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everdreamofme · 3 days

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it's a boy, girl thing

Chapter 3

mattheo riddle x reader

Making her way through the halls of Hogwarts to Mattheo's classes, Y/N couldn't help but notice the reactions of her peers. They seemed to move instantly out of his path, shooting nervous glances as 'he' passed them by, almost scared of what he would do. Mattheo had always been a torment; he and his friends didn't seem to let up for anyone in the halls, and one could only wonder what suffering they inflicted within the walls of their common room.

The revelation of who exactly Mattheo's father was came at the end of the previous school year. Up until that moment, he was just another Slytherin bad boy who was somehow related to the Malfoys - Y/N had always assumed they were cousins or such; to be honest, she was never really interested. Now, the whole school was terrified he would somehow follow in his father's footsteps. But if Dumbledore trusted him enough to let him continue to be a student here, then there was no need for the student body to worry, right?

Thankfully, Y/N and Mattheo shared the majority of the same classes and had only had to endure double potions class so far, meaning they could keep an eye on each other. Luckily, they had a single lesson of charms together next.

Y/N flopped onto the charms desk and let out a huff. Just get through the day, and you'll be fine. Feeling someone occupy the seat next to her, she turned to find her own frame, throwing her school bag onto the floor. She had planned to avoid Mattheo today, opting to spend her study periods and lunch time holed up in the library.

'What are you doing?' She hissed at him. 'We can't sit next to each other - people will think something's wrong!'

'Relax.' Mattheo rolled his eyes as Y/N stared at him, appalled. 'Your seat was already taken, had to find another.' He explained as he nodded towards the front of the classroom. Her usual seat next to Cho Chang was currently occupied by Harry Potter, and they were happily chatting away.

'Oh.'

'Jeez, take the stick out of your ass, will you?'

Y/N gasped. 'I do not have a stick up my ass!'

'Then quit acting like it!' Mattheo scoffed back.

'You know, you think you're so smart-'

'Me think I'm smart? You're the one who corrects people every sentence!'

'Well, if people used the correct grammar, then I wouldn't need-'

'Miss Y/L/N, Mr Riddle.' Professor Flitwick cleared his throat. 'Do I have your attention?'

Y/N immediately turned from the argument to the front of the class and straightened her back. Mattheo simply rolled his eyes and slouched in his chair.

'Of course! Apologies, Professor.' Flitwick's brows furrowed as 'Mattheo' answered attentively and 'Y/N' lounged in her seat, looking bored. The lesson continued as normal from there, with Y/N taking extremely detailed notes and Mattheo staring uninterestedly at Professor Flitwick, both ignoring each other.

As the Hogwarts bells rang to signal the end of the lesson, Y/N began to pack her parchment away into Mattheo's bag when she felt a hand clamping on her shoulder.

'Hope you've been practicing those swings Malfoy instructed; otherwise, we're both dead meat.' Turning in her seat, she found Theodore Nott waiting behind her with his own bag ready to go. Letting out a nervous chuckle, she nodded.

'Y-yeah... you bet!'

Theo's brow quirked as she made no move to stand from her table, staring wide-eyed at the boy before her. 'Okay, well, are you coming, then?'

'Uh, can I just borrow Mattheo for a moment, Theo?' Mattheo interjected, peeping over the shoulder of the 'boy' in front of him. Theo nodded and backed away slowly, shooting a confused glance at the pair before disappearing outside of the classroom.

Y/N rounded on Mattheo with panic in her eyes. 'Swings?!'

'Fuck! I forgot about quidditch practice!' He exclaimed, smacking his hand against the table.

'Riddle, what do I do?! I can't play quidditch!' She hissed.

'You're going to fucking have to!'

'I think I'm about to throw up...' She muttered after a moment. Looking up, Mattheo could see the panic across his face and he huffed.

'Alright, fine. I can come and-'

'Oh, no you don't! You have a herbology lesson!'

Mattheo screwed his face up in disgust. 'Fucking herbology?'

'Yes!'

'I'll just skip herbology.'

'No, you will not!' Y/N gasped. 'You are me, remember? Don't you dare go tarnishing my studies!'

'Fucking hell, you're so dramatic.' He rolled his eyes as she narrowed hers, jabbing a finger at his chest.

'Don't start with me, Riddle. You get to my herbology class on time, you take well-written and detailed notes, and you pass them to me immediately afterwards. Understood?'

Mattheo looked almost bored at the intimidation tactic. 'Listen here, princess; don't fuck up my quidditch practice, and I won't fuck up your herbology lesson, deal?'

'Deal.' Y/N muttered. Making their way out of the now empty charms classroom, Y/N grabbed Mattheo's arm as they reached the corridor to part ways.

'Wait! What position do you play in quidditch?'

Mattheo stared blankly back at her. 'Beater.' He said before leaving through the door.

Hiding behind a bush, Y/N waited for the Slytherin quidditch team to exit the changing rooms before making her way in. Quickly changing into some quidditch training gear, she grabbed the bat from Mattheo's locker and took a deep breath.

Get it together, Y/L/N. You can do this.

As she made her way outside, she could spot Blaise, Enzo, Adrian, and Cassius doing some flying drills in the air above. Draco and Theo stood talking near a trunk on the floor in the middle of the quidditch pitch.

'There he is!'

'Oi, where the fuck have you been?' Malfoy demanded, storming over to him as Theo crossed his arms behind the blonde boy.

'S-sorry, I got caught up after charms.' Y/N stuttered out, already feeling nervous. Malfoy merely quirked a brow before shaking his head.

'Whatever. I want you and Nott to practice those hard swings today; we need to beat those Gryffindor bastards this weekend.'

'Right.' Y/N nodded curtly and stared at Draco. When the blonde boy pulled a confused face and mounted his broom, Y/N knew there were no further instructions to be heard.

'I'll get them then, shall I?' She heard Theo ask from behind her. Turning around, she saw Theo had made his way over to the trunk in the field and began to unbuckle the clasps. Releasing the practice snitch, she watched as Draco began to speed around the pitch after it.

'Matt, you ready?' When Y/N didn't answer, still engrossed in watching the other players zoom about above her, Theo shouted again. 'Mattheo!'

'Wha-what? Oh, yes! I'm ready!' She responded, giving the bat a small wave for good measure.

Theo furrowed his brows. 'Are you going to mount your broom, then?'

Looking down at the fancy broom on the ground, Y/N gulped. 'I thought, maybe... since we're trying new swings and all... maybe we could practice on-on the ground today? Maybe?'

Hopefully that makes some sense... She thought to herself.

'Are you alright?' Theo asked, standing from his crouching position near the trunk. She forced a smile and a nod, confusing the boy in front of her further.

'Uh, okay... We can practice grounded. You can explain that one to Draco later.'

Theo released the two aggressive balls from their buckles, and they instantly flew upwards. Theo impressively swung his bat and hit one far across the quidditch field as Y/N gaped in awe, unaware of the bludger hurling towards her. Noticing with a split second to spare, she let out a squeak and dove to the ground.

'Matt, what the hell are you doing?' Theo shouted, beginning to make his way over to where Y/N was. Standing abruptly, she straightened the quidditch uniform, brushing off pieces of grass.

'I, uh, noticed the ball too late.'

'That's what your bat's for—you do know that, right? Being on the team for over a year?'

Y/N didn't have time to respond. Instead, she stared with wide eyes as the same bludger from before came flying back towards her, hitting her square in the stomach and completely winding her. Falling to all fours, she coughed and spluttered as she tried to catch her breath, her stomach in absolute agony.

'What the fuck!' She had heard someone shout. Theo had his wand out in an instant, casting 'arresto momentum' on the balls and making his way over to Y/N.

'What the fuck are you doing?!' Y/N spotted another pair of boots stomping into her view.

Great, Malfoy.

'Why didn't you use your fucking bat?!' He seethed. Y/N couldn't answer, still wheezing for breath.

'Malfoy, take it easy-' Theo began before Draco interrupted, fuming about how if the team wasn't in top shape by the weekend, then they had no chance of beating the Gryffindors, and if that was to be the case, they should just give up now.

Once some oxygen had returned to her lungs, she stood and faced Draco, who looked pissed. Oh, Rowena, save me.

'What the bloody hell are you playing at Mattheo?!'

'Malfoy, it's fine; it's just quidditch. Don't you have any other aspirations in life you ought to be focusing on, rather than a silly wizarding sport?' At this, Theo and Draco shared a strange glance as Blaise, Enzo, Adrian, and Cassius landed their brooms near.

'What's wrong?' Enzo shouted over.

'He's lost the fucking plot,' Draco mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face.

'Alright,' Blaise interjected, clapping his hands together. 'How about we practice some of those fitness routines you planned out last week? Yeah, Draco?' Malfoy seemed satisfied with Blaise's attempt to diffuse the situation and conjured the training board, beginning to explain the training.

When Draco finally announced that practice was over and the team could hit the showers, Y/N thought she might actually kiss him. Practice had gone terribly; she had been knocked over, she had slipped in the mud when doing laps, and she wouldn't even begin to tell you how embarrassed she had been when Draco had instructed them to do pull-ups on their brooms.

Entering the changing rooms, she averted her gaze to the ceiling so as not to see more than she bargained for with the Slytherin quidditch team, until someone clicked their fingers in front of her face, bringing her attention towards them.

'What the fuck were you doing out there, Mattheo? You played like a damn muggle!' Draco seethed.

'I-I'm sorry, I'm feeling a little peaky.'

Draco blinked back at her. 'Peaky?'

'Yeah, it means off-colour,' She explained.

'I know what peaky means!' He shouted, making Adrian grimace in the background.

'Now you listen here, and you listen good. You know the importance of winning this weekend's match, so you'd better get your shit together before then because, Salazar, help me; if you don't, you'll be hearing about the game from the fucking hospital wing!' Y/N rapidly blinked the tears forming in her waterline away as Draco stomped into the showers.

Do not let these boys see you cry, especially not in Riddle's body; he will kill me!

'Don't worry, dude,' Someone patted her on the shoulder, 'You know what he gets like when we play against Potter; don't take it personal.'

Turning, she came face to face with a very naked Blaise. Sucking in a breath, her eyes shot back to the ceiling as he continued to talk to her. 'You just hit a slump today, no biggie. Probably still feeling a little off from last night's headache, right? I am surprised you didn't argue back with Draco, though. Good for you for not lashing out this time.'

Y/N managed to force out a grin when Blaise patted her on the back once more and made way for the showers. She huffed, letting her head hit the lockers.

I have never been happier for the school day to come to an end.

After showering (ew!) and changing clothes, Y/N made her way to dinner. As she was about to enter the great hall, she felt someone pull her back by her arm.

'Hey! I heard about quidditch practice.' Mattheo said, a look of annoyance across her features.

'Yeah, that game is really rough! I'm covered in bruises.'

'I don't care about your bruises!'

'Well, you don't have to be so rud—oh my gosh!'

Mattheo's brows furrowed in confusion. 'What?'

'Sh!' She hissed.

'No, what's the problem?'

'Cormac is heading this way!' She whispered to Mattheo, trying to hide her face behind her hand.

'Okay, and? Wait, don't tell me you've got a crush on fucking McLaggen.' Mattheo pulled a face as the boy approached.

'Talk to him.' She whispered.

'No.' He crossed his arms as he looked the Gryffindor boy up and down.

'Be nice!'

'No!'

'Do it or I'll quit the Quidditch team.' She hissed back at him.

'Y/N, hi. How are you today?' Cormac said, reaching the two with a bright smile.

'Alright.' Mattheo shurgged, staring up at the boy.

'Oh, sorry. Am I interrupting something?' He asked, his eyes shooting at who he thought was Mattheo.

'Not at all!' Y/N answered. 'I was just asking Y/N here if I could have some help with school work, considering she is one of the brightest witches in our year.'

'That she is,' Cormac laughed, looking back at the girl before him. 'Can I have a quick word, Y/N?'

'Of course you can! Please, excuse me.' Y/N said, backing away from the two, mouthing a 'be nice' to Mattheo behind Cormac's back and making him roll his eyes.

'What do you want?' Mattheo asked, crossing his arms.

'Uh, right. I was just wondering, did you get a chance to look over that herbology essay for me?' He asked, taking a step closer to Mattheo. Mattheo pulled a face and took a step back from the boy.

'What essay?'

'You know, the one you said you would be able to give me a hand with? It's just, it's due pretty soon, so I kind of need it...' He trailed off, staring at the girl before him, who frowned. 'Have... have you managed to-'

'Not yet.' Mattheo cut the boy off and turned swiftly on his heel, making his way into the great hall and leaving the Gryffindor boy confused in the hallway.

What a dick.

As Mattheo swung the door open, ready to finally devour some food, his view was immediately obstructed by a Slytherin tie. Rolling his eyes, he looked up at the figure before him.

'Yes?'

'What did Cormac say?' Y/N asked in a whisper.

'He was just going on about some herbology essay.' This made Y/N's eyes widen.

'Oh my gosh, his assignment! I completely forgot about it!' She gasped, snatching her bag from Mattheo's shoulder and beginning to rummage through the contents.

Mattheo furrowed his brows as he grabbed her wrist to stop her frantic searching. 'Hang on—you didn't agree to do his fucking homework, did you?'

'I-I just offered him some help; he's always so busy with Quidditch-'

'Busy with Quidditch?' He repeated. 'He's a bloody reserve!'

'Yeah... But if I helped with his assignments, then he would have way more time to put into practicing!' She defended, making Mattheo pull a face again.

'Seriously?'

'Stop judging me, Riddle!' Y/N snapped. 'Eat your dinner, then head straight back to my dorm; you better pray that we wake up in our own bodies tomorrow morning!' That was the last Mattheo saw of her as she stormed away that fine Tuesday evening.

i actually hate this so chapter much omg

taglist;

@xxrougefangxx @lovelyygirl8 @mayamonroem @bxcndd @dracoslovergirl @helendeath

#harry potter #harry potter universe #slytherin #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #fanfic #mattheo riddle fic #matteo riddle #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle

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freya-fallen · 2 days

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Little Dove 5/?

You're Pro Hero Hawks' little sister. Dabi finds out and everything devolves from there.

HawksxReaderxDabi

TW: none for this chapter, but future parts may include, but are not limited to, noncon, dubcon, drugging, forced incest, yandere hawks, yandere dabi, coercion, lying, manipulation, grooming (of an 18 year old character), obsession, gaslighting...

Part 1 Part 6

Keigo is still home when you wake up, a rare occurrence given his hours. You stare down at your phone to read through a few texts from Dabi and look up when you hear an abrupt sound. Your brother is making scrambled eggs wearing your frilly apron and a pair of boxers. You can’t help but giggle at the sight of him whistling a little flourish while he flips the spatula through the air.

“‘Morning, Dove. Sleep well?”

You blush, remembering that you fell asleep while Keigo was preening your wings. You’d woken, tangled in sheets and diagonal across the mattress. “Did I steal the covers last night?”

He grins that heartbreaking grin of his that comes so naturally when he’s around you. “Only a little. I kept plenty warm, considering you were half on top of me.

“I’m sorry.”

He bats away the apology. “If it bothered me, we’d have separate beds. You’ve always been clingy in your sleep.”

To be fair, so is he. It’s a remnant of your childhood, when you were each other’s only real family. You still are, but now you have a stable life to go along with your relationship.

There was a time Keigo left. It was sometime after your father was finally arrested, when your memories become a blur for a while. You know you were hungry and cold and sad. Your mother was annoyed at your complaints, but there was nothing she could do about them. She yelled at Keigo, called him useless, and he took off.

You think you saw him once after that, then nothing.

For a little while, you stayed alone with your mother. She rarely helped you with clothes or food or anything, really, so you quickly became a mess of a child. By the time the HPSC dropped in to pluck you from Tomie’s grasp, you were in such deplorable state that Keigo became furious when you saw him.

It was in the penthouse, your now-home. He’d fought with the commission to get a place for you, and a separate one for your mother. When you asked why, he always shrugged and muttered something about everyone being happier this way.

Keigo had run across the bare floor and dropped to his knees to look at you. “Did mom hurt you?” His hands were warm on your shoulders, his eyes boring into your own. You shook your head. “Did she feed you?” he asked next, to which you shrugged. Keigo sighed, glanced up at an adult and said, “Go get her something to eat.”

It was the first time you ever heard Keigo give a command.

Your brother guides you to the table, snapping you from your memories. He has a full plate and orange juice all laid out.

“Thank you, Keigo.”

He beams. “You’re welcome.” He has made himself a plate with more food than yours. He spends all day most days out on patrol and apparently flying takes a lot of energy, so he keeps fueled. You’ve always marveled at how much he can scarf down per meal.

Your phone buzzes and he frowns at it. “Just a friend from school,” you explain, though you have the phone upside down, so it’s not like you can see the screen. He hums in response.

“Do you have the day off?” Hope lays thick in your voice. You’d promised to see Dabi later, but he’d understand that Keigo is home.

He shakes his head. “No, I just had a little time this morning. Sorry, Dove. I know I owe you some one-on-one time, but things are hectic at work right now.”

You know what that’s code for. “The commission has you on a special mission, huh?” You hate when this happens. They suck the life out of your brother, promising him the moon for one more little favor. It never ends; you know they’ve sent him to do things he shouldn’t, things he won’t talk about to anyone, but especially you. He could never ruin your image of him; it would break him.

You tell him you’ll love him anyway, but he just shakes his and smiles sadly.

“Yeah. It’s a really important one, though. It might stop a war.”

“Does it have to do with that guy who fought All Might?” you ask. He’s behind bars, but maybe he has some sort of team who can take over his evil plans.

Keigo bites his lip. “You know I can’t tell you anything about it.”

“Yeah, yeah, secret squirrel stuff.” You raise a hand in defeat. “I know.”

“The secretest.” He puts your plates in the dishwasher after you’ve both cleared them, then pulls you into his arms for a hug. “I told them I’m taking a break after this one. I need it. We’ve all been working our asses off since All Might retired, but the flame man and I most of all.”

His heart is a steady beat against your ear. You wrap your arms around your brother and take in how much stronger he is than you. Even without him feathers, he could throw you over his shoulder. He takes his work seriously, despite his carefree appearance. You squeeze him, aware of how strong some villains are and how small your brother is compared to some. “You promise?”

Keigo rubs your back. “I promise. They won’t get anything outta me for at least a month.”

“A month?” The idea thrills you; you’ve never gotten to spend that much time free with him.

“Yep, just you and me. We can do anything, go anywhere.”

You grin up at him. “I can’t wait.”

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#darkfic #yandere #mha #hawks #my hero academia #yandere dabi #dabi #dabi x reader #yandere hawks #hawks x reader #smut #dark fic #patreon #fanfic #dabi my hero academia #reader fic

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patentedsun · 9 hours

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You guys I'm actually crying over chapter 204.5 (which is technically an ad for a certain company we're all boycotting btw) but ignoring the actual ad THE STORYLINE WAS SO??? GOOD???? the Natsu characterization in this was INCREDIBLE (be prepared for intense 100yq hatred) and it portrayed exactly why I fell in love with nalu in the first place....

Summary and analysis below (doesn't incl all the pages btw!!)

We start off with Lucy finding Natsu and Happy at her place, as always.

this is followed by him being like "do you think we'll peek or something" which... 100yq natsu would have... that IMPOSTER...

Anyways while she's taking a bath, Natsu and Happy are browsing around Lucy's room and find a book that stands out. (Btw right next to this book is her diary, 100yq natsu would've gone straight for that). However they end up accidentally destroying it and start panicking. They ask Lucy if they can "borrow it" and Lucy panics at first, saying it's precious and not to touch it, but relents when they say they found it "interesting".

fast forward, we see them worn out after trying and failing to find a replacement copy. ONCE AGAIN, they're doing this because it's something precious to LUCY. Not because they care about reading, or because the book has any value to them, but because they understand it's important to HER. Natsu (and Happy) going the extra mile for things that are important to Lucy is SUCH AN IMPORTANT PART of their entire dynamic.

continuing, Lucy walks into the guild and asks how they're finding the book, they say it's interesting. Lucy gets SUPER EXCITED ABOUT THIS and starts talking non stop ab the book. Happy asks her why this book is so important to her and...

Y I K E S.

So yeah, they ultimately decide that lying isn't it and they should apologize upfront.

this is so beautiful to me, idk like the imagery of them bowing so sincerely is so.... and like wow MASHIMA seems like natsu IS capable of acknowledging his own wrongdoings and offering genuine apologies. I'm not even talking ab the whole post tartaros situation no, I'm talking about fucking 100yq, where natsu actually physically hurts Lucy and doesn't apologize for it (AND IN FACT ITS PLAYED FOR A GAG)(IMPOSTER!!! NOT MY NATSU!!!)

Soooo Lucy doesn't take it well and runs away.

the fact that they didn't stop their search here. the fact that they EXPANDED it to other towns to try and find her the book THIS IS JUST <3333

Anyways, Lucy returns and reveals dozens of copies of the book...

My heart actually broke for her here because as someone who ig creates stuff as well, it really can be painful to have no audience interaction. And to have a book you wrote bomb like that...ouch... and of course she would've been excited, her best friends told her they found it interesting!!! my HEART. OUCH. and the sheer guilt on Natsu and Happy's faces here 😭 Once again, 100yq would've played this off for a gag...

And they all start bawling (and the ad comes in so I will stop there) but YEAH. THIS WAS SO BEAUTIFUL??? The way she's regretful too, the way they're still trying to apologize and make her feel better I'm :(. This is what makes nalu work and it feels like mashima is forgetting that ab his own work... they're both genuinely good and kind to each other... like not to get sidetracked but there has always been goofy fanservice moments but there were also so many wonderful, emotional, complex scenes with them with depth and maturity and I just feel like that's lacking now. So reading this was like getting punched in the face srsly because wow... THIS is the natsu I know and love ugh .....

#fairy tail #natsu dragneel #natsu #lucy heartfilia #nalu #natsu appreciation #pro nalu #lucy heartfilia appreciation #seriously i got so emotional over this #100yq rant #anti 100yq

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loganlermanstanaccount · 11 months

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Show me where it hurts (part 1)

Miguel O'Hara x spiderwoman!reader

(AO3 Mirror), Part 2, Main Masterlist

summary: Miguel's acting weird, and you make it your mission to find out exactly what's going on.

warnings: no warnings for this chap, pg-13, swearing and canon level violence. smut next chapter xoxo

a/n: this is a combination of 2 asks and this post I saw on here a while ago: flirty/ snarky fem reader, Miguel during a ""rut"" (I don't know if it counts as a rut really, but its to do with his animal instincts/DNA) and Lyla playing matchmaker. I had so much fun writing this, enjoy :D

(i wrote this pre seeing spiderverse 2, so i think characterisation is a little off, esp for Lyla, apologies! I'll fix it in my upcoming fics)

edit: I use the term "bichita" which I have been informed can be read not as I intended in Spanish. I'm not a native speaker so I want to apologise in advance. I'm doing more research for my future fics and leaving this up as a testament to my stupidity. Spanish speakers, feel free to correct me / clown my ass in the comments. My bad guys :(

wc: 3.6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You think Miguel is avoiding you.

One of your closest friends, giving you the runaround for months, it seems. Calling the two of you close friends is a little extreme, sure. You've only known O'Hara for two years, and been in love with him for slightly less than that, thank you very much. And yes, he refuses to call you by anything but your last name. And the last time you saw him he wouldn't so much as look at you, but that was besides the point.

"..the point," You tell Lyla, in between exasperated bites of cereal, "... is that aren't elite forces of spiderpeople supposed to, you know, have some spiderpeople kick ass once in a while? And where exactly is our fearless leader? I haven't seen O'Hara's scary ass in weeks, and I'm starting to miss it."

She gives you a look, one that says this isn't what I'm programmed for , but you pointedly ignore it.

"His ass, by the way." You clarify. "I very specifically miss his ass. Remind me to get his routine. I know girls that would kill for…"

"How the fuck did you get in here?" A voice croaks. You turn behind you and see Miguel, not in his suit, but wrapped up in a blanket like he's just woken up. And he looks rough, like a train ran him over on the way here: puffy eyes, splotchy skin, tension kneaded into his brow.

"Wow." Your spoon drops into the milk. "You look like shit.."

He furrows his brow even deeper, if that was possible. " Mierda. You shouldn't be here."

"This isn't quite the welcome party I was expecting, man. I'm the only one to actually turn up to one of your meetings, and this is what I get?"

"I thought I told Lyla to cancel," He mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Cancel? Since when do you miss a chance to talk about rules and protocol?"

"I don't have time for this-"

"-and I'm not leaving without a proper explanation. Is everything okay?"

"It's actually way worse now you're here." He deadpans.

"Haha ." You turn to Lyla. "You drop everything to travel halfway across the multiverse and this asshole won't even say thanks."

"Thanks, but this asshole needs you to leave. Now."

This is the most he's spoken to you in forever, and you hate that you like it. You just want his attention, however it comes. If that means dragging this out so maybe he acknowledges you, touches you, looks at you - then so be it. Squinting, you get closer to him. You scan his face for anything to latch onto. You put a hand on his shoulder, still searching.

"You sure you're alright? You know you can tell me if-"

"Si, si." He grits his teeth, looking away. "M'just fine. I'll explain…. later."

"...because I'm your right hand man?" You grin, poking at his brow. "Stop frowning so much Miguel, you're gonna ruin that pretty face of yours."

He flushes, nervous, and swats you away. "-what? N-No. You're not my right hand man and I like my face just the way it is. Now, leave. "

Making your way to the door, you tap your nose teasingly. "You know where to find me!"

When the door closes with a click, you make your way down the corridor, and stop in your tracks when you hear it. It's muffled, but with the strain of your supersenses you can make out Miguel's voice just beyond the wall.

"I just…. don't want her to see me like this… Lyla, it's not happening… I can't tell her…." Tell her what, exactly?

Resolutely, you make up your mind. Miguel O'Hara's got a secret. And before you leave for home, you're gonna do everything in your God given power to wear him down and find out.

~~~

Despite his insistence otherwise, you liked to think of yourself as O'Hara's right hand man - and most of the other spiderpeople thought so too. You were one of the very first he recruited, after crash landing onto your earth like a spiderman-shaped meteor; the two of you were inseparable. Miguel was stubborn and headstrong and thought he was right all the time. Infuriatingly, he was, but that didn't stop you from telling him to get his head out of his own ass when his ego grew too big.

He was different around you, you think. Softer, sometimes. Harsher, other times. He told you what you needed to hear whether you wanted to or not; the result of mutual respect and agonising persistence. Slowly, you had chipped away his hard exterior; the one he built because he thought he needed to push people away. In that regard, you were similar, but this need manifested in you like a weed - an awful, awful compulsion to joke and laugh at your own expense, to keep others at an arm's length. You had spent your whole life picking and pruning away at yourself, looking for perfection. Even after all this, multiverse-hopping and fighting alongside people who were the closest things you had to friends , it wasn't enough. There was still something missing.

Ironically, Miguel had told you something similar the one of the last times you had spoken. You had fucked up a mission, well and truly. In the aftermath, all you can remember is coming back to base, limping on Jessica's arm.

"She's hurt!" She cries out. Lyla materialises and leads you both to the med bay, inspecting any visible wounds. There's a deep laceration, sticky with blood, at the base of your stomach. You shift onto the bed and hiss with pain.

Miguel is quick to follow, face twisted with confusion, pain, sadness. Even in your haze, you feel the tension radiating off of him as he drags over a cart of supplies.

"What happened?" He strains.

"I don't even… it happened so fast. We got ambushed, and all of a sudden I'm on the ground. I wasn't thinking straight and… " She sobs. "...she jumped in front of me. God, she saved my life-"

"-wasn't your fault, Jess." You croak, trying to sit up. "And I'm fine. Just need to walk it off…"

"Sit, bichita," His nickname makes you frown, despite yourself, and you settle back down. "Lyla, what's the damage?"

Your vision goes spotty, and Lyla's voice barely registers. All you can feel is searing pain in your side, but Miguel is warm, oh so warm. You clutch his arms, and force him to look you in the eye.

"M'ready, Miguel." He nods weakly, but you don't think he understands. "I mean it . I can lead, j-just need another chance and I won't let you down… Jess, tell him that I can-"

"It's okay. I believe you. You just need to relax for me, hmm?" He clutches at your hand, tight, and it's like you're the only two people in the world. "You did good. I promise."

Faintly, you nod. You feel a pinch at your arm, and Jessica's there, with an empty vial of something in her hands. The pain washes over you, and you fight to keep your eyes open. In those last few moments of light, you swear you feel a shaky kiss pressed to your temple.

"Sleep, mi bichito amoroso. Sleep."

When you come to, you're still in the medbay, moonlight streaming through. Well, artificial moonlight. Time worked a little differently here, something Miguel explained to you a while ago - God knows what about dilation and quantum interference. It makes you smile now, remembering his frustration as he tried to explain to no avail. You were the only spiderman this side of the multiverse without a degree in quantum tech, you had said with a lopsided smile.

You move to sit, and pain shoots up your side. Groaning, you push through it, determined to get out of this bed and find the others. As if on cue, Miguel walks in, almost leaping towards you.

"You should… mierda ! You should be resting in bed."

You pout as you stumble into his chest. He hooks an arm around you and leads you back. You clamber in, sighing. "M'fine, O'Hara."

"Your guts were halfway out of your body less than 24 hours ago. So stay put, or you might give me another heart attack."

You scoff, incredulous. "You were worried?"

He shrugs. " 'Course I was."

"Why? You know I'm practically indestructible." You give him a shit eating grin, and poke the frown appearing at his brow. He doesn't bat you away like he usually does.

"Famous last words, bichita." He sighs. You can't speak a lick of Spanish, but you know he only calls you that word when you've frustrated him to his limit. So you take it as a win, for now.

He drops into the chair next to you. "How are you feeling?"

"Just peachy, dollface." You wink, and he doesn't so much as groan.

"I'm being serious. You went through something pretty traumatic…"

"You want me to tell you it hurts, so, so bad, daddy? " You pout and flutter your eyelashes mockingly. Miguel shifts in his seat, unable to make eye contact.

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean, O'Hara? I feel fine. And in a couple of days, I'll feel even better, and I'll be up and about. I can finish what we started and-"

"-no, absolutely not." He frowns. "A couple of days? I'm sending you home-"

"You can't do that! On whose fucking authority?"

"On the authority of you almost fucking died ! Keeping you safe is our priority right now-"

"God, is this my punishment? This is a low blow, O'Hara. You know how hard I've worked for this: months of surveillance and intel a-and I did everything by the book, just like you told me to." You croak. "I fucked up . I know that, and I feel terrible. Give me a chance to make things right; that's all I'm asking. I can do it, I know it. "

He looks at you for a moment, something heavy in his expression. His face contorted, he strips you down to the bone with just his gaze. His voice is so quiet, you almost miss it.

"....you're still trying to prove yourself, aren't you?"

Honestly, it catches you off guard. You don't even know what the fuck that means, let alone why he said it.

"I don't… I d-don't…?"

"They all love you. Respect you. More than me I think, sometimes." He chuckles at that. "You're good at what you do. The best . What else are you trying to prove? What else do you need ?"

Your throat goes dry. You couldn't speak if you wanted to.

"I'm not punishing you. You made a mistake, but you don't need to be crucified for it. I just want to keep you safe. I can't… we can't lose you."

"Miguel-"

"-this isn't a discussion. And I'm not trying to argue, although I know how much you like to argue." He inches closer, cupping your face gently. You try to move away, blinking back tears. But his hands are steady and he strokes your jaw with so much tenderness you think you hear your heart break. He's pretty, so pretty. You don't deserve him, you think. "There'll be time to fight, bichita. Rest. That's your mission right now."

"C-can't sleep." You breathe. "It hurts."

Miguel pauses, head tilted like he's thinking. He taps your shoulder. "Scoot over."

You do as he says, and he slips into the bed with you. It's a tight fit, but he manages, placing you on his chest with an arm gently around your shoulders. You bury your face in his hoodie, sniffling and hoping he doesn't notice you choking back sobs. Absentmindedly, he settles into a rhythm, gentle breathing and playing with your hair, soothing you softly. He pretends he can't hear the tears.

"M'gonna stay here until you're asleep. For as long as you need."

You nod, unable to speak for fear of breaking down.

~~~

The days after felt like a blur. You woke up to Miguel gone, and an ache in your heart. Jess visits as much as she can, and Ben calls you a couple times, to see if you're okay. Peter B brings Mayday, and she clambers all over your bed, bringing some life into the room. Miguel doesn't visit per se - you hear whispers of him, Lyla visiting in his stead for comprehensive status updates. Once, you wake up in the night to see him on the adjacent chair, head lolling in deep sleep. He looks peaceful, calm - one of the first times you haven't seen his brow furrowed with worry. Of course, he's gone by the morning.

The very last time you saw him, he opened the portal home. It was weird, after everything, but if Miguel felt the same you wouldn't know. Talking at a thousand miles a minute, he alternates between assuring you they'll be fine without you and situation reports from spider people all across the multiverse. Things you'd missed whilst bedbound, asking for advice before you left. He trusted your judgement and the thought warmed your heart, almost making you forget that he completely brushed past the previous nights before.

You still remember the last thing he had said to you, which would've been weeks ago, now.

"...and if you need anything, and I mean anything, you call me directly. Not Jess, not Ben, and certainly not Peter B. Call me, and I'll answer, I promise. You need help, you need advice, you just need someone to talk to, then-"

"-I call you. I get it, O'Hara. Will do." He opens the portal, watching as you walk towards it. He can't take his eyes off of you, even though you can't see him. At the last moment you turn, and run towards him. You almost knock him over with a hug. Burying his head in the crook of your shoulder, he hugs you back, ever careful of your injury. Separating, your smile almost knocks him over again. Weakly, he smiles back as you head through the portal, back home.

