedroom?”

“I’m guessing you didn’t get those in a magician’s kit,” Dottie joked.

“They’re Callahan’s,” he grinned. “He caught me buying when I was like 15, put the cuffs on me and everything. Took me to the station and when Hopper saw me at his desk, he turned around and called him a drama queen, told him he was “wasting police resources” over nothing. It was awesome. I swiped the cuffs before Hopper took me home. Wayne wasn’t too happy about it though, he grounded me for like a month but I thought it was worth it.”

“So you stole a police officer’s cuffs? And just… hung them in your bedroom like they were a dreamcatcher?”

“Yeah, pretty much. At first I kept them ‘cause I thought they made me look badass,” he turned into another street, their final stop looming closer and closer. “Now I look at them and kinda get chills. I think Wayne would die if he saw me in those but for real this time. Like, I think he’d actually have a heart attack or something. Can’t do that to my old man, he doesn’t deserve that.”

“And Hopper didn’t know you took them?”

“He absolutely did, he just didn’t care,” Eddie laughed. “As far as cops go, Hopper was pretty cool. He actually gave a shit about us when it really mattered. I mean, yeah, he could still be an asshole when he wanted to, all cops are, but he was pretty chill most of the time. Kept to himself a lot. It kinda pissed me off how everyone started pretending like he was their best friend after he died.”

“Nancy told me he saved people in the Starcourt Mall fire.”

“Yeah. A true American hero: Vietnam war vet, died heroically saving children from a fire during the Fourth of July… doesn’t get more patriotic than that.”

“You said Dustin and Mike were there, right?”

“Yeah. And Erica.”

“What?”

“They were all in the cinema, I think. Dunno much about it, the kids never talk about what happened. Just know they were there ‘cause they mentioned it on the news. Nancy was there too, she didn’t tell you?”

“Oh,” Dottie said, like something had clicked in her head. “Well, that makes more sense now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought it was weird that Nancy’s boyfriend’s mom just, like, adopted the Chief’s daughter after he passed away, but it makes sense. They must have been friends.”

“What are you talking about?” It was Eddie’s turn to be surprised.

“Nancy’s dating a guy named Jonathan-”

“Yes, Jonathan Byers. I know him. Fellow weirdo,” he raised an eyebrow pointedly.

“Well, his mom adopted Hopper’s daughter before they moved to California last year. She’s dating Mike, he told us about her, remember?” Dottie explained. “So she must have been in there with Mike and their friends if Nancy and Jonathan were there too.”

“Hopper didn’t have a daughter. I mean, he did have one but she died when she was a kid,” Eddie said.

“Nancy said he didn’t know he had a daughter until recently, maybe her Mom passed away or something and she left her with him. She was here all summer with Mike and Dustin, she’s really pretty!”

“Yeah? How do you know?”

“They showed me a picture! She’s taller than I expected, has brown hair, brown eyes. Looks a little bit like an elf actually, she has, like, sharp cheekbones?” Dottie pointed to her own round cheeks that looked nothing like the girl’s face on a Polaroid currently stuck to the inside of Dustin’s locker.

“Well, damn,” he chuckled. “Look at Wheeler go, totally thought he was lying about that one. Hey, uh, did Nancy tell you anything about the Byers?”

“About Jonathan, mostly. I know he has a brother that’s friends with Mike and Dustin too.”

“Will.”

“I think so, can’t remember his name. I know Mike’s girlfriend is named Jane though.”

“So she didn’t tell you about all the weird shit that happened a few years ago, huh?” Eddie eyed her curiously as he pulled into the school’s street, the building waiting for them just a few blocks further.

“Define weird shit for me, please.”

“This town is fucking cursed, babe. That Will kid went missing in the woods and then the feds found a random body in the quarry and thought it was him. Everyone thought Mrs. Byers was insane because she kept saying that the body wasn’t Will, but she was right - Hopper found him alive a few days later. It was a huge mess, like, they had held a funeral and everything and now the kid is back like nothing happened?” Eddie shook his head in disbelief. “I thought maybe Nancy would have told you because around that same time, everyone thought this girl named Barb that was best friends with her had run away but actually she died from getting exposed to some weird chemicals from that lab in the middle of the woods where Will went missing and there was a whole conspiracy to cover it up. And also y’know, the fire thing last year.”

“Those are like a lot of strange as fuck things to have happened in such a short span of time,” Dottie frowned.

“I know, right? And Mike and Dustin are always in the middle of it somehow. Must suck.”

“Poor kids,” she said, sadly. “It’s probably hard for them to deal with all that and have to pretend everything’s normal.”

“People get crazy good at hiding things they’ve been through, especially when they were fucked up,” he shrugged.

Eddie finally pulled into the school’s parking lot, quickly locating Donny’s car and their friends standing around waiting for them. He honked the horn twice to call their attention and they waved at him to hurry up. Dottie looked at the boys through the windshield and thought about what Eddie had just said. He was right and she knew this because she’d gotten pretty good at pretending things were okay when they weren’t, not looking for pity or compassion because she’d simply assumed others would judge her for it. Being around Eddie had helped her open up, but there were some secrets that were buried too deep to unearth so casually, particularly when they filled her with shame. But maybe it was about time she stopped doing that. Maybe she owed it not only to her friends, but to herself, to stop feeling sorry for something that had been out of her control and such a special night seemed like the perfect moment to tell them the things that had been eating her from the inside out for a year now. But for now, Eddie was offering her his hand to help her get out of his van, and her friends were grinning at her like the cat that got the cream, so the truth would have to wait until later. There was a prom to attend first, and she was determined to enjoy this one to the fullest.

Gareth Coleman had never been known to be particularly patient about anything throughout his goddamn life. He was always eager to spill the beans, and he always wanted to spill them now, so the fact that he’d managed to keep this specific secret for almost a week had been impressive. Him, Jeff, and Donny had discussed Eddie’s weird behavior while on their way to the school, and they were all equally curious as to what was taking him and Dottie so long to arrive. Donny had already smoked a cig and Jeff had checked the bag in the backseat thrice by the time those two finally rejoined the group, looking a little bit suspicious and plenty cozy with one another. The boys didn’t have too much time to ponder on why though, because immediately upon arrival Eddie revealed that the reason he’d been late for dinner and why he’d stolen Dottie away for a private chat, was that he’d seen Ms. Kelly after school and had gotten confirmation that he’d finally be graduating high school with his friends. Hellfire Class of ‘86, baby, he’d said, pulling his friends into a huddle as they cheered and hollered at what was probably the most anticipated piece of news they’d gotten in a long time. However, Gareth was still impatient as ever, so he quickly peeled away from the group hug and dove into Donny’s car to retrieve their final surprise of the night and keep emotions running high.

“Since we’re all here and in a good fuckin’ mood,” he began saying, making everyone turn to him. “We have something for you, Dot.”

“For me? What did I do?”

“Well, it wouldn’t really be prom if you didn’t have one of these, so… here you go,” he pulled a white box from inside the bag and extended it to her; she accepted it curiously before peering inside.

“Wow, this is…,” she said, taken aback. “You guys! You didn’t have to buy anything for me!”

“Yes, we did,” Jeff said, moving forward to help her get her surprise out of the box.

In his hands, he held a very special corsage they’d all pitched in to buy for her since she didn’t have a formal date to the event to get it for her. The flowers were bright red, with the ribbon in black and gold; he slid it over her fingers until it sat prettily on her left wrist, her eyes filling with heartfelt tears at their thoughtful gesture. She didn’t have time to thank them, however, because soon enough Gareth was pulling smaller boxes from the bag and giving one to each of his friends.

“Could you help us with these?” Donny smiled, opening his box for her to see what he was holding.

Each of them had gotten themselves a boutonniere, two different styles but all in matching colors. Jeff and Eddie had chosen red flowers with black and gold ribbon much like her corsage, but Gareth and Donny had white flowers with red and gold ribbon. Between wet laughs, she pinned all decorations to their chests, wondering how she’d gotten so lucky to have these four men in her life who were all so eager to make every moment count when it mattered the most. Dottie tucked herself between Eddie and Jeff, and Donny turned his sister’s borrowed camera towards the group, blindly taking a picture and hoping he hadn’t accidentally cut any heads out of it. After checking on each other for the final time, the five teens turned towards the gymnasium doors and headed inside to get the party started.

The Hellfire Class of ‘86’s big entrance had been something to behold. No one had really been expecting the freaks to show up, much less dressed to the nines and arm in arm with that one girl that had moved to Hawkins a few months ago right in the middle of the school year, but there they were, and they demanded to be seen. Their matching outfits made them stand out in a sea of bold colors, pastels, and satin fabrics, but the fact that they moved like a cohesive unit anywhere they went was weirdly fascinating. First, they headed to get their picture taken and the photographer had been happy to capture what looked to be a healthy group of friends instead of awkward looking couples that would probably not make it anywhere further than a few months beyond graduation. Then, they lingered at a corner of the refreshments table when Chrissy Cunningham excitedly greeted them and chatted with them for a few long minutes, gushing over Dottie’s vintage dress who in turn couldn’t stop telling the blonde how beautiful she looked in her baby pink gown.

It was silly, really, how the most non-conformist friend group in Hawkins High had found some sort of genuine amusement in participating in what was probably the most stereotypical event in the life of any high school student, but they’d long ago stopped trying to explain themselves to others. Prom to them was a celebration of their friendship, a culmination of four shitty years (or six, in Eddie’s case), and the hope of a better future that felt as equally glorious as every moment spent together. They sipped on cheap vodka from a hip flask Gareth had smuggled in, they pestered the DJ to play Black Sabbath, Metallica, or even some Mötley Crüe to no avail, and they danced in a circle until their feet hurt. Dottie excused herself for a bit to dance with Chrissy to a Queen song, and then she’d stolen Nancy away from her friends for a few minutes, but she stayed pretty close to her boys all night, and in turn, they never left her alone. She’d been twirling around the dance floor with Jeff while Gareth escaped to the bathroom for a couple of minutes when Donny came to stand next to Eddie, who was watching her from the side with the most lovesick expression on his face known to man.

“Might wanna be less obvious with the staring there,” Donny nudged him goodnaturedly. “People are gonna notice you’re drooling.”

“Don’t really care if anyone sees me,” Eddie admitted. “Now that we’re all getting out of here I’m gonna ask her to be my girlfriend, so I don’t give a shit about what this lame ass school thinks about me anymore.”

“Damn, good luck, man,” he looked at him, impressed. “I mean, she’s totally gonna say yes but still, good luck.”

“Thanks, Don. You’re a good friend, you know that, right?”

“Been told once or twice but it’s always good to hear.”

“I should tell you more often,” Eddie smiled. “We’re all best friends, but… I dunno. I feel like you always got me the most.”

“Always thought you got me the most, actually,” Donny said, smiling back at him.

“Hey, Eddie!” Chrissy called, hurrying towards him all giggly and secretive. “We're up next!”

“Shit, already?”

“What’s going on?” Donny asked, looking at the blonde.

“I'm his Best Man," she said, like that explained everything before grabbing Eddie's hand and pulling him towards the dance floor.

Without having to squint too much, the gymnasium didn't look like the sweaty room the majority of the school's populace hated with a passion anymore. Chrissy and her fellow Prom Committee members had worked really hard to turn it into a different place, from the red carpet and fairy lights at the entrance to the golden streamers obscuring the bleachers to the sides, all the way to the myriad of rented mirror balls hanging from the ceiling; everything came together to create a portal to a world where Hawkins’ senior class could pretend like they were movie stars for a night. The theme was perfectly captured in the décor, and Eddie found it very fitting that the Hellfire Club's colors matched it so well - it made everything that much more special and movielike than they had intended when they agreed to display their club’s allegiance so blatantly.

Chrissy maneuvered them past several people towards where Jeff and Dottie danced to Falco’s Rock Me Amadeus, immediately joining in and not caring that classmates around them were looking at her like she'd grown two heads. She had worked her ass off so everyone could have a wonderful night and if she wanted to dance with the freaks, she felt like had rightfully earned her prize. After all, Eddie had said she was a freak too once and she took it to heart, considering it might as well have been the biggest compliment she had ever received in her 18 years on planet Earth. Jeff was still wary of Chrissy, not having had a full conversation with her in all four years of high school but he knew Eddie thought of her as a friend, and Dottie seemed to like her as well so he followed their lead and danced along with her, making both girls spin at the same time in tune with the song.

"Are you having fun?" Chrissy asked Dottie, holding onto her hands.

"So much fun! I voted for you, by the way."

"You did?! Oh my god, thank you!" the blonde beamed at her. "I'm so nervous, I hope I get it!"

"Are you kidding me? We all voted for you, you're totally gonna win," Dottie said with honesty, because there was no other way the night could end without Chrissy Cunningham winning Prom Queen.