You're left with that feeling, of his arms around your body - warm, so warm - as you putter about by the switchboard. After careful deliberation (you were really, really bored ) you'd taken to manage the Multi Modal Multiversal Switchboard - as aptly named by Miguel. Everyone else called it the Big Red Phone of course, but he had insisted on calling it by its proper name . Every. Time.

The thought makes you chuckle as you call up Peter B. His icon flashes on the screen in front of you. With a click, he picks up the call, his face materialising holographically in front you. A little hand reaches up and tugs at his ear.

"Ow… ouch … Dad's on the phone, honey."

"Aww! How's my favourite Parker doing?"

"Not bad, actually! MJ just made us probably the best burger this side of New York-"

"-sorry, Peter? Me and May are trying to have a conversation." You hear her giggle in the background. Her gap toothed grin pops into frame and she babbles excitedly. "...yeah, exactly May. That's literally what I said."

"Okay, okay, that's enough." He puts the toddler down and watches her scurry away. "You're feeling better, I see."

"Yeah, back in action. Thought I'd check in."

"All good here." He squints, trying to take in your surroundings. "You're at HQ?"

You hum.

"Could've sworn Lyla cancelled…"

"Yeah, didn't get the memo. But I think something's wrong with O'Hara."

He gives you a weird look. "Uhhh, what makes you think that?"

"He won't even look at me. Was it something I said? Something I did?" Your eyes narrow. "...what do you know, Peter?"

"Nothing! Absolutely nothing!" He scoffs, a little too quickly, clutching his chest like you've offended him. He's stared down some of the scariest villains around, but the look you give him is truly chilling. "Just… uhhh. You didn't hear this from me."

"Naturally…"

"We tracked 'em down, the guys that ambushed you and Jessica."

"The Sinister Six? From Earth-215?"

"Yeah, but by the time we got there, it was just Kraven and some of his goons. Miguel got there first, and…." He gulps. "He was pissed. Trashed the whole place looking for the rest of 'em. Beat Kraven half to death and we had to pull him off."

"Shit."

"Yeah, it was pretty rough. Never seen him like that before. And just generally? He'd been weirdly quiet, a little grumpy, more aggressive on missions. I don't know what's gotten into him."

"Hmmm. Thanks, Pete."

"No problem, sweetheart. And if the big guy asks… "

"...this didn't come from you, I know." Weakly, you smile. "Say hi to my favourite Parkers, for me."

" 'Course I will. We should celebrate, if you're back officially. Mine and MJ's is always open."

"Good to know. I'll see you around."

He waves goodbye, and the hologram clicks off. Sighing, you try to piece together what you've just heard.

Miguel: acting weird. Well, you knew that already. Aggressive was new. And Lyla? She had canceled, but not for you, for some reason. An honest mistake, perhaps. But Lyla doesn't make mistakes…

You stew for a couple of hours, puttering about the switchboard, twiddling your thumbs. Something's wrong, and for some reason you're afraid to see him. To have him look straight through you, again, when you ask to do the same. Show me where it hurts. Tell me how to make it better.

On the way there, you chew your lip in anticipation. In the corridor, you're outside the door to his place, hand hovering above the door. To knock, to call. In the harsh fluorescent light, you hesitate.

"Lyla?" Nervously, you sink down onto the floor. It's hard to explain, but you don't expect her to actually come; to materialise in front of you.

"How can I assist you?" She says with a ding.

"Uhh… hi. Just wanted to talk." You pause, clicking your tongue. "Can you be honest with me?"

"I can only be honest with you. It is not in my programming to lie, unless specified by my owner."

"Sure. Cool. It's about him, actually. Is Miguel okay?"

She tilts her head, as if processing your request. "Okay is a subjective term. Is Mr O'Hara alive? Yes. Is Mr O'Hara physically well? Yes. By those terms, he is okay ."

Too vague for your own liking. "I guess I meant more… his emotional state. To the best of your knowledge… in your opinion , Lyla: is Miguel okay?"

"...I believe Mr O'Hara is experiencing some emotional turmoil."

You frown. "Oh. Do you know why?"

"Mr O'Hara has instructed me not to disclose that information with you."

"Fair enough. But you don't have to tell me… I could just ask questions?"

She nods. "There is nothing in my programming that prevents me from answering some questions within certain parameters."

"Did I do something? Not just today but… last time I was here. Did I say something to hurt or upset him? Is that why he's acting weird?"

"No." She says blankly. "And yes. I suppose it is… complicated." She gestures around that word.

"I'm a little confused, Lyla."

She sits next to you, on the cool tile. Not that she could feel it, but it feels more intimate - like two friends talking. The extent of Lyla's consciousness, you weren't sure of. Was she alive? To you, she might as well be. Could she think, feel, emote? Maybe, maybe not. You weren't smart enough to understand the nuances of her programming. But you were human enough to see it in her - something glittering beyond the surface.

It could be projection, but you swear her voice is softer. "He has a name for you. When he speaks about you, and to you. I have it logged in my memory database. Do you know what that is?" You shake your head.

Lyla opens up her palm and projects videos and images - little Miguel's popping up in her palm, tinny and gruff voices ringing through the hallway. They say your name, shout your name, whisper it. Some say other things in Spanish. Curse words had always been your assumption, and he had given you no reason to think otherwise. Now, having it played back to you, you hear a tenderness in his voice you would've missed. Words and phrases that come up again and again…

"Bichita." She repeats. "Bichito del amor. Mi bichito amoroso. "

You shake your head, still confounded. "...I don't speak Spanish, Lyla."

"Little bug. Sweetheart. Lovebug. My little lovebug." She clears her throat. "I believe they are terms of endearment."

Steadfast, she directs you towards her palm. Another small Miguel appears, and you think it's him from this morning.

"I thought I told you not to let anyone in, Lyla?"

"I did not let her in. She let herself in using the code you previously gave her, Mr O'Hara."

"Yeah, for emergencies. Fuck. Mi bichita, too smart for her own good."

"...If you are in distress, I believe she would understand, Mr O'Hara."

"I just think it's too much. I don't want her to see me like this."

"According to Alchemax files, previous subjects showing this kind of aggression benefitted from-"

"Lyla, it's not happening, no chance. I can't tell her."

The figure blinks out of her palm. "Mr O'Hara has forbid me from telling you about certain things."

"...but not from showing me." Your eyes meet hers. You give her a watery smile. "Thank you."

With a hint of a smile, she nods and is gone from the corridor. You are left alone, with nothing but your thoughts of little lovebugs rattling around in your brain.

#miguel o hara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #across the spiderverse #kat_writes😼#this gif is fucking crazy btw

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total-dxmure · 4 months

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✦ INVISIBLE STRING THEORY →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER ONE

pairings: modern!marine ellie x reader

summary: the marines didn’t ruin ellie. ellie ruined ellie. after being medically discharged she feels lost. being sent to live with joel is more of a last ditch effort to save her and less of a fun reunion for the father-daughter duo. jackson is worlds different than chicago, but the fresh air and sprawling countrysides are a welcome reprieve. ellie finds herself finding comfort in more than just the change in scenery though. after losing your girlfriend due to an accident you feel as though you’ll never find love again- but that was before meeting ellie williams. the two of you figure out that you have more in common than just the fact that she and your girlfriend were both marines though. tethered by some invisible string, the two of you meeting has to be fate. who would have known that you were the golden ticket to ellie’s recovery?

warnings: eventual smut! lots of tension building and mutual pining. ellie falls first and hard. small town girl meets a frightening, strong ex marine. TW: talk of panic attacks, ptsd episodes and death. come for the ellie smut and stay for the plot and fluff.

⬶ previous chapter | next chapter ⤅

“The fact that she’s military is the only thing saving her ass right now.”

Ellie kept her head bowed down low, her hands clasped in between her legs as she hunched over in the seat, making herself as small as possible. Her knuckles were bruised and scrapped to hell, the blood already dried and crusted. Most of the blood wasn’t hers, and if she thought about that fact for too long she’d probably have an episode. Either that or she’d throw up all over the sheriff’s office.

“Boss, I really appreciate you calling me instead of booking her. You have to understand that she’s in therapy and is on a shit ton of medications. Is the guy gonna press charges. . . ?” Hearing her best friend kiss up to his boss on her behalf had the vein in her forehead twitching.

“Technically the boy was shoplifting, so I doubt he’s gonna go forward with any sort’a legal action. I know she was trying to help, but she used excessive force. Beat the poor kid black and blue. . . I mean-” The officer lowered his voice, and Ellie could hear Jesse’s chair creak as he leaned forward. “His damn tooth was knocked out.” The sheriff whispered.

She closed her eyes tight, running a shaky hand over her face. She should own up to all of this and apologize. This was her fault, so why. . . why was she just sitting there? It was like she was glued to the chair, unable to move her head up. She couldn’t look Jesse in the eye. She was ashamed of herself.

Because she smelled like greasy, unwashed hair and cigarettes, was wearing the same pair of jeans she’d worn yesterday when he invited her over to his and Dina’s for dinner, and now he was having to pick her up at the police station for starting a fight.

A pack of beer. That’s what she’d pummeled the boy over.

He couldn’t have even been her age. He looked freshly legal, and something in her fucked up mind told her that it was okay to hurt him like that. The second that the nice elderly woman behind the counter had started screaming about a man stealing from her, some sort of switch had been flipped in her brain. Loud noises always made her feel anxious, but screaming like that? She couldn’t have stopped the meltdown even if she’d wanted to. So she dropped what she was holding and ran after him. What happened afterwards was. . . well, it was a blur. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and rubbed her temples, trying hard to remember.

Her therapist called them “PTSD episodes”. Random things triggered a breakdown: loud noises, gunshots, screams, flashes of light. . . they were unavoidable. She’d lose total track of time when it happened. One second the door to Ellie’s walk-in closet was closing behind her, plummeting her in darkness, and the next she’d be laying on her back in the middle of her room, balling her eyes out. Living like this was hell, but no matter how many mind-numbing pills she was prescribed, she still found it nearly impossible to function.

She didn’t want to scare her loved ones. When Joel called she just. . . lied. It made her feel dirty. It was wrong and she knew that, but it was better than the alternative. Being a liar was better than being a broken failure.

“Yeah, I’m doing great. My therapist is on to something, I think.”

“Come on, rambo. Let’s get you to bed.” Jesse placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, knowing better than to pat her on the back like he used to.

Ellie knew it hurt him to see her flinch under his touch. She swallowed back bile and stood up, practically having to drag herself out of the officers office. She couldn’t look at him. She couldn’t thank him or- or anything.

But then he did that thing. . . he thanked Ellie.

Ellie didn’t give a shit about the military discounts or the cheaper car insurance- she got a nice cushy check from the military every month just for breathing. She didn’t want pity or thanks simply because she didn’t deserve it.

“Thank you for your service, Williams.” The sheriff’s voice reminded her of Joel’s. For some reason that made it hurt even worse.

Still, her muscles tightened, and she worked hard to straighten her posture.

“It was my privilege.” It was a well rehearsed response. It didn’t even sound like her voice when she had said it though, and it scared her.

As she followed Jesse out to his truck, she tried to ascertain whether she was just beginning to disassociate or whether or not this was all just another strange side effect from her meds.

She blinked and suddenly she was already situated in the car, Jesse on the main road to get the both of them back home. He had the radio turned down to just a hum, his sleepy eyes glued to the road in front of him. The clock on his dashboard told her that it wasn’t just “late” anymore, but “morning” now. Ellie sat up suddenly, her heart pounding as she tried to map out exactly how many minutes she had just lost.

“Fuck.” She breathed, pressing her palms against her eyes.

She needed to call her therapist sometime today. She needed. . . She needed a lower dose of medication. There’s no way any of this was normal.

“Have you eaten?” Jesse asked, turning his head to finally look at her.

Ellie wished that he felt inconvenienced by her. Anger would be better than pity, but the look in his eyes was anything but annoyance. Jesse looked like he was close to tears. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, and Ellie felt called to reach her hand out and place it on his shoulder. She wasn’t a very touchy person these days (and it’s not like she was to begin with), but he needed it.

“Not in a couple of hours.” Ellie answered him, letting her fingers dig into the soft fabric of his shirt.

He nodded and cleared his throat, sitting up a little straighter. When Ellie dropped her hand and turned to look out the passenger side window, she could have sworn he lifted his arm to hurriedly wipe at his eyes. She couldn’t be sure though. . . seeing as she was now legally blind in her left eye. The wonky eye and the thin scar that started in the middle of her forehead and ended on her brow bone were the only physical reminders that she had of the explosion.

It seemed so miniscule compared to all of the shit that was going on in her head. She’d much rather have a destroyed body than a brain that didn’t work right anymore.

“How about you sleep in the guest bedroom? Dina’s probably worried sick about the both of us. Let’s. . . let’s spend the day together. Yeah?” It sounded like he was pleading with her.

There was a brief moment of heavy silence. No matter how much of a burden she saw herself as, the thought of going home right now frightened her. Ellie was terrified that she was going to end up all alone in this world, but she couldn’t stop pushing everyone away. It’s almost as if. . . she knew that she was bound to self-destruct at some point. She didn’t want anyone to see her like that.

“She’s going to kill me.” Ellie groaned out, dramatically banging her head against the headrest.

Jesse’s lips twitched up into a smile, but he was quick to try and mask it. “Nah. Dina? Mad at you for getting arrested at one thirty in the morning? No way.” His tone was sarcastic, and Ellie appreciated the fact that Jesse could still joke under circumstances like this. It made things feel almost normal. Almost.

Ellie winced, dragging a battered and bruised hand over her face. She had no idea why she’d been at the gas station picking up a bag of pretzels and a pack of ding-dongs that late at night. A documentary about the recently discovered Exo-planet was on the Discovery channel, and she’d actually worked up an appetite after it was over. She missed acting her age. Maybe that’s why she ended up getting into her Jeep. She was tired of feeling nostalgic and actually wanted to do something for herself. As minuscule as grabbing snacks from the gas station down the street was, it still felt out of the ordinary for her. Special.

Dina was sitting on the couch when the pair slunk into the house, walking on their tip toes in the hopes that the creaking wooden floors wouldn’t wake up JJ. Ellie froze in the entryway, green eyes wide as she took in the female’s crossed arms and death-glare. She was in trouble, which meant that Jesse was in trouble as well by association.

“Do you know what time it is?” Dina whisper-yelled, throwing her arm in the direction of the clock on the wall.

Ellie squinted her one good eye, noting that it was now four in the morning. She’d lost three hours. She should have been passed out on her prescribed sleeping pills by now, plagued by vivid nightmares. Instead she was intruding on her two best friends, and for what? ‘A pack of beer’, she reminded herself. A god damn pack of fuckin’ beer.

Ellie’s mouth went dry, her lips moving but no words escaping her. How many times had she apologized to Dina since she’d gotten home after the accident? Still, her best friend’s anger was better than Jesse’s pity. The sleeves of Ellie’s flannel tightened around her biceps as she crossed her arms over her chest, mirroring Dina’s posture as if to protect herself. She slipped a hand up, covering her neck anxiously.

“I’m getting better, D. I’ll schedule an emergency meeting with my therapist and-” Ellie sounded pathetic, even to her own ears.

What she was doing couldn’t be called living. Ellie was simply existing and not doing a very good job at it either. She was tired of being tired. She blinked her misty eyes, turning to face the kitchen. She refused to cry. Once she started she couldn’t be sure that she’d be able to stop.

Jesse and Dina’s shoes were all neatly laid out by the front door and JJ’s baby bag was sitting on the dining room table. This was a family that she had just burdened. Her eyes snagged on JJ’s highchair, and then the guilt was building right back up in her chest.

Guilt and jealousy.

Ellie had once had hopes of starting her own family eventually. When did she lose her grasp on that? On her lifelong dreams and aspirations? She wanted to help people- save people- so when had she become the one that needed saving? The marines hadn’t ruined Ellie. Ellie had ruined Ellie.

“No, you’re not.” Dina said simply, her voice sounding thick with emotion. “Ellie, look at me.” Her voice was commanding despite her sadness.

Ellie’s eyes fell to the floor, but she turned her head to face Dina, green eyes flickering up to her face. Bottom lip quivering, brown eyes misty- Dina looked miserable.

“You’re not getting better.” She whispered to Ellie, shaking her head to drive the point home. It looked like the words physically hurt for her to say.

Every excuse that she could have given dissipated. Suddenly she felt naked, utterly exposed. Every nasty, jagged scar was on full display. How many times had she said that to the people that cared about her?

“I’m getting better.” “I actually feel a bit better today.” “You don’t have to worry about me. The meds are really working this time.” Ellie wasn’t sure when it happened but she had become a liar. A damn good one too. Dina was looking at her now though, really looking at her, and Ellie’s face crumpled.

“Fuck.” Ellie whispered to herself, moving her hands to cover her face.

Jesse stepped behind Ellie, wrapping his arms around her tightly, resting his cheek on the top of her head. A sob caught in Ellie’s chest and she strangled it before it could escape her. She couldn’t lose it. She couldn’t let her shoulders sag, couldn’t allow herself to feel everything in front of her best friends.

“I called Joel,” Dina finally said, leaning against the back of the couch, her knuckles going white with how hard she gripped the leather. “And he bought you a plane ticket. You’re flying out tomorrow.”

“No,” Ellie was already shaking her head before Dina had even finished her sentence. “How could you do this?” She felt the betrayal like a slap in the face. Her lips parted, eyes wide in silent desperation.

Please let this be a nightmare.

Her hand desperately flew to her arm, giving it a sharp pinch. The floor didn’t fall out from under her. She didn’t sit up sweating in her tangled sheets. This was actually happening. Actually real.

“You’re flailing, Ellie. We thought that eventually you’d level out,” Dina tried, taking a few steps towards Ellie and her husband. “But you’re only getting worse.”

“I’m getting better.” The well rehearsed line was the only thing she could think to utter. She prayed that eventually she could convince herself of that too. If she said the words enough times then maybe, eventually, they would become her reality. Perhaps she could somehow manifest her recovery.

“When was the last time you ate a solid meal? You barely touched your plate the other night. And I know you aren’t eating the food that Jesse drops off for you.” Dina was pointing out her flaws as if she didn’t see them all herself.

A full stomach meant nausea.

“When was the last time you showered?” The dark haired girl questioned.

Showering meant closing herself up into a tight space. It meant getting naked- seeing her scars. Remembering what happened to her and the rest of her unit.

“We know how this will end, Ellie. I don’t care if you hate me for the rest of my life for calling Joel. I refuse to lose you like this.” Dina’s voice quivered as she spoke, but her eyes hardened. She was resolute about her decision.

Jesse’s arms tightened around Ellie and suddenly they no longer felt like a comfort but a prison. She needed air. Needed to call Joel and apologize. Needed to tell him that she was fine. She was fine. She would be just fine.

“I can’t breathe.” Ellie managed to whisper out, knees buckling from underneath her. It felt like the world was finally swallowing her up whole.

She was a failure. She’d failed Jesse, Dina, JJ and Joel. Why couldn’t she just be normal again? Why couldn’t she just fucking breathe.

Jesse let go of Ellie as she began gasping for air, helping to sit her down on the cold hardwood floor. It felt like everything around her had slowed down to a crawl, but her mind- it had sped up to a breakneck pace. She couldn’t turn it off. Couldn’t turn off the thoughts and the images and the feelings.

She’d killed her unit. It was her fault that they all died. They had all been taken home in body bags, and what had Ellie gotten? A fucking government issued check every month that she blew on booze and a Purple Heart that collected dust.

“D, get the medication that’s in the cabinet and a glass of water.” Jesse called out to his wife. It sounded like they were underwater. She was drowning.

“She’s ripping her fucking hair out, Jesse.” Dina called out in panic, rifling through the medicine cabinet with shaky hands. Her best friend gripped her wrists, forcing them back down to her sides. Strands of Auburn hair were tangled up between her clammy fingers.

JJ must have woken up because of the comotion. She could hear him crying from the other room. Screaming for his mother.

Blood. So much blood. It’s coming out of her mouth, what do I do? What do I do about internal bleeding again? Wasn’t I trained for this? Breathe. She’s not breathing. Are there other landmines? Can I drag her to safety? Where is everyone else? H-How. . . How can I help?

“Swallow, Ellie.” Dina was crouched in front of her, forcing her lips open to slide a pill onto her tongue.

“It was my fault. I-I fucking,” She choked out, gagging at the taste of the pill that was beginning to dissolve on her tongue. “I led them out there. Oh, fuck.”

Dina was beginning to panic, pushing the plastic cup up to Ellie’s mouth in the hopes that she would drink. She did, choking back the water in deep gulps. The water helped to fill the aching pit that was beginning to grow in her stomach. Water poured down the sides of Ellie’s lips, but she kept drinking. Deep, thoughtful gulps of ice cold water.

“Should I call an ambulance?” Dina finally asked, her eyes flickering between Ellie and her husband.

“No. No hospital. Just go sit with JJ, alright? I’ve got her.” Jesse told her, letting go of Ellie’s hands so that he could wrap an arm around her waist, hugging her against his chest so that she couldn’t stand up.

Ellie blinked and Dina was gone, the sound of her bare feet jogging down the hall was the only reminder of her presence.

“Joel isn’t going to judge you, Ellie. We all just want to help. So let us, alright?” She knew he was telling the truth, but the thought of Joel seeing her as lesser-than killed her. She would crumble completely if Joel looked at her with the same sorrowful eyes that Jesse did.

Joel was newly retired though, and the last thing he needed was to put up with his PTSD-ridden adopted daughter. She was tired of feeling like a burden, but where had standing on her own two feet gotten her? Arrested on multiple occasions? So she relented. She surrendered to the idea of sleeping in her old bedroom and taking up space in Joel’s too-big ranch home.

“Okay.” Ellie croaked, feeling the medication kicking in. Sleep. All Ellie wanted to do was sleep.

“Okay?” Jesse repeated back to her, needing to know that she was serious. The last thing he probably wanted to do was wrestle Ellie onto the plane. He wasn’t entirely sure he could overpower her when it came down to it.

“Okay.”

Grief was an uphill battle. One minute you’re laughing with your friends and then the next you’re laid up in bed, tossing and turning with the realization that what could have been was now an impossibility. You missed Abby. You missed the life that you could have had with her. All of the memories and milestones you missed out on were soul crushing the second that the sun went down.

You were left in your empty house, laid up in the bed that the two of you once shared. Her scent had long since washed out of her pillow. All that was left were pictures and a gravesite that you still couldn’t bring yourself to visit. Life doesn’t stop when you lose somebody though. People eventually become less forgiving as the months pass by.

So you squeezed your eyes closed and hoped that sleep would come sooner rather than later. You had an early start tomorrow for work, and the last thing you wanted was to show up with puffy eyes.

Life was getting better though. The pain wasn't as debilitating as it had been months ago, and for that you were thankful.

One step at a time, one day at a time.

You were still breathing, which was exactly what Abby would have wanted for you. The overwhelming grief hadn't killed you, no matter how many times you'd secretly prayed that it would. You were still here and that was good enough.

For now, at least.

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ahundredtimesover · 3 months

Text

I Want You to Stay (04) | 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: 11.4k

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: Hiii I'm getting slower with editing and writing so please bear with me moving forward! Also pls remember, this is a slow burn haha. But anyway, been loving your replies (I see you) and messages, thank you. I hope you enjoy this one!

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight 🥰

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

The events of last weekend remain in your mind, as you approach Jungkook’s apartment the next Monday and feel like your heart will leap out of your chest.

You remind yourself that he wasn’t angry at you; he’d even tried to apologize and didn’t make a fuss when you left the restaurant last Saturday. But still, the whole incident would make anyone feel agitated, and you know his capacity to feel and express that. He was inconvenienced and put on the spot, after all.

You enter, and shortly after, Jungkook exits the gym then greets you with a nod when he sees you. He looks more tired than anything. He doesn’t have a hint of frustration in his eyes, and you could only hope that he’d forgotten about what happened or, like how he is when it comes to personal matters, he’d chosen not to acknowledge it.

You bow in return, sneaking a glance as he walks towards his bedroom, with your throat drying up when he removes his shirt, briefly gracing you with a view of his glistening toned back right before disappearing inside. You wait half a minute before you follow him to prepare his clothes, giving yourself time to breathe before you have to face him again. You return to the kitchen and prepare his breakfast, looking up when you hear him walk in.

You approach him to do an act that’s become a routine for you, and for him as well, as he stands straight and unmoving while you tighten his tie and make sure he looks fine. Even when your fingers only graze his clothed chest, the memory from last Saturday becomes vivid, as you recall wiping his wine-soaked top, feeling the taut body underneath.

You shake your head at the thought, realizing that there are more things about that night that you should not acknowledge at all, including the heat you felt at seeing him in the washroom, a little exposed and definitely sweaty. There was that tension and the dropping of formalities that felt too foreign and quite disorienting. You don’t know him as anything other than the ‘Mr. Jeon’ you assist; seeing him as just ‘Jungkook’ was different. But you suppose that that’s the man you help everyday, and you wonder how much of himself he leaves behind in the office and how much of him now is just… him.

As you go about your routine during breakfast, you’re reminded that for Jungkook, there doesn’t seem to be a difference. How he is at work is the same as how he is elsewhere - serious, quiet, and detached. Except maybe when he’s with those women he meets at clubs, though. Perhaps the thrill and pleasure inject a bit of emotion and passion in him. You wouldn’t know, but at least it’s a way for him to take a break from the responsibilities he carries.

You scold yourself internally again. You’re not supposed to be curious; you’re not supposed to care. So you shake all of them away and remind yourself of who you are and your own distance that you should observe.

You get to your senses and proceed accordingly. You go about as usual in the morning with his meetings, and then he shuts his office so he could focus in the afternoon. You see his furrowed brows from the window, as he works on what seems to be the Arts Center again, given his requests for financial and marketing reports of the company's non-residential projects from the last five years.

You’re busy with organizing his Singapore trip and coordinating with the CEO’s office about the upcoming Appointment Dinner to formally introduce the new appointees, when he exits his room and looks through the folders lined on the shelf behind you.

“Where are the portfolios of our collaboration projects from 2017?” He asks.

“They’re in the archive room,” you answer, standing up to head there.

But he does it first, beating you to the corner area just off the hallway to the left. Your steps are obviously not at pace with his, and he’s tiptoeing to reach for a large folder by the time you get there. He’s able to retrieve it, laying it on the ledge as he goes through some pages.

“I could’ve gotten that,” you say softly, and Jungkook turns to you and wishes he hadn’t, as your pout makes his insides melt.

There’s something about your disappointment that you didn’t get to help him that makes his heart race a little, and while he knows it has everything to do with you thinking that he’d think you’re not doing your job properly, he still likes to keep the thought that you’d wanted to help him in the first place.

“It was heavy,” he explains.

“I’ve carried and pulled and pushed things way heavier than that folder,” you scoff.

“Really?” Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, trying not to show amusement on his face. “My cousin let you do all those things, huh?”

You frown at his attempt to catch you slipping. “I do many things in the background during events, Mr. Jeon, things that get everything functioning properly while Mr. Jung engages with the guests.”

Jungkook can only imagine how much work you put into getting those events hosted by the VP’s office running. Perhaps retrieving heavy folders is no big deal for you. But still, he doesn’t want to come across as a jerk for making you do something he can do on his own. He already was, he reminds himself, and you also definitely think he is; he doesn’t want to add to that any more, not after everything that’s happened.

So he just nods. “It’s a simple task I can do.”

Jungkook looks at the labeled boxes and folders. He’s got materials and design points to finalize by tonight. There are some more past projects he wants to go through to take inspiration from, and he finds another one he wants to look at, underestimating its weight, which is why he jerks in surprise when he feels how heavy it really is.

You’re there on cue, as if you knew it was gonna be too much. And if he’d asked you, you probably would’ve told him so.

You’re standing much closer to him, your fingers grazing against his as you hold onto the folder. It’s almost familiar, only because you stood this close to him that night at the restaurant, too - when you cleaned him up, and then when you handed him his clothes in the washroom. You actually stand this close to him everyday when you fix his tie. Perhaps after all that, it’s only dawning on you just how little space between you two there are sometimes, and you’re suddenly hyper aware - of the distance, of his scent, of the way he’s looking back at you when you turn to look at him.

“It was heavy,” he admits.

And for some reason, you laugh. Maybe it’s the slightly embarrassed look on his face or it’s just your defense mechanism when you feel tense but you let out an amused sound, with it fading as the time goes by and you realize you’re actually laughing at your boss.

“Making fun of me, Ms. Cho?”

“I… I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon,” you stammer, stepping away.

You’re about to mentally curse yourself until you see his slight smirk, and the thought of him making fun at you by scaring you like that makes you feel better. He may have some sense of humor after all.

Still, you bow in apology, and there’s a moment when you meet his eyes, with something not anger or frustration in them, that you both linger, as if there are things both of you feel that need to be said; you just don’t know what they are.

“Did the dry cleaners get to remove the wine stains?” You manage to get some words out, turning away now as you bring up last Saturday night.

“Uh, yeah,” he responds. There’s a pause before he continues. “Did… did you get home okay?”

You’re too stunned to be able to answer right away but you eventually do. “Uh, yeah. Jimin, Soomin, and I just bought food and then went to my apartment. And you?”

“I did,” he nods.

“Did… did Hajoon bother you again after we left?”

“No. Well, he just kept giving me the death stare but he didn’t do anything else,” he says.

“I really don’t know what got him so worked up,” you sigh, feeling bolder at having to share this much. “He’s not usually confrontational and he knows I hate it. That shouldn’t have happened.”

“People have their reasons for getting angry. They’re not always valid, though, and definitely not always warranted,” Jungkook replies, briefly looking away. “Whatever it is, at least he didn’t throw a punch.”

“Oh, if he did, that is it for me,” you chuckle, feeling unfamiliar with being able to talk to Jungkook so casually like this. “Goodbye, job; goodbye, Seoul. I will probably just work as a librarian somewhere.”

Jungkook wants to say he wouldn’t accept your resignation for that reason, that he doesn’t want you to go anywhere, actually. But that’s too much and probably inappropriate to say given the circumstances. So he just hums and turns back to the folder and looks through them.

“I’ll need these back in my room,” he says, carrying one while you take the other.

You appreciate the topic change, knowing you won’t know how to handle more if the conversation deepens. You both walk back quietly, as it dawns on you that the casual nature you both talked to each other is a little disorienting.

You’re not used to him sounding concerned.

He’s not used to you being honest and open.

Perhaps seeing a different side of him isn’t all that bad, you think.

Jungkook wants to believe it’s your way of forgiving him, too, even if he hasn’t actually apologized for anything.

The minute it takes to return to your respective desks ends, and Jungkook is back to focusing on his designs while you get back to making reservations. You peek inside his room every once in a while to check if he’s okay, if there’s anything else he needs, if there’s anything you can do for him.

The frustrated look on his face isn’t new, but the fact that it isn’t directed at you, is. So is the worried feeling you have for him. You’re a mix of emotions from everything that’s happened this past month, so you can’t deny that the way he’s been acting towards you has left you confused, maybe even doubtful. You have to be cautious, you think, and not fall into a comfortable dynamic with him so easily.

The next day, he’s back to being serious once again, as you sit to his right in the restaurant that will be catering the upcoming VP event. Jungkook decided for both of you to have the food tasting for lunch, and so a spread has been prepared for him to make the final decision on the menu.

You’d like to think that you’ve developed quite a sophisticated palate, all thanks to the numerous events that Hoseok asked you to organize in your three years working under him. With this upcoming dinner party a sort of introduction of Jungkook and the project to the art world, he wants to make sure that he serves only the best to the guests, which is why he carefully tastes each dish, trying to determine the best combination that’s both delicious and creative.

You give your comments, some of which he acknowledges, and you feel like you’re both making headway in terms of the menu, as well as with his disposition for the day, given that he’s looking more comfortable and relaxed than he was half an hour ago.

That is, until he sips his wine for the first time, and clears his throat.

“I believe I specifically said that lunch today is a work matter, Ms. Cho,” he says sternly. “You’re on the clock and this isn’t a break.”

“Y—yes, Mr. Jeon,” you answer, curious as to the reason for his statement.

“Then why is your boyfriend waiting outside the restaurant, trying to catch your attention?”

“What?” You exclaim, turning around and spotting Hajoon standing by the lamppost, his sullen eyes getting a bit of light in them once they meet yours. “I… I don’t know,” you respond. “I haven’t spoken to him since Saturday.”

“How did he know you’re here, then?”

“His restaurant is just up the street,” you sigh. “He must’ve seen me when he was walking there. This area is his usual route. Please just ignore him.”

“I can’t when he’s in my peripheral vision. He’s still the man who got in my face the other night. He clearly wants to speak to you and I don’t think he’ll go away,” Jungkook reasons.

You look at him, waiting for his instructions.

Jungkook doesn’t like that Hajoon is there and he also doesn’t want you to speak with him during work hours, especially if it’s going to affect you for the rest of the day. But the man seems desperate and persistent; he really doesn’t seem like he’ll just let this moment of seeing you pass.

“You have five minutes,” Jungkook says.

You don’t exactly want to go out there; there’s a reason why you haven’t returned Hajoon’s texts or calls these past days. But you can imagine that it’s a worse look for him to be staying around; a distraction during this work matter that you know Jungkook would not appreciate one bit. So you stand up and tell him that you’ll be back shortly.

Jungkook returns to the dish in front of him, noting that the Japanese mushroom risotto is a good addition to the set menu. The event his office is planning includes a sit down dinner and then an offering of canapés and champagne while guests walk around the venue to see the presentation of the Arts Center in large boards and on screens. It will be a good way for him to socialize - something he’s incredibly nervous about because it’s not his strongest suit, nor is it something he enjoys, unlike his cousin. The primary goal, though, is to introduce the project. Jungkook needs important people on board so they can be involved in the launch and the succeeding special activities.

He tries to think about that night and how he wants to design the place. He tries to think of other things, too, like the music and decor, even if he’d said that’s for both of you to plan next week. He’s even thinking of a follow up already, even if his management support team is in charge of that and would be dependent on how this first one is gonna go.

Jungkook tries to think of anything, really, just so he won’t constantly be glancing at you in his periphery, as you talk to the man from the other night and possibly make up. You did leave him at the restaurant last Saturday; you also did clarify that you’re not together. You just said you haven’t spoken since then, so it’s safe to say that both of you aren’t in good terms.

Jungkook can only assume, though. He doesn’t know the story, nor would he ever; he reminds himself he shouldn’t be thinking about it in the first place. He was never one to be privy to his staff’s personal lives; he spent most of his time with Lucas but didn’t know more than his family's composition. Jungkook doesn’t even recall knowing if Lucas had a partner, or if his then-assistant even mentioned it.

But clearly, Hoseok knows more about you than Jungkook would’ve expected. Perhaps it’s just how his cousin is, or maybe the time spent together just created that environment where it’s natural or normal. Maybe it’s the culture that his father encouraged; his old man is quite close with Mr. Ri - his former chauffeur and bodyguard - and Mrs. Myung - his executive assistant, after all.

But it’s not what Jungkook is used to; it’s not how he spent his few years in the Singapore office because like always, all he did was work and party. His mentor in graduate school also advised him that professional lines are ones he shouldn’t cross. Though Jungkook never really knew what exactly those were, he just dared not get close to anyone or be remotely interested at all, and that never caused him any problem. He’s always been safe where he was, guarded and unbothered.

But ever since you walked through those doors at Hoseok’s office that first Friday, Jungkook has been finding himself skirting near the boundaries far too often, and it’s only been a month. It began with making sure you’re eating well and that you’re safe on the way to work; he convinces himself that’s human decency, although he never really bothered much before.

And between wanting you to get proper rest before your trip to your hometown, to seeing you with that man from last weekend and being so bothered by it that it caused a scene, Jungkook’s internal alarm bells are ringing, telling him that he’s getting too interested, too close. It doesn’t help that he finds you attractive, something he doesn’t have control over. What he does have a say in is how he responds to it, and that has been incredibly tough, especially given the weekend he’s had.

He’d spent the rest of it trying to keep his mind off you - the way you looked in that outfit, the way your touch sent shivers down his spine, the way you’d looked at him worriedly… And when you walked out of that restaurant, he wondered what you were thinking, how you were feeling, how you’d be spending the rest of the night, and if you were gonna be home okay. He hasn’t really stopped since.

Even now, as he stays in his seat and tightly grips his glass of wine at the scene unfolding outside.

You’re standing with your arms crossed - setting the boundaries, and perhaps signaling your detachment, though he can’t see your face. The man, on the other hand, seems emotional, the tinge of sadness evident on his face. But there’s a mix of frustration and anger, too, as his arms flail around. He points at you, then at himself. His voice seems raised; Jungkook swears he can see the veins from the man’s neck popping out while you… you’ve got your head turned to the side, your body not eliciting much of the emotion the way the man’s is.

Jungkook stops himself from making an excuse for you to come back inside, just so he can pull you away from a conversation that you don’t seem to be wanting to have. But he knows it’s not his place, and the man might make a scene again if Jungkook decides to step in. You know how to stand up for yourself; you’d done it to him, he reminds himself. You’ll do what you need to do, whatever it is.

The man heaves, as whatever monologue he was giving ends. He reaches out to you, perhaps making a final plea, but you step back, widening the distance. It’s what prompts him to bow his head and turn around, leaving you by the lamppost on your own.

Jungkook sighs in relief now and he waits for you to return, but he’s surprised when you stay rooted in your spot, your arms wrapping around yourself despite the heat outside. He worries when you enter, your head bowed down and unable to look at him.

He wants to ask how you are, but he’s unsure if he’s ready for your answer, knowing that there isn’t much he can do anyway. So he goes with what he knows - detachment.

“I’ve chosen the last two dishes,” he says. “They’re serving the desserts soon.”

You turn to him immediately, your misty eyes painted with worry meeting his own.

“I didn’t think I was away that long,” you state, worried about the time you left your boss waiting while dealing with a personal matter that for the first time made you wish you were stuck with Jungkook instead. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jeon.”

He didn’t expect you to look so upset. He’s terrible at comforting people, but even if he wasn’t, he doesn’t know if he’d manage to comfort you. So he just shrugs and says that they were straightforward dishes.

You both try the desserts then the canapés, exchanging thoughts about all the options before shortlisting your chosen dishes. By the time the food tasting is over, you’re stuffed and set for the rest of the day.

You try not to look at Jungkook. You don’t know if he’d seen how your conversation went with Hajoon, but if he had, he could probably tell what was going on even if he couldn’t hear anything.

He’s had his moments, but you’ve never seen Hajoon look that upset and emotional, and you stood there, afraid to face all his feelings that you didn’t know what to do with, all those words that you didn’t know how to take. You’re usually one who’s able to let negative things said to you just go over your head, but something about what he’d said today hit you; you know it’ll take you until tomorrow to get over them.

But you try to get through the rest of the day the way you usually do - going through reports, organizing schedules, finalizing tomorrow’s presentation, and then working on the revised interdepartmental guidelines that Jungkook tasked you to do.

There are draft letters you send to him, thinking that you’ll work on some administrative matters while he reviews them, but you’re surprised when he calls for you 10 minutes later, saying the letters are approved and you can send them in the morning. You’re left wondering, given that anything you submit to him usually goes through intense scrutiny. Perhaps you’re not used to this easy pass, but you try not to overthink it, given the day you’ve had.

“You can go home, Ms. Cho,” he says as he types away.

It’s 5:30 PM. Usually this time, he’s still handing you things to review or instructing you on what else to do.

He seems to pick up on your silence, as without looking at you, he clarifies. “I don’t need you to do things you can do tomorrow. We’ll have meetings all day so I understand if you want to stay behind but you don’t have to.”

He doesn’t seem like he’ll be finishing soon, and you’re really not in the best mood so you nod and bid him goodbye.

The conversation with Hajoon stays in your mind all night and lasts until the next day. You’re in Jungkook’s penthouse the next morning, preparing his breakfast while he takes a shower.

With your phone snug under your neck, you relay to Soomin what happened yesterday. She was too busy last night for a call and she’s been bugging you since you got in the car - that you continue to ride as per your boss’ instructions - so you finally picked up, knowing how long it usually takes for Jungkook to finish.

“It started with him apologizing, then wondering why I haven’t been picking up his calls, then justifying his actions from last Saturday as him, standing up for me,” you narrate. “Obviously, I didn’t take those too kindly. But he said he wanted to be with me, like, have an actual relationship. And I said I didn’t want to then he just… he kinda just said everything he’s been keeping in.”

“Which is what?” Soomin asks.

“That I’m selfish, that I don’t think about what my actions may mean to others, which is silly since I was clear from the start about what I wanted from him,” you sigh. “He said that I act independent but that’s just a front, that deep down I’m a lonely woman who’ll probably push away every person who’s shown me they care until I have no one left and that’s why I’ll be alone forever, which he says is a deep fear that I have because I apparently told him that when I was drunk. And even after all that, he said he still cares about me, that he wants to try to be something for real this time, that if I just let him, he’ll love me right and make me happy and I just backed away, like, why would you—”

The clearing of the throat cuts you off, and you nearly drop the expensive plate due to panic once you look up and see Jungkook standing by the kitchen.

“I’m so sorry for taking a personal call, Mr. Jeon,” you say immediately, putting away your phone. “It won’t happen again.”

You bow your head down in apology, which is why you don’t see the way Jungkook’s eyes soften as he looks at you. Words like that hurt, and he can’t imagine what it must’ve felt like for you hearing them. Still, you went about yesterday with your accomplished tasks and completed deliverables like it didn’t happen, displaying a kind of strength that he could only hope to have.

“Yesterday was a tough, I suppose,” he states, choosing to ignore your apology.

“It was a normal one,” you brush off, walking towards him to fix his tie, not meeting his gaze.

Jungkook doesn’t reply, knowing you don’t want to acknowledge that he’d overheard your conversation, which he didn’t mean to walk in on. It did bother him, too; he suddenly wishes he’d fought back if that man was just going to speak to you that way.

There’s a sadness in your eyes that he tries not to mind and which you try to trivialize. Perhaps the man matters that much to you for you to be feeling this bad; Jungkook doesn’t really know what to do with that thought. So he tries to brush it off, too, telling you instead to be ready for today’s meeting with his father.

You ask if he’s checked the presentation you worked on, as you added things from the last time. He nods and says he only added minimal details that he came up with last night, and you check to find that he indeed just made minute changes, another thing that you’re thankful for yet wary of, especially given how critical he was about your work in the beginning.

You continue with your morning routine of debriefing about yesterday’s meetings, then you finalize the Arts Center event’s menu in the car. When you arrive at the office, you wait patiently as he goes through some reports that you’ve checked, then he reviews some memos that he asked you to work on.

The last one finishes faster than you expected. It seems now that his comments are what you look for, only because it reminds you that he hasn’t changed; somehow that seems like a better thought to have than him suddenly being lenient or lowering his standards for you for some unknown reason. He’s definitely witnessed some of your low moments; you don’t want to think those have anything to do with how he’s been lately.

The meeting with the management support team ends before lunch time, and you work on the minutes and the other things Jungkook had asked of you during the time that he meets with Yoongi in his office. That takes another half hour, and by the time they’re done, you’re done with your tasks, too, so you send those documents to Jungkook for checking in the afternoon.

Another one off the list, you think to yourself. At this point, you’re just going over all your deliverables with a focused mindset and waiting for the day’s end so you can spend time for yourself, just on the couch watching variety shows and movies until the weekend comes when you can do that for longer hours.

Having your friends over or traveling to Daegu are the only other things you look forward to. You used to look forward to spending the night at Hajoon’s, too; you could at least feel something pleasurable - the closest you could get to any form of intimacy that didn’t require you to bare yourself other than your body. But that’s a thing of the past now - there’s that amazing life-changing toy that Soomin got you last Sunday that’s got you thinking that you’ll be fine being alone for the rest of your life.

“Long day, huh?”

You look up and see Yoongi, his curious eyes scanning your desk full of papers, folders, and half-eaten biscuits.

“It has been,” you sigh.

“I see. It’s also only just 12 noon,” he points out.

“What a shocking revelation, Min Yoongi,” you grunt. “I don’t need to be reminded that I have another six hours here.”

“Hmm, just like me. So, what are you looking forward to when you clock out?”

“My leftover stir-fry for dinner that I’m going to add beef to,” you respond. “And The Zone. I missed it last Monday.”

“You and your variety shows,” he chuckles.

“What other reason do I have to laugh, hmm?”

“I’d say me, but you don’t find me funny.”

“You aren’t, sorry,” you smile, your first of the day, and Yoongi smiles back, knowing you haven’t been doing it the past few weeks.

“So–”

“Ms. Cho,” Jungkook’s voice cuts Yoongi off, as your boss stands by his open door with curious eyes that flit from you to the man in front of you. He recovers though, as he instructs, “the minutes are fine. Send it to the team now so they can work on their tasks.”

“You’ve read it?” You speak too soon, realizing a second too late that the words didn’t stay in your head. Your widened eyes don’t help you though, as Jungkook scowls at you.

“Are you asking me if I’ve read the file that I just approved and instructed you to disseminate?”

Yoongi purses his lips to hold off a laugh, and you glare at him because his teasing isn’t really what you need right now.

“I meant, uh, you’ve reviewed it already, sir? I… thought… you were going to prepare for the lunch meeting instead,” you reason, which isn’t even a lie.

“I have. Father hasn’t called me up so I just reviewed the minutes while waiting.”

You look at the file and see that nothing has been added. “And? That’s it?”

“Ms. Cho, are you questioning my ability to review?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowed as he starts to look displeased, although they seem harmless compared to his frustrated expressions from the past.

“No, Mr. Jeon, I apologize,” you say. “I was wondering if you didn’t have anything more to add, that’s all.”

“There’s none,” he clarifies. “Just send it to the team and uh… get ready for the meeting.”

He glances at Yoongi before closing the door.

“Questioning your boss’ ability to review now, huh?” Yoongi teases.

“Shut up. He’s just been weird,” you pout.

“That’s new. How so?”

“He hasn’t been an asshole for a few days.”

“Well, that’s quite the standard but I get you, I guess,” Yoongi hums. “In what way has he been out of character?”

“He just… hasn’t been pointing things out and correcting my submissions or asking a lot of questions about the reports I review,” you say. “Or just… you know, he hasn’t been him. He makes Mr. Ri pick me up every morning, he doesn’t email on the weekend, I get to leave on time, I get to eat properly…”

“In short, he’s been a decent boss recently?”

“I guess… I mean, it’s been two weeks since my mishap. He’s been quite tolerable these past few days. Maybe he hit his head and some loose screws tightened. Maybe he had a bad dream and the ghost of the future me visited him. Maybe he had a change of heart… though that’s highly unlikely. Maybe he–”

“Realized he hasn’t been good to you and doesn’t want you to go through the horror of another Mrs. Byun,” Yoongi interjects.

Your curious eyes prompt him to continue. “We had a meeting the other day and I saw a folder on his desk with her name on it. Formal complaints are only available in physical copies; other personnel files are stored in the server, so the only documents he’d have of her are the ones of her investigation. And he’d only be interested in that because of you. Those include your written statements.”

“As do you yours,” you point out.

“Yes, he’d totally be interested in how his design lead witnessed a manager’s abuse of power three years ago,” Yoongi sarcastically says.

You sigh to yourself. You’ve never told Jungkook about your experience with Mrs. Byun, but you wouldn’t be surprised if Hoseok or even Yoongi has mentioned it to him. It’s an experience you don’t like to think about; you were a young woman who had everything to prove, who had a lot to lose, and conceding to someone taking advantage of you seemed like the only way to survive. Not once did you put your foot down, and not once did you stand up for yourself. You experienced all those then went home to an empty house and found comfort in your own warmth and your own breathing.

You don’t want that experience to determine how others would treat you after. Hoseok was all things gentle and warm and you know that whatever you went through wouldn’t have determined how he treated you.

But Jungkook… Jungkook is different. This isn’t his default state. This isn’t how he normally is. This isn’t how you started. The last thing you want is for him to feel pity for all that you went through - in the past and recently - and then treat you differently because of it. He’s been less critical, less judgmental, and less doubtful of your capabilities. You only wish it isn’t for anything that he’d read or seen you experience.

“I doubt it,” you shake your head. “A man that perpetually displeased doesn’t just decide one day that he’d give the bare minimum of decency to his assistant.”

“Look, ___. Jungkook is a lot of things. He has a lot of feelings that he doesn’t want to deal with, and a lot of emotions he doesn’t know how to express,” Yoongi tries to explain. “I wouldn’t be friends with him if I didn’t believe there’s an ounce of goodness in him. And there is. Maybe him showing it just isn't good timing. He’s terrible at that, too. In fact, he’s terrible at a lot of things, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t try. It doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of kindness.”

“Kindness,” you huff. That’s quite a reach, but Yoongi’s always been a good judge of character. You do want to believe what he says about Jungkook; it’s just not an easy switch to flip. “I’m just trying not to care much at this point,” you sigh. “I come to work, focus on my tasks, do whatever I’m asked, go back home, rinse and repeat.”

“Is it satisfying, though?”

“When was work ever satisfying, Yoongi?” You laugh bitterly.

“Well, I could at least recall seeing you enjoy organizing those events for Hoseok and even joining him in some,” Yoongi points out. “I… I saw you smile a lot. There was a bit of satisfaction there, yeah?”

“Somehow, I guess. But I just had to make do. Hoseok was great, but this is also my job, really the only thing going for me.”

“What are you working towards, then?”

“I don’t really know. Maybe at 30 I should know but I really don’t.”

“Then why are you still here?” He asks, softly, desperately. “Why do you stay?”

“And find out who I am outside of all this?” You wonder out loud. “What if I don’t like her? What if she isn’t good?”

“Then this place hasn’t been good for you if you doubt who you are outside of what you’ve done here,” Yoongi says. “You’re just 30; there’s a whole world out there where you can learn who you are and be someone you actually like. I don’t know what’s stopping you.”

A lot of things, you think to yourself. But when you find comfort in discomfort, when you find security in chaos, and when you find companionship in loneliness, it’s not that easy to leave all this behind, even if deep down, you know it’s what you have to do.

“I don’t know, too,” you lie. “Maybe I’ll find a good enough reason one day and that would be it; I’ll be out of here and then I can find out if I like myself outside of everything I know.”

“I think you would.”

I did, Yoongi thinks to himself. He knows you’d laugh and agree; he’s moved on from you and things can’t be any better than how your friendship is right now, but he also knows you’re not the best at feelings, a similarity he realizes you have with the person you supposedly dislike.

“I won’t know until then, I guess. So I just gotta bear with who I am now,” you say.

There’s so much of you that Yoongi doesn’t know. It’s why he wanted to, why he asked you out for coffee and why he felt a bit of a heartbreak when you turned him down. But there are parts of you that he does know, that you let him see, and sometimes he finds himself wishing you’d find someone you’d feel safe enough with to share everything else you keep to yourself.

He keeps these things to himself, too. He’s learned that the only way to keep you close is to keep his distance; you’ll reach out if you need to, even if it’s something you rarely do. But what’s important is that he’ll be there just in case; what matters is you know that there’s a hand available when you need it.

So he just nods and takes your word for it. You’ll find yourself somehow, in whatever way you will. And you’ll find a reason to leave, whenever that is. He could only hope it’s a decision you’d make on your own, one that you won’t regret, and one that’ll lead you to find whatever it is that you’re looking for.

“So what, they want to put a stop to the Arts Center? They’re not the ones working hard for it. And quite frankly, I don’t need their help in any way to make it happen.”

Jungkook shakes his head in disbelief, anger manifesting in the way he clenches his jaw and groans repeatedly. It’s a sight you’re familiar with by now, and for the first time, you feel for him. It feels as if with this project, he doesn’t seem to have anyone on his side, aside from Hoseok, who’s been encouraging and helpful in many ways.

“They don’t want to stop it, son,” CEO Jeon says. “They’re merely questioning some of your decisions about the prices you’ve set out.”

“In short, they’re undermining me,” Jungkook groans. “This is my project. We’ve done the necessary research. If they read the report, they’d know. But clearly, they just want reasons to doubt all this, to doubt me.”

“It’s just the first project of its kind,” his father reasons. “The arts institution from 2017 was a collaboration and it wasn’t this big. The Arts Center just isn’t the usual commercial establishment that the VP office undertakes. The Board just wants to be clear about the profits because it’s not as straightforward as the others. They want to know how the property will earn.”

“Exhibition entrance tickets, bookings, rent,” Jungkook replies. “What’s not straightforward about that? Might as well say they don’t understand or even value arts and culture because that makes money, and if done right and respectfully, it can make a lot of money. I know what I’m doing.”

“It’s not like I didn’t make those points, son. It’s your first big project. I think they just—”

“Don’t believe I can manage it on my own.”

“They don’t think you can make the necessary connections on your own,” CEO Jeon finally says. “We all know how important that is. They doubt you’d be able to forge good relationships with professionals in an industry we don’t really have strong connections to. And with a project this big, it’s the company’s resources and reputation on the line.”

There’s silence in the room, as Jungkook seems to process the core issue that the Board has with him. You can tell it’s affecting him so much, as the anger in his eyes slowly turns into resignation.

It’s no secret that Jungkook’s way of engaging with others leaves a lot to be desired. From what you can see, he’s used to thinking more, envisioning, planning - the concepts and designs are amazing in his head and there are others tasked to sell that idea, to make it connect with people, to express why it matters, and to make sure it earns. That’s what Hoseok is good at; Jungkook never seemed like the type who enjoys that aspect of the work.

“You should’ve thought about my outstanding interpersonal skills before appointing me as Vice President, then,” he says bitterly. “Clearly that’s what the Board and everyone else value more than anything.”

“Hey, Kook. We know you’re good for this role,” Hoseok comforts. “And we believe in your project, we really do. Just focus on that. Make sure you’re constantly adjusting and refining the plans, and remind the Board that your ideas are even better when they’ve come to life. You’ve done it with your other projects before. Eventually you’ll be able to show them that you’re more than capable of forging relationships, too. That’ll come naturally. But in the meantime, you just have to give them something to make them believe it’ll be good for the company and our image in the long-run. Make them envision it.”

“I have,” Jungkook argues. “And I’ll keep doing that. I just need father to be on my side. I just need him to back me up, to trust me and every single one of my decisions.”

You’ve never heard desperation in Jungkook’s voice until today and you’re surprised with how much it’s affecting you, not just because you know how much effort he’s put into conceptualizing the place but because you’ve come to believe in it, too.

“Ms. Cho.”

CEO Jeon’s voice pulls you away from Jungkook, and you turn to the older man and ask if there’s anything he needs.

“Your thoughts,” he responds. “What would the Arts Center mean for the company? Do you think it will yield profits?”

They’re not questions that are new to you. Hoseok would often ask you these things about the smaller projects that go through him. CEO Jeon has asked you the same things in informal situations before, not so much to gain new insight - although he claims that your thoughts are interesting to him - but to gauge your belief in the project. He has a good read on people; you’ve observed him ask questions and pick apart not what they said but how they said it. You suppose that’s what he’s doing now, too.

“You’ve mentioned a few times that you want to expand the company’s market, Mr. Jeon,” you start. “And if I remember correctly, the Board agreed. Efforts to cater to expats and the middle class have been successful, but perhaps another type of expansion is in engaging the field of the arts and culture and its creators and consumers. More people from all walks of life and all over the world are gaining interest in Korean art and culture in all forms and the company has the resources to create a space for it. Like what the Vice President said, there’s an opportunity to earn from it while, of course, respecting it.”

You see CEO Jeon and Hoseok nod, a sight you’ve seen before as well. But Jungkook looks at you with curiosity, with a look of anticipation, as if he’s hanging onto every word you’re saying.

“The Arts Center was conceptualized and designed to be a hub for all things creative,” you continue. “Making general admission free makes the arts accessible to people, and once that appreciation grows, they’ll pay to see it, to experience it. Just go to any online forum and you’ll see that the public wants to experience art, not just observe it. They’d travel for it. The Center has spaces for that. I think that’s the ultimate goal - for anyone to be immersed in it. And that can happen through art pieces in a gallery or in a garden, through books, music, or spoken poetry, or even a photoshoot. Patrons can book rooms for private events, they can buy from the gift shop, they can do art themselves. It’s like a canvas and they can take part in creating meaning for the space. That’s what we’re selling. And that’s something people are willing to buy.”

“I see your point, Ms. Cho,” CEO Jeon says, nodding satisfyingly at you. “And it’s a good one.”

“It’s what Mr. Jeon has been saying all this time,” you counter. “It’s easy to understand and to buy into the idea… if only the Board would listen to him. If only they’d open their mind to what he envisions.”

“Well, that’s one way to get through to them, then,” Hoseok voices out. “Invite them to the arts event, treat them like creators and consumers, not as Board members.”

“That’s a good idea,” CEO Jeon says. “Maybe then they can see how you engage with the guests, which I hope you’re working on. And while you’re at it, work on your relationship with them, too. That means initiating conversations, seeking them out… It's part of the job, son. The Board are our stakeholders, too, you know this.”

“Aren’t some of them based in Japan and Singapore?” You wonder aloud, hinting at another suggestion that you want would come from Jungkook himself, given his scheduled plans to fly there.

“Yeah. Maybe I can meet them the next time I go,” he says, picking up on your thoughts.

Jungkook isn’t really fond of engaging with them. He always just left the socializing part to his uncle who used to head the Southeast Asian office. When Jungkook would be in Seoul, he let his father, Hoseok, and Ji-woo deal with them, with nothing but an acknowledgment on his end. He tends to stay at the bar on his own just to drown out the sounds. Yoongi sometimes joins him but most times, Jungkook finds himself alone even during such events; being with a lot of people is tiring, lonesome, isolating. With this new role, he’s started to accept that he has to do more. It doesn’t mean he’ll enjoy it though.

“I’ll have that arranged for you,” you tell him.

“Well then, that’s one way to revamp your image,” the older man smiles. “You just have to keep that up moving forward. That’s why Ms. Cho is there. She’s used to these events and these engagements with them. You’ll be fine.”

You give a reassuring smile to Jungkook - a genuine one, as you see it’s what he needs, given all that you learned from today’s meeting. He merely nods, and you think that should be enough of an acknowledgment from his end.

Hoseok wraps it up, going through a few policy-related items and then reminding the other men about upcoming social gatherings that they all need to attend. He asks to briefly speak with Jungkook, whom he pulls aside, while the elder Mr. Jeon approaches you.

“Thank you for standing by Jungkook, Ms. Cho, especially since I haven’t been able to show my support the way I want to,” he says. “I know it hasn’t been easy.”

“It hasn’t, but he made me believe in his vision for the Center,” you respond. “I’m starting to see what he sees. And it’s quite beautiful.”

Jungkook overhears the exchange, as he zoned out on Hoseok once he heard his father address you.

It’s something that his cousin picks up, as he repeats what he just said, totally unbothered by it.

Hoseok, of all people, knows how important it is that you have Jungkook’s back. He also knows how difficult that must be for you, given how the man has been towards you all these weeks.

But you’re unwavering. You’re able to withstand the challenges, and while Hoseok knows that you do have a tendency to also allow yourself to suffer through it, he also knows you’ve learned, and you’ll stand your ground if you need to; he’ll back you up, and he can only hope you know that.

You all exit the private room of the restaurant and head back to the office across the street. It’s 4PM by the time you return to your desk, given that Jungkook called for a meeting with the management support team after what transpired during lunch.

You immediately work on the minutes and action points, finishing two hours later and then deciding that you’ll work on your next deliverable tomorrow.

Jungkook exits his room, informing you that he’ll be leaving for an early dinner with Hoseok at a nearby restaurant, and that Mr. Ri can drop you off at your place. You’ve contested the service that was offered to you, and you and Jungkook settled on a compromise that you can go home on your own except for late nights.

“Mr. Ri will just be waiting for me anyway. No harm in driving you home tonight,” Jungkook says, knowing you were about to turn down the offer.

“Okay, sir,” you reply.

You do last minute things and pack up immediately to go home, taking this chance to get proper rest because you know the last two days of the week are going to be tiring.

The next day, Jungkook does conference calls and closed-door meetings, leaving you to do summary reports and other administrative backlogs that have your eyebrows scrunched the entire day. If it wasn’t for Do-hyun reminding you about lunch that you promised to have with her, you would’ve totally forgotten.

You’re in the zone as you go through the afternoon - two meetings straight that have Jungkook rubbing his temples constantly and you doing the same. But you pop in some aspirin and ginseng jelly next to his cup of tea, feeling satisfied when he takes them.

You go home on time, not wanting to be offered a ride for a consecutive night, and you get proper rest to face the final day of the week.

It’s all going well, as you find a rhythm early on as you work on your deliverables while Jungkook remains focused on his own tasks. You’re the one who reminds him now to eat his lunch, and seeing the blueprints sprawled on his desk, you offer to buy him one yourself.

He nods in appreciation as you state his usual order for confirmation, and you eat your sandwich while waiting for his curry rice bowl in the food hall. You get back to your tasks, thankful for the unusually quiet and uneventful Friday.

You see now how hyper focused Jungkook could get. He’s got his blinds closed but you can tell that he’s immersed in his designs and proposals and plans. He’s not allowing calls or visitors, and he only rings you to ask for coffee, which you’ve given him four times so far. Towards the end of the day, you’re the one who asks to go in, informing him that the Board meeting has been moved to a week earlier than scheduled; it’s two Fridays from now, which means his team has to finalize everything soon.

It’s his first one since becoming Vice President, and given how he used to question you, you’re surprised when he asks your proposed timeline to prepare for the meeting.

“Manager Lee is already consolidating all the departmental reports,” you respond. “You can instruct him to finalize the VP report with all those by Wednesday; the presentation can be due on Friday so you can go through all of them. We can submit the report for CEO review the Monday after that and then you can prepare for your run through until the meeting.”

“Sounds good,” he replies. “I’ll send them an email with the instructions shortly.”

“Noted, sir,” you say. “I’ve also submitted the minutes of the past two days’ meetings as well as the policy guidelines you asked for.”

“Oh, right,” he says, taking his iPad. “I’ve looked through them. The minutes are good; you can disseminate them accordingly. I’ve highlighted the parts for the condensed version you’ll send to the CEO and the President. I also have minimal corrections and remarks on the policy guidelines and I’ve edited them directly on the file. Just proofread again and then affix my signature once you’ve finished.”

“Y—you’re done?” You ask. You hope he doesn’t pick up the shock in your voice.

“Yes, and I’ve read them. Thoroughly,” he answers.

You smile in embarrassment after the other day.

“Does that bother you?” He follows up.

“N-no, sir,” you say, knowing he’s waiting for an answer. “I guess I was expecting you to take longer because, you know, more comments. And you’ve been busy all day, too.”

“More comments… Is that what you’re expecting?”

“Sort of,” you admit. “I mean… you made a lot of them before.”

You pout in reflex as you realize how you sound. You’re basically pointing out how critical he used to be, and if you’re being honest, you do wish he still was. At least that tells you that he’s still the same, that no knowledge of your past experience with your former boss has made him change his disposition towards you.

Jungkook sees your pout, and he crosses his arms and legs to keep himself from doing something as stupid as wiping it off you. It’s a little disarming for him, if he’s being honest.

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” you clarify.

Liar, you think to yourself.

“Well, if I used to do it a lot and I still do that after a month in, wouldn’t it reflect poorly on you and me if you still haven’t learned from all that?” He asks.

You think about it and eventually nod. He does have a point.

“You’ve adapted. I’d be worried if you continued to do things the way you used to,” he adds.

You nod again, taking in all his words. Much as you appreciate them, there’s another thought still bugging you.

“May I be honest, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, your heart beating fast now as he looks at you curiously.

He nods anyway and asks you to continue.

“I don’t think you’d lower your standards or anything when it comes to my work,” you start. “So I don’t want to believe that you pity me just because you know what I experienced in the past.”

He looks at you questioningly, as if to ask what you’re talking about.

“I spotted Mrs. Byun’s files on your table,” you lie. “I assume you’ve read about how she treated me. And I… I don’t want to be pitied, Mr. Jeon. If it’s that, please don’t. Please don’t let it affect how you’d treat me. It wasn’t even that bad—”

“It was,” he interjects. “This company doesn’t tolerate people who abuse their power. I only knew about your case because I’m thorough with my work. And that includes looking into my staff and their past. I did it for everyone,” he lies as well.

Hoseok and Yoongi had mentioned something about a past experience and Jungkook did dig deep. It was so he could help you professionally, he convinced himself.

“You should also know that I don’t make compromises when it comes to the quality of work of my staff and that means I don’t pity people if they fail to meet my standards. But I suppose you think that I do because of how I was in the beginning,” he continues, surprising you. “I admit I was being too critical. And I don’t have an excuse, just that I absolutely hate change. I’m not good at managing it and I reacted in a way that I’m used to, which is not a good way at all. I know now that I was not fair to you.”

The apology doesn’t come, but you know that the admission means enough already. It’s definitely taken a huge burden off of you. You didn’t dream up all those incidents and it wasn’t entirely on you. That itself gives you relief.

“My father and cousin were right. You’re a fast learner. You pick up on the comments, work on them immediately, and adjust accordingly. It’s a good trait to have, Ms. Cho.”

“I appreciate that, Mr. Jeon.”

“May I be honest, too?” He asks, surprising you again.

You nod, anticipating what he’d say, knowing he’s never been this quiet nor looked this nervous in all these weeks you’ve known him.

“What you said to my father about the Arts Center the other day, I appreciate that, too,” he says. “I guess you could’ve said something general or basic but you didn’t.”

“Your father wouldn’t have minded what I said,” you reply. “What mattered was how I said it. I guess as the person who’s privy to a lot of things about the project, he sincerely wanted to know what I thought about it, if I genuinely believed in it.”

“Well, it was a good way to convince him. And it seemed like he believed you.”

“I’m not a good actor, Mr. Jeon,” you chuckle. “He believed it because I meant it. And he saw that I was on your side. As I should. I still meant it, though.”

“That’s… encouraging,” he huffs. “At least one person is.”

“I’m sure he does, too.”

“It’s ironic that people like Mr. Ri think that my father and I are so alike, yet we don’t see eye to eye most of the time.”

“It’s because you are alike. You both think you’re right all the time,” you joke, teetering on the edge and sighing in relief when he laughs, a sound you don’t think you’ve ever heard.

“You make a good point,” he smiles a tiny bit, something you also don’t think you’ve ever seen him do. “But I’m still adjusting to working directly with him, and in a bigger role, too. We'll probably butt heads a lot.”

“You will. I already know it. In fact, I can already see it,” you laugh again.

It’s a moment you share with him that you didn’t imagine you ever would. He’s being honest about his concerns and you’re giving comfort in the way you know how and neither of you seems to mind.

“I’m… I’m gonna need your help, Ms. Cho,” he says so softly, his eyes turning away from you. “I’m gonna need your assistance. Not just in seeing the Arts Center through but in everything - navigating this role, dealing with my father, dealing with people. I… I know what I’m good at. So I don’t really focus on the things I don’t do well in but this position forces me to confront those and I… I’ll need help.”