"Don't jinx it!" she laughed, as the final notes of Rock Me Amadeus played out.

"Alright, alright, Hawkins High! Is everyone having fun?" the DJ asked over the music; everyone cheered in response. "Let's slow it down a little bit, shall we? This one's for the lovers in the room, but remember to leave space for Jesus in the middle, okay? Don’t want any teachers getting upset."

Dottie laughed at the DJ’s silly joke while the next song began, head whipping around to find Eddie who was already turned towards her and, dare she say, looking mighty sheepish. Oh, darling, please believe me, crooned Paul McCartney as the dancefloor became a little bit less crowded and couples began partnering up to share a sweet moment with one another. Eddie offered his hand to her and Dottie looked at their friends before taking it, but there was no need - Chrissy was fulfilling her Best Man duty to perfection, already swaying away from them with her hands on Jeff's shoulders. He looked mighty confused as to why a pretty cheerleader was slow dancing with him instead of going to find her jock boyfriend, but he was enjoying the small talk about what colleges they'd attend after graduation and Chrissy seemed to be having fun too so beggars couldn't really be choosers. Dottie let herself be pulled closer to Eddie and he held her in a way that didn't look entirely platonic, but they both silently agreed that they’d deal with whatever teasing they could get in the future. Right now, being in her not-yet-boyfriend’s arms while The Beatles played in the background was probably one of the happiest moments of Dottie’s life and she was going to enjoy it as much as she could without overthinking it.

"Got any other surprises up your sleeve I should prepare myself for?" Dottie asked, eyes shining under the disco balls.

"This was the last one for tonight, I promise," he said, fighting the urge to cradle her head into his chest; Mrs. O'Donnell was standing to a side looking for students who didn't leave space for Jesus and he didn’t want to risk it. "How are you feeling, princess?"

"Like this is the best prom I could have asked for."

"Yeah? Is it how you dreamed it would be?"

"It’s so much better. I'm lucky enough to be dancing with the prettiest boy in the room, what more could I ask for?" she smiled.

"Don't know, I'm dancing with the most beautiful girl in the room so I'm feeling pretty lucky too," he smiled back at her, his dimples on display.

“God we’re corny. How did you get the DJ to play our song?”

“I thought our song was Hot Patootie.”

“We have multiple. Answer the question, Munson, Donny and I asked him to play some Bruce Springsteen earlier and he said no.”

“I have friends in high places,” Eddie said cryptically, but undermined the mystery by looking at Chrissy who was laughing at something Jeff had said.

“You totally told her about us, didn’t you?” Dottie asked, but her grin told him she wasn’t mad about it.

“She’s gonna be my Best Man, I had to,” he shrugged, making her snort and shake her head.

“Already thinking about the wedding and he hasn’t even asked me out yet. You’re getting awfully cocky,” she raised an eyebrow, and he had the decency to look shy about it.

“I’m working on it, darling. Just give me time to make it special.”

Eddie pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear as they danced, not realizing that both Donny and Gareth were watching the pair like hawks, smirking at how obvious their affection was in a sea of couples that ranged from uncomfortable to loving. They, however, looked downright sickening, like they had been plucked from a cheesy coming of age movie where the two leads finally came to terms with the fact that all they’d ever wanted had been right in front of them all along.

“He’s totally head over heels for her, isn’t he,” Gareth said, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Absolutely,” Donny said, taking a sip of his spiked fruit punch. “But she’s not far behind either.”

“Yeah,” the wild curly haired boy turned to look at his friend. “Wanna bet on how long it’ll take for them to get together?”

“I say twenty for graduation day.”

Nearing the end of prom night, their feet hurt from standing for so long and they were all starving for some salty junk food. Chrissy had, of course, ended up winning Prom Queen; Hellfire had cheered for her extra loud which hadn’t made the basketball team very happy but they couldn’t retaliate when there were so many teachers around. Besides, Andy’s eye was still very much purple and no one wanted to be sporting a face injury in their graduation photos. Jason Carver had won Prom King too, but much to his dismay, rumor had it that he’d barely beaten the football team’s captain for the title. Nonetheless, the newly crowned couple was dancing in the middle of the gym surrounded by other partnered up classmates when Eddie proposed what was probably the best plan of the night: leaving early and going to get fries and milkshakes at a cheap diner.

Dottie went in the car with Donny and Gareth this time, trying to avoid alerting their friends to her and Eddie’s blossoming relationship anymore than they’d already had, and the teens spent the entire ride gossiping about things they’d noticed had happened during the event, like how this girl from the swimming team had very publicly broken up with her boyfriend in front of everyone or how their History teacher had been dancing with the pretty Science teacher every freshman (namely, Dustin Henderson) had a crush on. When they arrived at the diner, Eddie opened the doors of his van and they sat in the parking lot to eat their fries and share various flavors of milkshakes, debating on which one was better. The boys were rowdy as they always were, Gareth fighting hard for peanut butter versus Jeff’s chocolate and Donny’s orange creamsicle, when Eddie went to grab more fries from the basket he was sharing with Dottie and noticed she was staring at her corsage, a blank expression on her face.

“Hey,” he said softly, trying not to startle her by rubbing the back of her hand with his pinky finger. “You okay? Wanna go home?”

“No, I’m okay. Just thinking.”

“Wanna tell me? I’m a good listener.”

“I know you are,” Dottie afforded him half a smile. “I… there was something I wanted to tell you but don’t wanna bring the mood down.”

“Uh-oh,” he pouted dramatically. “Am I in trouble already?”

“Shut up,” she shoved him lightly. “No, it’s just… it’s about New York and- I don’t know, we’re having such a fun time. Feels like I’m gonna fuck it up. It’s fine, I can tell you guys some other time.”

“Tell us what?” Jeff asked, making her notice that all the boys were quietly looking at her.

“You don’t have to tell us anything if you don’t want to,” Gareth hurried to say. “-but we’re always down to hear you if you wanna, like, get something off your chest or whatever.”

“Yeah! You’re not fucking anything up, we’re just talking,” Donny said.

Dottie looked around at her friends who were waiting to follow her lead whatever that may be and knew that if she was ever going to say anything, then this was it. This was the moment where she let them all in, where she let them see just how truly damaged she was, and they’d have to decide whether this baggage was something they wanted to help her with or if it was too much for them to handle. Eddie’s ringed hand sneaked behind her, caressing her spine back and forth on top of her dress for support. She took a deep breath and set the basket of fries to the side.

“I, uh- you know how I said my junior prom sucked and that’s why I kinda didn’t wanna come tonight before we made plans?” she began, and they all nodded. “So, there’s actually a pretty big reason for that.”

“You said you didn’t have a date for junior prom and you felt bad so you didn’t go. That’s why I said we should all go together,” Gareth said, making the other teens turn to him in surprise. He clearly knew more about it than they all did and he hadn’t said anything.

“I lied. I did go and I did have a date. I had a boyfriend actually,” she said grimly.

“Oh.”

“How long did you date that guy?” Donny asked, sparing a glance at Eddie who was staring at her nervous hands playing with her Mom’s engagement and wedding rings, spinning them around her left middle finger.

“Around six months. His name was Tyler, we went to school together. He was… nice, I guess? I really liked him,” she muttered. “And like, not to overshare but he was my first real kiss, you know? My first everything. And he made me feel special for a while.”

“What happened?” Jeff asked, frowning and shifting closer, his hand coming to rest on her ankle.

“We went to prom together. Flynn, his older brother, took us and the whole ride was so awkward because he kept trying to talk to Tyler and he would just stare ahead, like he was angry or something. He wouldn’t even look at me.”

“Flynn or Tyler wouldn’t look?”

“Tyler. Actually, Flynn was pretty awesome, best older brother ever. He was pre-med, just… a really cool guy. Kinda miss him, he was fun to be around. He had wild stories about college, but not like drunk wild, just general weird things that happened around campus,” Dottie smiled, remembering the nice older guy that gave her advice on how to apply to colleges.

“He sounds nice,” Donny said.

“He was! Honestly, I think the best part about dating Tyler was that I could hang out with Flynn a lot.”

“So… what happened at prom?” Donny prompted her to continue.

“Um, Flynn dropped us off and Tyler said he wanted to talk before we went in. I thought he was nervous, y’know? I mean, I was nervous too. But he basically said he didn’t wanna date me anymore because he was gonna go to this science whatever camp during summer, and we were gonna be so far away and he just couldn’t deal with long distance so it was over.”

“What?” Eddie’s eyebrows raised on his forehead until they were hidden completely by his bangs. He was prepared to wait for her all four years of college and this fucking guy couldn’t handle being two months apart? “That’s such bullshit!”

“That’s what I said!” she exclaimed, getting angry again at the memory. “But then he said that he didn’t like me anymore because I didn’t put in any effort, and that other girls got pretty for their boyfriends and- and that hurt because he knew that I hadn’t been able to get a dress I liked for prom, so a friend’s sister let me borrow an old one from her.”

“What a fucking douchebag,” Gareth said, scoffing. “You always look pretty, what was his deal?”

“Wish I didn’t know, but, um, that one hurt way more when I found out,” she said, tears starting to form along her waterline. “Because I obviously went home after that, right? He didn’t want me there, and I didn’t want to be there either, so I got on the first bus I saw and that was it. I didn’t show up for the final week of school, and then I went to see my grandparents and stayed away from everyone all summer.”

“What about your friends?” Jeff asked.

“My Dad returned the dress for me and I called Tracey to say thank you, and that was it. She didn’t ask about what happened and no one else called.”

“You mean that no one cared you went missing for months?” Eddie’s face dropped.

“That’s kinda how summers were like for me in New York anyway,” she admitted, and he moved his hand from her back to her hip to bring her closer to him and into a side hug. “I was sure that everyone knew and that’s why no one called. Like, what would they even say? It would have been so awkward. But then school started again and I found out what happened during the holidays and everything made sense.”

“Why? What happened?” Gareth frowned. “What did they do while you were gone?”

“Tyler went to his dumb summer camp two weeks after school ended and got together with my friend Jeannie,” Dottie said, fat drops finally falling from her eyes. “God, why am I still crying about it? I don’t even care about them anymore, I’m pathetic.”

“Fuck that! You’re not pathetic, they are!” Jeff exclaimed, gripping her ankle tighter to get to look up from her hands. “What a bitch, how could she do that to you?”

“Okay, I’m gonna kill both of them,” Gareth deadpanned. “We should totally kill both of them, right, guys?”

“Hey, come on, don’t cry,” Donny said, shifting closer until he was on Dottie’s other side, squishing her between himself and Eddie. “Do you want us to kill them? Because you know we would. I’ll bring the shovel, Eddie has the van, we can make it happen. Just say the word and we’ll be there.”

“I know you would,” she managed to chuckle through the tears. “It’s fine, I just… I never really told anyone this other than my Dad. The only reason my family knows is because he had to explain to everyone why I was locking myself in my room to cry all the time and wouldn’t leave home. I worried everyone a lot those days.”

“You were keeping this one really close to the chest, huh?” Eddie said, things clicking into place for him. Her sudden desperation when he mentioned Chrissy’s name mid freakout, her willingness to hide her own heartbreak if it meant they’d still be friends, the way she kept to herself all those months before she joined them. “Can I ask… did someone tell them anything? Did your other friends know?”

“They all knew. Tracey and Benji said they were sorry but that was kinda it. And all of them sat during lunch with Jeannie, who kept bringing Tyler over to our table and literally fucking sitting on him every day so I had no friends for six months except for Mrs. Randall.”

“Who’s Mrs. Randall?” Eddie asked, vaguely aware that he’d seen that very same name signed at the front of her well-loved Anne of Green Gables copy.

“The school’s librarian. I had lunch with her every day and she helped me write the essay I sent to UMich. She’s awesome, honestly. Dunno what I would have done without her.”

“I’m so sorry you went through all that,” Jeff said. “You didn’t deserve it, and I’m glad you aren’t friends with those assholes anymore.”

“Yeah! You have us now!” Gareth smiled, throwing himself over Eddie’s legs to join in on the hugging party. “We played D&D together which means we’re bonded for life. Can’t get rid of us anymore.”

“He’s right, princess,” Eddie added, hand coming up to brush her tears away. “It’s in the Player’s Handbook. You signed a blood contract.”

“I love you,” she said, looking at him earnestly before turning to her other boys. “I love all of you. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you anything before, it was just so embarrassing to admit and I didn’t want you to know I’m the biggest loser on Earth and decide you didn’t want to be friends anymore.”

“You’re not a loser,” Donny said. “And those people weren’t your real friends, they were shitheads. That’s not on you, Dot. And we love you too, or else we wouldn’t be wearing suits right now.”

“Everything you guys did today… thank you. I’m gonna remember this forever, you have no idea how much it means to me.”

“We know,” Gareth said, looking at all his friends. “That’s why we did it.”

In the back of Eddie’s van, with the doors open to the empty parking lot waiting to be filled with teens looking for a snack, Dottie shed yet another layer of fear and anxiety. The air smelled vaguely of weed and fries, their forgotten milkshakes sweating rings onto the hard floor, but no one made a move to get themselves out of the puppy pile they had sunk into, five sets of legs and arms tangled with one another and the calm understanding that physical comfort was something they all needed at that moment. They had all been outcasts, freaks, easily disposable and replaceable throughout their lives, but here, in this van, they were invaluable and unique. Here the Hellfire Class of ‘86 was home, and there was nothing in the world that could convince them otherwise. Here they belonged, and birds of a feather flock together after all.

taglist (comment below or send me an ask if you wanna be added!): @munsonology @kurdtbean @every1lovesanunderdog @eg-dr3amer3

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goldenlaurelleaveswrites · 1 year

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Juleka vs. the Forces of the Universe ch 15

Juleka vs. the Forces of Chat Noir

Juleka vs. the Forces of the Universe (AO3)

Hi everyone!!!

I wanted to start out by thanking you all so much for your patience and ongoing support. 💖💖💖💖 I honestly thought I would get this chapter posted ages ago because it was 90% written before I started my spring semester. But then, (to absolutely no one's surprise) I ended up being very ambitious with the central project of my entire semester. That ate up pretty much all of my time and mental energy, which was why this ended up getting so delayed. But, I am now finished the semester on Friday and I spent yesterday finishing writing, and today revising. And now, here it is!!!

This chapter has been a long time coming (parts of it have been written for over a year 😂) and I'm so excited to finally share it with all of you. It ended up being way longer than expected, so make sure to settle in because it is a very long one.

A last bit of housekeeping. My eternal love and thanks to the my LBSC friends for cheering me on. Also a bug thanks to Min and Rierse for helping me remember what happened with some of the canon akumas and saving me from having to rewatch episodes. Finally, a huge thank you to Ver for talking me through all of my spirals and self-doubt I had with this chapter. Y'all are the best and I love you 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

With all that being said, again, thank you for your patience and I hope you enjoy the chapter!!! 💖💖💖💖💖

_______________________________________________________________________

The air was warm, but there was a soft, cool breeze slipping through the city, ruffling her hair and carrying with it the sounds of the city at night. The sun had just dipped below the horizon, and the warm light of the golden hour had been replaced by the dusky blues and violets of twilight. In the approaching darkness, the skyline twinkled with the lights of the city, now come to life. It was a gorgeous evening. A perfect June evening. Except…

Where was he?

When Ladybug had shown up on the Liberty, it hadn’t come as a complete shock—though she hadn’t been expecting her quite so soon— what with her and Marinette’s little talk in the shoe store. Honestly, she had been flattered when she had realized Ladybug had been thinking about entrusting her with more responsibilities. And she was only too happy to fill in for Ladybug for patrol for the next couple of weeks. She was just glad Marinette was taking the time to work on something for herself. And patrolling with Chat Noir would be… fine.

Probably.

Maybe.

Hopefully…

And where was he anyway?

He was fifteen minutes late now and she couldn’t exactly start patrol without him. Well, she probably shouldn’t start without him, given this was her first patrol. But if he wasn’t there in another five minutes, she was going to start without him anyway. She wasn’t about to let Ladybug down. Not when she had come to her for help.

And not when she had looked so relieved when she had agreed to the favour.

She leaned back on her hands and looked up at the sky, painted with the promise of the oncoming night. The breeze ruffled her hair again, and she sighed.

She could definitely get used to evenings like this.

It was such gorgeous evening, she could just sit forever. But she had a job to do. And if relaxing on a rooftop on an evening like this was this wonderful, racing across the rooftops had to be even better…

She was just pushing herself to her feet when the soft thud of boots hitting the roof flicked at her ears. As she rose fully to her feet she turned to find Chat standing behind her, staring at her.

“Oh. It’s you,” he said flatly.

“Excuse me?”

Instead of answering, her tapped on his baton and a section of it slid open to reveal his communicator. He started tapping on the screen; she watched as his eyes scanned back and forth as if he were reading something. “I thought she was trying to make a joke,” he mumbled, a frown creasing his face.

“About…?”

He didn’t look up from his communicator. “About her calling in someone else to patrol.”

“And why would she joke about that?” she asked, crossing her arms as she watched him type out what she assumed was a message to Ladybug.

Finally, he looked up from his screen to meet her eyes. “Because it’s our thing.” He had left the word ‘just’ unsaid, but it was plenty clear in his voice.

“Well, I’m standing in for her,” she said tartly. He hadn’t even been here five minutes and already, her patience was waning thin. Maybe she should have just started patrol without him…

“You can go home,” he said brusquely, “I can easily handle patrol myself,” he grumbled. “I don’t need your help.”

“I’m here, like she asked me to be” she snapped. “Now come on, we’re already starting late enough as it is.”

Petty? Yes.

Did she care? No.

Chat shot her a sour look, and then without waiting, he launched himself into the air and toward the next roof over with his baton.

But it didn’t matter.

She would have no problem keeping up.

***

The night air whipped at her face as she raced across the rooftops and sailed through the air. Her feet barely touched the shingles as she tore across the rooftops. And she swore she flew just a little bit higher with every leap into the air. The speed with which they were racing was… exhilarating.

Even if it was so plainly obvious that he was trying to show her up. Or leave her behind.

Knowing him… it was probably both.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, his mouth settling into a tight line at the sight of her keeping pace with him. As soon as he landed, he used his baton to launch himself into the air in an attempt to pull ahead.

Like it was some sort of race.

But she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction.

And if he wanted to play stupid games?

She pulled her bolas from her waist and spun them, not missing a single step as she whipped them out to latch onto some scaffolding ahead of Chat. The air whistled past her as she swung through the air, pulling ahead of Chat.

He would have to live with winning stupid prizes.

***

Ladybug was already waiting for her in amongst the pile of stuff in the shadows of the stage’s scaffolding by the time she made it home from patrol. She dropped down onto the deck and ducked into the cover of the chaos of the the junk her ma refused to part with.

“How did it go?” Ladybug asked in a low voice.

“Good,” she murmured as she dropped her transformation. It had been good. Other than all the business with Chat…

Ladybug must has seen her thoughts reflected in her face, because her brows furrowed and her eyes were suddenly glimmering with concern. “If you don’t have the time, or if it’s stressing you out you don’t have to-“

“It really was fine,” she promised, grasping Ladybug’s hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze as she haded her the panjas bracelet. “Chat just… he wasn’t thrilled I was the one he was patrolling with.”

Something akin to the beginning of a grimace crossed Ladybug’s face. “I’m sorry about him. I told him… but I guess I should have given him more warning or something.”

“You told him. That should have been enough.”

“Yeah, well…” Ladybug said noncommittally. “Other than that, things were ok?”

“More than ok. It was actually pretty nice. Good way to blow off some steam.”

Ladybug laughed quietly, nodding her head. “Yeah, it is.” The laughter faded from her face, replaced by hesitancy. “I know I asked you to cover my patrols with Chat for me, but I was wondering… would you- would you be comfortable covering my solo patrols as well? It’s just, I- I’m working on a really tight deadline with this project and it’s really important to me,” she explained, her words tumbling out in an ever increasing tempo as she wrung her hands. “The first one isn’t until the end of the week so you would have some time to adjust. And if you needed anything I would just be a message away! My kwami can received messages even when I’m not transformed so if there were any issues or you felt overwhelmed I could-“

“It’s no problem.”

Ladybug’s whole body heaved with her sigh of relief. “Thank you, Juleka. You have no idea what this means to me.” Oh, she had a pretty good idea… “And I’m sorry to ask you in the first place. I would just get Chat to do solo patrols until I’m done but-“ Ladybug hesitated, obviously debating with herself. But then she sighed again. “I would feel better if I had someone I trust patrolling with him…”

“I won’t let you down.”

Ladybug’s eyes darted down to the panjas bracelet before returning to meet her own, a smile curling across her face. “I know.”

***

Chat was already waiting on the rooftop by the time she got there. He was perched on the edge of the roof, one leg dangling over the edge of the roof, with the other propped up so his hand could rest easily on his knee. He was leaning back on his other hand, and his face was tilted towards the sky so that his features perfectly caught the last of the golden rays.

He was the picture of casual elegance and charm.

Easy.

Effortless.

And totally practiced.

She recognized the pose from one of the ads that had been plastered across the city a while back.

After the her first few outings as Purple Tigress, she had gotten the hang of landing silently, no matter the force with which she had jumped or fallen. But she let herself land with a soft, but still audible thud.

“M’lady-“ he began so say as he turned, his face already breaking into a suave smile before his gaze landed on her. His smile immediately fell. “Oh. It’s you again.”

“It’s me again,” she agreed as she made her way towards him. But he ignored her in favour of turning back to look over the city as he pulled up the communicator in his baton. He began typing furiously, and a second later, she heard the familiar sound of an outgoing message. Followed by another. And another.

“So…” she said slowly, drawing the word out, “are we going to patrol or…”

“I’m waiting for Ladybug.”

“She isn’t coming,” she sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose. “That’s why I’m here, remember?”

“That was last time,” he said, still typing on his communicator. And still pointedly not looking at her.

“And this time. And all her patrols for the next couple of weeks.”

Another chime of an outgoing message rang from his phone, and his fingers stilled over the communicator. Then he snapped it shut and stowed it on his belt before standing. Finally, he turned to look at her with pursed lips and an exaggerated sigh. “Look, you’re a temp,” she raised her brow, and crossed her arms for good measure, but he continued on, completely undeterred. “And you’re still pretty new at all of this. But there’s something you need to understand.”

“And that is?”

“Ladybug and I… we’re in this together.”

“And now I’m in it too.”

“No,” he said, a hint of laughter in his voice. Like he was correcting a silly thing a child had said. “She and I are in this together. It’s been us from the start. And no offence, but you’re no replacement for her.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not trying to replace her. I’m just filling in for a bit.” He looked like he had more he wanted to say. Before he could begin to say anything else, she turned, glancing back over her shoulder as she loosened her bolas from her waist. “Now are we going to patrol, or what?’ Without waiting for a response, she snapped her bolas and swung herself into the air.

***

The wind whipped through her hair as she flew across the rooftops. They were going so fast, her feet barely touched the ground. It seemed Chat still had a point to prove.

Though what he was hoping to accomplish—what he was thinking he would accomplish if he proved his point—was frankly, beyond her. Did he actually think she would stop showing up for patrol?

Her bolas cracked like a whip, the sound cutting through to city noise as she latched onto a chimney and swung herself to land on the next roof.

“You know,” Chat grunted as he landed on the roof a step behind her, “I can handle this on my own.”

It was a funny thing for him to say, given he had been petulant about Ladybug not being there in the first place. “Like I said,” she said as she vaulted over a retaining wall, “Ladybug asked me to fill in.”

“You could go home early.”

“I’m not going to go back on a promise.” It took her a few seconds to realize Chat wasn’t running beside—behind—her anymore. She slid to a stop and turned to look back at him. He was standing a few feet back, frowning at her with his arms crossed. “Why did she need you to cover for her anyway?”

“Didn’t she tell you?”

“She said she had something she needed to work on, but she wouldn’t tell me what.”

“There’s your answer then,” she sighed.

That, apparently, was the wrong thing to say.

“And why did she ask you to fill in for her?” he demanded, crossing his arms even tighter across his chest as he stalked a few steps toward her.

She couldn’t exactly tell him Ladybug had asked her to cover for her because she—as a civilian—had encouraged Ladybug—also as a civilian—to take time to do something for herself. Like make herself a nice dress for the dance she was going to with the guy she liked…

“I guess the same reason she’s asked me to help out in battles,” she said, feigning blithe ignorance and biting down hard on her sharper words. She was already getting a headache from his petulance, and she wasn’t in the mood to pick a fight.

Finishing one on the other hand…

“We don’t need you for patrols,” he said acidly. The ‘for patrols’ sentiment sounded like an afterthought. “Ladybug and I are perfectly capable-“

“She’s busy.”

“Well, I’m fully capable of handling it on my own. We never asked the other part-timers to help out with them.”

She shrugged. “Well, Ladybug asked me to. Now are we going to continue?”

Chat said nothing, but he sniffed as he brushed past her to continue along the roof. She bit back a sigh, but indulged in rolling her eyes as she turned to follow him.

***

The bright, late-morning sun filtered through the porthole into her room, filling the room with warm light from the way it reflected off of her dressing table mirror. Which was directing the light right into her eyes.

Squinting with disgust, she burrowed back into the somewhat dark depths of her sheets to shelter herself from the sun that had no right being so bright this early. Well, early was a relative statement. Couaffaines were not morning people.

And she especially, was not a morning person on the best of days.