For someone who doesn’t seem to like being vulnerable in front of others, seeing this side of Jungkook makes you sympathetic. The soft tone of his voice, the lack of eye contact, the crossed arms… they’re familiar because it’s how you are, and you know it’s difficult to be this honest with another person, especially when it’s about what you need.

More than wanting to help him because it’s your job, you find yourself wanting to see him succeed, too, to see him manage it all. That way, when you do eventually leave the company and search whatever it is you’re looking for, you can rest easy knowing that he’ll be okay, that the team will be okay, that the Arts Center will be all that he imagined it to be.

“I’m here, Mr. Jeon,” you assure him. “I’ll do my best to provide you with the assistance you need.”

“Thank you,” he mutters, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say those words with such sincerity to you, too.

You bow in acknowledgement and head out, leaving Jungkook in a haze, as he realizes that in your presence, he’d done what he's been trying to avoid ever since you walked in his life - be honest. He’d told you his concerns, his needs, and it seems that his honesty is something you appreciated as well. There was that acceptance that he wouldn’t have expected from you, not because you aren’t the type to give it but because he hasn’t given you a reason to. But you gave it regardless; you let him feel that it was okay.

It’s another half hour before he’s packing up to head home. It’s been a tiring week and he just wants to have a long bath, watch sports, and drink a cold beer over grilled meat. He’ll probably get some work done but maybe he’ll drive to some resort out of town, have a good workout, get in a sauna, and have a massage. He’ll have a nice meal with his friends and then go to a club. Or maybe he’ll just stay in. There’s something about being honest that makes him want to keep to himself for a while. He’ll start with that tonight, as he turns down Taehyung’s invite to another one of his client’s party.

Jungkook walks out and sees your desk empty, but he does hear your voice coming from the management support team’s room, telling them about your weekend plans as well.

“I’m going to the film festival in Incheon,” you say. “And probably just stay at a hostel.”

“Are you going by yourself?” Do-hyun asks.

“Uh, yeah,” you reply.

Hajoon was supposed to go with you. He invited himself, actually, and you should’ve read into the fact that he’d wanted to experience your interests with you. You hadn’t minded, and that’s clearly out of the picture now.

“I usually go to them by myself,” you add.

“Well, if you decide you want to invite one of us or hang out, you can always let us know,” Chin-sun teases, knowing you probably won’t.

“Let’s wait until we’re not too tired and busy, okay?” You chuckle. “That way, we can afford to do whatever we want on the weekends.”

“Yup, that’ll probably never happen,” Do-hyun pouts. “When are we not tired and busy? It’s probably worse this time because we don’t get to laugh and joke around like we used to. Are we even getting a holiday? Will we have an out-of-town team building? Or dinners and karaoke like how Mr. Jung used to treat us to?”

“The team-building is budgeted so yes, we’ll have it,” you tell them. “And dinners? I can maybe suggest that to Mr. Jeon. And come on, no one’s stopping you from laughing or joking around. You can still do all that.”

“Yeah, but sometimes I feel like I’m not allowed to because it might seem like I’m not serious about my job because our boss is too serious and it doesn’t seem right,” Do-hyun whines.

And for the first time, you feel genuinely bad for how they think about Jungkook. You don’t blame them though, but the man you saw earlier who broke into a small smile is definitely capable of laughter; you just don’t know how to elicit it from him again.

“He’s just been under a lot of pressure, but he doesn’t prohibit you from finding joy in anything,” you say. “Just… give him some time, okay? He’ll come around. Let’s just focus on our work and then focus on ourselves when the weekend comes. So all of you, pack up now and go home to your families and your pets. We’ve got a long few weeks ahead.”

Jungkook hears a collective okay then heads out right away, the initial thought of saying goodbye to the team having dissipated. He can’t blame them for voicing out their frustrations over the change in how they’re being managed. Hoseok was loved. He built a competent team whose spirit Jungkook is afraid he’s now breaking. But he’s not like his cousin, and he doesn’t know how to reach out to them in a way that’s genuine. He let the pressure get to him too much early on and while he’s not the type to forge connections with his staff, he’s seeing now how important it is for him as Vice President to do that.

But it’s too much to think about for today. He’ll let this affect him a little bit and then figure things out. Based on what he heard though, he’s not on his own. You were on his side again, even when you thought he wasn’t around. There’s something about the way you stand up to him and stand by him that’s refreshing. There’s honesty there, too, and he’s learning that it’s what he needs.

He makes it to the elevator but then holds the door once he hears rapid footsteps. You mutter your thanks as you enter, and he feels the tension build as you’re together after the exchange earlier. He hasn’t gotten over that yet, so he’s unsure how to talk with you.

It seems like so are you, as you drum your fingers on the strap of your bag and focus on the door while you both wait to make it to the ground floor. Jungkook is tempted to offer you a ride with him but he decides against it. Even then, he slows his steps so he could walk alongside you, as you both head out the main doors.

“Get some rest, Mr. Jeon,” you finally say. “And have a good weekend.”

You look at him with sincerity in your eyes, your smile soft and assuring, something he’s never seen you direct at him before. It’s even different from earlier. There’s more understanding, he thinks. Perhaps there’s care.

“You, too, Ms. Cho,” he replies before entering the car. “Get home safely.”

You bow to him and wave at Mr. Ri before walking down the pathway to the street that leads towards the bus stop.

Jungkook lets himself be comfortable in the seat while he forces the image of your smile out of his head. The sun has set and it’s Seoul at its busiest on another hot Friday evening. There are more cars than usual and so movement is slow, but that’s how he sees you - walking down the sidewalk in the midst of all these people. And there you are, somehow looking at peace. There’s an air of isolation that surrounds you, but you don’t look lonely. Just… alone. There’s still that warmth in your eyes and your smile that he finds himself wanting to see more of.

This is when he realizes he might be in trouble. There’s a line he shouldn’t cross, but there’s this desire to get to know you, to know your thoughts and your feelings and your words. He reminds himself that he needs you, in a way that an authority figure needs support and assistance. He needs you to be focused and capable, and he needs to be the same.

With his attraction that he can’t get over, he knows that the only way to make sure that he keeps things professional is to keep his distance - not just physically, but more so emotionally. You’ll definitely be spending more time together and he needs to constantly remind himself of who you are and who he is. That much as he feels safe and honest with you, he can’t go any further; he can’t let you get any closer. He doesn’t know how he’ll do it, but that’s one other thing he’ll figure out.

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Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter ii

✒ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader

genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, fighting, confrontation, tornado of emotions, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world, public shaming (both direct and indirect), morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of abandonment issues, mentions of therapy, attempts to self-regulate but reader is pissed, mentions of self-blame though oc knows its not entirely her fault, mentions of defamation charges, JK is just 🤬 while KTH is 😇

playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.

a/n: Woah okay....so had I fun writing this, even though it took me a hella long time to decide whether to continue the story as a series or not 🫣 Anyway I altered the summary slightly from chapter one (and updated for consistency purposes), but it doesn't change my overall plans! As you read this chapter, I hope you will be able to see my vision (I'm nervous af! haha)! Enjoy 🥰 (edited but pls forgive me for any oversights...my typos are ridiculous)

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You’re seated in a wide sofa chair, surrounded by four blank walls, and the gentle sound of water tricking from a faux rock waterfall. Every element of the space is carefully integrated as a means to calm you. Yet it doesn't calm you in the slightest. Your hands are clammy. Muscles tense with the adrenaline spiking through your veins. It doesn’t help that you’ve been running on nothing but black coffee all week either, refusing to eat until the first promo shoot with your company’s new endorser was launched.

A natural in front of the camera, Kim Taehyung was able to speed the process up, yet it didn’t stop the massive dark circles from forming under your eyes. This morning, he'd told you they were unnoticeable but you've seen how you look in the mirror, and they're anything but unnoticeable. Still, you find his gesture to soothe sweet. Thankfully, your new partnership has been smooth sailing which is quite a blessing considering the disaster he nearly walked into.

Yes. You’re referring to that disaster in particular. When, in some desperate last-minute attempt for validation, you threw yourself into the arms of your ex-husband.

More like fixed the collar of his shirt and whoops, slid right on his dick…again.

What is wrong with you?

You’ve been asking yourself the question far too many times. You’d think being a hot-shot CEO of a million-dollar tech company would make you like titanium, resilient as finely pounded steel but no; you're just barely keeping yourself together. You regret your rash decision that day, you regret ever marrying Jeon Jungkook, and you regret ever giving in to your stupid feelings.

That’s why you’re here now, waiting in the office of your therapist’s private practice, hands restless in your lap. You’ve been seeing Melody for just over two months since your divorce was finalized, ready to move on; trying to, more like.

‘JeonX CEO Jeon Jungkook’s ex-wife compensated $1.8 billion in divorce’

‘South Korea’s Golden It couple split with ex-wife taking half the company revenue’

These are the lovely words that greet you from your phone screen.

You have the urge to grab your special red ballpoint pen from your bag and scribble out the entire paragraph, except it’s not a printed gossip magazine— it’s a newspaper column on the internet. Instead, you close out the pesky tab on your phone and reply to its sender.

Chim 🐥: can you believe this crap they’re saying about you?! It's no shit you were given a hefty divorce settlement. You brought in half the income! They’re making you look like some kind of gold digger. I swear if I ever lay my eyes on that pretty ex-husband of yours, I will end him! 😡 [sent at 5:06 pm]

Park Jimin, your childhood best friend, sends you a follow-up text when you don’t immediately reply to the news articles he forwarded over. He’s been extremely overprotective of you lately and especially pissed at how the media’s been portraying you, while Jungkook is seemingly getting a free ride. He’s always had an axe to grind with your ex-husband, to be honest, the divorce gives him only more reason to hate him.

You: Thanks for your concern Chim, but nothing they say surprises me anymore. If you don’t mind, can you stop sending these to me? [sent at 5:12 pm]

You hope your message doesn’t read as cold or dismissive. Jimin’s concern for you is a light in a dark place, but you don’t really want to be reminded of the amount of slandering articles still targeted towards you.

Gone are the days when the public saw you as a powerful woman in business, the one to watch, or the CEO of the fastest-growing startup in the last ten years. You're now simply Jeon Jungkook’s conniving ex-wife; as if you’ve merely seduced him for his money and ran when the going was good.

Of course, the whole situation is skewed to his side; half the world is in love with him after all, and that includes the few lingering reporters who've been practically salivating three feet from you at any given chance, hoping to get an exclusive “inside look”. Your marriage was a sham, you wanted to scream, a mutual business transaction.

Too bad rather than an increase in status, resources, and market share, you gained a pile of twisted, unwarranted emotions and regrets.

“I apologize for the wait Ms. __."

The door swings open as your therapist rushes into the room. She stops at her desk to retrieve last week’s session notes, then takes a seat in the chair adjacent to you with crossed legs.

“It’s okay,” you assure, straightening your posture. “I understand how crazy busy the day can get. It wasn't a long wait anyway."

Melody gives a small smile and jots a few words on her notepad. “Thank you for understanding. How are you doing this week?”

You take a deep breath. "Tired," you respond, "especially this week at work. It's like as soon as I wrap up one project, there's another jumping out from nowhere." You used to be ahead of the game. Now you're barely surviving.

"That's right," she hums. "Last week you mentioned having to attend a charity gala soon. Would you like to start there today?"

Crap, you're suddenly reminded that you have to pick up your gown by 7 pm tonight. You entertained the idea of not going to the gala at all, but that would do you no favors in the end. Given your situation, you can't skip out on such an important charity event.

"Sure," you nod. "The Winter Gala's tomorrow night, actually. It's funny how I used to look forward to it every year, being an opportunity to network and catch up with my peers. I can't say I feel the same thrill this time around."

"Because of the divorce you mean?"

"Exactly. Being the CEO of one of the largest software corporations in the world, my ex-husband's influence far exceeds my own. So whether out of loyalty or political agenda, anyone who's anyone will be on his side of the room. I'm gonna end up being that one awkward person in the corner in a far too expensive Dior gown who no one wants to dance with." You nervously chuckle out the last sentence.

Melody opens her mouth to respond, yet stops when she notices you're not quite finished.

"It'll be the first time seeing my ex-husband after months of no contact too. I guess that's what I'm looking forward to the least."

When you think about it, the most you've seen of Jungkook is his face appearing on the massive screens downtown. He's been featured in at least a dozen interviews lately, teasing a brand-new product his company's planning to release in the spring. Seems he's doing well.

"What you feel is valid Ms. __." Melody seeks to assure you. "In the past, you used to go to these events with Jungkook right? He provided you with a sense of safety, as you did for him, no doubt. I wonder if it's a lack of consistency and belonging that worries you, more than it is about seeing your ex-husband and your peers. Companionship too, of course."

"I suppose that makes sense, but it never used to be this way." Your voice raises to match your sudden argumentativeness. "I used to be very comfortable in my own skin. I used to be confident going to these events alone, long before Jungkook came into the picture."

You pause to take a breath before continuing.

"When Jungkook became CEO of his family's software company, JeonX, he was steps away from being bought out by both our competitors, so a partnership was proposed. We married at 27 as nothing more than two ambitious, rising leaders in business. Neither of us was after love or romance when our careers were at stake."

"But then that changed for you," your therapist carefully observes. "Combined, you both held the largest share of the tech market. You and Jungkook were also in an extremely intimate relationship, yet treated it as a business contract. Unfortunately, those don't always come out clean in the wash. It appears to me that while you gave him three honest years of your life, he stole those three years from you."

The words take a moment to sink in; Jungkook stole three years from you. It conflicts with what you want to believe, though from the bottom of your heart, you know she's right.

"I feel so...guilty. I hate that I fell for him, and I hate that I'm struggling this much to let him go." As you tear up, Melody hands you a tissue from the side table with an empathetic gaze. You mouth a thank you and gently dab your eyes with the soft fabric.

"I'd give yourself some grace Ms. __. But if I may ask, what about Jungkook?" she gently probes. "Do you think he feels the same?"

"No...," you say with remorse, shaking your head. "He's moved on."

Melody remains silent for as long as you need in the moments following, cautious to follow your lead. The last thing a therapist should do is rush their patient through the session, so she sits patiently and waits for your go.

"Sorry," you finally say. "We should continue."

"No need for apologies," she replies. "Take your time."

It takes a good minute or two longer of sitting in your car before you can fully compose yourself. As usual, your session with Melody was intense and insightful, but it was far too short. You're gripping the wheel with both hands when her final words of the session echo through your head: "Give yourself some grace; blaming yourself won't do any good."

Seemingly simple advice, yet tough to follow when you constantly feel responsible for the mess you're in. Yes, even though Jungkook has the bigger end of the stick, you made your share of mistakes too. You should have looked into other options when you found out your competitors were looking to buy out JeonX instead of eloping with their CEO.

Just what were you thinking __? you harshly scold yourself. You were trying to protect your company. You both were. Too bad you placed the cart in front of the horse.

Forcing yourself to take a slow, deep breath, your eyes widen in alarm when you catch the time on the clock— 6:38 pm. Fuck! The boutique that's holding your gown for tomorrow's gala is closing in twenty minutes. Without a moment to spare, you yank the seatbelt and slam your foot on the gas.

"Good evening Ms. __." A young woman, fitted in a black pencil skirt and white blouse, greets you with a faint bow as soon as you step foot into the posh boutique.

"Hello, Hana," you refer to the young lady by name with a smile. "I'm terribly sorry to be coming in this late. I came by to pick up the gown I sent in for alterations two weeks ago. The event's tomorrow and I know the shop will be closed for the day."

Knowing the exact dress you're referring to, Hana responds with a soft tone, "Please don't worry Ms. __. We have the gown ready." She disappears to the back of the shop to retrieve it.

As you wait, your mind drifts to memories of last year's gala. You had worn a vibrant, gold gown that evening, slightly risky with a low neckline. Jungkook liked it though, as he wore a matching gold vest himself. You can imagine how crazy the press went when you both set foot on the scene, arms linked and appearing to have coordinated your attire perfectly.

Every investor at the gig wanted to be your friend that night, anxiously pushing through the crowds to speak to you. One of them nearly split your dress in two, as he had accidentally stepped on your gown after one too many drinks. You recall Jungkook scolding the man before turning his full attention to you, making sure you were alright. You consider this to be the first time you truly started looking at him as your husband, a feeling of warmth blooming inside you.

How foolish you were to let that feeling grow.

You're attending the gala alone this year, without him.

Possessing no desire to call attention to yourself this year, you've chosen a rich, navy blue gown instead. It's subtle yet sophisticated. Made out of the finest silk, its silhouette is sleek and falls straight down to the floor without any extravagant frills. The neckline is simple too, paired with a tasteful open back. There are no flashy accessories or embellishments, just a straightforward, classic design. You find the gown beautifully elegant, and nowhere near as bold as your previous one.

"Here it is Ms. __," Hana chips from afar, her heels clacking against the polished floor tiles. In her hand is a generously sized garment bag, your dress flowing underneath.

"Thank you so much, Hana," you say, taking the gown from her hand. "Again, I'm sorry for my tardiness picking this up. I hope you have a wonderful night."

You leave the boutique, the sun having already set.

The Winter Gala takes place on the top floor of Seoul's most luxurious hotel, specifically in its grand ballroom. The walls are adorned with gold trim, and its floors are elegantly lined with polished black marble. Above, a magnificent glass chandelier glimmers, catching the moonlight filtering through the surrounding glass windows.

Despite being a private event, the gala attracts a whole slew of press and locals who eagerly gather on either side of the hotel's front doors, treating it as a prime spot for viewing the red carpet.

Physically, you're ready; dressed to the nines, and makeup done just right. Mentally, you're absent; secretly sipping a margarita at the end of the earth, wherever that is. The day finally comes for you to make an appearance at the Annual Winter Gala and it's clear, you're not prepared in the slightest.

Your nerves consume you as you sit in the backseat of your limousine. You protested against being dropped off at the front entrance. Hell, you hadn't even wanted to arrive in a limo. However, your PR team insisted you be seen arriving, happy to be supporting a charitable event for the eighth year in a row.

Reluctantly, you complied.

Chim 🐥: I wish I could be there with you tonight 😞 No matter what, don't let those snobs get into your head. You look stunning and you have nothing to be ashamed of! [sent at 6:23 pm]

"Thank you, love," you whisper to aloud upon reading your best friend's endearing message. Before you can craft a reply, your door is flung open, with harsh flashes of cameras blinding you. When you step out of the limo, you hear a mix of passionate cheering and interrogative remarks.

"Ms. __, could you share with us your experience of attending the gala without Jeon Jungkook by your side for the first time?"

"Ms. __, it's unexpected to see you here this year, especially considering your recent separation from your ex-husband, who is also on the guest list!"

"Ms. __, how do you plan to navigate the evening's festivities without the familiar presence of your former partner?"

Just keep walking __. If you can just get inside the building and tune out the noise, you'll be fine. You coach yourself with every step, but make little progress with the amount of discomfort only skyrocketing. Your photos are being taken, and questions barrage you from all angles. To top it off, you feel a strong migraine coming on and oh fuck— is that the devil now?

You don't have to glance back to guess the sudden increase in cheering is due to the arrival of another hot A-lister. It has to be Jungkook with a new woman by his side. You think he wouldn't bring a date to an event like this, even if she were a hire? You'd be horribly mistaken.

You fight against the urge to turn around and confirm if your suspicions are true.

"__!" a voice calls out, which you ignore.

But wait a minute.

You stop in your tracks—that's not Jungkook's voice at all; it’s far too raspy.

Peeking over your shoulder, your jaw falls open as you see Kim Taehyung steps behind you wearing a boxy grin on his face. He's dressed to the hills with a shiny maroon, Louis Vuitton suit hugging his slim waist. Quite handsome, per usual, but what is he doing here?

Taking the initiative, Taehyung strides next to you and waves to the crowd charismatically. “My movie shoot wrapped up early so I thought I’d swing by and see what all the excitement’s about,” he says.

You observe how easy it is for him to appease the crowd, a skill you’re still working to sharpen.

“Tae-” you begin.

He then turns to you and looks straight into your eyes. You shiver at from the sudden intensity.

“I got an invitation too, and the gala happens to support a cause that I find close to my heart.” His voice lowers for the next part, allowing only your ears to hear. “I also didn’t want you having to be alone this evening, __. I hope I didn’t overstep my boundaries.”

Taehyung’s words manage to coax you away from your previously frazzled state, comforting you as the chaos quiets around you.

“Thank you, Taehyung. You didn’t, don’t worry,” you reply, giving a tight-lipped smile. “It’s actually a good thing you came since you’re basically the second face of my company after all.”

“I’m happy to hear that. We’ve been working so well together recently, and I don’t want to ruin it. May I?” He offers you an arm.

“You may.” You slip your arm into his and continue towards the hotel entrance. You admit you’re glad to see him.

With Taehyung nearby, your apprehensions of the night start to subside. He’s not always beside you, slipping away to mingle often, yet his mere presence relaxes you. You haven’t even thought about Jungkook to be honest. Well, maybe a little bit.

You take a sip of the drink in your hand and casually scan the ballroom until bingo, you spot your ex-husband by the bar in the middle of half a dozen people. Figures he’s the center of attention, effortlessly tethering people to himself. Jungkook loves the spotlight, and the spotlight loves him. As you continue watching him from across the room, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions swirls within you; longing, sorrow, anger. You haven't seen him in over two months, it feels surreal.

Memories of your time together come flooding back all at once—both the good and the bad, yet mostly bad. It's strange how someone you were once so close to can suddenly feel like a stranger. You allow your gaze to linger a moment longer, curious to conclude a date is nowhere in sight. Perhaps you’re mistaken and they’ve merely slipped away for a second. You’re positive he would’ve brought someone.

Bitterly, you gulp down another sip of your drink. When you place your glass down, you nearly choke at the sight of Jungkook's dark eyes burning holes at you. You avert your gaze immediately, silently begging that he didn’t just witness you staring at him and take it as an unsolicited invitation to come over.

“So,” a provocative voice unexpectedly slides next to you. “Looks like you just traded one bachelor for the next __. I’m shocked to see you’ve shown up to our little soirée.”

Oh god, you roll your eyes, recognizing the owner of the slithery voice like the back of your hand. You do not have the stamina for this tonight.

“Kathy," you greet with the fakest, yet sweetest smile possible. "Nice seeing you again. I haven't seen you since last year. How's the baby?"

"Oh please," she scoffs. "Don't try to deflect, sweetie. We both know it's you who is of far more... intrigue. If you understand my gist."

You want to hurl at this woman's condescending tone. Nothing gets under your skin more than someone your age calling you sweetie. It's not endearing in the slightest, especially when it's Kathy Lee, Director of CommaTen. You despise each other, likely because you both hit it big in the industry at a young age. Meeting someone who reminds you so closely of yourself isn't always a blessing.

“Anyway, as I was saying," she continues, brushing her hair behind an ear. "I have quite the bone to pick with you about stealing that actor from me. Kim Taehyung was mine first, you know."

Hers? She speaks as if a person can be owned. You won't lie, you're surprised Taehyung agreed to partner with you at a time when most of Seoul's elites have turned against you. You're naive to assume that his support wouldn't backfire on his reputation. On the other hand, he's been your endorser for two months now and his following remains fully intact.

“To be frank, I didn't know the two of you were talking business at all," you respond to the accusations with composure, though burning up inside. "But of course, he's free to make his own decisions, can't he? Whatever the reason, something must have enticed him."

“You—" Offended by your insinuation that your offer was better than hers, Kathy doesn't stop what comes next. "We both know the only reason why Kim Taehyung's with you is because Jungkook left you! And you need the extra publicity, isn't that right?"

Fuck. Well, now you're really fucking embarrassed because, at that moment, everyone in the room shifts their attention your way. A pin drop could be heard in the entire ballroom since even the live band ceased their playing.

This is why you didn't want to come. Your fingers fumble with the fabric of your gown.

“Don't act like you're above me just because your company might be worth more than mine, __. We'll catch up with you soon," Kathy spits her final words before spinning around and triumphantly walking away.

Don't cry, you tell yourself. Everyone's staring at you; the press, your peers, Jungkook, and Taehyung. Don't you dare cry.

As the murmurs of conversation gradually resume around you, you force yourself to take a deep, steadying breath. Kathy's words were nothing but a feeble attempt to save her own face. Besides, what company doesn't have at least one endorser?

"Are you alright?" Taehyung's low, gentle voice catches your attention as he swiftly returns to your side, no doubt influenced after witnessing Kathy's verbal jab.

You manage a tight-lipped smile, nodding faintly as you attempt to push back the overwhelming wave of humiliation. "I will be," you reply, though the words feel hollow even to your own ears.

His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer, a silent understanding passing between you.

"I hope you don't take her words to heart, __," he mutters. "I chose to become your partner because I genuinely believe in your product. I'm selective about who I support, so please trust me when I say it wasn't because of material gain or pity."

You're on the verge of responding to his reassurance when you catch sight of your ex-husband from the corner of your eye, striding his way over to you for the first time tonight. His expression is unreadable, so you brace yourself, unsure of what to expect.

"__," he starts, his voice low but carrying an unmistakable urgency. "Can we talk?"

You and Taehyung share a quick glance before you follow Jungkook out of the ballroom, seeking privacy.

As soon as you're out of earshot, Jungkook turns to you, his features softened by a hint of concern. "Hey," he starts. "I meant to get over to you sooner but got tied up. You know how it is."

"Yeah, I know," you respond, though you'd rather he didn't come over at all, especially after being dragged into the spotlight in front of all your peers and colleagues.

The two of you share an unsettling silence before he speaks again.

"You-You look good." He allows his eyes to rake up and down your body, causing you to cross your arms in discomfort. There was a time when his gaze brought a flutter of excitement, but now, you're not so sure it brings you the same pleasure.

"I'm sorry for what happened in there," he says. "You okay?"

"What?" you repeat, your eyes wide with surprise, stunned by his unexpected apology. "Am I okay?"

Where was this concern when he handed you the divorce papers nine months ago? Or when he willingly took advantage of your vulnerability that time in your office, only to disappear afterward, as if he hadn't just torn your heart out of your chest? You clench your fists, trying to contain the rising temperature of your anger.

"Yeah, about what she said about you," he clarifies. "It was uncalled for, and I feel horrible about it." He reaches out to touch you, but you instinctively step back, as if his touch would scorch you.

"Please, don't," you sigh, a trace of weariness in your voice. "It's fine."

"I'm serious __, I can have her charged with defamation for that. It wouldn't take much!" His insistence is unwavering, and it strikes your last nerve.

"You don't need to fight my battles for me, Jungkook," you suddenly snap, voice stern. "I'm not completely helpless now that you've divorced me!"

Jungkook's expression darkens, regret flickering in his eyes. "I'm not saying you are. I'm just trying to help."

"Help?" you repeat, doubtful. "How do you think that's going to look for me in the media? Jeon Jungkook slaps another high society member with a defamation charge for ex-wife. Thanks, but no thanks. I get enough of that as is."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know they've been difficult on you recentl—"

"Difficult?" you interject, your anger bubbling to the surface. "In case you haven't noticed my face is on every gossip magazine, billboard, press release, and anything else they can use to scorn me with. It's unbearable, especially since I still have a business to run."

Jungkook winces, clearly stung by your words. "Then let me help. I'll get them removed for you. I still care about you, __."

You scoff. "You care about me? Is that why you made me sign our divorce papers three months after you found out I wanted more than a fake marriage?"

His jaw clenches, gaze dropping to the floor guiltily. "It's not like that, __. I'm not trying to be an avoidant asshole. I want you to-"

"Find someone else. Yeah, I got it," you mutter bitterly, feeling a fresh wave of hurt wash over you.

"I'm sorry, __. I am."

You stare at him, torn between resentment and a lingering ache for the connection you once shared. Now, he's apologizing?

"So am I," you say, slowly backing away from him. "You don't have to do anything, Jungkook. I'm fine."

You then turn on your heels to return to the ballroom where Taehyung still waits for you, leaving your ex-husband standing in the hallway, alone.

a/n: A much-needed confrontation between oc and jk eh? But... *laughs evilly*..this is not the end...LMK what you think! 🤔🤍

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zyafics · 1 month

Text

play fake | part four

series play fake — ( masterlist )

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole

zya's notes thank u for all your lovely comments and reblogs, i love reading them sm! this one is going to be a long one too, so please enjoy <3

dedication also, this chapter is for @rivaiken iykyk ;)

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚

The next couple of days have been radio silence. You don't try to communicate with Rafe and he doesn't try to communicate with you. You just throw yourself into your work, scolding to yourself how this was such a bad idea.

It wasn't meant to be a fuck relationship. It was meant to be fake. Nothing more than public displays of affection and going on to ignore each other behind the scenes. Rafe, himself, said that he wanted to continue doing all the shit he's doing now, just with you as a shielded layer of protection against his father.

Whenever you think back to that moment in the country club bathroom, your stomach recoils. Not because of the sex, but because of how willing you are. You always saw yourself as an independent person. Someone who can handle your own needs. You had to be; you grew up with no parental guidance and raised two younger sisters. You take care of people, you think of others. You handle everything yourself.

But you remember you were deep on your knees, ready to give him anything; when you were splay against the counter, begging him to make you come. God, you feel embarrassed by your own desire.

Maybe it's the control. Maybe it's because you're so used to it in the real world, for once, you want to give the reins to someone else. Especially in the bedroom. And Rafe perfectly takes it.

The only problem is he doesn't give it back.

Asshole.

You're behind the counter, telling Miranda about the new backlog of orders that the system hasn't placed, and a spill in one of the corners, when the bell rings, signaling the entrance of another customer.

"I'll be right with you!" You shout over your shoulders, quickly summarizing the last of the tasks for Miranda before turning to the new customer who walked in.

You plastered on your service smile, ready to take their orders.

Only to realize it was Rafe.

Your smile drops.

"What do you want, Rafe?" You ask pointedly, setting the towel down on the counter as he slides into the seat before you, a casual demeanor to his own presence.

"I need you to play the part again." He says, without so much as an apology or acknowledgement to what happened the other night. "It worked. My dad likes you."

"That's great," your voice is empty of emotions. "Are you coming here to tell me about what a perfect plan you made?"

"No," he shakes his head. "I need you to attend a party with me."

"Business?"

"No, at my house."

Your answer is immediate. "No," you say, shaking your head. "Can't make it."

"You don't even know what it is about."

"Let me guess," you cross your arms, pretending to ponder. "Your dad trusts you enough with me, so if he sees you and me at your party, he would assume I'll be able to control you and you won't push yourself over the edge?"

His reply is silent. That's how you know you're right.

"Guess my Pogue brain caught up fast enough."

You turn around to grab a small glass, pouring out a shot of tequila on the table before tipping your head backwards and taking it all in without a chaser. You need it for whatever this conservation is about to go. "I won't be able to go. I have a double shift."

"I haven't told you the day yet."

"I have double shifts all week," you declare sharply, the bitter taste burning your throat. You squint your eyes for a moment, readjusting, before you find his gaze again.

"I'll pay you."

"God, is this party that important?" You huff out of astonishment at his persistence. "The answer is still no. I don't want your money."

Rafe's brows furrow together. He doesn't understand why you're acting so cold to him. He came in with a good proposition; you wouldn't have to do any of those silly dinners with his father, all you had to do was make an appearance at a party long enough to satiate Ward and then you can do whatever the hell you want. Why are you being so difficult?

"What the fuck is your problem? Why do you have such an attitude?"

You laugh, abruptly, because this is so ironic and humorous to you that the sound rips out. The reckless prince, the man who received a collegiate degree from UNC Chapel Hill doesn't know what a Pogue is thinking.

You don't answer him, deciding to take one of the tasks off of Miranda's hands and clean up the spill yourself. It’s better than being cornered by Rafe. You move to the other side of the counter for the flip-door exit, stepping out from behind the booth.

Heading to the back to grab the supplies, Rafe follows you. Once you step into the backdoor, grabbing the mop, he slips in behind you, blocking the exit.

"You gonna talk or just avoid me all day again?"

You scoff. "That's rich coming from you."

His forehead wrinkles. He truly doesn't know. "What the fuck are you goin' on about?"

Having enough, you throw your arms out in frustration. "I'm talking about the fact that you're the one who fucked me in a bathroom after some problem with your dad," you snap, lashing out from all your pent-up anger. "You refused to talk to me. All you did was used me as your fucking toy."

He staggers back for a moment. Before a cruel smile appears on his lips.

"I remember you were begging for it."

You slap him.

It was so unprecedented, without thought, that it shocked the both of you. The next few seconds were quiet, too quiet, like it was a live wire waiting to spark.

Your voice is calm, almost deadly. "I want you to leave."

His anger comes back tenfold. It's almost a match made in hell; how your rage matches his, how he doesn't back down—but neither do you.

You were going to drive each other insane.

And some sick part of you liked it.

"When have I ever fucking talked to you, Pogue?" He snaps back with dark fury. "We're barely even friends. If I want to fuck you, and you let me, I'm taking it."

"Whenever you had a problem with your dad, you came to me, in this bar," you gesture out to the door. "You talked. I listened. That was the deal."

"We never said that in our relationship."

"Well, I'm putting it in," you declare. Approaching him, stepping a foot closer to close in the distance between the two of you. He doesn't move. He doesn't waver. He watches your step with heavy breathes, dark eyes. In a low breath, you warn, "you want to fuck other people? Fine. I don't care. You do that. They aren't the ones sticking with you, helping you with your dad. They don't have to carry the weight of you being you."

You know the last line was a hard hit, but it was true. You were tired of being seen as another Pogue, someone on the bottom of the litter meant to be used and thrown away. You need to make your stance firm.

"But if you want to fuck me," you conclude, pointing to yourself, "you talk to me, first."

He says nothing. Your anger is filling your adrenaline. It could also be the tequila. Whatever it is, you don't know what provoked you to say the next sentence.