The late night patrol from the night before—which had resulted in a Chat-induced headache—hadn’t exactly helped. That and…

In the relative safety of the shadows of her bedding, she frowned at her phone screen

Alya 🦊?! unsent a message

It wasn’t like Alya to unsend messages. There was the odd occasion where Alya sent a message to the girl’s chat instead of the class—minus Chloe and Sabrina—chat. But that only happened once in a blue moon. And she never bothered to unsend the messages.

The only reason Alya would unsend a message would be if she didn’t want someone to see it.

But she had sent it to the Adrienette chat… not the girl squad one…

None of the other girls had acknowledged the unsent message, and she hadn’t had a chance to see it before Alya had retracted it. She had been a little busy trying to will the sun to shine somewhere else so she could go back to sleep.

The little dots indicating Alya was typing again appeared on the screen. She watched as they appeared and disappeared before, after what felt like an eternity, she sent her message.

Alya 🦊?!: so r we still on for meeting at 11?

She frowned.

There was no acknowledgement of the unsent message. No indication of why she had retracted it.

Nothing.

It was… weird.

Rose 🌹💗: Yes!! I just have to let my nails dry

Alix 🛼 : gonna be late

Alix 🛼 : still at the park with Kim and Max

Alix 🛼 : Kim actually thinks he can win this race 🙄🙄🙄

Mylène 🌼 : I’m just finishing up some gardening

Mylène 🌼 : I’ll need a quick shower but I’ll be there

Rose 🌹💗: @Queen of Darkness are you alive yet, bijou??

Queen of Darkness 🦇: barely

Queen of Darkness 🦇: but I’ll be there

Like she would miss this meeting.

Rose 🌹💗: 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Alya 🦊?!: cool

She frowned again as she stared at Alya’s response, which felt entirely too short for a confirmation they would all be attending a scheming session. Alya was being… weird was the only word she could really use to describe it. And it wasn’t just the message that was weird.

Alya was always a bit weird, especially with all the Adrien stuff looking back on it now. But ever since the shopping trip, she had been especially weird. When she had, as offhandedly and casually as she could, mentioned it to Rose, Rose had simply brushed it off as Alya just being focused on getting Adrien and Marinette together before the school year ended.

But she couldn’t shake the way Alya had looked to her for agreement in the shoe store, or the look she had given her when Luka had shown up and derailed Alya’s scheme. And then there had been the text… the short, curt, and abrupt text that still had her on edge.

Alya hadn’t said anything since. And Alya was not afraid of confrontation. It was the little things. The little looks Alya shot her when she thought she wasn’t looking. And now…

That unsent message was giving her vibes.

She couldn’t put her finger on it, but it was… it was weird.

She shook her head. Maybe it was something. But maybe it was nothing. She had been counter-scheming for so long, maybe she was seeing things where there weren’t any? Either way, it was obvious she needed a bit of a break.

Tapping on her screen, she pulled up her text chat with just Rose.

Queen of Darkness 🦇: do you want to go our for lunch after the meeting?

Queen of Darkness 🦇: maybe grab some frozen yogurt after and go for a walk in the park?

They were long overdue for a real date. And it would be nice to get off the boat and spend some time with just Rose. And hopefully, it would help her unwind and relax a bit.

Rose 🌹💗: I already have plans!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Rose 🌹💗: I’m sorry bijou 😭😭😭😭😭😭

She sighed. She had been hoping for a nice day out, but it would have to wait. She started to type out a reply when Rose, in typical fashion, continued her barrage of messages.

Rose 🌹💗: I would reschedule them if I could but they’re important

Rose 🌹💗: and time sensitive

Rose’s messages made her pause. It wasn’t unusual for Rose to have important plans she couldn’t reschedule. After all, when she was video chatting with Prince Ali, they were at the whims of his often erratic schedule. But Rose always told her if she was chatting with Ali, or what her plans were for that matter.

Rose wasn’t obligated to tell her what her plans were. And she never expected her to. But Rose always told her. Unprompted too. And Rose knew she didn’t have to, and that she wouldn’t ask if she didn’t offer the reason herself because she wanted to respect Rose’s privacy.

So it wasn’t a problem that Rose hadn’t said what her plans were. But it was… well, she couldn’t help but feel it was weird.

Rose 🌹💗: can I take you out tomorrow? 💖💖💖💖💖💖

Queen of Darkness 🦇: of course 💜 and don’t worry about it 💜

She let her phone drop from her hand to bounce against the mattress as she stared up at the ceiling, partially obscured by the sheets she still had shielding her from the light. Maybe she was reading too much into things. After all, people unsent messages. And Rose knew she didn’t have to share every detail of her life. But she just couldn’t ignore that niggling feeling in the back of her head.

And she doubted she would be able to get rid of it any time soon.

Before she could dwell on it further, or drag herself from her bed to start getting ready like she probably should have fifteen minutes ago given the time, the sound of footsteps against stairs caught her attention.

“Morning little miss sunshine,” Luka chuckled as their door squeaked out.

Groaning, she sat up, her bedding still bundled around her, and gave him the evilest glare she could muster. He was in an entirely too good of a mood considering it was still technically morning.

He was even humming as he made his way over to his side of the room. And smiling stupidly down at the bags he was carrying…

Her eyes zeroed in on the shopping bags he was carrying. They were all from thrift stores Marinette had, at this point, dragged everyone to. He had mentioned that he would be looking for something to wear to the dance this weekend. After she had pestered him repeatedly that he couldn’t show up looking like a dork. Well, as much of a dork as he usually looked.

“So, what did you get?” she asked as she emerged from her bed to take a couple steps across the room.

“Nothing that will interest you,” he started to say, trailing off as an even dopier grin spread across his face as he glanced down at the contents of his bags.

Interesting…

She moved to peer into the closest bag, but with lightning quick reflexes—that would have caught her off guard if she didn’t know he moonlighted as Viperion—he snatched the bag away. “You know I’m going to see what you’re wearing eventually, right?” she grumbled. “It’s my school’s dance, remember?”

“Yeah, well…” Luka mumbled as his face and ears turned a particularly interesting shade of pink. “Don’t forget, we’re moving up dye night because of the dance.”

“Like I would forget,” she said, scoffing at his blatant change in topic.

“And what happened to you last night?”

“Hmm?”

“That miniseries you love, you know, the one that adapts all those creepy short stories-”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“It was on last night, and I was going to tell you but I couldn’t find you.”

She shrugged. “I was around.” Technically, it was true. Her patrol had ended about the same time the show usually started. But Ladybug had been late picking up the miraculous, which was unsurprising given Marinette’s tendency to get lost in the process when she had a project to work on. And rather than going out for an extra run and making Ladybug wait for her, it had made more sense to just hang around the Liberty. Sure, she had been hiding, but she had been around.

“Doing what?”

“It was the witching hour, do you really want to know?” With that, she threw on her robe, and hastily made her way to the kitchen—and some much needed coffee—before Luka could ask any more questions.

***

“Everything go ok tonight?”

“Yeah. It was nice to stretch my legs.”

“Great!” Ladybug beamed, her eyes vivid and sparkling. “And you’re all set for tomorrow?”

She nodded. Tomorrow would be her first solo patrol, and honestly, she was excited for the chance to patrol the city without having to drag along an irritable cat.

“Ok, then I can meet you at your place at nine-” Ladybug’s words cut off at her cringe.

“Sorry, I forgot, I might be a little late tomorrow.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve got plans that probably won’t wrap up until half past eight at the earliest.” Knowing Alya, the meeting would definitely go overtime, meaning she would be cutting it pretty close. “I can find a way to bail…” But given the way Alya had been acting lately… it would probably be best not to leave early… Alya had been a little too pushy about her involvement and support of the Adrien schemes. To say nothing of all the… the vibes she had been getting from Alya…

“Hang onto it until the end of patrol tomorrow then,” Ladybug said, pressing the miraculous back into her hands.

“What? But…” Ladybug always took back the miraculous after battles and patrols. As far as she knew, none of the temp heroes had ever gotten to hold onto their miraculous outside of active use.

Ladybug closed her fingers around the miraculous. “I trust you with it.”

***

She had been looking forward to her first solo patrol. She had been looking forward to taking in the city at night in peace. Or at least, as much peace as could be found in Paris at night.

The point being, she had been looking forward to it.

And then Shadowmoth had just had to go and ruin her evening.

What was worse, he was interrupting Marinette.

And given how tight Marinette’s deadline was… she had no interest in letting this fight drag out.

“Taste my wrath!” Jets of molten cheese burst from the prongs of Fondoom’s oversized fondue fork and streaked through the air toward Ladybug. Ladybug dove to the side, ducking behind the cover of an abandoned car. The stench of sour milk, compost, something akin to Kim’s gym socks, and a general funk hit her like a wall with such force it almost knocked her over. From behind the car Ladybug had rolled behind she could hear gagging.

“That is revolting,” she gasped as she stumbled back a few steps, narrowing missing a puddle of gooey cheese. The last thing she wanted to do was get stuck in the stuff.

“Artisanal cheeses are wasted on the likes of you,” Fondoom snarled before lunging at her with his fork. She danced out of the way, nimbly—but narrowly—avoiding being speared by the fork. Just like the odour he and his attacks were emitting, Fondoom was relentless. His fork was a silver blur as he swung and stabbed at her, all while trying to douse her in molten cheese. She was too fast for him, but she was getting nauseous.

She unfurled her bolas from her waist and snapped them at Fondoom, throwing him off balance. He had to catch himself against the ground using his fork. But what he had failed to notice was how close he had gotten to some of the pungent puddles he had left all over the place.

“No. One. Appreciates,” he growled as he struggled to pull his fork from the cheese, “Fine. Cheeses. Anymore.” He wrenched his fork free with a roar.

“Not when they smell like that,” she quipped, snapping her bolas as he raised his fork, sending him skittering back to plant his feet directly in the cheese he had just freed himself from.

“Lucky charm!” She looked in the direction of Ladybug’s nasally shout, being careful to keep an eye on the akuma as he struggled against his own cheese. Ladybug’s yoyo shot up into the air as she pinched her nose shut with her other hand.

A pair of red and black spotted nose plugs appeared in a rain of sparkling light before dropping into Ladybug’s outstretched hand. She slipped one over her nose, and then turned to her. “Tigress!”

She easily caught the nose plug, and slipped it into place.

“Sweet relief,” she sighed, and Ladybug immediately burst into giggles. “What?”

“You- you sound funny,” Ladybug laughed, “And you’ve got cheese in your hair.”

“Yeah, well,” she said, having to hold back her own laughter at how oddly nasal and high her voice sounded, “so do you.”

Ladybug blinked at her, and then her giggles descended into howls of laughter as she picked her way through the cheese covered street. By the time Ladybug had made her way over, she was almost doubled over; they had to lean on each other as they tried to control their laughter.

“If- if my hair stinks of cheese after your miraculous cure-” she gasped between peals of laughter, “you owe me a bottle of shampoo. Make that three,” she added, playfully shoving Ladybug’s shoulder.”

At some point in their hysterics, Fondoom had managed to fall flat onto his back into the cheese and was well and truly stuck. And it seemed the civilians who had been cowering in the shops and cars lining the street had caught on that the danger had passed, as they were beginning to emerge. Vaguely, she was aware of some pointing their phones at her and Ladybug as they both fought to keep it together.

But it was hard.

Between how ridiculous they sounded and must have looked with cheese in their hair, and with how outright ridiculous this akuma had been—seriously, what had Shadowmoth been thinking?—and how tired they both were, how could they not laugh?

“We should- we should…” Ladybug wheezed as she wiped a stray tear and gestured uselessly at Fondoom, who had seemingly given up struggling against the cheese and was just staring forlornly at the sky, muttering about how ‘no one appreciated traditional cheese anymore.’

“I’m- ready when you are,” she gasped as she tried to push herself up from leaning on her friend.

“M’lady! I’m-” Chat’s breathless gasp snapped her out of the worst of her laughter. She turned just in time to see Chat staring at her and Ladybug, still leaning against each other and stifling the odd giggle. “here…” he finished, his voice trailing off as his eyes darted between the two of them. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Ladybug said, forcing back her laughter as she straightened up. “It was stupid.” There was still a ring of laughter in her voice as she tried to put on her professional smile. “We should deal with the akuma.”

“Right-” her grip tightened on her bolas, ready to strike them against the fork and release the akuma when Chat cried out.

“Cataclysm!” A streak of black whizzed in front of her, and the next thing she knew, the fork had crumbled and a dark butterfly had fluttered out of it’s remains.

Chat smiled smugly at her, before letting his gaze land on Ladybug as she purified the akuma. Once the silvery white butterfly had been released from her yoyo, Ladybug turned to her ruefully and slipped off her nose plug. With a grimace, she slipped her own off handed it to Ladybug, who promptly cast them into the air with a hurried cry of “Miraculous Ladybug!”

The swarm of Ladybugs rushed over and past her—hopefully removing the cheese and stench from her hair as they went—before swarming out over the street. By the time they had disappeared, the worst of the smell was gone. But a fainter—though still strong—aroma remained, emanating from the rather ruffled looking man lying in the street, clutching a fondue fork—now normal sized—and a box of Epoisse de Bourgogne.

“I just wanted to introduce her to the world of fine cheeses” the man mumbled dolefully as he sat up.

“Hey,” she said quietly, making her way over to crouch beside him. Gently, she rested her hand on his shoulder, ignoring the beep coming from her miraculous. She still had two minutes. “Maybe… maybe next time start with something a little less-” she stopped herself before she could say rank. “Odiferous. Work your…”

“Girlfriend.”

“Work your girlfriend’s way up to it.” The man offered her a shaky smile. Satisfied, she stood and offered him her hand. Once she had pulled the man to his feet, she turned.

“It’s been fur-ever, M’lady,” Chat said as leaned against his staff. “What say you and I have a moonlight picnic? All that cheese made me hungry.”

How? How could anyone be hungry after smelling that?

“I can’t, I keep telling you, I’m busy.”

Chat pouted as he pushed himself off his staff to stand up straight. “Too busy for me?”

“Chat…” Ladybug sighed, reaching up to massage her temples. But before she could say anything else, her earring beeped. And her bracelet was quick to follow.

“That’s one minute for me.”

Even if it hadn’t been, she would have said it was. She knew he kept sending Ladybug messages about patrols, and the last couple of battles, he had complained about it. Multiple times.

And he seemed completely unaware that Ladybug’s patience was waning.

Ladybug nodded at her, then turned back to Chat. “Can you help him home?” she asked, nodding to the man.

“But-”

“Chat.”

“Fine,” Chat grumbled.

Ladybug nodded at him, the turned to her. “C’mon. I think we can call it a night for your patrol.“Nodding, she followed after Ladybug. “Be honest,” Ladybug said quietly as they turned, “does my hair still stink of cheese?”

A bark of laughter escaped her as she shook her head. “No, you’re good.”

Ladybug giggled. “You too.” And then she cast her yoyo, and let it pull her up to the rooftops.

She was about to follow when she froze, feeling the invisible weight of eyes on her.. Quickly, she glanced over her shoulder; Chat was still standing there, watching her.

Shaking her head, she turned, swung herself toward the roofline.

***

“I’ll be back in a few minutes,” Bustier said with another of her syrupy smiles as she hovered by the open door to the classroom, “M. Damocles only needs to see me for a few minutes, so take this time to review the stages of the Hero’s Journey, and then we’ll discuss when I return.” With that, their teacher left the room and headed towards the principals office, seemingly blithely ignorant of the fact that no one in the class was even remotely engaging in the lesson.

“And…” Alix said, dragging out the word as she craned her neck to look out the windows into the hallway, “she’s gone.”

“Did you guys see the pictures from the battle last night?” Rose squealed as soon as the coast had been declared clear.

“I missed it,” Alya moaned before flopping dramatically onto her desk. “I didn’t get any pictures,” Alya continued, her voice muffled by the desk.

“But babe, you told me you were heading there-”

“I got stuck in cheese!” Alya cried, sitting back up. “I was only a block away! And all those people- they were right there. The pictures were amazing! And it smelled disgusting!”

Marinette patted Alya’s shoulder comfortingly. But the motion seemed a little more awkward than usual. A little more reserved.

“They are pretty amazing,” Alix said as she glanced at her phone. She craned her neck to get a better look at Alix’s screen.

One of the many pictures taken the previous night was pulled up on the phone. It was one of the ones that had been taken when she and Ladybug were in the midst of their fit of laughter.

“I wish I had been there…” Kim sighed longingly. “What?” he asked, when met with incredulous looks. “Have you seen the way Tigress throws those weight thingies of hers?”

“Bolas,” Max corrected.

“Boas,” Kim repeated—sort of—“I would love to challenge her to a discus throw.”

“My money’s on Tigress,” Alix snorted.

“Mine too! She’s so cool!” Rose chirped.

“Yeah, Marc and I are writing her into the next issue of the comic.”

She bit the inside of her keep to keep her grin in check. It would look weird if she just started randomly grinning—of course, it was hardly random given she was the one they were heaping praise upon—but try as she might, the heat in her cheeks wasn’t subsiding. Under the ruse of doodling, she dropped her gaze to try and hide her flaming cheeks. But through her curtain of hair, she caught sight of Adrien.

Like everyone else seated in the front rows—excluding Chloe and Sabrina who seemed to be skipping class entirely—he was turned towards the back to be more part of the conversation. But unlike everyone else, he looked less than thrilled by the topic of conversation. Sure, he had his usual, bland, model smile pasted on his face. But his smile was tight, and his eyes were hard.

There was that green-eyed monster again…

“Yeah?” Mylène asked.

“Yeah, she’s been around so much lately, and she and Ladybug are obviously friends, so it seemed like a good choice to bring her in. Plus she adds a really cool dynamic.”

Adrien’s smile slipped at that.

Marinette’s on the other hand… “I think that’s a great idea, Nathanial! I think it’s high time Ladybug had a friend.”

“What about Chat Noir?”

Everyone turned to blink at Adrien. It hadn’t been an… outburst per se, but it had been… unexpected. Based on the pink tinge that was quickly rising in his face, it seemed he hadn’t meant to say that quite so loud. If at all…

Ivan cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Chat Noir and Ladybug have been together since the beginning.”

The others nodded in agreement. But she saw Marinette’s smile slip from her face.

“But it’s different with him,” Alya said. She wasn’t sure who was more surprised. Her, Marinette, or Adrien.

“What do you mean?” Adrien somehow meekly demanded.

Alya shrugged. “Sure, they’re best friends. But they’re also meant to be, so that makes their dynamic a little different. Tigress is a girl, so it’s only natural they’re going to talk about stuff Ladybug wouldn’t normally talk to Chat Noir about.” She didn’t miss the jealous edge in Alya’s voice. If Alya had been who she thought she had been, she was betting Alya had been hoping she would be filling the role of Ladybug’s friend.

It was more than a little ironic…

“That makes sense,” Kim mused before brightening. “It’s like how you girls talk about who you have crushes o- ow!” Kim turned in his seat to glare at Rose. “What was that for?”

Rose smiled sweetly at him, still kicking her legs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said innocently with a dangerous glint in her eyes.

“Right…” Kim said, shrinking back a little and warily eying Rose’s swinging legs. He had obviously received the message loud and clear.

“They seem like the kind of friends who would tell each other everything,” Rose sighed happily. “It’s so cute seeing that side of Ladybug.”

Maybe not everything…

But pretty close…

“Ladybug would never tell someone her identity,” Adrien mumbled.

She snapped her head to look at Adrien, but before her gaze settled on blond hair and green eyes, brown eyes behind glasses caught her attention. Nino’s eyes widened as his previously thought-furrowed brows rose to disappear under the brim of his cap as her eyes met his. He ducked his head to look down at his desk before—very obviously—turning his attention to Adrien.

That was… weird-

“I concur, Ladybug has always been very protective regarding her identity. However,” Max said, the light glinting off his glasses as he looked up from his phone, “they do appear to be very close friends.”

“Yes!” Markov added, “we have recently been analyzing resources on body language to update my database, and Tigress and Ladybug regularly display body language that communicates a deep sense of trust and friendship!”

“And even if they don’t share their identities, they totally seem like share everything else!”

“Maybe…” Adrien said, though it sounded more like he was talking to himself. Disgruntlement was no longer showing through the cracks in his model facade. His brows furrowed as if he were deep in thought. There was a spark in his eye that reminded her of-

“I wonder what they talk about,” Ivan mused.

Her own brows furrowed as she watched Adrien. Why was he suddenly so-

“Bustier’s coming!”

***

For the second time since she had started patrolling for Ladybug, Chat Noir was waiting for her at the meeting place. In fact, he was early. It was… weird.

The first time, he had obviously been expecting Ladybug despite being told multiple times Ladybug wouldn’t be patrolling for the last two weeks of June. Every other night, he had shown up after her, all but dragging his feet.

She held back a groan. She was still a few rooftops away, but with her enhanced vision and her night vision—one of the many perks of the tiger miraculous—she had a clear view of him. He was sitting in another clearly practiced pose that was meant to look casual. Ladybug had told him—again—she wouldn’t be patrolling… but based on the way he was waiting… apparently that didn’t mean anything.

She was not in the mood for an argument tonight; all she wanted was to blow off some steam, make sure there were no signs of any akumas or sentimonsters, and then go home and curl up in bed with a book.

While she had successfully held back her groan before, she couldn’t stop a sigh from escaping her now.

There was no point in putting off the inevitable any further.

With the effortless grace her miraculous granted her, she crossed the rest of the rooftops and landed behind Chat. His cat ears twitched at the sound of her landing—it had seemed like a good idea to clue him in to her arrival before he saw her—and he pushed himself off the chimney he had been leaning against as if posing for a campaign.

He turned to her with a suave smile.

That didn’t drop the moment he saw it was her…

What-

“Tigress,” he greeted her, seemingly channeling every drop of charisma he had in his body into his voice. “How are you?”

Ok…

She had thought it was weird he was early, but she didn’t even know how to begin to describe… this…

“Fine…” she said carefully, watching him warily as he grinned and sauntered toward her.

“Good… good,” he murmured, almost to himself.

What was going on?

Had she missed something?

Had he been zapped by an akuma?

He tilted his head back to take in the lights of the city, and let out a wistful sigh. “Isn’t the city beautiful at night?”

“Sure…”

Where was he going with this?

As if finally noticing she wasn’t charmed, he turned to grin at her. “Look,” he said as he leaned on his staff and offered her what she was sure would be a charming grin, if not for the fact that she was utterly un-charmed by it. And wasn’t that a sudden change in tune… “I think you and I maybe got off on the wrong foot.”

And whose fault was that?

“I mean, we are practically cousins, after all.” That line? Again? “And shouldn’t family stick together?”

She would stick by Luka and her ma through anything.

Chat, on the other hand, was not family, no matter what miraculous she had.

But she would be lying if she wasn’t curious to see where he was trying to steer this conversation. And agreeing with him seemed like the most direct path to his intended destination. “Sure.” It was technically a sentiment she agreed with, just not in the context he had given. “Should we get going?” As much as she wanted to figure out the sudden attitude change, it was starting to feel awkward just standing around with him being so… yeah.

And she could just as easily get to the bottom of this while blowing off some of this awkward energy.

“After you,” he said with a bow that wasn’t the least bit mocking. But was plenty thick with obvious attempts at flattery.

Ok…

Casting another wary glance at him, she loosened her bolas and swung them to latch onto some scaffolding on the next building over.

Chat insisted on making small talk as they scoured the city for any signs of Shadowmoth. It was… she wanted to say it was a nice break from the open hostility and the pointed, green-eyed glances he usually shot her way. But in some ways, his sudden friendliness was worse. At least she hand known what to expect the last few patrols.

But this?

He obviously had some kind of angle.

He obviously wanted something.

“Tigress?”

She shook her head to try and clear her thoughts, and turned to Chat. “Sorry, what?”

“I’m ready for a break, want to take a rest up there?” he asked, pointing with his staff toward the Palais Garnier in the distance.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

He nodded, and shot her what many would consider a winning grin. Then he took a running start and used his staff to launch himself into the air in the direction of the Palais Garnier. She watched him through narrowed eyes as he bounded across the rooftops, her frown returning.

So far, he had not been very forthcoming on what it was he wanted. It seemed he was more interested in laying on the flattery.

Thickly.

She had a feeling she wouldn’t like it—whatever it was he wanted—when she did find out…

Before she could psych herself out, she ran toward the edge of the roof and leapt into the air.

By the time she made it to the roof, he was waiting in yet another perfectly practiced pose. She recognized it as another pose from one of his previous campaigns. Sure, in the magazine he had been leaning against a bookshelf in the library whereas now, he was leaning against the base of one of the Lequesne Pagasi. But the offhand grace and winsome smile that were obviously meant to make him look approachable were the same.

She had barely taken two steps onto the roof when he turned the full force of his smile on her. Not that it had any effect. “You hungry?” Before she could so much as reply, he was already busying himself with opening a compartment in his baton. Carefully, he extracted a box and opened its lid before holding it out to her.

They were chocolates.

Expensive chocolates.

Expensive, chocolatey bribes if his sudden change in tune was anything to go by.

But sure. She would bite.

Carefully, she selected a chocolate from the box.

Just because she took the chocolate didn’t mean she had to take the bribe.