"I wasn't on the pill, goddammit."

For a moment, sobriety reigns over Rafe's features. His eyes widened. "Did you—"

"I bought a Plan B, you asshole." You cut him off, not wanting him to think you're too stupid to think of the consequences. You knew. That's why you told him to pull out. "I wasn't going to carry your babies in me. But, it was expensive. Do you know how much that cost out of my paycheck?"

To him, that may seem like nothing. Nothing more than scraps rolling around his room, in his pockets that he could spare. But for you? That's money that could've gone to paying off your debt, to helping Sailor, to taking care of your siblings.

He remains silent.

You continue.

"You cover for me however you want. You host that party if you want to so fucking badly. But I can't do it. I have work."

You push past Rafe and he lets you, grabbing the mop out of the corner and stepping back into the open atmosphere of your bar. You may hate the noise that comes from the place, but it was better than being suffocated in a room with him.

Rafe quietly follows after you after you return behind the counter.

He looked like he wanted to say something more, but his words were not coming out. His gaze flicks to you, jaw clenched.

"I... I didn't know," his voice is a whisper, almost indistinguishable, that you can't help but let out a bitter chuckle.

"Yeah," you agree. "Because you refused to talk to me."

He says nothing, muted by his own anger, looking down at his hands, before he walks out of the bar. He doesn't bid farewell and you don't expect him to. All you know is he's going to get shit-faced soon and you had nothing to do with it.

—

As you are helping your little sister with her math homework—where all her struggles were about multiplication tables and recognizing whether a fraction is improper—you miss the early days of your life. Where you don't have to think about anything else.

About the bills. About the loans. About how to take care of your siblings.

About a stupid Kook prince you can't get out of your mind.

Your baby sister is seated on the couch, reading some children's book that you made a couple of years ago, stringed together with yarns and colored pencils. Her delicate voice echoes through the joint living room, sounding out the words on her own as she heard you read them million of times before.

Your sister, Amara, pulls you back to reality as she taps your arm, pointing to her problem on the kitchen counter that she's struggling with. She points to the question, reciting her logic of how she got there, and you return with praising her thought process but reminding her of her multiplication tables.

"Ohhhh," her voice drags, giggling at the realization. "I see."

You chuckle softly, laying your chin on her small shoulder and picking up your phone off the counter. While she fixes her mistake, you scroll through social media.

A notification flashes at the top of your screen.

topperthornton: hey

Why the fuck is another Kook sliding into your DMs?

you: hello?

He quickly responds, asking if you are your name.

you: why?

topperthornton: idk if u know but rafe is hosting a party tn

you: so i heard

topperthornton: well, you should come

you: i don't think so, white boy

topperthornton: it's rafe.. he's asking about u

Something in your chest sputters. You pretend it's not your heart.

you: ?? for what

You hope you didn't come off too eager. You don't want to be. You should be pissed, goddammit, but something about knowing Rafe, drunk right now, is thinking about you, makes you weak.

You hate it.

topperthornton: idk what happened between the two of u but he's drunk and crossed out of his mind and he's just been rambling about u

You stare at the text for a hot minute, before another one follows.

topperthornton: u need to come immediately

Fucking hell.

You know you shouldn’t. You just came out of a long, tiresome shift. You have siblings to take care of. You have a math problem that has yet been corrected. But, something in your chest caves. The idea that Rafe needs help, that he's asking for you specifically, and you aren't coming? Makes you uneasy.

You have to go.

There's no other way around it.

Scrambling, you pull your Amara off your lap as you run out the door and race down the block. When you stop in front of Pope's house, you pound your fist against the door, praying someone is home.

It's Pope.

"Hey," he greets. "What's up?"

"I know this is last minute but I need you to watch the kids," you announce breathlessly. His eyes follow you, concerned.

"Everything okay?"

"It's fine," you wave off. "I just have to go somewhere and I don't know how long I'll be. Amara is doing her math homework and Leilani is just reading a book. They're really sweet, I promise."

Pope laughs you off casually. "I know," he says with a smile. "I've babysat them before."

"So," you string the words together slowly, hoping your anxiety isn't coming off too strong. You don't want Pope to feel obligated. "Can you... do it?"

He nods. "Of course. Pogues help each other out."

You smile, pulling him into a quick hug, before handing him the spare key to your house. He heads over to take care of your siblings while you run to your beaten-down car, reversing out the road.

When you arrived at Tannyhill, you truly underestimated how large the party was going to be. People crowded all over, dancing, swinging, just having a reckless and wild time at Rafe Cameron's place. While you know you should be slightly embarrassed by the long pajama pants and braless baggy tee you're wearing right now, feeling overdressed, you step out of the car and head inside.

Topper spots you at the porch.

"Thank God," he mumbles under his breath. "He's been out of it."

You wonder if Topper knows about your arrangement with Rafe.

"Yeah," you nod. "Where is he?"

"I put him in his room with some water but I gotta tell you, he's wasted. Some of the things he says... may not be tasteful."

You scoff. We've already crossed that bridge. "I think I'll be fine."

Without another word, Topper pulls away and you head up the familiar stairs of the estate, descending down the hallway you were here just days ago. It feels, for some reason, like a lifetime since you visited.

You knock on the door, twice, to no answer. Deciding to go for it—praying you won't walk into some lewd act—you step into the room to find it peacefully quiet. Rafe laid out on the mattress, his eyes closed.

You scan the room, trying to see if there's any destruction—any thrown chairs or broken bottles—to find everything in the same condition as you visited prior. The only difference is a pink bag, sitting in his drawer with a bouquet of flowers sticking out.

Your stomach twists in jealousy as you wonder who that could be for. At what fool is receiving such gifts or who gave him such.

When you peek inside, you notice a couple of things: a white envelope, a bundle of red tulips, and like ten-plus stacks of Plan B.

You stiffen your laugh. You realize the fool is you.

Butterflies erupt in your stomach.

The bed creaks and you jump at the sound, seeing Rafe pulling himself up on the mattress into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes to clear his vision, before he finds you, standing in front of him.

He says your name. He thinks he's hallucinating from the drugs.

"Yeah," you nod, cautiously approaching him as his glazed eyes follow your every move. "It's me."

"I thought you said you had a double shift."

He didn't mean for his words to come off so sharp.

"I locked up an hour ago." You explain, brushing past his aggravation.

Rafe nods at your explanation, but his movements are sluggish. Lag. He truly is out of it. You're surprised he went this hard.

His head hangs, staring at his lap, before he asks quietly. "What are you doing here?"

You shrug. You don't know either. You thought he needed help. The idea of him asking for you, but you weren't there for him, kills something inside of you. But, you can't say that. Not after everything you said to him. Not after what this relationship is based on.

You are nothing more than a fake girlfriend.

"Topper said you needed help," you evade any sense of responsibility. Of care. "He texted me."

His jaw clenches, and he looks up at you. "Top has your number?"

"No. He found my Instagram," you answer, wondering if that is jealousy you hear. But, you settle that it can't possibly be the case. "He DM'd me and I came over."

Now it's your turn to be vulnerable.

"I thought you needed help."

Rafe scoffs, bitterly, running a hand through his tousled hair. "Unless you can get this headache out of my heart, I don't think there's much you can do, sweetheart."

You nod, your feet shift to the door, ready to leave. If this is all, if that's all Topper is worried about, Rafe should be fine.

"Come here."

You find yourself listening. Again. Your feet pads against the hardwood floor as you streamline over to him, stopping just in front of his legs hanging off the ledge of the mattress. His head tilts up to meet your gaze; his cloudy blue eyes staring back at you. You bite back a thought.

"I know something that would make me feel better."

You scoff at the suggestive tone. "Let me guess: fuck?"

"Sit on my lap."

You hesitate for a moment. You don't want to be another fuck. But, when his hand lands on the side of your thigh, gentle and earnest, you relent.

Slowly, you settle onto Rafe's lap, both legs on either side of his waist. Your body facing him, and despite him in the lower position, he meets you at eye level.

"Better?" You tilt your head, watching his shoulders unwind every-so-slightly.

"Much." He murmurs, his eyes tracing your face. "God, you're gorgeous."

You flush, knocking a weak palm against his broad shoulder. "Shut up," you say, feeling anything but. You're wearing scraps for clothing, something you planned to go straight to bed—not attend an extravagant party hosted by one of the island's finest.

"I'm fucking serious." He snaps, but his voice doesn't have that hard edge. You blame that on the alcohol too. "I saw all those girls tonight. And yet, here you are, in your fucking pajamas and getting me hard."

You scoff, turning away. "So it does lead back to sex."

"No, it means that they pale in comparison to you," he cups your chin, gently, pulling your gaze back to him. "I'm serious, sweetheart. Believe me."

You're afraid that if you move up against his lap, coming closer, you would feel his erection. Not to mention, if you do, you don't know if you're going to start dry-humping him like you did the other day. But, you remain firm on your stance.

You're not going to let him fuck you unless he talks to you.

The atmosphere thins into a silence, as you take in the low hums of the downstairs party blasting in distant music.

"How was the party?" You ask, probing for a conversation starter. "Was it everything you dreamed of?"

He scoffs. "You're looking at it. I basically drank and smoked until I got sick."

His vices. At least you didn't have to hear about the women he hooked up with, if that's the case. Something deep inside of you hope there isn't.

You nod silently, finding your fingers tracing the outline of his shoulders, your nails scraping against his hot skin and trailing up the crook of his neck. Rafe lets his eyes flutter close for a moment, breathing in a shaky breath.

"Don't do that."

"Why?" You ask, genuinely curious. "I'm just tracing."

"Because anything from you right now feels good," he confesses quietly, and your breath caught in your throat. You hand stills. "Fuck, don't stop."

"You're going to have to give me one signal here, Rafe," you roll your eyes. "You can't say green and red light at the same time."

He pauses for a moment. Contemplating your words.

"Green," he whispers. "Definitely green."

You return to your outline of Rafe's silhouette. He lets you. He says nothing as you follow down to the curve of his arms, skimming against his defined biceps and the muscles instinctively flex under your touch. It made you smile. You pretend you aren't proud of it.

This is done in complete silence.

Then, out of nowhere, Rafe confesses, "I shouldn't have touched you like that."

You freeze. You knew immediately what he was referring to.

"I—I was out of it. I took it out on you."

He still doesn't get it.

You abandon your artwork and use both hands to cup the underside of his jaw, forcing him to tilt his gaze and look up at you. With a sigh, you say, "that wasn't the problem." Your eyes study his face, "it was the fact that you didn't talk to me or explain to me what happened."

His gaze is broken; so incredibly so. The whites of his irises are a faint shade of red, bringing out the deep set of his blue eyes.

"I need to know these things, Rafe." You continue gently. "It's not about me being nosy, or a bitch, or anything. If I'm getting into something with you, I need to know the full picture so I can help you." You swallow your voice as you mumble out the next one. "So you can help me."

You hope he doesn't know the strain in your tone, how hard it was to say those words. You hope he doesn't press on it.

"Okay." Rafe nods, dipping his chin into your palms. "I get it."

"Easier said than done, darling."

Rafe knows it is. He's been struggling to string words together before you came into his life, much less with you in it. But, he was willing to try.

He begins at the dinner. With a stumbled start, he explains how Ward doesn't think he was good enough for you.

You stop him to ask questions. "He said that?"

"No," Rafe shakes his head. "But it's the look on his face. It's—the way he acted. You should've seen how he looked at me when he complimented you, like I'll never compare."

You frown at those words; you didn't even notice.

When he satisfied your questions, Rafe continued on with his story. Rambling further. Each word spilling out easier than the last. He assumed it's because of the alcohol, or the drugs, or perhaps it was neither altogether and it was just you. All in all, he knew.

It was easiest to talk to you.

It reminded him of the bar. He put himself in that setting. His words tumbles out of him with the impression that you won't share it with anyone else. The idea that you were just you, a bartender, who probably had to deal with this shit a thousand-times-over with other talkative customers. That it was you, who he is confessing a vulnerable part to, without the retaliation of judgment.

Rafe breakdowns the comments Ward made. The little conversation they shared after dinner, when you were helping with the caterers. Your clothes. It all became too much to him; like he was the problem. That nothing he did was good enough. His mind was spiraling by that time and having nothing else to pour it into—the drinks, the drugs, the partying—all he had was you.

And he used that to his advantage.

You listen intently, nodding along and following his words without further interruption. Only on things you truly need to clarify. When he finished, even with his incoherent noises and words, something in his chest lightens. It feels more at peace.

You stare at him for a few moments, digesting the information. A protectiveness forms in the pit against your stomach because fuck Ward, you decided. Sure, there may have been admiration from your end about his ability to become a Kook but that means shit now. You hate how he treats Rafe. You hate how you didn't notice.

"God, your dad is a dick."

Rafe doesn't agree like you expect him to. His gaze hardens, like he can't stand you insulting him. You realized, in that moment, you crossed a line. That he may harbor all these hurt and anger and resentment, at the end of the day, it's still his father.

"Sorry," you mumble softly. "I didn't mean it like—"

"I know what you mean."

That came out with an edge.

You swallow, deciding that you should leave. Maybe you being here isn't the right decision. Your legs are starting to cramp from their overstretched position and the inside of your thighs burn from the overuse. You peel your hands off his shoulders and slowly will yourself off of Rafe's lap.

"I should go," you declare, glancing at the exit.

Something in his chest tightens. He wasn't mad. He just wasn't used to regulating his emotions, especially about his father. All he knows is that he doesn't want you to leave.

"Wait," Rafe declares as you pause in front of his bedroom door. He stammers for an excuse. "I never made you come."

Your eyes slightly widen from the suggestion. "It's fine," you say, even though, in that moment, a small part of you hated him for that. "I... I finished myself off when I got home."

The image of you, in your bed, alone, touching yourself to relieve your aches, does something to him. Both in guilt and in arousal.

"No," he raises from his bed, approaching you. Now, with him standing on his own two feet, he towers over you—dominating and intimidating. "It's only fair. I should give back."

"Rafe," you place a hand on his chest, laughing awkwardly, because you don't know how you feel about him pleasuring you. "It's fine. It's not a tit-for-tat thing. You don't owe me anything."

He feels frustrated again. That's not what he meant.

"Fine." He snaps. "You want my words? I want to make you come. I want you to feel as good as I did that day."

You stare at him, the air stolen from your lungs, not knowing what to say. Then, suddenly, an idea occurs to you and a sly smile rises to your lips.

"You want to help me come?" You ask sweetly, watching as he nods his head like an obedient dog. "Okay."

Your hands travel down to the hem of his pants, to his belt, and unbuckle them. Rafe's face conveys surprise, that you're so eager to accept, and when you pull out the leather strap, you stop. Just for a moment, you glance back, asking in confirmation. "My pleasure, right?"

He doesn't know what you're trying to do, but he nods anyway.

"Turn around."

Rafe does what you say. You take both of his wrists into one of your hands—a struggle that Rafe had to assist with—and pins them behind his back. Using the belt, you tie them together.

"Sweetheart..." His voice is low, unsure of how you're able to proceed, but the arousal travels through his body at the uncertainty.

"Trust me." You whisper, buckling them into a firm lock. When you walk back around to face Rafe, your panties dampen at the sight before you: him, standing tall, with his arms pinned behind him, almost helpless. "Sit."

Rafe takes the seat on the desk chair you pulled out, his bounded arms touching the back of the seat as his focus is pinned on you, standing before his bed.

You let out a shaky breath, excitement bubbling in your stomach at the idea of what's about to happen, before your fingers hook to the band of your pants, slowly pulling them down to your ankles. He watches every little move; like a strip tease catered specifically for him. Something he can see. Something he can't touch.

Rafe can feel his erection hardens in his jeans.

"What are you doing?" Rafe's voice is rough and once you step out of your pants, revealing the white panties underneath, he groans at the sight.

"I'm going to make myself feel good," you declare evenly, trying to calm your racing heart, "and you're going to watch."

His Adam's apple bobs. "How do I help?"

"I look at you as I do."

A complaint lodged in his throat but you caught it before he proceeded. "My pleasure, right?" You remind him, to which he, with great reluctance, nods.

You leave your shirt on, deciding it would be unnecessary to take off, and settle down on his bed. Your back pressed against the mattress, you position yourself comfortably in a way that allows Rafe to watch.

And he's watching.

"Are you going to use your fingers?" Rafe asks, deciding that he needs to talk to keep him sane.

"Mhm," you answer, spreading your legs. Arousal licks up your stomach as you feel the cool air brushes the inside of your thighs, raising goosebumps against your skin. You feel the urge to laugh to dispel some discomfort in your body, at how intense Rafe is studying you, but you choose not to. "I might only use two. It'll be tight."

Fuck, Rafe thought.

With a tentative hand, you brush your fingers against your panties, feeling your wetness forming a spot. The light touches ignites heat in your core and your eyes flutter close for a second.

"Look at me." Rafe commands, trying to regain some control. It doesn't work, but you listen anyway.

You watch him as you continue to stroke yourself, pressing against your clothed pussy, not quite entering, as a light coat of your slick covers your fingers. You tip your head back with a small moan.

"Sweetheart," he groans, "stop torturing yourself."

When he truly means to stop torturing him.

You pull your hand back and stuff your fingers into your mouth to cover with saliva, tasting the faintness of your arousal, before returning back to your pussy. Pushing the drenched fabric to the side, a forefinger slips inside easily.

A whimper escapes you, your back arching slightly from the intrusion of your touch. Rafe's breath hitches in his throat as he watches you steadily pump yourself, in-and-out with one digit. You focus on your own pleasure, how good it feels, with the heightened sensitivity of Rafe's attention all on you.

And he's fucking hard.

Rafe watches as you spread your wet folds, slipping in another finger to your tight cunt. It kills him that he can't do anything about it.

"I bet my fingers would fill you more," he offers seductively, trying to remind you of his existence. That he can do it too. You laugh softly, not taking the bait. "What are you thinking about?"

"How good this feels," you whisper, hearing the sound of your wetness squelching in the air. You mewl. "You."

Rafe grunts at the confession. You try to keep your eyes set on him, to remember what you're doing, who you're doing it with, but the build-up is causing you to lose control and makes you close your eyes.

"Eyes." He demands, his voice sharper than before. You open them with great resistance, each second longer is a struggle to keep them focused on him.

"Oh, god," you moan, quickening your pace as you connect your gaze with Rafe. The way he looking at you right now. It reminds you of the night at Topper's house, the time in the country club's bathroom. "Yes, yes, fuck."

He can't stand this. He's straining against his jeans, his cock painfully hard without any relief, while his wrists are bound and reddened by how tight you locked him in. How he's pushing against the leather, trying to break free.

You close your eyes again in pleasure. Your orgasm is getting close.

Rafe swallows hard. "You feelin' good, sweetheart?"

You nod eagerly, flicking your gaze back to him. "You enjoying the view?"

He clenches his jaw, not responding, but you can tell. The impressive outline of his bulge against his pants, how hungry his eyes are. How much he wants you.

It lights something carnal within you. You start to pump harder and faster inside your pussy, your moan growing louder and without inhibition; Rafe's very own porn show in front of him.

He has enough.

"I need to touch you." Rafe declares desperately, rising from his chair, his eyes never straying from the perfect image of you, on his bed, fucking yourself, writhing in ecstasy. "Come on, sweetheart, I can—fuck—I can make you feel so much better."

He's bargaining, goddammit.

A small laugh leaves you, mixed in with the sound of your own pleasure, and you don't acknowledge his comment. His pleads. He steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you.

Rafe growls out your name.

You glance up at him through a heavy-lidded gaze. "Hmm?" You say innocently, pulling your hand out of your pussy. His eyes glance down at your slickness glistening off your fingers, his chest tightening.

"Say yes." He demands weakly, his voice rough and filled with so much restraint, like he's seconds away from losing it. "Tell me I can touch you."

You pull yourself to your knees, bending before him, your smile full of satisfaction. "You want me that badly, baby?"

He doesn't even bother denying it anymore. "Yes."

"My pleasure, right, baby?"

"Fuck, yes," he groans. "Please."

You grin, bringing your wet fingers to his mouth and pressing it against his full lips. He takes you in, sucking your arousal clean from your hand, his eyes still on yours, and you, finally, finally nod.

"You can touch me."

Rafe breaks his belt buckle in one swift motion, surprising you, before his hands immediately cover your body, grabbing at any flesh he can find. His mouth claims yours, pulling you into a hungry kiss and pushing you back against the mattress as his weight pins you down.

"You can't get enough of me." You tease, moaning at how good he tastes, how you can taste yourself on him, and your fingers find his hair. When he breaks, his hard eyes land on your face.

"You don't know how fucking badly I want to punish you right now," he confesses lowly, his hand lowering to the space between your legs. "For torturing me like that."

"It doesn't feel good, does it?"

Rafe scoffs, capturing your cheeks in one large hand, squeezing them together. He runs the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, mumbling, "this fucking mouth."

You provoke further. "You love it."

He doesn't answer you, silencing himself with a bruising kiss against your lips and sucking all the air out of your lungs. When his hand lands on your pussy, his fingers begin to run tight circles around your clit, causing you to arch into him.

"Oh, god," you moan into his mouth as he swallows the sound. Breaking from the kiss to glance down, he watches at how responsive your body is, how you're writhing under his touch, and smirks.

"Feels good?"

"So good," you whisper needily, "please keep doing that."

Rafe descends down your body, kissing a trail from the navel of your stomach to your wet cunt, aching and waiting just for him. "I'm going to make you come on my fingers, tongue, and face. Think you can do that for me, sweetheart?"

He doesn't give you time to answer, covering his mouth over your swollen nub and sucks.

"Oh, fuck," your hips involuntarily bucks against his face. He grins against your pussy, in satisfaction, at how good he's making you feel. At how good you taste. To be denied of this, for the past hour, was torture. He wants to pleasure and punish you, all in one. "Don't stop, don't stop."

Your legs wrap around his head in a lock as he ascends you towards your peak, slipping two thick fingers into your pussy. The size makes your walls clench around them. Rafe groans, the vibration against your clit pushing you further into your climax.

"Please don't stop, please." You moan in desperation, afraid of him pulling out again, tipping your head back against his pillows, your fingers gripping his hair harder. Rafe twists his fingers, entering at a new angle, allowing the cool sensation of his ring against your hot cunt and amplifies your sensitivity.

"I'm not going anywhere, baby."

Rafe quickens his pace, his fingers thrusting in with precision and hitting all the right spots. In addition, he slurps harder, tonguing your clit in a way that causes stars to blanket your vision. Writhing in pleasure, you moan and whimper, racing towards your orgasm.

"Come for me," he commands, feeling your walls twitching towards a desperate end, “let me hear my girl."

You release with a heavy cry, coming on his face and slumping back against the bed from pure exhaustion. Combined with the day you had, the double shifts you've been pulling, and the incredible orgasm you're given, all you want to do is sleep.

"Get up," Rafe declares, but you don't move. "Come on, sweetheart."

"Give me five minutes," you yawn, holding out five fingers while your eyes flutter. "I just need to..."

You don't finish your sentence, closing your eyes for a brief moment. That's what you tell yourself, and the last thing you remember before you fall completely in your slumber.

— read part five —

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doitforbangchan · 1 month

Text

All Bark and No Bite 12

Masterlist /Series masterlist

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

Previous - Next

Chapter Warnings: Smut, oral (m receiving), grinding, kissing, cursing, crying, fluff, angst, drinking, drunk confessions, suggestive.

WC:8.4k

Chan was right when he thought you would need a lot of aftercare. After the events in the shower he carried you to bed and cuddled you for hours, kissing you and saying how he’s sorry he had to do it. He never apologized for the punishment but he only said that he was sorry it was necessary. The only time he left you last night was to go grab you a plate of dinner that you ate in bed. As far as you knew anyways.

In reality the alpha had waited until you fell asleep then he went and served the punishment news to Felix, who did not take it well. There was a lot of sobbing and pleading but the outcome remained. The beta could not speak to you or touch you in any way until Chan deemed it ok. Felix cried all night but knew he should have followed one of his alphas only rules regarding their omega.

You woke up that next morning feeling uncomfortably sore between your legs. You didn’t feel Chan in bed with you but you did suddenly hear the water running in his bathroom. For a moment you didn’t move, just laying there breathing in your alphas pure scent.

Chan came walking out of his bathroom in just his boxers, noticing your open eyes. His eyes crinkled as he gave you a boyish grin and came to sit on the side of the bed closest to you.

“Morning my love.” he leaned down to kiss your forehead. “I’m running a bath for you. I figured you're probably hurting a little bit, huh?”

You grumbled out a “yeah” and lifted your arms weakly for him to grab you. The alpha laughed lightly and scooped you in his arms, where he brought you to the bathroom. You could tell it was very early, the sun's rays not even quite peeking over the trees you could see from the window. “Wha’ time is it Channie?” you tiredly asked as he lowered your body into the warmth of his massive bathtub. It smelled like he added some epson salts and essential oils into the water.

“Hmm about 6:00 am, maybe 6:15ish. There's a few things that need to be done before we leave and the drive to our usual camping spot is about an hour and a half.” He stripped himself and lowered himself to sit behind you.

“Toooo early” you whined, head laying against his chest as he massages your shoulders. When his hands traveled down further, now getting the knots in your back you let out a sigh. If you had to wake up early, this wasn’t a terrible way to do so.

By 7 you were out of the bath and getting some clothes together to take camping. You had decided to wear a pink boho floral dress that went down to your knees with your new swimsuit underneath. You grabbed a few change of clothes, some sweat pants and a hoodie in case you get cold.

Chan could tell how excited you were for the lake when you came bounding back into his room with your stuff, skipping and grinning ear to ear.

“What’s got you all skippy, baby?” He put your stuff in his duffle bag along with his own clothes.

“Oh I don’t knooooow,” you drawled,wrapping him in your arms, “maybe just that we get to go swimming and camping today!”

The alpha laughed and gave you a wet kiss on your cheek, causing you to squeal and release him. “Can you even swim, baby? You said you’ve only been in the pool.”

“Well, I mean..” you felt your face heat up. “I think I could swim just fine. My feet didn’t touch the bottom of the pool so I had to swim!”

He patted your head patronizingly and cooed at you while still laughing “I’m sure you do your best, my love. Don’t worry though, your alpha will keep you from drowning.”

You huffed and narrowed your eyes at him, poking his chest “ I can handle myself, I’m not a child and I won't drown!” You turned on your heels and stomped out of his room, the man cackling behind you even louder as you left.

Down in the living room is where you found Minho and Seungmin.The front door was wide open and you could hear shuffling and moving outside. The older beta was going down the list and Seungmin was reassuring him that you all had everything. Well almost.

Seungmin was the first to notice you, and he met you at the threshold of the living room with a smirk, “Hey, Baby.” He pulled you in for a swift kiss, and you giggled returning it.

Minhos’ attention was now caught, his focus on Seungmin and how he acted with you. Since Min caught the younger beta groping you the other day he’s been paying more attention to the younger's actions.

Seungmins hands pinched your thighs cheekily as he pulled away from you, “Cute dress.” He laughed as you smacked his hands away.

“Thanks, jerk.” he dodged as you tried to pinch him back. You opted for sticking your tongue at him. “Good morning Min.”

His eyes remained watching you even when he had been caught observing, “Morning, omega. Do you have everything ready to be put in the car?”

“Channie has my clothes in his bag he is filling right now.” You nodded while answering. “ Is there anything I can do to help?”

Minho sighed and ran his hand through his hair, “No I don’t think so. Maybe when changbin gets back you can help fill the coolers but other than that everything is about done. Innie is outside putting everyone's stuff in the cars”

“Where did Changbin go?” you asked as you heard Chan starting to come down the stairs with your combined bag.

“He went to the diner to pick up our food order and then to the store for more beer. He should be back in like an hour.” Min shrugged.

“More beer?! As if the two cases I saw you loading yesterday weren't enough!” You rolled your eyes.

“These boys love camping.” Chan answered as he passed you to take your bags outside. “More specifically they love to get unruly while camping.”

“No better place than in the great outdoors with your best friends, a campfire and a pretty girl.” Minho winked while Seungmin fake gagged. “We also got some fruity drinks for you, baby. And Ji.”

You beamed at that “Really? Thanks! How did you know I don’t drink beer?”

“You don’t really seem the type, baby.” Sungmin smirked at your huff.

Minho rolled his eyes “Anyways, when Changbin gets home we will be ready then we can leave.”

Changbin had already hit the liquor store and the pharmacy, for your birth control prescription (at Chans request), now he was waiting at the diner for everything to be ready for him to take. He was sitting at the counter playing on his phone. The restaurant wasn’t busy, only a couple other patrons sat around in booths sipping coffee. What did catch his eye was the unfamiliar man sat a few seats down.

The guy was young, maybe Changbins age. This town didn’t get many visitors, so it was a little odd to see him there. From what Changbin could tell the guy was a beta, a mated one since he had a mating mark on his neck.

The beta must have felt Changbins analyzing stare, because he turned his head to meet the alphas' analyzing look. He lifted his hand with a grin and gave a little wave, “Hi.”

Changbin was self-conscious about being caught staring, giving back a mild look of panic and a timid wave, “Uhh hey.” The alpha moved over a few seats until he was sat next to the beta. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to be rude. I just don’t recognize you, is all.”

“Ha yeah, I’m not from this area. I’m here to help my uncle with selling his estate.” He held out his hand for Bin to shake. “I’ll be around for a few weeks. My name is Wooyoung.”

“Where the fuck is Changbin? We need to get going!” Minho was clearly stressed out, pacing the driveway. To be fair, it was nearing 9am. You were sitting out on the porch on the outdoor sofa, watching the beta in his plight. Of course you wished to make it better, but unfortunately it was out of your hands. Slowly the rest of the pack shuffled out of the house, all ready to depart for the short vacation.

Hyunjin surprised you when he plopped down next to you with a deep sigh. He leaned his head on your shoulder and grabbed your hand in his. “Hey angel.”

“Hi Jinnie, are you ok?” You lifted his hand and placed a kiss on the back.

He gave you a tired smile, squeezing your hand. “Yeah, just exhausted. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

You let him lean on you as he rested his eyes. “Why not?”

“Felix was a wreck last night. Crying for hours after Hyung scolded him. He needed me, so I stayed up with him.” Hyunjin sighed again, remembering just how distraught the younger beta had been all night.

You froze, dread and devastation filling your heart. You hadn’t even realized Chan had said anything to Felix yet. He hadn’t made an appearance yet, so you had no idea how he was holding up. To be completely honest, you had forgotten about the punishment dished out by your alpha. You were having such a good day so far, it slipped your mind.

Hyunjin could feel you tense up at the mention of Felix, he opened his eyes to see unshed tears in yours, and the sour scent of your sudden mood change filled his nose. “Oh sweet girl, come ‘er.” He embraced you in a comforting hold.

“It’s all my fault, Jin.” You cried, burying your face in the boy's shirt.

Your crying had caught the attention of Chan who was on the other side of the driveway chatting with Seungmin and Jeongin. He just watched from afar, not interfering with the comfort you were receiving from the beta.

“It’s not -”

“Yes it is! I let him do it, I knew we shouldn’t have but I did it anyway. He’s never going to forgive me.”

“Felix has nothing to forgive. He disobeyed a direct order from his alpha. He understands why and accepts it.” Hyunjin was stern yet soft with his words. The beta had sympathy for the younger but wouldn’t defend the actions. He listened the first time.

“Will Chan forgive me, though?” You asked, trying to stop crying. The hiccups were relentless.

Hyunjin found the alpha in question eyes, finding no malice or any negativity, just curiosity. “I would say you don’t have to worry about that, baby. Channie may get his panties in a twist when he feels like he has to go into ‘mean alpha mode’ but he gets over it quickly. He loves you, he forgives easily.” He pet your hair.

“FINALLY!” You jolted out of Hyunjins hold when Jisung yelled from his place on top of his car. Ji was pointing at Changbins car coming down the path.

Changbin stopped the car and popped his head out the open window, “Delivery!”

“And where have you been?! We should have left by 8:30!” Minho stomped over to Changbin.

“Well I met this guy at the diner and-”

“It doesn’t matter, we gotta go.” Minho interrupted, “LETS GO GUYS!” He screamed it so everyone could hear.

Hyunjin pulled you in for a sweet kiss, wiping your eyes as he did so. “It’ll all be ok, love. I promise.” You nodded at his words. He stood up and grabbed your hand for you to stand also. “Let's get loaded and get going.”

You both walked over to the truck Chan was waiting for you at, “Ready to go Omega?” you nodded.

At this moment is when Felix walked out of the house. His eyes subconsciously searched for you where he saw you standing with Chan. You could see the redness in his face and his puffy eyes. He really had been crying all night. “Felix…”

You took a step towards him instinctively, wanting to comfort him but your alphas arm shot out and kept you from moving closer “Omega. Get in the car.” He kept his hard eyes on you, willing you to obey.

Felix saw this happen and ducked his head, beelining for Changbins car. He only sent Hyunjin one pleading look before ducking inside the vehicle. Felix respects Chan too much to disobey him again, even though he badly wanted too.

As much as you wanted to go to Felix you knew you couldn’t. With a look of defeat you climbed into the truck sitting in the middle seat. Hyunjin poked his head in and gave you a sorry smile, “As much as I want to be here with you, baby, I gotta go to Felix.”

“I understand, Hyun, it’s ok. I’ll see you when we get there.” You gave him a tight smile in return, scooting to the passenger seat, clicking in your seatbelt.

“See you soon. Love you.” He poked in to give you one last kiss before he walked to the other car.

Chan got in the driver's seat and started the truck, “ Are you ready, my love?” He was giving you that charming smile that you love.