She popped the chocolate into her mouth. It was rich and decadent and tasted as expensive as she imagined it had been. Though she didn’t dwell too long on how expensive; some things were better left unknown. It was amazing. But-

“They’re good, right?��

She nodded. “They are, thanks.”

He smiled like the cat that had just caught the canary. He was obviously pleased with himself. “Have another,” he coaxed, holding the box out to her.

She complied. It wasn’t like she was about to turn down free chocolate.

And they were amazing. But as amazing as they were, she swore she could taste the strings attached to them.

She watched as he popped a chocolate into his own mouth and hummed in bliss. They finished the rest of the chocolates in relative silence. With every bite she took, the less she tasted chocolate and the more she tasted the bitterness of the bribe.

“So Tigress…” he turned to her, raking a hand through his golden hair and offering her a charming yet abashed smile that reeked of being rehearsed. “Can I ask you something.”

Struggling to chew the last of her chocolate, she nodded.

“You and Ladybug are friends, right?”

So that was what this was all about? What they had been talking about in class earlier?

Typical.

Thickly, she swallowed the last bite of her chocolate. “Yeah, she and I are friends,” she said carefully.

“And you two are close, right?

Technically, she and Marinette were close. “I guess you could say that-”

“So you tell each other stuff then.” It wasn’t so much a question as a statement. His eyes were fixed on her firmly now, and if she weren’t a tigress, she imaged she would have felt like prey.

But as she was a tigress… “A little bit, but not much.” She and Marinette on the other hand…

“What are her favourite flowers?”

“What-“

“I’ve always gone with red roses because they’re classic.” His attention was suddenly off her as he gazed thoughtfully out at the skyline. But just as suddenly, his eyes snapped back to her. “But maybe that’s the problem; so what other kinds of flowers does she like?”

Cherry blossoms. Peonies. Lilacs.

To name a few.

Luka could probably recite all of Marinette’s favourites in reverse order in his sleep.

“You don’t know?”

“Obviously,” he chuckled, though there was a tinge of bitter annoyance, “that’s why I asked.”

“And you’re asking me because…” she let her voice trail off as she turned to raise a brow at him.

“The two of you are friends.” He said it like it was supposed to explain all the intricacies of the Universe.

“Yeah. But why not ask her? And why wait this long to ask?”

“I thought roses were the right direction. They symbolize love, you know. True love, to be exact.” He sighed as he ran a hand through his hair again, and shot her a a charming yet hopeless smile that she was sure was meant to elicit pity. “But I guess they weren’t the right choice after all…”

Because it was the flowers that were the issue…

“And girls like picnics, right?”

“What-”

“I thought they did. And they always do romantic, moonlight picnics in the movies. But every time I try one, it never seems to work. But maybe a picnic isn’t the right direction? Maybe I need to do something bolder?”

She bit back a groan. “Some girls like picnics, sure. But not all girls.” Of course, Marinette did like picnics. But it was always more about the company… “And I don’t think-”

“Ok, so no picnics,” Chat said as he stood abruptly. He turned, and began to pace, completely ignoring what she had been about to say. “But then what? Maybe a boat ride along the Seine? No… Too many tourists. The cinema might be fun… I could take her to see the new Ladybug and Chat Noir movie!” He paused in his pacing, then frowned before muttering, “But all our fans would probably be watching us if we did something so public, and that wouldn’t be very romantic. Maybe I could- no, that would be no good. A rooftop picnic is the best option for privacy but those haven’t worked before-” he whirled to face her, and she swore she saw the lightbulb go off over his head. “I’ve got it!”

Oh no.

“It’s perfect!”

Here we go…

“If you put in a good word for me to Ladybug, apparently girl friends talk to each other about stuff they don’t talk about with their guy friends,” he added for her benefit, as if it was something she didn’t already know, “then she’ll have to agree! And I can bring takeout from her favourite restaurant- do you know what it is, by the way?” he was pacing with renewed vigour and energy. But it wasn’t the aimless pacing of before. It seemed he was set on his plan. “And her favourite flowers? You never told me what they were. If I have her favourites of everything ready for her at the picnic then it will be perfect and she’ll realize-”

“It isn’t going to work.”

He froze misstep and turned to look at her. The mask of cheery camaraderie slipped. Just for a second. The it was back. But much more forced than before.

“Of course it will,” he said, trying to laugh lightheartedly. But it sounded just as forced as his smile. “It’s easy! You put in a good word for me, since she listens to you,” despite his obvious attempts, he wasn’t able to mask the bitterness in his voice. “And you tell me what she would want for a first date-”

“You can’t use my friendship with her to try and date her.”

“But nothing I’ve done has worked!”

She shrugged. “That’s life.”

He glowered at her. “So you’re just going to stand in the way of true love? Of destiny?”

Fate… destiny… the Universe…

Whatever he wanted to call it, it wasn’t like she hadn’t been standing in its way for the past few months.

She refused to shrink under his glower. He seemed to realize pretty quick that she wasn’t going to balk under his glare. “You just don’t get it,” he snapped, his face shifting into a petulant pout. “She and I are meant to be. She’s the only one who doesn’t see it. But she never even gives me a chance!” He stalked back toward the statue and leaned against it sullenly, kicking the stone of the roof for good measure. ”I’m just so tired of her turning me down. I wish she would just stop rejecting me and realize what’s been obvious to everyone else since the start.”

His words hung heavy in the air. With his tantrum over and done with—she hoped—he seemed set on moping. And frankly, she was long past tired of it. Of his jealousy-fuelled hostility. Of his whining and complaining. Of his sulking. What she was going to say would probably make him mad. But she was over it.

She just hoped it would be worth it.

“You know,” she said slowly, watching him out of the corner of her eye, “there is a way for you to get her to stop rejecting you.”

He perked up immediately, turning to look at her with the delight of someone what had just been told they were going to be told the secrets of the Universe. “Really? How?”

“It’ll be hard-“

“I’ll do anything to get her to stop rejecting me-“

“Stop asking her out.”

His face went blank. He stared at her silently, looking as if he was trying to puzzle out one of Mendeleiev’s homework assignments. “How will that-“

“You’re tired of her saying no?” He nodded. “Then stop asking. She’s already given you her answer-“

“But-“

“And she’s been way nicer about it than she needs to. And she’s given way more reasons than she needs to. No is reason enough.”

“You just don’t get it- you’re a temp. She and I have been in it since the beginning. Me and her against the world,” he sighed wistfully, “we were chosen to be partners. It was destiny-“

“And what if I had been chosen instead?” She wasn’t sure which of them was more surprised she had asked that.

“What-“

But it was still a relevant question.

“What if I had been the one chosen to be Ladybug? Would you and I be destined for each other?” That felt wrong to say on so many levels. She sent a silent apology to Rose.

She could practically see the gears turning in his head as he spluttered out nonsense. “What- but- you- she- no. No. It’s different-“

“I don’t see how.”

He laughed, but it was strained. “Look, I’m flattered and all but you know I love-“

“Don’t be.” The beginnings of the casually charming smile that had been making its way onto his face fell back to blank confusion. “I’m seeing someone. And you’re not my type. Not even close. All I’m saying is, magical jewelry seems like a pretty flimsy foundation for true love. Much less destiny.” She stood and made a show of stretching. “Now I’m going to go finish patrol-“

“You’re wrong!” Before she could say anything else, he pushed himself off of the statue and vaulted himself off into the darkness, disappearing into the shadows.

She groaned. It was like arguing with a brick wall.

***

To say patrolling solo was a relief after the previous night was an understatement. She needed the peace and quiet of solitude to clear her head after all of that. And sure, maybe intervening in an armed robbery wasn’t exactly what she would call quiet or peaceful…

But at least it wasn’t headache inducing the way arguing with a certain cat was…

One of the masked robbers ran at her, viciously swinging the knife he was holding.

Really, he should have known better.

Easily and with grace, she stepped aside, using her arm to block the knife as she caught his wrist. Using his own momentum against him, she disarmed and flipped him to the ground in one fluid motion. His blade clattered against the ground, far out of his reach as she pinned him with a knee to his back.

The man grunted, trying to hit her and throw her off of him, but it was futile. He couldn’t reach her with his free hand and with her miraculous, she was too strong for him.

“Hey!”

Her attention snapped to two of the other robbers. They were—rather stupidly—running towards her, brandishing their crowbars. Without relinquishing her grip on the man she had subdued, she loosened her bolas from her waist.

Before the robbers rushing to attack her could even begin to rethink their idiotic plan, she had her bolas free and swinging. Their brash confidence turned to panic as she smirked at them, right before she loosed the bolas.

They streaked through the air in a blur; their whizzing melding with the squeaks of sneakers against tiles as the robbers tried to skid to a stop. The sound of distant sirens joined the mix. The two cried out as the bolas tangled around them both, knocking the crowbars from their hands and binding them together in a mishmash of limbs. They immediately tripped over each other and toppled to the ground where they continued to struggle uselessly against her weapon.

A sharp inhale that sounded an awful lot like a whimper came from the back of the shop.

She snapped her gaze to the fourth and last robber. His eyes were wide and wild with panic as he looked at her. What she could see off his face was stark pale next to the black of his ski mask. His gaze darted around the shop and landed on the window the robbers had originally broken through.

“You really want to do that?” she asked.

His gaze snapped back to her. He looked like he would rather do anything but try and go up against her, but he also looked like he didn’t want to stick around. Especially with the sirens drawing so close. The hand he was brandishing his knife with was shaking, but his feet were—albeit hesitantly—shifting.

Keeping a careful and tight grip on the man she was pinning, she feigned lunging toward the last robber. With a yelp, he skittered backward, tripping and stumbling over his feet to land on his behind. His knife clattered to the ground, and was promptly kicked out of his reach by his own flailing feet as he scrambled back and away from her. Directly into the back corner of the jewelry display he had been in the middle of emptying into his forgotten sack.

“That’s what I thought.”

Barely minutes later, police officers burst into the room with Officer Roger—he and her ma had had enough run ins that he and her family were on a first name basis now—leading the charge, only to find the robbers subdued. Or, in the case of the last one, cowering. After that, the arrest was quick with the only real delay being untangling the robbers from her bolas.

As the last of the robbers was led out in handcuffs, she turned to Officer Roger, who had coughed quietly in a clear attempt to get her attention. With an air of formality and admiration, he stuck his hand out toward her.

“Thank you for your service, Purple Tigress.”

As she shook his hand, she couldn’t help but wonder how he would react if he knew he was shaking the hand of Anarka Couffaine’s daughter.

Spontaneous combustion didn’t seem entirely unrealistic…

“It was no problem, I’m just doing my job.”

***

“So, how did it go tonight?” Ladybug asked as soon as she ducked under the tarps her ma had hung over the stage to cover it from the rain they had gotten earlier in the day. “Any trouble?”

“Everything was fine. Well- there was a bit of a robbery, but it wasn’t any trouble-”

“A robbery? What happened? Are you ok? I didn’t get any messages I’m so sorry I should have been there to-”

“Hey, hey,” she said, quickly placing a gentle hand on Ladybug’s shoulder to interrupt her spiralling. “I was fine. I’m sorry, I should have let you know sooner. There just wasn’t time to alert you and stop them so I just… went for it. And then I got caught up in giving my statement to the police and well… yeah, it isn’t really an excuse. I’m sorry-”

“Don’t be.”

She blinked in surprise at the force in Ladybug’s voice. She hadn’t realized it, but her gaze had drifted down to her feet; the last thing she had wanted was to disappoint Marinette or cause her any stress. She forced herself to look back up at Ladybug; she was staring at her intently, her blue eyes burning.

“You’re ok?” Wordlessly, she nodded. “You aren’t hurt?” She shook her head.

Ladybug nodded. And then she smiled…

And it suddenly dawned on her what it was that was fueling the flames in Ladybug’s eyes.

It was pride…

“You have nothing to apologize for. I’m just glad you’re ok.”

“It was really no big deal…” she mumbled, her cheeks suddenly flaming.

“Hey, none of that,” Ladybug said gently. “Remember what Roarr said?”

She nodded, though she still couldn’t fight the flush in her face. Speaking of Roarr…

Quickly, she dropped her transformation. And once she had given Roarr a quick cuddle and one of the candies she had taken to keeping in her pockets incase of emergencies, she slipped the miraculous off and handed it back to Ladybug.

Ladybug popped it into the box she had waiting. But instead of closing the lid and slipping it into her yoyo, she stared thoughtfully down at the miraculous.

Awkwardly, she shifted her weight between her feet.” Ladybug…?”

“Hmm?” Ladybug glanced up at her.

“Is everything… ok?” she asked hesitantly.

“Oh! Yeah! I’m just…” Ladybug’s gaze flickered back down to the tiger miraculous. Her spotted hand closed around the box, snapping the lid shut before slipping it into her yoyo. When she met her gaze again, Ladybug was smiling. It was a small smile, still tinged with thoughtfulness, but it was genuine. “I’m just thinking about something a friend told me a while ago.”