You figured there was no sense on dwelling on it so you smiled back at him, “yeah m’ ready Channie.”

The drive to their usual campground was surprisingly pleasant, albeit the emotions in the car were a little heavy. Though you liked all the passing trees as you went even further into the forest. Chan let you pick the music in the car and he told you stories about the last few camping trips. From what he told you, the boys did a trip a few times a year, when the weather was warm enough.

You didn’t contribute much to the conversation, a little stuck in your head about the excitement of seeing a large body of water. Chan could feel your conflicting emotions, and could almost see them swirling inside of you. He only wanted you to have a good time so he decided to make a little adjustment.

“Baby.” he started, casually when you were about 10 minutes from your destination.. You hummed in recognition. “I think I may have been a tad harsh, especially since we’re all going to try and have a good weekend.”

“Harsh?” you were confused by his total subject change.

“I’ve done some reflecting, and I’ve decided you and Felix should still be able to at least speak to each other.” He shrugged, never taking his eyes off the road.

You let out an incredulous gasp, “Are you being for real?! I can talk to him?!” Your eyes looked hopeful as you stared at the alpha.

“Yes, I realize that it's impractical that two pack members can’t so much as speak to each other.” He let his eyes travel to you for only a second, to your beaming face. Chan put one hand on your thigh, just resting it there. “Remember, talking is the only thing I am allowing.”

“You got it, absolutely.” You were nodding rapidly, gripping his hand. “Thank you Alpha!” You were squealing with joy at the simplest of permissions, forgetting this was still a punishment and not a reward. As intended.

“You’re welcome, omega. I love you.” He said cheekily, giving you another sly side look.

“I love you Channie!”

Now you feel more jazzed. More ready and less in your feelings. The last few minutes of the drive was less heavy, and before you realized it you were pulling into a clearing behind the other two cars you were following.

You peaked your head out of the window, searching for any sign of water. “Where's the lake?”

Chan opened his door, and got out to come around the other side to open your door, “It’s a few meters through the trees in front of us.” he put his hand out for you to take, “we can’t set up camp to close or we risk getting water boarded.”

Everyone started getting out of their cars, scoping out the area. Immediately the boys got to work setting up camp. You saw Felix get out of Changbins car and went to go over to him but Chan stopped you, “Wait a minute, baby. Let me talk to him real quick.” He shooed you to help the boys unload the truck, then walked over to the younger boy who was standing with Minho and put his hand on his shoulder.

You weren’t able to hear what was being said, and couldn’t read Chan's lips since his back was to you, but you could see a little bit of the light return to the younger betas eyes and a light grin grace his lips. Felix appeared to nod in agreement then his eyes found yours, immediately seeking you out. You raised your hand to wave at him shyly, and he returned the wave.

“You can take this if you want, baby.” Seungmin brought your attention back to the task at hand, handing you an arm full of blankets. He pointed to where you could leave them, and the pack set up camp.

Camp was coming along nicely, tents being set up and drinks already being distributed. When you were putting your and Chan's bag by one of the tents Felix came up to you. “Lix!” You almost went to hug him but remembered you couldn’t. “I miss you.” you smiled the best you can.

“I miss you too, baby.” He grimaced then tried to smile back. “It’s just temporary. We can cuddle again soon enough. I promise.”

You nodded. “I love you.”

“I love you too. More than you know.” You felt your skin heat up at his words. He noticed things were almost done. “Are you ready for lake time?”

“Yeah!” You gave an enthusiastically loud response, then looked down trying not to come off so eager, “I mean, yeah sure.”

“HA! You couldn’t be aloof even if you tried, Omega.” Minho's teasing startled you and you jumped a little, turning to glare at him.

Min put an arm around your shoulder as you responded, “How would you know? Maybe I just hide it really well.” You didn’t miss the way Minho looked at Felix when the older beta touched you, a smirk on his face. “And don’t be a jerk!” You shrugged his arm off.

“Yeah leave Lixie alone, hyung!” Jisung hopped on Felix from behind. “He’s being punished enough.”

“Thanks Sung.” Felix deadpans, looking over it.

Minho put his hands up in surrender, “Ok ok I was just teasing you,” Then his smirk grew almost evil as his arms suddenly shot out and grabbed you. You squealed loudly as he threw you over his shoulder, your fists coming down on his back in protest. “Ow don’t hit me! I’ll drop your ass!”

“No! Don’t drop me, just put me down, you crazy! Aren’t you still setting up camp?”

“We’re done, it's play time now. I thought you wanted to go to the lake? I’m just taking you there.” He walked down the dirt path Chan had pointed out to you earlier.

“AHH no no no no Minho please don’t toss me in!” You couldn't see the water but you were starting to hear it now as he kept walking closer “Min I can't swim very well!”

He stopped near the edge of the water and lightly put you down on the ground. “I wasn’t going to toss you in, omega. You’re fine.”

You let out a sigh of relief and finally was able to look out at the body of water. It was beautiful. Very picturesque, almost like a painting, with the mountains in the background reflecting on the shimmering water. The sun was almost at its highest point in the sky and suddenly being next to the water you really felt the heat.

“What do you think, baby?” Hyunjin said from behind you, turning to see the rest of the pack coming down the trail. Hyunjin had a few towels and a folding beach chair. He didn’t have a shirt on anymore, his bare torso on display. “Beautiful huh?”

“Yeah” you oogled him, “beautiful.” He just laughed and kissed you as he passed.

Chan set you up a chair next to his, under a sun shade. Everyone picked their spots to set their stuff and then it was unleashing a pack of wild dogs. Most of them ripped off their shirts and sprinted towards the water, laughing and pushing each other.

It was like a scene from a movie, all these beautiful half naked men, splashing each other and being idiots yet still somehow managing to look perfect.

Your alpha was one of the few who hadn’t immediately jumped in the lake. He had his own shirt off as well, as he got out some sunscreen. “ Want me to get your back, my love? You need to be coated before getting in the sun.”

“Yes please.” You tentatively pulled your dress over your head, revealing the swim suit you had picked out the day before. The action caught every male's attention,( most of them eyeing you anyways waiting for the reveal) all of them unable to take their eyes off your body. They could see all the bites and bruises left on your body from the last few days, courtesy of Hyunjin, Felix and -mostly- Chan. Thankfully, you didn’t notice the boys in the water stopping to watch you, or you would have been too self conscious and put your dress back on.

Jeongin turned to Jisung and Felix who were in the water with him, “You guys help her pick that out?”

“Yeah.” “Uh huh”

The youngest boy gulped, “thank you for your service.” and saluted them.

“You’re so dumb.” Seungmin tried to push the alpha under the water and thus the play fighting resumed.

It was about an hour later, you were still sitting on the beach though now laying on a towel sunbathing, facing the water so you could still watch the boys all have fun. Now it was just you and Minho left not in the water, the beta still keeping his shirt on also. He had brought you a lemonade a few minutes ago now he was sitting on his own towel a few feet away with a book. You had asked him why he’s not in there with everyone else, and he told you with a grimace he ‘wasn’t much of a swimmer’. It was a comfortable silence for both of you now as you laid in the sun.

Changbin was exiting the water and coming up to the cooler, grabbing a bottle of water and coming to stand next to you. “Aren’t you comin in, babes?” He asked you after taking a drink.

Seeing Changbin shirtless and dripping wet was an ethereal sight. His body was like a well oiled machine, and it was very apparent just how hard he worked on it. You almost had to wipe the drool from your mouth. “Uh” you looked at the water then back to him, trying to pretend you hadn’t just been gawking at him. “I’m thinkin about it.”

The alpha smirked, noticing your roaming eyes. “Are you nervous?” You gave him a timid nod, not hiding it from him. “Come on, I can hold on to you the whole time.” He held his hand out for you to take.

You felt a little unsure, “do you promise?” you held your pinky out for him to swear.

He looped his with yours, “promise.” you let him help you up. “I won’t let you drown, baby.”

Changbin led you to the water, him stepping in first then gently guiding you in with him. The cool water felt good on your heated skin, a sigh of content escaping you as he brought you slowly into the lake.

The group was a few meters out, the water up to their chests. When you got closer to them you clung to Changbin, the depth getting to your nerves. He let you wrap your legs around him as he carried you and giggled at you.

“Look who decided to join us.” Seungmin splashed you, causing you to shriek. “I can hold you if you want, baby.” He had an evil glint in his eye, making grabby hands at you.

“No way! You’ll probably try to drown me!” You clung harder onto Changbin.

“I wouldn’t let him drown you, my love.” Chan swam up, splashing Seungmin.

“Not if I drown you first!” The beta tried to shove Chan under the water and the alpha retaliated and pushed him away with a laugh, clearly not threatened.

Changbin started waddling away, “Lets get the fuck outta this nonsense before Seungmin really does drown Channie and I have to step in. I don’t wanna be liable for that.”

You couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if something happened to your mate? Would Changbin take over as next head of the pack since he's the second oldest alpha? Something tells you Minho especially would not blindly follow behind a younger male. God forbid anything ever happen to your alpha, the thought alone gave you a deep pain in your chest.

‘Stop being so fucking negative all the time. Nothing is ever going to happen to Chan.’ You mentally chastised yourself, shaking your head to dispel the corruptive thoughts.

Felix, Hyunjin and Jeongin were a little further out, and you thought Changbin was taking you over to that group but instead he shuffled to the left and went over to a cluster of boulders that were sticking out of the water.

“Where we goin, Binnie?” you asked, still holding tight. The rest of the pack were getting further from as he went but still in sight.

“Just wanted you to myself for a little while, sweet thing.”

“Aww.” You pinched his cheek, “you’re the sweet one, Binnie. Carrying me around.”

He giggled, “I’m just protecting my omega, from every threat even waist deep water.” You could feel your heart swell at his sentiment, knowing he was being completely honest. He set you on a rock that was low enough for you to climb on, then climbed up to sit next to you.

“Your omega, huh?” You tried for a teasing tone but the crack in your voice betrayed you.

Bin scratched the back of his neck and looked away with a deep red on his face. He cleared this throat, “uh well, the pack omega.”

You scooted closer to him, so your thighs were touching, “that means you’re right, I’m yours too Binnie.” He made a choked sound, and cleared his throat again. There was a sudden confidence you weren’t familiar with coursing through you, it made you bold enough to make a move on him. “Binnie..” you set your hand on his thigh. Even though he had just come out of the cool water, his skin was burning hot under your touch.

“Uh, yeah, baby?” he could feel his dick twitch at the simplest of touches from you.

“I’m just really grateful to have you and I care about you a lot.” you leaned closer but he just groaned and let his head fall.

“Fuck baby, you can’t just say things like that.”

“Why not? It’s true. You said it yourself, your omega.”

He let out a growl mixed with a groan, he lifted his head and his hungry gaze met yours. “ Better be careful, or I’m gonna fall in love with you.” He reached his hand out to cup your cheek.

Now your face was the one heating up, “Would that be such a bad thing?” it came out like a whisper as you leaned even closer. Changbin now was tilting his head closer to you, his eyes falling to your lips.

“Too late.” He closed the gap between you and your lips met. Changbins lips were incredibly soft. He hadn’t been forceful like you thought he would be as an alpha, instead he pressed your mouths together with a gentleness you hadn’t expected. Almost as if he was scared to break you.

You were the one to press closer to him, opening your lips slightly to encourage him to take it further. He took the hint, letting his hand grip your face a little tighter and his tongue enter your mouth. Changbin tasted woodsy, almost similar to Chan but Changbin was more smokey. It complimented his musky scent, both corresponding to make your head spin.

There was a faint ‘whoop whoop’ heard that startled you both, causing you to pull away from him. Back on the beach Jisung and Minho were making kissy faces and hollering at you and Bin.

“Grow up!” Changbin called to them, flipping them off while they laughed. You were about to flip them off too but then your eyes zeroed in on Felix sitting in the sand behind them, a drink in his hand, and the most pained expression on his face as he watched you and Changbin. It made your heart ache.

“Hey Binnie?” you asked tentatively.

“Huh? Yeah baby?” He turned to you , bringing his hands back down.

“Umm,” you twiddle your fingers a bit, “ can we maybe go back to camp for a while?”

He followed your gaze to see the young beta looking forlorn, “yeah baby, we can.” He hopped off the rock into the water, and lifted his arms to grab you again. You scooted down enough to let him take you in his hold once more, and the alpha carried you to shore. “It’s probably after noon by now, if you're getting hungry can we go get some lunch from camp?” He suggested.

You nodded, “That sounds great.” He set you down only when his feet touched the shore. Together you walked up the beach to grab your towels. The three betas were still chilling there under the sunshade, Minho cooing at you both when you approached and Jisung continuing his kissy faces. “Alright calm down you children.” you laughed pushing Ji away as he pinched your cheek after handing you your towel.

“You guys are jealous it’s not you getting precious omega smooches.” Changbin huffed.

“Well, one of us especially is,” Minho let his eyes flitter over to Felix with a devilish smirk. The youngest beta still hadn’t said anything yet, just keeping his gaze ahead at the water.

“You really are an asshole sometimes, hyung.” Changbin rolled his eyes.

“Yeah Min, sometimes you act more alpha than Changbin!” Jisung said with a cackle.

“Now you’re the asshole Han! We were gonna bring back food now I ain’t bringing you shit!” Changbin grabbed your hand and pulled you up towards the trail to the campsite.

“Noooo Binnie please bring me a sandwich!” Jisung whined with a pout.

“Starve!”

Hand in hand you walked up the small trail. The campsite was very close, just unseeable through the trees, undetectable. When the camp was in sight you paused your footsteps, that boldness returning to you now that the prying eyes were gone.

“You alright, babes?” Bin asked, noticing your stopped movements, “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Yeah, I am. But not for food.” ‘What the fuck did I really just say that?!’ Whatever, you said it so now you gotta act on it. You lightly pushed on his chest until his back hit the nearest tree.

“Huh-” you cut him off by pressing your lips against his .He wrapped you in his arms, pressing your body closer to his. This time he wasted no time in shoving his tongue against yours, his battling for dominance- though you didn’t put up much of a fight.

“Mmm” You hummed when he slotted his thigh between your legs, the strong appendage creating some friction on your clothed pussy. As much as you wanted him, you were still too sore to even attempt another alpha inside you. No, right now you just wanted to show him how much you appreciate him for always being so sweet to you. “Mm Bin, hold on.” you mumbled as he started peppering kisses to your neck.

“Hm?” He couldn’t stop, the feel of your soft skin under his lips was addictive. He wanted to run his lips and tongue along every square inch of your body, to taste every drop of nectar you provided. The alpha knew you must be so, so sweet.

“Binnie,” You laid your hands on his chest and gently pushed yourself off of him, his lips chased after you causing you to giggle. “I wanna try something.”

“You can do whatever you want, baby. I’ll give you anything you desire.” He meant it wholeheartedly.

You still had your towel around you so you let it fall to the forest floor below you, and keeping eye contact with him you slowly sunk to your knees onto the towel. “Anything?” You were trying so damn hard to keep your nerves in check. You let your hands find his thick thighs, massaging them as you observed his dick growing in his shorts.

“Anything.” He reiterated with a gulp. Changbin couldn’t take his eyes off your sultry gaze, awaiting your next move. He could tell you were doing your best to keep up a sexy facade and if he was being honest it was totally doing it for him. Anything you do does it for him, really. Blood was rushing further into his cock no matter what you did.

You took a deep breath as you let your fingers trail up his thighs and up to the waistband of his swim trunks. You tried to slow your racing heart as you looped your pointer fingers under the hem. You steeled your nerves and tugged down the still damp fabric down to his knees.

Holy shit

Changbins cock was huge. Thick. Maybe not as long as Chans but Changbin made up for it in girth. ‘These alphas are gonna kill me one day.’

His tip already had a slow bead of precum coming from it as it stood straight up awaiting your attention.

Your mouth was working quicker than your brain. “I don’t think that’s gonna fit in my mouth.”

You both paused for a second, looking at each other like you both couldn’t believe you said it, before both of you burst into a sputtering laughter. His jolting was causing his dick to jump and slap against his stomach, the sight of it in your face was making you laugh harder and in return Changbin did too. It took a full minute to get out the giggles out of both of your systems.

“If it’s too big for you baby, you don’t have to. I know you may not be able to handle it.” Bin said, catching his breath. He wasn’t being facetious but you still narrowed your eyes at the unspoken challenge.

You tentatively reached out and took a firm grasp of his member. You could barely wrap your hand around it. The alpha immediately let out a pained groan, throwing his head back against the bark of the tree. Even the smallest of touches from you was overwhelming.

You sat up further on your knees as you let your hand stroke over him, trying to find a rhythm. You had never come face to face with the phallic appendage like you were now, and now that you were down here with it in your hand you were starting to get more and more intimidated.

With a final deep breath you leaned your face closer and placed a gentle kiss on the head. He let out a whimper at the contact of your soft lips. His little sound was encouragement for you to go further. You slowly parted your lips and slid his tip into your mouth, his precum tantalizing your tastebuds. You let out a low hum at the salty taste.

Changbin kept his hands at his sides, letting you go at your own pace, but fuck was it so hard. His instincts were fighting against each other. His dominant alpha side wants to just claim your mouth and make you choke on it, the other part of him wanting to coo at you and take care of your needs instead. He should have known this was taking care of your needs. You were growing to love the feel of him in your mouth.

He couldn’t help but put his hands on your head when you attempted to take him further into your wet mouth. His girth was a stretch but you were determined. You had seen how it was supposed to be done, you may have been inexperienced but you had still seen porn before.

You eased him as far back into your mouth as he could go, activating your gag reflex as you choked on him.

“FUCK baby! Careful, you're gonna make me blow my load if you keep doing that.” He moaned out when he felt your throat constricting around him. Your mouth was so wet and hot, he could almost imagine your pussy being the same.

You slowly bobbed your head on him, letting out little hums of satisfaction when the alpha began moaning and panting. He kept his hands stationary on the back of your head, but he almost lost it when you looked up at him through your lashes with glossy eyes, and drools started to leak out of the sides of your mouth around him.

“Oh my fucking god, you are the sexiest thing I have ever seen.” He wanted to cry when you hollowed your cheeks and a gurgle came from you with all of the saliva that was accumulating. “God damn how are you so good at this? Nughh wanna live inside your mouth.”

You giggled around him and his hands responded by gripping your hair, causing you to groan. He couldn’t help but lightly guide your head as you sucked on him. You only wanted to please him so you let him do as he wished, you were getting what you wanted either way.

Rambling seemed to be a theme with these boys as Changbin started to spew all his thoughts and feelings out for you while you sucked him off. “ F-fuck your so perfect. Wanna give you everything, wanna take care of you ‘mega.” you let out a whimper of your own. “You wan’ tha’ baby? You wan’ Binnie to take care of you forever? Mmmm yeah I know you do. That’s all I want, omega, all I need. Wanna love on you and build you a big house and- and- fuck- wanna show you what a good alpha I can be.”

Tears gathered on your lash line; either from his endearing sentiment or this thick cock bullying the back of your throat you didn't know. All you did know was how bad you wanted him to cum for you. With all the sweet talking he was doing he deserved it. Your hand found the base of his shaft that you couldn’t fit and you began to stroke him, trying to match movements with your mouth.

“Oh my god im gonna cum, baby your gonna make me fucking cum.” His hips drilled just a little harder as he chased his high. “ mmm you want me to cum in your pretty little mouth? Wan’ your alpha to feed you his seed baby? Nnnuuhgg don’t worry m’ gonna give it to you, Alpha is gonna give it all to his omega.” He pushed you onto him one last time causing you to choke and that was the last push he needed, letting go and a flood of his essence filled your mouth. His eyes rolled back into his head as curses and moans came cascading out of him. The thick knot on the base was inflated fully as he came, luckily your mouth couldn’t reach that far on him.

His load was enough that it was spilling out the sides of your lips, even as you swallowed all you could. You didn’t mind the taste of it, but the feeling was definitely going to take some getting used too. You let him catch his breath and you removed his now softening member from your mouth.

Bin looked down at you with blown out pupils to the hottest thing he had ever seen; you on your knees with teary eyes, lips puffy and red coated in saliva and semen. Fuck he wished he had his phone on him to take a picture. He’d make it his home screen.

“Damn baby…” He puffed out, petting the back of your head affectionately. “You sure you’re not some kind of secret porn star? Cuz that can’t have been the first time you’ve done that.”

It took roughly five more minutes after getting off Changbin that a search party came looking for the two of you. Jisung was worried you had been eaten by a bear. At the sight of you both, changbin looking fucked out and you with puffy lips, Seungmin had retorted with ‘well something definitely got eaten’. Because of course he did. Slowly everyone started to trickle back to the campsite, all hungry and most sunburned.

Night came quickly and by then the fire was lit and roasting hotdogs ‘so cliche’ while everyone had a beer in hand; or maybe two or three (5 +). Everyone was feeling good and laughing. You had even had a few drinks of your own, the alcohol making you incredibly tipsy and feeling relaxed. Chan was keeping an eye on how much you were consuming but overall was letting you let loose. At least you had changed into your sweats and hoodie so the mosquitos wouldn’t get you before you started drinking.

You hadn’t drinken in a while - the last time being a few months ago at your old best friend's house and that was mostly a glass of wine while you watched the oscars- so it had you feeling giggly and light.

Everyone was kind of doing their own shenanigans. Jisung and Changbin were having a drunken rap battle, neither of them coming up with anything intellectual or even coherent. Hyunjin and Felix were having a heated discussion about the importance of proper hair care. Minho was slurring through an explanation of how to cook the perfect hotdog to an equally as drunk Jeongin. Then there was Chan who was strumming a guitar as Seungmin tugged you up from your spot next to the alpha to dance with him.

“I can’t dance!” You tried to resist but your grin gave you away. Seungmin scoffed and yanked you up anyways.

“Like I care if you can, the fact is you will.” He grabbed both your hands and spun you around, then pulled you closer to give you a light kiss. The kindest touch he’s given you yet. He then grabbed you like he was trying to waltz with you, both of you not knowing the correct moves and just stepping all over each other. You were honestly having a great time, until Seungmin being himself couldn’t resist ruining the mood. “You know he’s only making an example out of Felix, right?”

You were caught in a whirlwind at his sudden declaration, “huh? What the fuck does that mean?” you tried to pull away but he kept hold of you, giving you his predacious smirk.

“Chan.” He said it like it was obvious, “He’s using Felix’s fuck up to not only teach him a lesson but teach all of us a lesson. It’s really not cute of him.” He wouldn’t have ever brought it up if he wasn't inebriated, but when the beta had alcohol in him he became even more unsufferable.

“What’s really not cute is that you're saying this right now, Seungmin.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“No but you know what is cute? I mean other than you.” He spun you again so you would be facing Jeongin. “Our poor Innie hasn’t been able to take his eyes off of you since we started dancing. Isn’t that cute? I think he has a crush on you.”

You locked eyes with the mentioned Alpha and he looked away quickly, as if he was ashamed at being caught staring. He did that quite a lot. Stared at you in awe hoping you wouldn’t notice. He also avoided being around you just as often. In your drunken state you were starting to grow self conscious at the reason.

“I don’t think he likes me very much, Minnie.” You mumbled, looking back at the beta who had you in his arms.

“Are you joking?” He snickered, “Oh I think he likes you way more than you know.” He let go of you and gave your butt a harsh smack in the direction of the seated younger male. “Why don’t you go ask him and see for yourself, huh? Give us some entertainment.”

You huffed, “Maybe I will ask him. But not for you, for me!” you marched over to Jeongin with intent as Seungmin cackled watching you go.

Jeongin had been avoiding your eyes so he hadn’t noticed you were coming to him until you plopped yourself down in his lap. He gasped as you seated yourself on him, eyes wide with surprise and his body freezing in place.

“Hi Innie.”

“Uhhh” He was at a loss for words, his brain failing to work the second you touched him.

“Can I ask you a question?” The alcohol you had consumed was making you feel emboldened. Tomorrow when you're sober you will be humiliated. Oh well it will be worth it to get to the bottom of his avoidance.

Jeongin cleared his throat, his face felt like a furnace with how it was heating up. “Umm yeah, yeah you can as-ask me a question.”

“I’ve kinda been noticing you avoid me sometimes…” You started, hesitantly. You didn’t wanna make him upset but you were genuinely curious. “And I’ve kinda been wondering why..”

He bit his lip when you shifted in his lap, already losing his mind and you haven’t even done anything. He still hadn’t put his hands on you, holding them out so they wouldn’t touch. He let out a shaky breath, “ I don’t avoid you, Y/n.”

“Well maybe not technically, but I don’t know, it doesn’t seem like you want to be around me. You seem almost… pained when I’m around.” You were fighting back a pout but your lips did it anyway, having a mind of their own sometimes.

The alpha boy wanted nothing more than to bite those pouty lips, to feel the soft flesh between his teeth. “Fuck” he accidently whispered.

“Huh?”

“N-nothing! Uh it’s complicated, Y/n.”

Your pout grew bigger, “but why is it complicated? Do you- do you not like me?” You leaned away, wanting to cry suddenly. “Is it because of the thing that happened when I was on my heat?”

Jeongin looked at you like you've burned him with your question, eyes shooting to yours in panic. “That's not it at all! Don’t say things like that!” Now you were the shocked one, not expecting his outburst. “Fuck, ok what I mean is, no of course not. I like you Y/n. Maybe too much..” He mumbled that last bit and in your inebriation you almost missed it. Key word being almost.

“Why too much, Innie? Isn’t it a good thing that you like me?” You wiped your tear that fell, then let your face fall into his chest.

He let out a quiet groan at your action, the smell of you weakening his resolve. He knew it would be embedded in his sweater for days to come. “You want me to be honest?” You nodded against him. “I have a hard time controlling myself around you. You make me almost feral. Everything about you is intoxicating. So yeah it’s kinda complicated.”

You let out an involuntary purr, his statement making you suddenly needy. You tightened your hold on him and pulled your face up to meet his. He was searching your face for some kind of disgust but was distracted by the pleased scent flooding out of you. It was making his brain foggy.

“Can I be honest now?” He nodded back at you, “ I really like you, Innie. And I don’t want you to hide away from me. Ok?” He nodded again, eyes closing as he was dragged further into your appeal. “Can-can I maybe kiss you?”

“Uhh, ye-yeah. Maybe a little.”

You leaned in closer to his face and pressed a soft peck to his lips. His hands shot to your waist when you pulled away from him, dragging you back to his mouth as he attempted to devour you. You let out a squeal from the action, catching the attention of Chan who was across the fire still strumming on his guitar.

As if they had a mind of their own your hips gave an involuntary grind on his lap and he growled in response, tightening his hold. Before he could take it any further, you were suddenly yoinked out of his hold and into the arms of Chan.

“Alrighty, that's enough of that. You’re both too drunk for this right now. You can resume in the morning when you're sober.” Chan said as he lifted you off of the younger alpha. “Time for bed, omega.”

You whined but didn’t fight it, letting him scoop you with no resistance. Jeongin almost growled at his alpha, but the sensible part of him knew that was a terrible idea. Look what happened to Felix when he disobeyed.

“Goodnight, baby.” He managed to get out in his stupor. He’s gonna be thinking about you all night.

“Night Innie.” You waved at him, then waved to the other boys as you passed them while Chan carried you to your shared tent. “Night boys! Love you!” you called out. There was a cluster of goodnights and love you too’s.

Chan chuckled, “You love them all huh, baby?” he set you down on the plethora of blankets he made sure to pack for you.

“Mmhmm, I do, Alpha.” Once you were wrapped up in the comfort you felt yourself grow drowsy. “Love ‘em all s’ much.”

Chan got into the blankets with you, letting you curl into him. He placed a kiss on your head as you drifted off. “They love you too, so much.”

You were out like a light.

A/N:AHHH I've had that changbin scene in my head for months before I even started this series so im pretty excited about it lol. The lake pic used above is a pic of the actual lake I live by, any guesses which one it is?

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

Also if any one wants to chat about the story or share predictions please send me an ask!!

Beta read by my wonderful bumble bee @ayejaii

©doitforbangchan

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andvys · 2 months

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Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter five ⭐︎ 'Cause you know it could never be

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of the upside down, mentions of unrequited feelings, mentions of Stancy (I guess), but none really

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Weeks had passed since your conversation with Steve, and things between you have shifted into a different direction...

Word count: 8k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult shoutout to my bestieeee, thank you for helping me and for keeping me in check, I love u

Series masterlist ⭐︎ Previous chapter ⭐︎ Next chapter

♡

As the weeks passed, the warmth slowly started to surround Hawkins. The flowers have all bloomed, the sun is blessing the town with light and it’s something you greatly appreciate, knowing that things could’ve been so different had victory not been the outcome weeks back.

The day Steve had come by to apologize and talk, things had started to change between the two of you. While you tried to avoid him at all costs, fearing more confrontations and arguments, Steve had done everything to show you that he really wanted to keep the peace between you both.

You felt awkward around him for the first few days after your conversation, especially because it felt like he was walking on eggshells when he was around you, he bit his tongue whenever you tried to throw a jab at him, he looked at you differently, he was careful with his words and it annoyed you to no end. You never wanted him to feel like he had to be nice to you after what happened. Luckily, he couldn’t keep his act up for long, the moment you said something that was enough to set him off, you went back to your usual banters – though, it didn’t feel as rough as it did before.

You were also dragged into everything involving the whole group. It’s something you would have hated if it wasn’t for Eddie who somehow had nestled his way into your life and reached for the title ‘best friend’ before you could even blink. Despite the fear that still lingered deep inside of you, you let him in and you are glad that you did so. You really needed a friend.

But you are not the only one who grew close to Eddie in the past few weeks, Steve has also taken a great liking to him, and you now see more of him than ever before, because now it isn’t only the weekly movie or game nights that you spend time with him, it’s also Tuesday nights at the hideout, Wednesday nights at the movies, Sunday mornings at the diner and… you don’t mind for a single second.

You used to watch him from afar, now he is everywhere you go and while the relationship you two have isn’t exactly friendly, you still appreciate it. You’ll take anything you can get when it comes to him.

You eye Eddie through the vanity mirror, watching as he lounges on your bed, flipping through some old magazine he had found on your shelf. His curls are wild on his head, a little tamer than usual though, a few new rings adorn his fingers as well as the new shirt that doesn’t exactly fit the occasion.

“Eddie, you could have at least put a nice shirt on! A black one! Without a stupid band logo at the front!”

“Stupid?” He gasps as he sits up, staring at you, looking very offended, “let me remind you, Sweetheart. None of them are stupid, they are meaningful and artistic.”

Max scoffs at him, trying not to shake her head as you’re still using the hot curling iron on her hair.

“Right, because the music video of that Samuel made absolutely fucking sense.”

He drops the magazine and jumps up from the bed, his jaw dropping at her words.

“You mean Samson!?” He almost yells, “Biceps of Steel is a masterpiece, Red!”

You and Max share a look of amusement through the mirror, scoffing simultaneously.

“Yeah, you made me watch that video like four times,” she rolls her eyes at him.

Eddie squints his eyes at her, continuing his ramble while you smile at their bantering.

Not only did you and Eddie grow closer, he and Max did too. Eddie’s new home is close to Max’s, just like back in the trailer park. And the teen just loves to bother Eddie and Uncle Wayne, more so Eddie in the early morning hours, knowing how grumpy he will get. She still snaps at him and judges his ‘poor’ taste in movies and music but he only judges back, though playfully. They behave like siblings and you never get bored watching their banters.

Eddie is the brother Max deserved to have.

“Bla bla bla,” she rolls her eyes at him, sighing in relief when you finish up with the final touches.

“Who taught you to be so rude, Red?” Eddie shakes his head in disapproval.

Max only laughs in response, she leans closer to the mirror and turns her head to the side as she touches her curls. Her eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you smile as you put the curling iron on your vanity.

Max gets up from the chair, she walks out of the room and into the hallway, still limping a little but the cast on her leg is already gone.

“I’ll call Lucas and see if he’s ready,” she says as she walks down the stairs.

You turn to face Eddie, who is staring at the dress you are wearing, like he only noticed it now. The playful smile on his face is now gone, replaced by a teasing one.

“Got all pretty for someone?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You tilt your head and squint your eyes, “it was a formal invitation, Eddie! You just didn’t get the memo.” You point to his band shirt before you turn away from him and sit down on the chair, picking up your lipstick that you haven’t applied yet.

Eddie rolls his eyes at your words, walking closer to you, he leans down and puts his hands on his knees, staring at you through the mirror.

“Darling, apple of my eye, sweetheart, long lost soulmate… I am not buying shit.”

You keep staring at your lips, careful not to go over the lines as you apply the rosy tone to them, only when you’re done and you put the lipstick in the bag you had picked out earlier, you look up at him with a sigh.

“It’s the same as always, Eddie.”

“Is it?” He tilts his head, still looking at you with that same teasing smile. “Cause while you do wear all these trendsetter outfits, I never saw you wear a dress this… fancy.”

“Trendsetter outfits?” You laugh, furrowing your brows at him. “And fancy? It’s just a black dress!”

He raises his brows, stepping away as he looks down at the silky fabric on your form.

“A little black dress.”

“Well, look who’s the trendsetter now!” You snort.

He walks back to your bed, picking up the fashion magazine that has a little black dress on the cover. He raises it up, showing it to you, “Vogue taught me.”

Shaking your head, you look back at your reflection and add the final touches to your hair, before you apply your favorite perfume. You get up and smoothe down your dress, it’s beautiful and you have been dying for a chance to wear it. But your stomach suddenly fills with doubt because of his reaction. Are you overdressed? No… right? It’s truly nothing special. It’s just a dress, a little black and silky dress, nothing fancy about it.

Besides, Joyce invited you all to a formal dinner, after all. You can’t show up in jeans and a t-shirt, even Max put on a skirt today and that girl hates dresses and skirts with a passion.

But maybe Eddie was right, maybe… you did think of a certain someone when you bought this dress, and maybe you do feel your insides tingling at the thought of seeing him again tonight, maybe you did get pretty for him – even when you know that he will have eyes for somebody else all night. That thought makes you want to stay at home and hide from the world but you can’t back out now, you couldn’t even decline the invitation you got from Joyce herself when you ran into her at the coffee shop two weeks ago.

She is one of the few people in this godforsaken town that you have always liked. Finding out that she is now dating Jim Hopper – the very alive Jim Hopper, wasn’t exactly a surprise to you. You heard all the rumors about them, even before you were dragged into the mess your new friends had been in for the past few years. – The bored middle aged women who met up at the coffee shop every Wednesday afternoon just loved to talk about all the existent and non-existent relationships in this town and well, you loved to hear about all the gossip too, though you always acted like you were immersed in the books you had brought, you really never read a single line whenever they were providing each other new drama.

On the drive to the Byers/Hopper house, you picked up Lucas before you made a quick stop at the store to buy a cake, none of you wanted to show up with empty hands and you didn’t know what else to get – besides the little bouquet of flowers that Lucas got for Joyce.

As you look out the window, watching the passing trees, you listen to Eddie’s conversation with Lucas.

“You ever wonder how Hopper explained his return from the dead?” Eddie asks as he plays with his sunglasses, “cause I’m really curious.”

“I am too,” Lucas says from the backseat.

“Do you think he went with the kidnapping story?” Eddie asks, his sunglasses low on his nose as he glances at you. “Imagine he told Chief Powell and Deputy Dumbass about the upside down.”

“Don’t say that too loud, Eds. Or the suit wearing dicks will come back to take all our hush money back,” you snort. “And then you’ll lose your fancy house and your fancy Barbecue grill.”

He waves his hand at you, “I’ll take my fancy Barbecue grill and move in with you. I’ll still have a fancy house, rich girl.”

You snort.

“Oh, can I move in then too?” Lucas asks, grinning at you. “You always got the best snacks,” he points to the store bought cake on your lap.

“Eddie and I chose the cake together,” you chuckle.

“Well, duh, we’d make great roommates, sweets,” Eddie winks at you. “Same taste in food – but you still need to up your music taste.”

You scoff.

“Honestly, I think a girls only place would be so much cooler,” Max says to him, “just peace all the time, no boys, no stinky clothes lying around… just pure girls heaven.”

Lucas frowns at her, tilting his head, “you say that to your boyfriend?”

Eddie snorts at the offended tone in Lucas’s voice, while you shake your head in amusement.

The burgundy BMW is already in the driveway when Eddie pulls up, he parks his car behind Steve’s. You inwardly curse at yourself for feeling a rush of something just from looking at his car. You tear your eyes away from it and take in the beautiful sight in front of you, instead.

The light blue house has a big porch, flowers on the grass in front of it, a big willow tree on the right side – it’s so pretty and this neighborhood is a quiet one, it’s perfect.

Lucas rings the doorbell, waiting patiently with the flowers in his hands that Max keeps teasing him about, giggling and making jabs at him until he finally gets fed up. He picks out one of the daisies and turns around to face his girlfriend, he brushes her hair back and tucks the little flower behind her hair, which shuts her up immediately, her eyes widen and she starts blushing furiously.

You press your lips together, so you don’t burst into giggles at the look on her face.

Lucas sighs in contentment when she grows silent, he turns back to the door.

Eddie though, he starts chuckling.

Max clenches her jaw, she sends Eddie the deadliest glare you have ever seen. It only makes you want to laugh even more.

The door opens and you’re all greeted by a very happy El, a bright smile on her lips as she waves at you.

“Hi guys, come in!” She reaches forward to Max, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the house, “I need to tell you something.”

The two girls scurry away and up the stairs, leaving the three of you standing on the porch.

Lucas shakes his head, sighing, “you know, I wouldn’t be surprised if Max left me to be with El.”

Eddie throws his arm around Lucas’s shoulder as they both step inside the house, “every girl has a girlfriend, just deal with it, Sinclair.”

“What?” You laugh, following them,“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh, it’ll happen magically, Sweetheart. Once you have a boyfriend, you’ll also find a girlfriend.”

“That literally makes no sense.”

“Oh,” Lucas smirks, looking over his shoulder at you, “he means, once you and Steve stop acting like you hate each other and you’ll fall in love and get together, you won’t only have a boyfriend, you will also have a girlfriend which is his best friend,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes and ignore the way your cheeks heat up at the word ‘boyfriend’. Steve will never be your boyfriend, he won’t even be anything close to it. Hell, he is barely even a friend. He is your frenemy.

You open your mouth to speak when Joyce walks out into the hallway, smiling at the three of you before a gasp falls from her lips when Lucas hands her the flowers.

“Oh, you’re such a sweetheart, Lucas,” she smiles down at the flowers.

You feel a little out of place, being new to this group, being in a tight friend group for the first time in your life feels nerve wracking. And while you aren’t the only one, Eddie is definitely way more sociable and open than you are, where you struggle to make conversations, he rambles on just about anything.

But Joyce makes you feel welcome, she greets you with a warm smile, placing her hand on your arm.

“We got you your favorite,” Eddie grins at her, taking the cake from your hands so you can greet her properly.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have! You’re all so kind,” she smiles at the both of you, “come on, I’ll put it in the fridge for now. You guys go ahead, Jonathan and Nancy are in the backyard with Hop, the kids are in the living room.”

When you step inside, you notice the smell of food from the kitchen and the dining room, the sound of music playing from the stereo – Joy Division. You know right away that Jonathan was the one who put on the music.

You greet Mike, Will and Dustin who are in a heated conversation about something D&D related.

Robin walks into the living room, her blue eyes meet yours and a smile appears on her face.

You eye her up and down, she’s wearing black dress pants, suspenders over her red blouse. Your lips curl into a smirk when your eyes meet hers. She opens her arms for you and you hug her, leaning closer to her ear, “if I was into girls, I’d be on the floor for you right now, Buckley,” you joke, suggestively.

She gasps and slaps your arm lightly, “naughty.”

A giggle falls from your lips when you pull away from the hug, “it’s the truth, you look hot in this outfit.”

She shakes her head, biting her lip as she tries to hide the blush on her cheeks.

“You’re one to talk,” she whispers, smirking when she takes a look at your dress, “how did Munson not crash the car?”

Your lips part in shock, and you look down, “i-is that too revealing?” You whisper, tugging at your dress.

She starts chuckling, “no, I just mean because you’re so gorgeous,” she winks. “I know I’d crash the car, I’d be too busy staring at you.”

“Oh my god,” you swat her arm this time, “Eddie and I are not attracted to each other.” And you’re certainly not lying about that.

“Robin, I see her the same way you see Steve,” Eddie suddenly says from behind you, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “Difference? I’m heterosexual,” he whispers to her before he looks at you, “no offense, it’s not that you’re not hot, it’s just that you’re a little gremlin to me already.”

Your eyes flash with amusement and you put your hand on your chest, “I will take offense to that actually.”

Your stomach flutters when your eyes fall on the figure in the kitchen.

“Sucks to be you then,” he chuckles, “anyways, how’s Vickie doing?” He wiggles his brows at Robin.

You don’t even hear Eddie’s words, you’re already too far gone, staring at the one you had your eyes set on since forever. You don’t know how he always does it, but he looks so gorgeous. His fluffy hair looking better than ever, a smile lingering on his face as he talks to Joyce.

His white shirt is tucked into his dark brown slacks that he paired with a black belt. He looks like he walked straight out of a 60s movie and god, he looks really good. He turns his back to you, and you watch as Joyce leaves the kitchen, walking out into the backyard.

You don’t feel your feet moving, but you feel yourself being pulled into the kitchen, still admiring Steve – his broad shoulders, the way his muscles are moving underneath the shirt.

You are practically drooling over the guy, and you feel shame but not enough to stop yourself from ogling him, maybe you’d feel a bit more ashamed if things between you haven’t shifted into something else, you still get on each other’s nerves, the bickering is still there, poking into each other's ribs to see who bends first, but all that is never too much or hurtful. The scowls are there, they never left, the scrunches of noses, the deadly glares. But you noticed that the bickering had gone from yelling to soft talking. Enough for just the two of you to hear, no one else.

It’s all still the same… but it also isn’t.

And you can’t help but love it.

Steve is cutting vegetables and throwing them into the bowl. Your heart flutters as you take another moment to look at him. While the others are chatting in the living room and in the garden, Steve is helping Joyce prepare dinner. Cute.

You lick your lips, moving closer to him, you brush your hand over his shoulder as you walk past him, not even realizing how soft your touch actually was.

Steve tenses up, not because he doesn’t like your touch – but because he does. He likes it, even if he would never admit it. He recognizes you by the sweet and flowery scent of your perfume, something that makes his insides tingle in an unfamiliar way.

“Hey, Lego head,” you greet him, leaning against the counter next to him, “nice mousse on the hair.”

A smirk tugs at his lips, he puts down the knife as he opens his mouth to speak, though when he turns to look at you, his breathing stutters, his heart stops beating and his eyes widen as the smirk slowly falls – instead, his cheeks heat up and he presses his lips back together, gulping as he takes in the sight of you in your beautiful dress. It’s not any different from the sundresses that you’ve been wearing a lot lately, but it would be enough to make him stutter if he tried to talk right now, because somehow, you look even more beautiful, right now.

You turn away from him, looking around at the food he had already helped prepare, giving him the perfect opportunity to ogle you. It’s a good thing he stopped cutting the fruit, and put the knife down before he saw you, he surely would’ve chopped a finger off by now, and he’s not sure if he would have noticed because, all that he is focused on is how pretty you look, with your glowy, smooth skin and the makeup that you don’t even need, the dress that almost has him on his knees.

But he gets dragged back into reality when your eyes meet his and he remembers who you aren’t supposed to be – a girl who effortlessly manages to make him blush. No one has ever made Steve Harrington blush, absolutely no one, and he surely won’t let you be the first.

“Blondie.”

“Do you think they’ll let us drink?” You ask, looking around as you try to spot anything but soda.

Steve chuckles, shaking his head.

“Are you twenty one yet? No. What makes you think that Hopper will let us drink?” He picks up the knife again, forcing his eyes away from you.

“We fought monsters and had near death experiences multiple times,” you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, “will alcohol hurt us?”

“No, but it might turn you into an alcoholic, better not start with that, kid.” Hopper suddenly appears from behind, causing you to flinch.

Steve watches from the side, laughing at the wide eyed look on your face.

You turn to face the older man, scrunching up your nose when your eyes instantly fall on the beer in his hand, “oh, really? What’s that in your hand then, alcoholic?” You mock him.

Hopper shakes his head, chuckling.

“So that’s where El’s attitude has been coming from lately.”

“Told you, miss sunshine over here is a bad influence,” Steve jokes.

“Don’t know which attitude you’re talking about, I don’t have one.”

At that, both Steve and Hopper burst out laughing, the latter squeezes your shoulder as he walks past you, “you keep telling yourself that, kid.”

“Well, aren’t we celebrating something today?” You ask.

Hopper opens the fridge, taking out another beer after throwing the empty can into the trash. He looks at you with raised brows, a smile tugging at his lips.

None of you know what this celebration even is about, that you all got invited to – except for El, Jonathan and Will, of course. They know all about it.

“Yeah.”

“So… can’t celebrate without the drinks,” you shrug, giving him a sheepish smile.

You’re unaware of the smile on Steve’s lips as he watches you.

“You’re nineteen, wait two more years–”

“We fought interdimensional monsters, this one almost got strangled to death,” you point at Steve, “not to mention all the times he got his ass kicked–”

“You didn’t need to go there, Blondie,” he rolls his eyes.

“I almost died! A girl can have a drink, come on!”

Hopper sighs, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks between the two of you.

You are desperate for a drink, it’s been months since you had any alcohol in your system, and you’re craving the buzz, feeling careless and free. All you felt after the night at the Creel house was pain… and more pain. Your head was constantly hurting, your vision blurred every time you got up, the dizziness drove you crazy – it’s still there sometimes, but you feel better now, much better, good enough to have drinks again.

But the stubborn man won’t let you have it and you can already tell by the look on his face that he will say no. So, you pull out the big guns.

You smirk at him, tilting your head.

“My dad told me what you used to get up to in high school.”

He holds his hands up, squeezing his eyes shut in annoyance.

“Didn’t you and Joyce used to smoke pot behind–”

Steve’s eyes widen as his lips part in surprise.

“Get this demon a drink, Steve.” He waves his hand and quickly leaves the room, sending you another warning glance over his shoulder.

“Why me…” Steve mutters.

“Cause you’re maid material, chop chop, Harrington.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes again.

“Oh hey Hop, long time no see.” You hear Eddie’s voice in the living room, followed by Hopper’s groan.

If you weren’t so fixated on Steve right now, you’d be watching Eddie’s and Hopper’s interaction, right now. It’s never not amusing.

“You sure you want me to make you a drink?” He steps away from the counter and bends down to open the cabinet he saw Hopper putting the whiskey into earlier, he looks through the few bottles and reaches for the rum.

You watch the way he furrows his brows, licking his lips as stares at the bottle. He straightens his back and steps up beside you again.

“Well, didn’t you used to throw parties and mix cocktails?” You shrug, tilting your head to the side.

Steve watches you, the way your flashes flutter as you blink, the way you look at him so innocently, something that makes him feel… intrigued.

“I never got to taste it,” you pout.

He swallows harshly.

“I’m craving something sweet on my lips right now, so please… Can you make me a drink?” You ask with a sickly sweet tone in your voice, not intending these words to sound so… suggestive and you don’t even notice it either.

But he does, and he almost drops the bottle he is holding. Your flirty words make his eyes widen and his stomach flutters. It’s not the first time something like this happened, you threw suggestive words or glances at him before but all this time he was certain that you did this unintended – even now, because the look on your face is innocent, genuinely innocent.

You aren’t teasing, you aren’t even aware of how flirty you can be sometimes.

He turns away from you, walking over to the fridge, he grabs the pineapple juice and puts it on the counter next to the bottle of rum.

He looks up at the shelf, where all the long drink glasses are. How convenient it is that you’re standing right in front of it.

While you do everything unintended, he doesn’t. He knows what he is doing when he steps towards you. He looks down at you with that same innocent look that you just gave him, the only difference is that he isn’t innocent. He places his hand on your waist, testing the waters. “Excuse me,” he murmurs, squeezing your waist ever so softly. He reaches over your shoulder as he grabs the glass, he keeps his eyes on you, biting back the smirk when he sees the way your eyes widen and you visibly gulp.

Your lips part and you start blinking, looking up at him before your eyes fall to his chest and you squirm beneath his stare.

Got you. He thinks.

You stop breathing and your heart freaking jumps in your chest, his innocent touch is almost enough to make your knees buckle.

Despite the nervousness, you look into his eyes, watching the way they twinkle with mischief. Bastard. Is he doing this on purpose? Because he somehow knows that every slightest touch from him drives you crazy?

He takes way too long to get that stupid glass from the shelf but fuck, you can’t help but love the way his big hand feels on your body, or the way he is almost pressed against you, the way the smell of his cologne makes your stomach flutter.

And then, he steps away like nothing happened.

Because it was nothing… to him.

Even when there’s a hint of a smirk on his lips as he prepares the drink, you know that this was only because he wanted to get a reaction out of you.

“Here,” he slides the drink over to you, still smirking, “try it.”

You wrap your hand around the cold glass and take the straw between your fingers, stirring the ice around, furrowing your brows, “what’s this called?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, “the King Steve special,” he winks.

You scrunch your face up at him.

Wrapping your lips around the straw, you look into his eyes as you try it, the sweetness from the pineapple juice definitely overpowers the taste of rum, and you don’t know if you like it or not.

Steve ignores the way his stomach tingles from watching you – watching your glossy lips as they’re wrapped around the black straw.

“Jesus, that really is a high school drink, King Steve.”

He squints his eyes at you, “it’s a fucking drink, Blondie.”

“A horrible one at that.”

He places his hand on his hip, rolling his eyes at your words, but a smirk tugs at his lips and he suddenly leans closer to you to whisper in your ear.

“You really fooled me with that dress of yours… if only you kept your mouth shut.”

He wants to stay and keep staring at the shocked look on your face, at the way you grow so flustered beneath his stare. The smirk that lingers on his lips grows even wider when he sees the way your lips part but close again.

He left you speechless.

He reaches for the bowl of salad, “gonna bring this out,” he says, tilting his head into the direction of the garden, “they set up the table outside.”

You don’t even hear his words, you just stare at his lips before your eyes fall on the chain around his neck. You swallow and look down, hiding your flustered face as you take another sip of the drink.

Steve holds back the chuckle, he turns away begrudgingly and walks out, he would’ve loved to see more of that look on your face.

It takes you a moment to recover from whatever that was, you nearly down the King Steve Special in one go. And maybe preparing yourself a second drink is a mistake, knowing that you will probably feel more than just a slight buzz, you only had breakfast and you skipped lunch because you were too busy getting ready and stressing over your hair that never looks nearly as perfect as Steve’s does.

You step out into the backyard, the table on the porch is already filled with food and drinks, the smell of the Barbecue lingering in the air. Jonathan is standing in front of the grill with Nancy by his side, her chin on his shoulder, her arm wrapped around his waist, they’re talking and smiling at each other.

As you watch them, the sudden realization that you will never have anything like they do, fills you with a slight sadness.

You don’t envy them, you’re happy for them, you’re happy for anyone who gets to experience love. But maybe, you envy the love someone else still holds for her, someone you will never have.

You look down, frowning at your drink.

The teens all stumble out into the backyard as Joyce ushers them to the table.

You flinch a little when you suddenly feel an arm around your shoulder, instantly recognizing Eddie’s cologne, you turn your head to look at him.

“This could be us if you weren’t such a gremlin,” he says as he points to Jonathan and Nancy who are now kissing, in front of the sizzling meat that is probably now burning.

You squint your eyes, shaking your head disapprovingly.

You know he’s only joking, and it fills you with relief, because as much as you crave what they have, you definitely don’t crave it with Eddie. You crave to have this with Steve, and it’s something you feel stupid for. The guy may not hate your guts anymore, but he’s surely not your biggest fan either.

“You know, you’re a gremlin too, Eds.”

“That’s why we’re best friends,” he chuckles, patting your shoulder as he looks down at the drink in your hand, “what’s that?”

“King Steve Special,” you snort, offering it to him, “well, this one was made by me.”

“Can I try?”

You hand it to him, and his curious eyes widen when he takes a sip, “wow, that is uh–”

“Too sweet?”

He shakes his head at you, curls bouncing, “nah, it’s perfect.”

“Well, you can have it, I might get drunk if I finish that.”

“Already!?” He scoffs, shaking his head at you, “lightweight.”

"Uh, excuse me? I haven’t had any drinks in months, Eddie. Months.”

“Well, I haven’t had any in weeks, I’m still standing.”

“You only took one sip!”

He takes another sip and grins at you, holding up two fingers.

“Two sips.”

You can’t even help but laugh, slapping his shoulder lightly, “you are so–”

“Funny? Handsome? Perfect?”

“Too cocky?” Lucas says behind Eddie, grinning at him.

“Me and cocky?” Eddie raises his brows, “never.”

“Oh no, that kid is right, boy. You’re cocky,” Hopper sighs, “trust me.”

“Well, I am also very fast, Chief,” he smirks, winking at the older man, “but you already know that.”

Hopper’s amused face grows serious, a hardened look takes over and he grumbles something under his breath as he stares at Eddie. You can’t even help but giggle. – A sound that doesn’t go unheard by Steve who just sat down across from Robin, not even hiding the fact that he no longer listens to her rambling about some movie she watched with Vickie last night. All he can do, all he can see, all he can hear right now is you, just you.

The sound of your giggles is not something he is used to – he is used to your grumbling, to your sarcastic chuckles and the smirks on your face. A giggle? A very unusual sound to hear but something that he’s been hearing quite often lately. If your friendship with Eddie wasn’t so obvious, he might’ve thought that you took a liking towards him, but it’s clear that your friendship with him is just like his with Robin; Platonic with a capital P.

He can’t help but smile as he watches you, not because he likes you, god no. He just likes watching you. You are pretty, gorgeous even. He always knew that, even through his dislike, he always saw your beauty – he isn’t blind. And seeing you like this makes his chest feel… warm.

He eyes your dress again, the lace on the straps lay so prettily on your shoulders, the silky material fitting your upper body so perfectly, it’s loose on your hips, and it’s short, not too short but enough to make him gulp.

The chair scrapes against the floor, but even that sound doesn’t tear his attention away from you.

Nancy steps up beside you, exchanging a few words with you and Eddie before she turns her head into Steve’s direction, she lifts her hand and points at him, something that instantly makes Steve tense up, because not only did Eddie catch him staring at you, you did too.

With his cheeks blushing red, he clears his throat and turns back to Robin who is now rambling Dustin’s ear off. He places his elbow on the armrest, running his fingers through his hair nervously.

What is wrong with him? Since when does he spend time staring at you? Since when does he blush because of you?

“Here you can sit next to your favorite person, gremlin.”

He doesn’t know who he expected to sit down beside him, but he surely didn’t think it’d be you. He goes to lift his head when you pull back the chair. Just as he’s about to glance at you, he suddenly feels your hand on his knee and hears your groan as you stumble forward a little.

“Almost broke my ankle, for fucks sake. I’m sorry, Lego head,” you mumble, inwardly cursing at yourself for tripping over the stupid leg chair and using him to steady yourself. You remove your hand when you finally sit down, turning away from him to hide the flustered look on your face.

He blinks, swallowing the lump in his throat, he plasters a smirk on his face, “are you drunk from that one drink, Blondie?” He chuckles, watching the way you roll your eyes at his question.

You feel a slight buzz, but you’re not sure whether it’s because of the alcohol or his ‘flirty’ comment that certainly had no meaning.

Steve loves to flirt and he does it every chance he gets but he definitely wouldn’t flirt with you, no matter how desperate he’d be, you’d never be good enough for Steve Harrington.

When everyone is finally seated and the rest of the food is now on the table, Hopper is standing up with a drink in his hand, waiting for the teen boys to stop talking so he can finally open his mouth to speak. He tries to be patient, he really tries.

Joyce looks down in amusement.

Jonathan waves at Dustin, trying to shut him up, but the boy doesn’t see, too focused on the conversation with Mike.

“Mike,” El whispers, nudging him with her elbow.

He looks away from Dustin, and turns to look at his girlfriend when his eyes find Hopper glaring at him with that very intimidating look on his face.

His face grows pale and he slowly leans back in his seat, punching Dustin in the arm to shut up.

Hopper clears his throat, he puts his hand on the back of his neck, squinting his eyes a little. It’s silent now, except for the faint music that still plays in the living room. His throat bobbed as he looked around the table.

You can tell that he struggles to find his words, by the note that sticks out of the pocket in his flannel, you can tell that he had already prepared a speech.

Joyce gives him an encouraging nod as she reaches for his hand.

“I uh– I just, I thought that it would be a great idea for us all to sit down and uh… chat. I’m not good at all of this so I’ll just jump straight into it,” he starts, chuckling at his own words, before seriousness takes over his features again, “you kids went through a lot, you went through too much, every single one of you. But you were all so brave, you stuck together and defeated that… son of a bitch.”

Giggles erupt around him and his lip twitches a little.

“We defeated him,” El says, smiling at her dad, “we defeated that son of a bitch, “together.”

“Language, kid,” Hopper chuckles but he shakes his head at her, “but yeah, together.”

“The past few years haven’t been easy for any of you,” he continues, looking at all the young teens, at his daughter, at Jonathan and Nancy but also at Robin and Steve, and then he looks between you and Eddie too. “You all lost something or someone, you shouldn’t know what it’s like but uh, I guess in all of this chaos, you all found each other and I-I think that’s, that’s something, that means a lot.”

You can tell that he is struggling to say these words out loud, you hear the shakiness in his voice, the way he is holding himself together, the way he is speaking so softly because of how emotional he is after he spent the past few years in darkness after losing people he loved.

El and Joyce stepped into his life and so much chaos followed when he was dragged into a mess he had only seen in movies before, but it also brought him so much light and happiness again.

Just like it did for you and you wouldn’t change a thing about it.

If you had to go back and relive all the awful things you had to endure those few weeks back, you would’ve done it in a heartbeat. Because, despite the horrors and the darkness you had been pulled into, you have found friends, a family. You found a best friend again, Eddie who sits across from you, smiling at you because he too, found a best friend in you.

And you and Steve, you aren’t close by any means, but you are happy to have him in your life now, even if only like this.

“And I, I found a family and my uh beautiful soon to be wife.”

It takes a moment for the words to sink in.

It takes another moment for everyone to lose their calmness.

When the soft smiles vanish and the shocked and surprised looks take over your faces, Joyce and Hopper can’t help but laugh.

“W-Wait what!?” Dustin shrieks, “you’re getting married!?”

“Yep,” Hopper nods, smiling proudly.

El is smiling excitedly, clapping her hands together, like she is relieved that it’s no longer a secret, “and I can’t wait for the wedding!”

Nancy and Jonathan laugh at her excitement, while Dustin still looks between the older couple.

You glance at Eddie, who is staring at Hopper like he wants to say something but he bites his tongue, not wanting to ruin the sweet moment with one of his jokes.

“And we want you all to be there,” Hopper nods with a small smile on his face, “it wasn’t my idea to invite you all, just so you know.”

Everyone laughs at his words and the fake grumpy look on his face, by now you all know that the former Chief isn’t as mean and cold as everyone always knew him to be.

“It was his idea,” Joyce smiles, cheekily.

“Of course it was, he loves us!” Dustin grins at Hopper.

“Well, congrats,” Robin smiles brightly, “I can’t believe you’re inviting a bunch of kids but hey, I’m excited!”

Joyce gives her a warm smile, while Hopper grumbles something under his breath as he looks between Dustin and Mike.

After all the congratulations go around, Hopper finally takes a seat, pointing at all the food on the table, including the few pieces of chicken that Jonathan had burned because he was too busy making out with Nancy, telling you all to finally ‘dig in’.

The conversations flow easily between everyone and it feels familiar despite being new to this circle.

And while you and Steve don’t really talk to each other, you feel his eyes on you every once in a while. You feel his arm brushing against yours, his hands grazing your knuckles whenever he reaches for his drink – and every slightest touch shoots electricity through your veins and your heart beats a little faster every time his skin touches yours.

You curse at yourself for feeling so weak for him, for almost crumbling after only these small and very innocent touches, for liking someone who spent most of his life hating you.

You spend the rest of the night avoiding him, trying to lean away, trying to look at anyone but at him. And even then, you can still feel his eyes on you and it’s driving you crazy and you suddenly can’t wait to get away from him so you can finally breathe and stop feeling so delusional – his comment, his touches, his glances are all getting too much. If he was someone else, you would think that he was flirting but he is Steve Harrington for god's sake, and he would never flirt, not with you.

You feel relief rushing through your whole body when hours later, Eddie announces that he is going home, you almost jump up and bolt towards the door but your best friend seems to have other plans.

With his hands on your shoulder and an apologetic smile on his face, he opens his mouth, “Buckley is driving my car tonight, I wouldn’t want to put you in danger, sorry sweets, you’re with Harrington tonight. Don’t worry, you’ll be in good hands.” He winks and pinches your cheek before he scurries away.

Robin follows him, winking at you as she walks out with Eddie’s car keys, and the teens following her.

Max gives you a sheepish smile, mouthing a ‘sorry’ before she walks out, as well, leaving you standing in the hallway.

What the hell.

You have been waiting to get away from him, now you’re forced to drive home with Steve? No. Just the thought of being alone with him makes you feel nervous.

You look around the empty hallway, you already said your goodbyes to everyone and no one will care how or who you went home with. You can just walk home… by yourself, and you won’t have to suffer through another car ride with Steve.

But as you reach for the knob, the sound of keys jingling stops you from opening the door. You close your eyes, clenching your jaw. You don’t have to look to know who it is.

“Running away from me?” Steve asks.

You look over your shoulder, meeting his eyes and the smirk on his face. Hazel eyes glowing beneath the dim lights.

“Come on, Blondie,” he murmurs, eyeing you up and down as he steps up behind you, placing his hand over yours so he can open the door.

His hand touches yours. His hand envelopes yours fully. His chest is almost pressed against your back. Your heart flutters and your knees almost buckle for real, this time.

His lip twitches and he licks them as he looks down at you.

You tear your eyes away from him when he opens the door. You quickly step out and breathe in the fresh night air, hoping that it will calm your racing heart.

“I-I didn’t know you’d be my ride tonight.”

Steve watches the way your dress sways as you walk down the porch steps. Fuck. He clears his throat, but feels unable to look away as he follows you. You don’t even look back at him, not until you’re standing next to his car and giving him a very annoyed look.

“Is that a problem for you?”

“Maybe.”

He shakes his head with a chuckle as he unlocks his car.

“Get your ass in the car, Blondie.”

Steve doesn’t know what it is about you today, but everything you do, everything you say drives him crazy. That cheeky smile that you throw at him as you open the door, the way you tilt your head as you lick your upper lip before you say “yes, sir.” Has him clenching his jaw.

He looks up into the night sky, taking a deep breath before he gets in the car.

He tries not to look at you, but it’s hard not to when he for some reason feels some sort of electric pull towards you tonight.

He starts the car and pulls out of the driveway without another word.

Neither of you speak on the drive home but Steve can’t help but steal glances, while you are completely unaware of it, just like you’re unaware of how much your dress rode up, not enough to reveal too much but enough to make him sweat.

Steve is under your spell tonight and you don’t even know it.

The drive to your house is too short for his liking and unlike him, who seems to be eager to spend more time with you tonight, you seem like you can’t wait to jump out of the car and get away from him.

You open the door, mumbling a ‘thanks for the ride.’

“You know, I really didn’t think that you could dress like that, Blondie.” He says, intending those words to sound… flirty.

A laugh falls from your lips because of how absurd this is. He didn’t think you looked cute, he probably thinks you dress too feminine for the attitude you have towards him, that’s all. This new kind of teasing is hurting you, but you can’t say anything about it to him, you can’t say that this hurts you, that it’s making you go insane. He would ask why, and you would have no excuse. You can’t face rejection, at least not right now… So you play along.

“Careful, Lego head. You’ll give me the wrong idea and make me think that you have a crush on me or something,” you joke with words he said to you not too long ago. You throw a wink at him and shut the door before he can even open his mouth to say something.

With his hand on the steering wheel and his eyes still stuck on you, he breathes heavily, his heart pounding and his cheeks burning as he slowly comes down from whatever high he had been on all day.

He swallows harshly, but his heart fucking flutters when he can smell your perfume that still lingers.

He watches you disappear into your house and shutting the door without giving him another glance or something.

He slumps back in his seat, throwing his hand into his hair, he runs his fingers through it as all the events come rushing to him.

The teasing, the touches, the… flirting.

Steve is stunned by his own actions, by how he acted towards you today – something that you were very unaware of, something that he is now glad about… Yet, he can’t help but feel a little disappointed that you didn’t notice the teasing.

He doesn’t even know where it all came from but he blames it on his desperation to feel something again, something that he had been craving for so long.

He was guided by lust, not by interest.

Because in no way, would he ever be interested in you.

All he saw today was a pretty girl in a pretty dress, it didn’t matter that it was you. He just needed to feel something, and he did… by teasing you.

But it’s something that will never happen again.

He swears, it will never happen again.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munsonlore @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @ibellcipem

I'm sorry if I forgot anyone again (I'm the worst at taglists)

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #stranger things angst

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lemonlover1110 · 8 months

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 9] Tantrum

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

You’ve known Satoru ever since you were five years old, and yet you’ve never realized just how spoiled and entitled he is. Sure, you knew that his parents would buy just about anything he wanted and he never had to face any consequences but you never really notice. Nor did you care. Not until he’s right in front of you, in front of your desk, and he tells you,

“You’re fired.”

It catches you off guard. You’re completely confused, and you don’t gather your thoughts in time. When you’re about to question what he means, he’s locked in his office. You knock on the door, and when there’s no response, you knock much harsher. He ends up opening the door, a brow raised as he asks, “Did you not hear me?”

“You can’t fire me.” You tell him, and he hums as he pretends to think about it. You’re about to call his mother to tell her about the situation, but Satoru slams the door shut which startles you.

“I want you to pack your shit up and leave this building, you’re fired.” Satoru says. You’re opening and closing your mouth, trying to think of what to say. A comprehensible sentence isn’t forming in your head. “You’re not doing your job properly.”

“I’m not doing my job properly? Last time I checked, I was. I’m just not fucking you like you want me to!” You raise your voice and his eyes widen at what you say. He didn’t realize how outspoken you’ve become, but hearing you say that is a reality check for the man.

“How dare you say that?” He responds, making you roll your eyes. You unlock your phone and look for his mother’s contact. Meanwhile you tell him,

“You’re a fucking horrible person. Why are you trying to take my job away from me when I’ve excelled at my job? Because we have a past together? I’m sorry for dating you, I guess.” You finally find the contact and when you’re about to call her, he takes the phone from your hands.

“Are you trying to call her? What business do you have with her? Why is she employing you?” He asks the questions that remain unanswered. You’re also not giving him an answer. He scoffs at your silence before saying, “Reason doesn’t matter. I’m the boss, and you’re fired.”

“You’re an entitled son of a bitch.” You take your phone back. You’re about to call his mother but you pause. You take a deep breath before you say, “You know, I’m glad you left me. If we had gotten married we would’ve gotten divorced within a year.”

“So suddenly you can remember we have a past together.” He says, making you click your tongue against the roof of your mouth. You chuckle, rolling your eyes.