“Oh.”

Ladybug’s eyes, still burning, were also full of warmth. “Thank you again. For everything.”

“It’s nothing…”

Ladybug let out a quiet chuckle. “Trust me, it’s everything.”

***

“And… boom! He’s down!” Alix crowed, pumping her fist in the air, nearly punching Ivan in the face as she whooped at the video playing on Max’s laptop.

“I want to learn how to do that-”

“No,” Nathaniel said, emphatically shaking his head, “you do not need to know how to do that, Kim.”

“Dudes, how is her aim that good?”

She watched silently as she—well, Tigress—threw her bolas, ensnaring the two robbers. The security camera footage from the jewelry shop had been pulled, and had ended up on the late night news last night. And the early morning news…

“She didn’t even have to do anything to take out that last guy,” Mylène murmured in awe, her eyes glued to the screen.

“She’s pretty tough,” Ivan agreed.

“She’s a total badass is what she is!” Alix corrected.

She tipped her head forward, letting her curtain of hair conceal the grin she couldn’t wipe from her face and her cheeks, which given how warm they were had to been tinged pink. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Adrien roll his eyes. He looked like he had just swallowed a lemon.

“Yeah,” Marinette said as she watched the footage play for the umpteenth time, a wide grin on her face. “She’s incredible!”

Before she could completely combust from compliment overload, Rose hummed thoughtfully. She turned to look at her girlfriend just in time to see Rose tilt her head to the side, her brows furrowed, as she watched to footage.

“I wonder if Ladybug will make her a permanent hero?”

“There’s no way!”

Everyone turned to stare at Adrien. His hands were splayed on the table—he hadn’t quite slammed the table but he looked like he had come pretty close—and his mouth was a tight, twisted line. But as he seemed to realize everyone was suddenly looking at him, his face shifted, his cheeks turning pink. But the sourness in his eyes hadn’t fully vanished, even as embarrassment seemed to overtake him.

“Why not, dude?”

“Well, because…” Adrien began to flounder.

“She has been at almost all of the most recent battles,” Nathaniel said absently.

“And her presence during those battles has improved the efficiency with which akumas and sentimonsters are dealt with,” Max added.

“It is true! We did the calculations ourselves!”

Max nodded. “Additionally, it seems she has been added to the patrol roster.”

“Yeah, well…”

“But none of the other heroes were ever made permanent,” Alya noted, a tinge of jealousy creeping into her voice.

It seemed Adrien had found the life line he needed, and he latched on. “Exactly. It’s always been Ladybug and Chat Noir! The black cat and ladybug from the start. Creation and destruction. Yin and yang. ”

“So?”

She wasn’t sure who out the class was most shocked by Marinette’s question, but for his part, Adrien looked at her like she had grown a second head.

“Adding another full time hero would throw off the balance,” he replied with the utmost confidence and assuredness.

And yet…

“It’s always been the two of them. Why mess with destiny?”

It seemed Adrien wasn’t so much clinging to a life line as he was grasping at straws.

***

Chat glared at her as soon as he landed on the roof.

It seemed they were back to that…

“You’re here again,” he muttered.

She stood, and took a breath. “I am.” Already, she could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on.

“Look,” he said, crossing his arms as he stalked across the roof towards her, “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but it isn’t going to work.”

Game?

He thought this was a game?

Why did that not surprise her?

“There is no game-”

“Then whatever this is,” he hissed, gesturing to her, “this ‘trying to replace Ladybug’ thing-”

“I’m not trying to replace Ladybug!” she all but shouted.

“I never see her anymore! Except for during akuma attacks.” It was almost impressive how he was able to hiss and whine at the same time. “It’s always you.”

“I told you, she’s busy.”

“She’s always too busy for me these days-“

Something she deeply admired about her brother was his ability to stay cool. Especially with a ma like theirs. He was slow to anger, and even slower to act on that anger. And his patience at times seemed near infinite. Sometimes to his detriment.

But is was still something she admired about Luka. And something she tried to emulate.

And she had tried.

She really had.

The last thing she wanted to do was make things awkward or more difficult for Ladybug in any way.

But there was only so much she could take.

And she was at her limits.

Past them, actually.

“It isn’t about you!” she snapped. “She’s busy. She has things she needs to do.”

“So she goes to you instead of me?”

“She asked. And if she hadn’t, I would have offered.” Chat snorted. “It’s not fair that she has to do so much on her own.”

“She isn’t on her own! She has me! That should be enough.” Chat threw his arms in the air, turned, stalked a few steps away, and then whirled back to face her as he gestured to himself. “If she wanted more help, she should have asked me!”

“You’re her partner?”

“Her only partner,” he said coldly.

“Then she shouldn’t have to ask you to step up.”

“She and I have kissed! Multiple times!”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“She and I are partners. Soul mates. How is that not destiny?”

“Let me count the ways.” She held up a single finger. “If you have to have all your memories erased in order for someone to kiss you, your ‘destiny’ is looking pretty grim.”

“The Oblivio thing happened one time! We didn’t have amnesia the other-“

“Yeah,” she held up a second finger, “Nothing says romance like having to kiss someone because they’re brainwashed and trying to bash your brains out.”

“You’re just jealous,” Chat spat.

“Of who? Of what?”

“I-“

“I’m seeing someone. She and I are-”

“She?”

“Yes, she. And no, I’m not dating Ladybug, nor do I want to. She and I are friends. Good friends. But that’s it. Or do you think I’m jealous that you’re her ‘partner?’” He opened his mouth to retort, but she was done listening to his ludicrous accusations. “I’m here to do a job. A job she asked me to do. And I’m going to do my job to the best of my abilities, and have her back because that’s what she needs of me. And I am not going to let her down.”

He planted his staff against the roof hard enough for the sound to cut her off. Momentarily. Before he could open his mouth again, she she drew herself up to her full height and stepped forward with the force of the words flowing out of her mouth.

“You don’t own her. And she doesn’t owe you her love. So stop acting like it and step up and do your job.”

Her chest was heaving; she hadn’t expected to get so into it with him.

She hadn’t necessarily meant to.

But she couldn’t bring herself to regret it.

Not even a little bit.

She had meant every word she had said.

He glowered at her.

And then he turned tail and disappeared into the darkness.

***

She grit her teeth as she flexed her claws.

Why?

Why tonight?

Why couldn’t Shadowmoth just chill?

Marinette didn’t have much time left to work on her dress. The dance was the day after tomorrow. She had said she would be done her dress on time, but that had been earlier in the day. When the girls had been pestering her for a sneak peek—because Marinette had been very tightlipped about her dress—when she had thought she would have the entire evening.

Except now, they were dealing with a category five akuma.

And it was not going well.

With a furious cry, she slashed at the net the akuma had trapped her in, shredding it to pieces and freeing herself and the civilians she had been trying to evacuate. The tattered remains of the net floated down to the ground around her as she scowled at her surroundings.

Chat was supposed to be covering her.

And she would hardly call his half-hearted shout of warning as the net was already twisting itself around her and the civilians sufficient.

At least Exterminator’s attention was wholly focused on Chat now. Snapping her attention back to the civilians, she ushered them into the closest alleyway. “Get as far away as possible, and stay out of sight. I don’t know how long this is going to take,” she said before turning tail and sprinting back into the street.

Already, this akuma fight was taking longer than it should have, with the multitude of traps the akuma kept setting. And she was not feeling optimistic about it wrapping up anytime soon.

“Don’t you know cats were the original pest control?” Chat laughed from where he was perched on his staff in the middle of the street, laughing as he watched Exterminator struggle back to his feet. “You really think you can catch me?” Chat smirked in her direction as she ran past the shredded net, his eyes flashing.

Rude.

She skidded to a halt just in time to see Exterminator’s smirk, and the quick flick of his wrist that sent a roll of oversized white paper unfurling along the street under Chat’s perch.

Her eyes widened.

“Chat! Look out!”

Whether he was too busy gloating or just didn’t bother to heed her warning was unclear. She was already in motion, rushing toward him, but she was too late. She watched as Exterminator pulled out what would have been a comically enormous fly swatter if the circumstances weren’t so dire, and hit Chat’s staff out from under him.

Chat’s laugh cut off in a yelp as he fell toward the street.

Somehow, he managed to land on his feet.

Directly on the trap Exterminator had laid.

Chat laughed as he straightened to his full height. “That’s the best you can do?” he asked before trying to move to retrieve his baton. He yelped as his upper body moved while his feet stayed stuck, firmly in place. He had to frantically windmill his arms to keep himself from overbalancing and getting even more stuck on the giant roll of fly paper he had landed on.

“This city’s had a problem with alley cats for a while now,” Exterminator spat, “but this’ll show everyone that I’m the best Paris has to offer for pest control! Now it’s time to skin two cats with one stone…” Exterminator started to turn, and she dropped to the ground and slid behind the cover of an overturned bus. “…and then I can move onto the bug- where is she?”

She took a deep breath as the akuma’s roars echoed through the street.

This was good.

If he was busy looking for her, that would keep him busy while she freed Chat and waited for Ladybug to return.

“Camouflage.”

On silent feet, she skirted around Exterminator, giving him a wide berth as he scoured the street. By the time she made it over the Chat, he was still grunting and griping to himself as he tried to tug his feet free.

“Give me your hand,” she whispered so as not to alert Exterminator to her whereabouts.

Chat snapped his attention up to her—well, a bit to the left of her— and blinked. “What?”

“Quiet,” she shushed him, casting a glance over her shoulder. Exterminator thankfully hadn’t heard Chat over the sounds of his search. “Give me your hand.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“You’re a sitting duck right now.”

“I can handle myself just fine.”

“That’s not the point right now. Now take my hand so we can keep him busy-”

“Ladybug and I were fine before you showed up, I don’t need your help,” Chat spat. “Cataclysm!” The flypaper turned to dust under his touch as he smiled smugly in her general direction. “See?”

“Found you.”

She glanced up just in time to see Exterminator glaring at Chat- or rather, what would look like the empty air Chat was apparently talking to. She could see the akuma’s finger already squeezing around the trigger of his net-gun. Wordlessly, she shoved Chat to the side and then threw herself to the ground.

The net whizzed harmlessly over her head.

But it had been close.

Too close.

And now they were both on a timer…

“Get out of here,” she hissed to Chat, “we need to regroup.”

“You’re not the one in charge here,” Chat snapped as he sprang to his feet to dodge another net.

“Sorry, that took longer than I thought.” Ladybug’s voice crackled to life over their com pieces. “I’ll be there in a minute-”

“We’re both on timers now,” she replied as she threw her bolas. Exterminator ducked out of the way as they whizzed past, visible the moment they left her hand. But that was fine, all she needed was to buy time for-

“Get out of there and recharge. Meet me on the roof of the Musée Yves Saint Laurent. I think I have a plan.”

***

“At the very least, it will give me a chance to get up close and figure out where the akuma is hiding before- ”

“I break it with my Cataclysm, and we save the day, bugaboo.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that? And no, it’s not going to be that simple. This akuma is tricky.”

That was an understatement. It was honestly surprising Shadowmoth hadn’t ever tried to akumatize an exterminator before. An akuma based around dealing with pests like bugs? That had Shadowmoth written all over it.

“We need to get him out in the open, were he can’t lay any more traps for us.” Exterminator had proven himself to be a much better strategist that most akumas, and his proficiency with setting magically enhanced traps was a testament to the danger he posed. “We can’t let him catch us off guard again, we’ve had too many close calls,” Ladybug continued before turning to her. “Tigress, you’re going to be taking point on this. You have the best chance of leading him out into the open without getting caught. If we can get him to the Trocadero…”

As Ladybug continued with the plan, the back of her neck prickled with the feeling of eyes on her. She glanced up from the holographic map Ladybug had pulled up on her yoyo to find bitter and venomous green eyes trained on her.

***

Her lungs were still burning as she tried to catch her breath while Roarr scarfed down the last of her emergency candy. They has a couple minutes at most before they had to get back out there and rejoin the fight.

She had managed to lead Exterminator to the Trocadéro, but she had had to burn through her invisibility. Ladybug and Chat were keeping the akuma busy and trying to identify the akumatized object while she recharged, but she didn’t want to be away from the fighting any longer than she had to.. Especially given it wasn’t just the fight with the akuma… the way Chat had kept interrupting and calling her nicknames she had told him not to while she tried to strategize… the tension had been so thick, she could have sliced it with her claws.

The less time she left the two alone, the better.

“Just about ready?”

“Almost,” Roarr said through a mouthful of gummies that were sticky and partially melted from the heat. Hopefully kwamis didn’t get cavities…

As Roarr finished the last few bites of her snack, she rolled her shoulders to try and loosen up the joints and release some of the tension that had made its way into her muscles during the strategy meeting. Somehow, being chased through the streets by the akuma as she acted as live bait had been less uncomfortable that bearing witness to the brink of another spat between the two-

“Ready!”

“Roarr, stripes on.”

The magic of her transformation had barely washed over her before she was leaping up into the air, digging her claws into the brick of the back of the buildings lining the alley she had hidden in. Chips of masonry scattered and fell as she effortlessly clawed her way up to the roof.

In a matter of minutes, she was back at the Trocadéro.

Ladybug was a blur of red around the akuma as she swung and dove and rolled, never getting particularly close to the akuma. But she was certainly keeping him busy. A blur of black whizzed by the akuma, spouting more puns and flirtatious remarks in the same breath. Ladybug didn’t respond, but it was impossible to tell if that was because she was trying to concentrate or was just trying to ignore him. Or both.

Either way, it didn’t matter. It was time for her to join the fray.

She landed lightly, and then sped toward the akuma. She slide to a stop a few steps from Ladybug, swinging her bolas to deflect a net that had been heading towards her. Ladybug shot her a quick, grateful smile before springing back and out of the way and swinging up toward the top of the Palais de Challiot. A moment later, a shimmer of red and pink light burst out from the roof of the building.

“I need you two to try and buy me some time while I figure out this Lucky Charm,” Ladybug’s voice crackled to life over the com links, “Chat, you’re going to keep him busy. Tigress, he can’t catch what he can’t see. You’re going to get the akuma, it’s in his dust-sprayer.”

Of course it was.

He had used it to try and douse them all in a foul smelling powder that had made her feel woozy when they first confronted him. Thankfully, Ladybug had been able to jam it with one of her previous Lucky Charms. But it was still intact.

As she ducked under a net swung in her direction, she caught Chat glaring at her, bitter venom in his eyes.

It was the same venomous look he had given her when Ladybug had given her the job of luring Exterminator to the Trocadéro.

She shook her head. There wasn’t time to think about that now. Now when there was an akuma standing right in front of her, aiming that stupid net gun at her again.

She took off running towards the akuma, and at the last second, dropped to slide as he launched a net directly at her. The net flew harmlessly overhead as she slid past him, murmuring to activate her powers as she went past him. The second she was hidden right in front of him, she dug her claws into the stone to stop herself from sliding further and launched herself to her feet.

Exterminator howled in pain, and she turned just in time to see him clutching his nose as Chat’s staff retracted.

At least he was keeping the akuma busy. She wished he hadn’t gone straight to making the akuma angrier… but at least he was distracted.

Now all she had to do was get in close and swipe the dust-sprayer.

Moving as light as a feather, and as quietly as a tiger stalking through the forest, she crept towards the akuma. The akuma howled in frustration and then pulled his snare trap from his back before swinging it wildly. She hissed as she dropped to the ground, just managing to avoid getting beaned in the head by the erratically swinging weapon.

“Don’t you know that cat always wins the game of cat and mouse?”” Chat called as he scraped his claws along the stone, loosening dust from the ground. With a smirk, he flung it at the akuma.

And her.

She froze, a glare directed at Chat fixed on her face even though he couldn’t see it. What was he doing? Was he trying to derail the plan? But maybe the dust hadn’t settled on her. And even if it had, maybe the akuma wouldn’t see it-“

“There you are.”

The akuma’s voice made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Without looking back to see how close the akuma was, she leapt straight up in the air with all her might. Something rushed through the space she had been occupying mere seconds ago before.

She managed to twist in midair and kick off of the akuma, who had rushed forward and unwittingly placed himself right under her. With a little less grace than usual, she landed a few feet behind the akuma. Immediately, she sprang back up and darted away from where she had landed. The akuma was looking around wildly, even with his snare trap locked with Chat’s staff. As she darted to the side to look for an opening, she caught sight of Ladybug perched on top of the roof, a small red object in her hands and a look of horror on her face.

Ladybug’s voice crackled to life in the coms. “Chat! What are you doing?”

She glanced at Chat in time to see him grit his teeth and shove against his staff, breaking the lock he had been in with Exterminator and forcing the akuma back.

Exterminator stumbled back, his free arm out to the side as he planted his snare trap to try and stop himself from overbalancing.

She had a clear path to his belt, and the dust-sprayer on it.

This was it.

On near silent feet, she sprinted forward.

She reached out for the akuma.

She was so close.

“See, M’lady, it’s you and me against the world!”

What?

“Cataclysm!”

Her eyes widened in horror as Chat’s hand erupted in a dark miasma as he lunged towards the dust-sprayer.

Towards her.

She dug her feet into the ground to try and stop herself. But she had been going so fast, it wasn’t enough to stop the momentum.

Seeing Chat hurtle towards him, Exterminator dove to the side. Out of her reach.

Out of Chat’s path.

Leaving him hurtling directly toward-

She managed to throw herself into a clumsy roll at the very last second. It wasn’t enough to avoid the collision entirely though.

Time felt like it was moving through syrup.

Heavy boots knocked against her shoulders. Claws grazed across her back.

Her heart stopped.

And then beat again as she inched through the air, no searing pain running along her back.

At least it hadn’t been his Cataclysm hand as far as she could tell.

But as she and Chat tumbled over and against each other, she felt her bolas swing up with her momentum. And then suddenly they were changing direction. Like they had hit something.

Or been pushed by-

And just as suddenly, their weight was gone.

And time doubled to catch up with itself.

The impact of Chat hitting her threw her off kilter enough so that she landed heavily on her shoulder with a thud and a very uncontrolled roll before she skidded to a stop against the pavement. The impact was enough to knock the air from her lungs.

But it could have been worse.

Gingerly, she picked herself back up and turned. Just in time to see Chat dragging himself up from the ground.

And Exterminator rushing right towards him, holding what looked like an oversized can of pesticide foam at the ready.

Despite her protesting muscles, she rushed forward and shoved Chat—maybe a little harder than was necessary—out of the way of the foul smelling stream of toxic green foam.

Exterminator barrelled past them. He started to skid to a stop, but then a familiar zip of a yoyo cut the air and the akuma was suddenly windmilling his arms. And then he fell flat on his face, just short of the pile of foam.

Ladybug was a red blur as she dove off of the roof; she was beside the Exterminator in an instant, ripping the dust-sprayer from his belt brusquely. Even with her back to her, she could see the tension in every inch of Ladybug’s body. And- her hands were shaking as she clutched the dust-sprayer in one and the unused Lucky Charm in the other.

Wordlessly, in one swift and sharp movement, Ladybug slammed the dust-sprayer down as she drover her knee up, snapping it with a loud and decisive crack that split the suddenly too-quiet air.

The next thing she knew, Ladybug’s yoyo was capturing the akuma.

But she was silent as she purified it.

She dropped her invisibility as the white butterfly fluttered away.

She watched as Ladybug pulled the akuma victim to his feet and offered him some quiet words. He nodded, and then, with an apologetic look cast in her and Chat’s direct, he hastily walked off. When she turned back to look at Ladybug, she had her Lucky Charm in her hands again. And she was staring at it.

It was hard to tell from where she was standing, but it looked like an egg-timer.

Ladybug stared at it silently. Until finally, she sighed. The moment Ladybug sighed, the timer began to ring, its sound shrill against the quiet.

She watched as Ladybug took a breath, and then hurled it into the air as she cast her purification spell.

The second the ladybugs disappeared, Ladybug turned sharply to face her and Chat. Her blue eyes were burning like ice as she approached. The burning ice flickered out of Ladybug’s eyes as they darted to her. “You ok?” she asked quietly.

She nodded.

With a short nod of her own, the icy flames returned to Ladybug’s eyes as she drew level with her and Chat.

“What,” Ladybug asked, her voice so quiet it would have been impossible to hear if not for the fact that the streets were still eerily empty in the aftermath of the akuma battle, “was that?”

Ladybug wasn’t looking at her. Not even remotely. Her eyes were fixed directly on Chat. But she still took a half a step back form the weight of her voice.

Chat audibly swallowed.

“Well, I… I was only-”

“What were you thinking? Throwing that dust?”

“I was trying to blind him!”

“And risk Tigress getting caught?”

“How was I supposed to know she would be there? She was invisible!”

Awkwardly, she shifted her weight between her feet. Should she jump in? Should she say something?

She had seen plenty of their spats firsthand, from the ones that were little more than bickering, to the ones that were full on arguments, which had become more and more frequent ever since she first received the tiger miraculous. But none of them had been…

“It was the entire plan! I told you she would be in close range. You knew she would be trying to get the akuma! You knew she could have been caught in the crossfire!”

“I’m not her babysitter,” Chat spat. “Besides, she’s a big girl, she can take care of herself. You certainly seem to think so.”

It was one thing to tell Chat how she really felt. But getting involved in a fight between the two of them…

It was like watching a tennis match, the way they volleyed back and forth. Her gaze followed the trajectory of the fight with every spoken strike.

“That isn’t the point. We’re a team.”

“We’re partners!”

“And the way you just ignored the plan and jumped in the first chance you got? That’s what partners do?”

“I was taking initiative. I was doing my job.”

“You were supposed to distract him!”

“What? So she could do my job?” He flung his arm to gesture at her, almost hitting her given the proximity.

Maybe she wouldn’t have a choice on getting involved… as appealing as standing and watching them argue was-

Before she could even so much as open her mouth, Chat continued. “I’m your partner. It’s been us from the start! And then suddenly you’re bringing in other people-”

“We need the help!”

“And you changed when you became the Guardian-”

“I never asked to be-”

“You gave out another miraculous without asking me and you’re letting her keep one!” He gestured at her again.

“We- I needed help!”

“No you didn’t! You have me!”

“No, I didn’t!”

Chat stumbled back at Ladybugs words. Both of their chests were heaving, and their faces were the same scarlet as Ladybug’s suit. Tears glimmered at the corners of Ladybug’s eyes. She stepped forward, but before she could place herself between the two, before she could reach out to comfort Ladybug, Ladybug broke the silence.

“I didn’t have you.”

Ladybug’s quiet, broken voice took her back to her room on the Liberty. Back to her friend, sitting beside her on her bed, spilling tears over too many responsibilities for one person to handle.

“Oh, Bugaboo,” Chat crooned, his furious face instantly softening, “of course you did. I’ll always be by your side, M’lady.”

Ladybug’s eyes darted back up from the ground to Chat.

“Frozer.”

Chat’s brows furrowed. “What-”

“Glaciator.”

With each name, Ladybug took a step forward.

“Oblivio. Dark Cupid-”

“M’lady, what are you talking about?”

“All the akumas where you’ve been more interested in goofing off or flirting. That, or having a snit because you were mad I don’t feel the same way.”

“I don’t-”

“I needed help.”

“We beat all of those akumas!”

“Barely! And always by the seat of our pants, because you never listen to me.”

“I listen!”

Ladybug let out an incredulous half-laugh before she drew herself up to her full height. She was still more that half a head shorter than Chat, but somehow, she didn’t seem to be.

“Like you listened tonight?” Ladybug’s voice was quiet steel.

“I- I- I…” she could see Chat floundering for something to say. Some way out of the grave he had dug for himself. “I did follow the plan!” She had to hold back a snort. Ladybug’s face morphed to pure incredulity. “I let her get the akuma to the Trocadéro! I was distracting it!”

“And then you jumped in anyways when Tigress had an opening!”

“I was being a hero!”

“You could have hurt her.” Technically, he had. The suit protected her, but the fall had still hurt. “You could have Cataclysmed her!”

“If she hadn’t been there to begin with this wouldn’t have happened!” Wildly, he turned to glare at her. “This was your fault! You told me to step up! If you hadn’t-”

“Chat! Stop. It.”

“But Bugaboo, she told me to- if she hadn’t interfered-”

“Don’t ever talk to her that way.” Ladybug’s voice was quiet and even. And deadly. “Don’t ever talk about her like that.”

“Bugaboo-”

“Don’t. Call. Me. That.”

“But-”

“You knew the plan.” Ladybug took a step toward Chat, the sheer weight of her voice was enough to silence him. “You chose to do your own thing.” Chat shrank back as Ladybug took another step. His face was stark white against the black of his mask, and it looked like the carpet had just been ripped out from under him. “You chose not to be part of the team.” She hissed, jabbing a finger into his chest.

Ladybug looked like she wanted to say more, but she was interrupted by another beep from her earrings.

“I’ll find you later Tigress,” she said, turning away from Chat curtly. Her voice was still still sharp, but it obviously wasn’t directed at her. And then with a flick of her wrist and the familiar zip of her yoyo, she was gone in a red and black blur.

Heavy silence hung in the air. Everything was still; there was no breeze, no rush of traffics or people going about their evening. There wasn’t even the sound of any pigeons.

It was like the world was holding its breath.

Chat cast her an icy glare. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, she turned on her heel and darted into the shadows of the Palais de Challiot.

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