“You were the one who told me to forget about our past while we worked together, why are you mad that I wasn’t bringing it up!” You argue, and he’s gathering his thoughts while you dial his mother. You put the phone on speaker, and he says,

“There’s no way you’re calling her.” And when she picks up the phone, he hears her voice. There’s no way his own mother would side with you of all people. He’s holding back a smirk, waiting for you to say something, to ridicule yourself.

“Hey, Mrs. Gojo. I’m with your son right now and he’s trying to fire me.” You inform her, and you both hear her sigh. Satoru is waiting for it. She’s going to tell you off, she might be putting up a tough act with him but when it comes between you and him, she’ll obviously side with him.

“I’ll talk to him. Don’t pack your stuff up, he’s just throwing a tantrum.” And she hangs up on you. You smile at Satoru, batting your eyelashes before you tell him,

“I’ll let you handle her. Have fun.” Just as you speak his phone rings, and he sees his mother’s name on the screen.

You’re not sure what you’re expecting that same day when Mrs. Gojo texts you to meet up at a restaurant at lunch. Maybe she wants to talk about Satoru’s awful behavior with you and apologize– You doubt that she’s apologizing, that’s certainly the last thing she’s going to do. You’ve known the woman so long, and you don’t remember her ever apologizing.

You get to the restaurant, and luckily for you, it isn’t something that’s high-end. It’s nice, but nothing extravagant that’ll make you feel bad about how you look. You walk into the place, and tell the hostess the name that the reservation is under, and she leads you to the table. A sigh escaping your lips when you see her and who she’s with. Of course.

“Mrs. Gojo… Gojo.” Your eyes shift from the mother to the son. You know there’s no way you can escape from this, so you might as well sit down comfortably. “What’s the reason for this meeting?”

“I can’t have you two working together while you bicker like children. I need you two to make up.” She says, and you click your tongue. You clear your throat before you tell her,

“Mrs. Gojo, I think it’s best to hurry up with hiring another secretary for your son. As much as I try to ignore it, we have a past together and we simply can’t get along even in a professional manner.” You try your best to be honest with her. You would’ve gladly been demoted back to Shoko’s secretary, but not fired by him. Especially since you know that he did it without his mother knowing.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, dear. I put you as Satoru’s secretary because that’s what I think fits best.” She responds. Satoru pinches the bridge of his name while your nails dig into the cloth of your skirt. Right, your opinion doesn’t matter. She’s the one that makes all the decisions around here. You stare at Satoru, waiting to see if he’ll actually say something to her.

To no surprise, he bites down his tongue.

She takes a sip from her water before she clears her throat. “I should get going, you two figure it out. I told the waiter to keep his eye on you.”

This reminds you of when you were kids and Satoru would snatch a toy out of your hands which would ensue an argument. You were always forced to make up, of course Mrs. Gojo wouldn’t be the one to force you because at the time she didn’t want her son to be friends with you. It’d always be your mother.

You’re tempted to leave when she leaves, but you stay in your seat. You’re hungry, you might as well order something. He doesn’t seem like he’s going to leave either. When the waiter comes around, you both order something.

You sit in silence, awkwardly looking around the place. After around a minute or so, you take your phone out. You open the couple of messages you have from the nanny, and smile as you see your son. He’s playing with the toy cars that his grandmother got him, and you take this opportunity to glance at Satoru and then at your son. You hate how much they look alike, and as you look back and forth you realize they look more similar than what you had in mind.

“How’s Ren?” He asks, and you nearly drop your phone. You furrow your brows as you take a big gulp from your glass. Can he read your mind? He awkwardly looks around before he asks, “Is that not the name of your cat?”

“Yeah.” You laugh. It takes everything in you not to burst into a fit of laughter. You completely forgot that your son is now a cat. You take a sip of water before saying, “He’s good.”

“Maybe we can make up if you show me a picture of your cat.” He says, and you roll your eyes as you shake your head.

“I decide when we make up, after all, you tried to fire me.” You point out. He really can’t argue with that. You tap your finger against the table before you tell him, “I guess you can talk about what you wanted to talk about so badly. Remember when you asked me to dinner?”

“Yeah… I’ve thought about it and that won’t end well.” He confesses. He can’t get rid of you, he doesn’t know why his mother is insistent on you two working together. “I guess… How have you been doing the past five years?”

“I’ve been…” You take a deep breath. You found out your boyfriend got married months after breaking up with you, you had a baby alone, have been raising him alone, overworking yourself to ensure Ren has the best possible upbringing. You’re tired. You sheepishly smile, “Fine. I’ve been fine.”

“You look tired.” He says. You have no idea why his words make your eyes fill up with tears. You chuckle, standing up to use the bathroom.

“That’s what happens when you work for your mom.” You respond. He doesn’t know what else to say, but it’s fine, you walk away to use the bathroom. He bounces his leg as he waits for you. He has to think of what he’s going to say to kill the awkwardness that goes on at your table

There’s a vibrating sound on the table, and he sees that you’ve left your phone. Satoru gets a great idea, you might not want to share much about your life but you’ve left your phone behind. He doubts your password has changed. He holds back, it’s an invasion of your privacy. But if the phone that’s across the table were to magically land in front of him and light up, it wouldn’t be an invasion of your privacy if he just glanced at it.

He’s fighting back on grabbing the phone and checking everything that you have there. His hand lands on the table and he slowly moves his hand. And just when he’s about to reach the phone, you’re back. You ask, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” He tries to play it off, his hand going to his side of the table and he puts his elbow on the table before his head rests on his hand. You try to act as if you didn’t see him reaching for your phone. You came back when you noticed you had left your phone and you feared this would happen. “So um… Are you seeing anyone?”

“I don’t have the time.” You share. Your food finally gets to the table and you get your utensils to begin stuffing your face. “I was about to ask you the same question.”

“Right.” He awkwardly chuckles. You both begin to eat, and his eyes can’t stop looking at you as you try your best to keep your tableside manners. Satoru can’t eat, his appetite goes away. His stomach growls, wanting food but the thought of eating makes him want to puke. He wipes his mouth with a napkin before he clears his throat. “I apologize for firing you… You are doing a great job and I just–”

“Got in your feelings.” You finish his sentence for him. He ends up sighing. You’re right. You shrug, “As long as you don’t let it happen again.”

“I won’t. I promise. Next time around it’s up to my mom.” He responds.

“So we’re stuck working together forever.” You joke. He ends up laughing. He watches you eat, and you feel awkward since he watches you like a hawk. When you swallow the mouthful of food, you ask him a question that keeps bugging you, “Are you and Sayo thinking of having kids?”

“Kids! Kids… Um, we haven’t talked about it. Don’t think she wants them.” He answers, and he sounds unsure about it all. You find it odd considering that’s his wife of five years, but it’s none of your business. You know Satoru wants kids but perhaps he’s changed his mind. “So um… You and Suguru.”

“What about us?” You slightly tilt your head to the side. Satoru doesn’t want to bring it up. He doesn’t want to give you ideas, but he already mentioned Suguru.

“You two seem… Friendly.” He asks, and you know what he’s insinuating.

“I wish… I don’t think he’s into me.” You confess since he hasn’t bothered to contact you ever since he found out about Ren, and Satoru won’t mention the past. He won’t mention it because if he hears that you’ve started dating Suguru, he just might lose his mind.

“How could he not?” He says, and you feel your face get warm.

“Let’s not.” You reply, and he bites his lip. He ends up nodding in agreement. He would have talked to you for hours a couple of years ago, but he doesn’t find a topic to talk about. You don’t know each other anymore.

You keep eating quietly since neither of you want to talk more deeply about the past, and when you’re finished, Satoru calls the waiter to cover the bill. To your surprise, Mrs. Gojo got it covered. You both stand up and exit the restaurant.

You don’t bother saying anything else as you begin to walk to your car, and you assume that Satoru begins to walk the other way until he calls out your name. You come to a full stop and you turn to look at him. You sweetly smile at him, before you ask him, “What’s up?”

You don’t know what to do when he wraps his arms around you. He hugs you so tightly that he sucks the air out of your body. You’re not sure what to do– Whether you want to hug him back or just awkwardly stand as the man that you’ve loved for so long hugs you. He’s been waiting to do it for five years.

And he’s waiting for you to hug him back, but you’re not budging. Until you feel a droplet on your shoulder. His head rests on your shoulder and he sniffles. You finally hug him back, “Don’t cry, Toru. You have no reason to cry.”

It’s muffled but you’re sure you hear an,

“I’ve missed you.”

#[changes]#gojo saturo #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x you #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo angst #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo fanfic

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gejo333 · 4 months

Text

Artist credit: @chocolate_duckling via Instagram or TikTok. It’s so cute I just really wanted to show this artist’s work. This is only the first drawing to the set. 💕You should check them out.

An Unexpected Match IX

Pt. 1 Pt.10

DBF/DILF Miguel O’Hara x female reader

18+ Warning

Summary: Drama goes down at the holiday party😭😱… and did Miguel keep a secret from you?

Will you be able to enjoy your Christmas and New Years in peace?

Happy New Years Everyone!

Sorry this chapter took longer to get out. It’s my largest chapter yet. I apologize for any grammatical mistakes I missed.

Enjoy💕

Wc: 10k

————————————————————————

"Gabi, this is your mother."

Gabi looked at Sofia before looking back up to Miguel as she shook her head. "No, that's not my mama." Gabi glanced up to you, something you noticed everyone in the close vicinity saw, including your parents.

"No Gabi. I'm your real mom. Not her." Sofia put on a fake smile.

Hearing the tense conversation from the kitchen Stephanie came over as she stood next to you, giving Sofia the, 'make one wrong move and I'll fight you bitch,' gaze.

"Hey Gabi, how about you go with Aunt Steph to the kitchen."

"But I want to stay with you and Papa." Gabi looked up at you with sad eyes breaking your heart.

"Mija, remember the conversation we had earlier in the living room?" Said Miguel followed by a slow nod of Gabi's head. "That conversation is going to happen now. So it can only be grownups at the moment." He added.

"We can decorate cookies in the kitchen Gabi." Said Stephanie as Gabi slowly walked over to her before taking her hand. Stephanie looked at you giving you a small hopeful smile before disappearing into the kitchen.

"I'm guessing you need to tell us something?" Said your father as he crossed his arms looking between you, Miguel and Sofia.

Sofia smirked, "wow, your parents don't know that their daughter has been fucking a man almost two decades older than her for the last few months." She chuckled, knowing full well that she just told your biggest secret the most horrible way possible.

"Sofia." Miguel snapped at her warning her to stop. But it was too late. You looked to your shocked and upset parents before scanning around the nearby people who heard the conversation.

"This was not how you were supposed to find out." You tell them.

"Backyard now." Your Father said. Your eyes widen, shocked from his angry tone. You had never heard you father speak to you like that. Not once.

"You. We're not finish yet." Miguel said to Sofia. You'd never seen Miguel give such a muderous glare to someone before, but that plus his cold tone sent a chill up your spine.

"Wasn't planning on leaving any time soon."

"And if I find out you were near our daughter while we're outside. There will be hell to pay." Miguel pointed at you when he said 'our daughter,' which made your heart melt before coming back into reality from the glare Sofia sends you from Miguel's words and you winced when you heard your mother gasp.

All four of you walked out to the backyard, farthest from the house so people can't hear.

Your parents looked at Miguel before looking back at you both upset. The awkward silence continued until your father spoke up: " you care to explain what's happening between you two?"

Miguel looked to you, noticing your panicked stars making you have a hard time to speak.

"I'm in love with your daughter and we've been together for almost five months."

"Y/n, you can't possibly be in love with a man you met only 6 months ago! How did this thing even start?! Was Tyler right? Did you cheat on him with Miguel?" Your mother said going into a rant.

"First off, I do love him, way more than I ever felt for Tyler. And I can't believe you would think I would cheat on that bastard when he cheated on me. Like I told you earlier, my relationship started after I caught Tyler cheating on me."

"Hold on." Your father said as he began to grow more upset. "The morning I came to your house and asked you where my daughter is, she was with you wasn't she? And you lied to my face when my wife and I were worried sick where she was! She's only 21 Miguel. She's too young for you."

"I'm a grown woman and responsible adult. I'll be with whoever I want to be with." You argued.

"Sam, Sarah. She's been well taken care of these past few months." Added Miguel.

"You live with each other?! Y/n when I asked you where you were living you said with Stephanie."

"I did live with Stephanie. For the first month right after I moved out of the apartment I shared with Tyler."

"So, how did this even hap-" asked your farther before being cut off by your mother, "when did you both actually meet?"

Your eyes widen, as your heart began to beat faster. Your gaze turns to Miguel before looking back at your parents pissed expressions. You knew the next few words were going to make everything way worse.

"We did only meet six months ago. But, the first time we did met was in Miami."

"You mean two years ago in Miami? When you were only 19?!"

"You had sex with my daughter when she was 19?!" Your father grew more livid, as he was about to come after Miguel. Of course Miguel would easily be able to hold his own, however you wouldn't see it happen as you step in front of your father.

"Get out of the way y/n." Your father warned you. When you didn't move a second later he grabbed you harshly by the wrist, making you wince as he nails cut into you as he pulled you away.

On instinct Miguel pushed Sam back as he grabs you by the waist and back to him. He quickly checked your wrist, anger rising on his face when he saw the already forming bruises.

"Dont you dare harm her again. We're leaving." Miguel was about to lead you back inside the house when your mother gently grabbed your non-brushed arm and said with a serious gaze,

"We'll stop paying for school. We won't pay for graduate school either, if you continue this." Said your mother, concerned etched on her face. Your eyes widen, anger coursing through your body.

"You're going to make me chose between my education and the man I love? Please don't make me do that. You know what I'm going to chose." You give Miguel's hand a squeeze knowing it would always be you and Gabi first.

"I'll pay for the rest of her education." Miguel joined in.

"That's insane. Her senior year alone will cost almost 50k for one semester. Plus forget about us helping you with your student loan debt. And that's way more than just 50k and that's just undergrad." Argued your mother, trying to scare him away.

"I can easily afford it. Money doesn't scare me away." Miguel shot back, knowing full well the intention behind her words. You looked to Miguel with a confused look before looking to your father who says, "she's too young to handle a world like that."

"Too young to handle what world? Miguel what's he talking about?"

"Mi amor, I was going to tell you soon."

"Wow, little miss perfect really is clueless." Sofia chuckled as she walked into the backyard.

"Sofia, get out. None of this concerns you." Miguel said before you stepped away from him, walking closer to her.

"Hold on, what am I so clueless about little miss bitch?" You bite back.

"I'll give you that sweetie, just because I'm such a nice person. It's kind of funny how you never thought of looking up your boyfriend. But like come on, who doesn't know about Nueva York's most successful, self-made billionaire Miguel O'Hara. And one of Nueva York's top socialite bachelors." Sofia tried to stifle her laughter when she saw your shocked expression.

Your eyes widen, a hurt expression crossed your eyes as you looked at Miguel who looked back at you with a sad and apologetic look before his gaze returned to a vicious glare back at Sofia.

"How did you even find where I lived, Sofia?"

" I found you from a tabloid Magazine of Mr. Richie rich picking up his doting girlfriend at her college. You can't possibly not have known about his wealth. You must be a really good gold digger to fool him." Sofia's words turned back to you.

"I-" You were having trouble finding words to argue back. Luckily Miguel stepped in to save you.

"You must have been oblivious not that long ago, Sofia. Because I remember our shitty relationship ending because I was too poor. And I bet the reason your back isn't for Gabi but because you also found out I have money."

"How dare you think I'm not here to see Abby."

"It's Gabi." You glare at her with a look of disgust that she couldn't remember her own daughter's name.

"Right. Well I'm not leaving anytime soon. I want time with my daughter."

"Over my dead body. You gave up all your custody rights when you abandoned her at my apartment when she was only a day old!" Miguel's voice grew slightly louder, growing more angry by the thought of Gabi being taken away from her family. You put your hand in Miguel's, your thumb gently caressing his knuckles to help calm him down.

"Maybe we should leave." You say to him, which he looked to you, gaze becoming soft as he nodded, still trying to calm down.

You both walk back into the house ignoring your parents yelling at you from the background, ignoring all the stares, and comments. You head to the kitchen as you see Gabi with Stephanie and Jack decorating cookies.

"Hey, thank you for watching her. We decided we're going to leave. I'll see you in a few days." You give Stephanie a small smile as you wipe Gabi's face off from the green frosting with a wet napkin before you pick her up in your arms. You hear your parents back inside as they call out for you, still upset. But you ignore them as you and Miguel leave.

You head to Miguel's car where everything for Christmas and staying in the city was packed. You buckle Gabi in her car seat, placing a kiss to the top of your head a smile escapes your lips as you see her yawn before you get in on the passenger side.

The entire ride to the city was in silence. You were slightly upset at Miguel for lying to you, maybe more upset since you were heartbroken by your parent's heartless reaction about your relationship with Miguel.

Miguel entered a large driveway to a luxurious apartment complex, where a man in doorman uniform came to the window with a welcoming smile. "Good evening Mr. O'Hara. Would you like the car parked?"

"Yes, thank you. Also could you have the things in the trunk sent up to my apartment?"

"Of course, sir."

You and Miguel got out of the car, you grabbed your purse as Miguel carried a now sleeping Gabi in his arms. He handed the young man a $100 tip before he guided you inside the modern apartment complex. Walking inside you were greeted by someone friendly at the front desk.

"Good evening Mr. O'Hara. Welcome back." To which Miguel nodded and smiled to the person in response.

When you entered the elevator Miguel pressed a fob key to a scanner, before the elevator began to move up. You noticed there were no buttons for levels, which you thought was interesting. Your gaze met his, as you saw that he wanted to say something but decided against it.

After a few minutes the elevator stopped and opened up to a vast and nice entry way. When you stepped outside and turned the corner your eyes widen by the massive penthouse. Your gaze quickly switched from the nice interior decoration to the gorgeous night skyline of Nueva York. Maybe if your heart didn't ache you would have enjoyed seeing this view for the first time.

"Cariño, I put Gabi in her bedroom. I know there's a lot we need to talk about. But first I want to say I'm so sorry that I didn't say anything about who I was I-" you turned to face him with a small smile as you interrupted him.

"Miguel, you don't need to give me an excuse. It's your money. Maybe I was a bit naive, as you do have two properties plus you bought one upstate. But I just thought you did really well at your job at Alchemax. Did I expect you to be a billionaire? No. But that doesn't change anything between us. I guess what maybe it hurt a bit. The reason why you didn't mention it was maybe you didn't fully trust me yet. Like maybe what Sofia said about me being a gold digger, maybe you were waiting to see if I was one or not. Or maybe that's just my insecurities consuming my mind. And I'm not even upset. I'm more upset at myself that for even a minute that I was upset at you for it. But I'm not. I just think with my parents reaction and Gabi's mom coming to the party unexpectedly I just didn't know where to put my emotions and I'm sorry."

You look up at him with tears in your eyes, trying to hold them in. But a second later you couldn't hold them much longer as they poured down your cheeks faster than you could wipe them away. You felt arms wrap around you, pulling you against him into a hug, as he brushed the hair out of your face as well as wiping away your tears.

"I hate to see you this way, mi amor. It breaks my heart when you're hurting like this. You don't need to apologize, at all." He lifted your chin lovingly as he added, "I have always trusted you. Since day one I have always thought of you as a kind and loving person. Even with the slight knowledge that I do well, I never thought of you as a gold digger. That's just Sofia, trying to get into your head. She is a gold digger not you. Also, you are Gabi's mom not Sofia. I might have said that at the moment, cause I just was in shock at the party. At the moment the words to explain how she biologically is her mother was not coming to my mind. You are Gabi's mom. Gabi see's you as her mom and I see you as her mom, as well as the love of my life. And I think we should explain it to her tomorrow morning. And I'm sorry that your parents reacted like that. I knew that they might have been a bit upset, but I didn't think they would act so cruel. But they aren't your only family. Gabi and I are your family just as much as they are. And as your family and your boyfriend I will pay for the rest of your education."

"Miguel... no. I can figure it out on my own. It's my responsibility. And I will find a better part time job to help pay for the rest of college and I will set up a payment plan with my loans. Most people do this."

"Cariño, I can't just stand to the side and let you struggle with debt. Please let me help you." You get out of his embrace, looking up at him slightly annoyed that he won't take no for an answer.

"Are we really going to get in an argument over this?"

"We won't because I'll pay for it."

"Miguel, please just let this one go. Please." You look up at him with pleading eyes, to which he let out a sigh, deciding to let it go for now. He pulled you into another embrace leaning in to place a kiss to your lips which you happily returned. After the kiss you stay in each other's arms, trying to forget all of the stress and worries from tonight.

"Mama, Papa."

You and Miguel turned to see Gabi from the hallway in her Pjs and holding her favorite stuffed Bunny in her arms.

"Oh Baby bug, what are you doing up so late? We thought you were asleep." You say and you and Miguel walk over to her as he picks her up in his arms. You brush some of the curls out of her face and behind her ear.

"I couldn't go back to sleep. And I heard you crying mama and I wanted to give you a hug to make you feel better." Said Gabi as she pouted, not liking the thought that you were sad. You took Gabi into your arms as you gave her a big hug and a kiss on the top of her head.

"I'm sorry if I woke you. I'm alright though, but thank you for your hug. It helped a lot." You smiled which made Gabi's pout turn into a grin as she wrapped her arms around your neck, "I love you mama."

"I love you too my baby bug. Now let's get you back to bed."

"Wait, who was that lady at the party? Papa said she was my mama, but you are my mama." You and Miguel look at each other before you both sit on the sofa in the living room. Miguel picked up Gabi and sat her on his lap as you sat right next to him, putting her feet on your lap.

"I'm sorry if I confused you earlier, princesa."

"I asked Auntie Stephanie and Uncle Jackie, but they wouldn't tell me anything. They just kept on giving me cookies to decorate." Gabi pouted slightly. You internally chuckled when you heard Gabi call your brother Uncle Jackie. You were never going to stop teasing him about that.

"Well I'm glad they didn't tell you because it's better that Mama and I explain it to you." Said Miguel as you noticed he try to stifle a laugh from the silly nickname she gave your older brother. Miguel looked back at you, worry in his eyes. You smiled softly and brushed some of his dark curls that have fallen out of place behind his ear. Even though Miguel has been in the parenting game a lot longer than you, you could see that he was still learning too. He smiled at you before taking a deep breath and exhaling.

" Sometimes not all Mama's and Papa's are biologically related to their children. But that doesn't mean they aren't your Mamas and Papas. The woman you met today, she isn't your Mama. I'm sorry that I confused you earlier. Papa wasn't thinking properly. Y/n is your Mama, but the woman you met today, Sofia, she carried and gave birth to you."

"Are you bio-logitally to me Papa?" You and Miguel lightly chuckled as Gabi tried to pronounce such a big word for her age.

"Yes, I am."

"How did you help that lady bring me to life?" Both your and Miguel's eyes widen from her question as your cheeks tinted pink and Miguel coughed from the sudden question.

"That's a question that will be answered when you're old enough to understand." You chuckle as you pick Gabi up and hold her in your arms. "But even though I didn't give birth to you. You'll always be my daughter and my baby bug. And I will always love you."

"I love you too Mama." Gabi wrapped her tiny arms around your neck again giving you another hug.

"Now let's get you to bed."

All exhausted from the hectic events taking place both you and Miguel got undressed and under the covers, falling asleep right away in each others arms.

The next morning you woke up to the beautiful city view skyline, bringing a warm smile to your face happy to finally enjoy the beautiful scenery before you. You sit up to look for your phone, but notice it was on Miguel's side table charging. Another smile came to your face, as you loved how thoughtful Miguel was to you. Knowing that the sun was up, you knew he would be up any minute so to get your phone you decided to straddle him before leaning over to grab your phone.

You turned it back on a frown forming on your lips as you saw the hundreds of texts and miscalls from your parents and siblings. You scrolled through some of them, and rolled your eyes seeing the repetitive cruel things your parents said yesterday now on text. The messages from your brothers were nicer, just trying to be the bridge between the two disputing sides.

Large hands made their way to your waist, as his thumb gently rubbed circles to your sides. You places the phone to the side as your frown is replaced by a warm smile as you looked down at your half-awake boyfriend.

"Good morning."

"Good morning, cariño. Though I'm really enjoying waking up to you straddling me, I didn't think I would see you frowning first thing when I see your beautiful face. What's wrong?"

You leaned down and gave him a good morning kiss, to which Miguel took the advantage of wrapping his arms around you and bringing you down on to his chest, which made you laugh in surprise between his loving kisses. Placing one more kiss to his lips you place your face in the crook of his neck, enjoying the mixture of his shampoo and cologne blending into a welcoming scent of citrus, bamboo, amber, patchouli and musk. With his alluring smell, the gently combing his fingers through your hair, and the rhythm of his beating heart made you almost fall back asleep.

"I checked my phone, thank you for charging it for me. But I saw what feels like a hundred texts and miss calls from my parents. And it's all the same horrible stuff they were saying last night."

"I'm sorry you had to see that. Obviously they'll be calling us both today. I just say we ignore it for now and enjoy the our time in the city." Miguel said after checking his phone to see just as many texts and miss calls from your parents.

"I think that's a good idea. Oh, forgot to say. Merry Christmas Eve." You kiss up his neck to his chin before reaching his plush lips.

"Merry Christmas Eve, mi amor."

After a few more sweet kisses you decided to unstraddle his lap, to Miguel disappointment. But you tease of a person, whispered in his ear, "I'm hoping Santa Claus visits me tonight. But I think I'm on the naughty list." You gently kiss the side of his neck before getting up from the bed and leaving a blushing Miguel as you quickly put on a pair of his sweat pants and one of your bras and tank tops before going to the elevator where all your things from the car were neatly placed by the doorman.

You grabbed the bags of all the gifts you had bought and bring them back to the bedroom. When you entered, Miguel was sitting up in bed looking at his phone, obviously irritated.

You set the bags down, except for one semi-large box. You get back on the bed as you straddle his legs and place the box on his lap. "Maybe this will let that iconic O'Hara smile show. Is everything ok though?"

Miguel placed the phone on the bed next to him, surprised to see the box on his lap as his smile reappeared.

"I guess out of spite, your mother gave Sofia my new phone number. And now she won't stop texting me. She's being 'nice.'" Miguel air quotes the word nice before he handed you over his phone so you could see. Your eyebrows furrowed as you saw the sickly sweet messages from her. However, you smiled when you saw the text he sent her back, obviously irritated and asking her not to text him again.

"Enough about the pains in our side. I got you something. Ok, maybe it's for us. But you don't get to see the other part until tonight." You wink at him, which earned a smirk on his lips as he opens the box. His brows furrowed with a smile on his face as he lifted pieces of soft red and white clothing. You decide to get off the bed as you see him get out of bed, getting a nice glance of only him in his boxers before he put on the suit.

Your eyes widen, grin growing, cheeks growing a shade red as you see him in the final product. He wore a deep red Santa suit with white fluff lining down his chest meeting into a middle right above his waist with a large black belt and followed by deep red pants that shaped him just as well at the top part. And it all matched with black boots.

"How do I look?" Miguel smirked. You walk up to him as you placed your hands on his bare chest.

"Really sexy. Maybe too sexy. I don't think I'll be able to keep my hands of you." You chuckle.

"I like the words coming out of your mouth."

"I bet you'll like what my mouth is going to do." You go on your knees, eyes never leaving his reddish-brown. Settled between his legs as you lower his pants and free his erect cock.

You stroked him a few times before you dragged your tongue up his member before kissing his leaking tip. You open your mouth for him to slide onto your tongue and down your throat your lust-filled gaze not leaving his own as a groan escaped his lips.

"Mi amor, your too good to me. I don't deserve you or your pretty mouth." Miguel moaned out as his hand reached the back of your head. His fingers intertwined into your hair as he gently thrusts into your throat. You hum against his cock in approval, earning another groan from Miguel's lips. Miguel gently thrusts more of himself into your mouth; but as this wasn't the first blow job you've given him, you've gotten quite enough practice to be able to deep throat him now. As he continued his movements you continued to move your tongue along his cock.

"Fuck baby, I can't last much longer." Miguel thrusted his cock as deep as it could go before spilling it into your throat. You happily take him all before removing your mouth and licking his tip clean. You slowly wiped your thumb across your lip, as a bit was left on your lips before you licked it off your finger, while your gaze stayed locked on his.

"My god, mi amor. You make me want to ravage you when you do that."

"Why don't you then." You grin, standing up from your spot on the ground. Miguel grabs you and puts you on the bed, as you get on top of you he raises you shirt kissing your stomach up to your breasts, as he was about to take a nipple into his mouth the doorbell rang from the hallway.

"What was that?"

"Nothing hermosa." Miguel said as he took a nipple in his mouth, before lowering one of his hands into your sweats about to finger fuck you. However, the doorbell rang again. A growl of frustration left Miguel as he kissed your lips before getting off of you. He checked his phone, and sighed. "Ese maldito hermano mío. Gabriel's here early. Again. I'm sorry cariño." (that damn brother of mine.)

"It's ok, Miggy. We can continue later. Plus I still have that second part of the gift to show you tonight." You kiss him one more time before getting off the bed.

"I can't wait for it."

After both getting quickly dressed in proper clothing, Miguel pressed a button on his phone that let the elevator come up to the penthouse.

As the elevator doors open, walked in Gabriel with his usual bright smile as he carried in

two bags filled with gifts.

"Y/n! It's so good to see you again! I'm hoping my brother hasn't been tormenting you too much. Blink twice if you need saving." Gabriel chuckled as he set down the bags as he gave you a hug which you happily returned.

"Juro por Dios..." Miguel lightly glared as he sent him a 'I'm going to kill you,' smile at his brother as he stood right next to you.

"He's been good. And I'm good too. It's nice to see you again. Feels like it's been a while." You chuckle at Gabriel's silly personality.

"Now where's my little sobrina." (Niece)

"Asleep. She went to bed late, so we're letting her sleep a bit longer." Said Miguel.

"Aw, ok. Is she ok?" Gabriel asked, worry etched in his tone.

"She's fine. A lot happened yesterday. My parents , well the neighborhood knows about our relationship now and..." you looked to Miguel.

"Sofia somehow found out where I lived and came to the holiday party and said to Gabi that she was her mother." Added Miguel.

"Yeah, I would probably have a hard time sleeping too. And I can't believe that damn woman shows up after everything she's done." Gabriel eyes widen before a his brows furrowed and a frown appeared on his face, something rarely that happens, by the mention of Sofia's name.

"We decided though that we are going to live our lives and try to ignore it all as much as we can." You said.

"That sounds like a good plan. Now, let me make you all a proper Christmas Eve breakfast, my brother never can get our mother's recipe quite right." Gabriel heads to the kitchen.

"I swear he wants me to punch him." Miguel grits his teeth as he sends a glare to the back of his brother's head. You chuckle as you caress Miguel's cheek.

"How about you go check on your emails really quick in your office and I'll go help Gabriel in the kitchen." You go on your tip toes as Miguel nods before he leans down the rest of the way to kiss you, giving you a loving smile before heading to his office.

You head to the kitchen wear you see Gabriel cracking eggs into a bowl.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" You smile as you wash your hands before drying them.

"Yes, you can. Can you grate some of these cheeses?"

"Sure thing." You smile as you go through the many cabinets trying to find the cheese grater.

"Third bottom cabinet to your right."

"Thank you. It's my first time here, so I don't know where everything is." You go to the right cabinet and take it out before you hoping Gabriel at the kitchen island and started to grate the cheeses for the omelettes.

"If you don't mind me asking, what exactly happened last night?" Gabriel looked over at you with a small smile before looking back at the task before him. You smile back as you tell him everything that happened last night, from Gabi starting to call you Mom, parents finding out about your relationship with Miguel told by Sofia who appeared out of nowhere and causing trouble herself, and then the part about how you didn't know about Miguel's wealth status, also cruelly told by Sofia.

"Wow, that definitely is a crazy night. I'm happy you also know about Miguel's 'status,' he's been wanting to tell you for a long time, but he just didn't know when to say it. I guess he was worried you might leave. But he never said that, but I can just hear it in his voice. My brother has had girlfriends in the past, but he's never loved someone like he loves you. He's heads over heels for you." Gabriel smiles at you as he moved to pour the eggs into the pan.

"Well, I hope he knows this. But I'm heads over heels for your brother. I can't imagine not having him or Gabi in my life." As if on cue Miguel walked into the kitchen, with a loving smile on his face as his gaze met yours. You cheeks tint pink, wondering if he heard you and Gabriel's conversation. He places his hands on your hips as he pulled you into his embrace from behind, taking your chin and placing a sweet kiss on your lips.

"I love you." He said. Your cheeks grew a shade darker. Oh he definitely heard your conversation.

"I love you too."

"Ok, you two. Either get a room or help me with cooking." Gabriel chuckled as he connoted to make the omelettes.

You saw Miguel roll his eyes, as he leaned down to kiss your one last time before he gently pushed Gabriel away from the stove, "I'll do it. You're burning them."

"B-burning them? I'm adding a nice crisp! You make them too watery!" Gabriel argued back as he tried to get back to the pan, though tall and fit he was still no where compared to his older brother.

You smile at the two O'Hara brother, leaving them to continue their banter while you head to Gabi's room. Checking the time, you thought it was smart for Gabi to wake up. You gently open the door, as you quietly walk in. You look around to see the adorable light blue room, filled with a few soccer balls, dolls, and legos filled with butterflies and soccer balls decorated around the room. You kneel down by her bedside. Your heart on the verge of bursting for how adorable she was.

"Good morning Baby bug. Merry Christmas Eve. It's time to wake up." you gently brush some of her brown curls, the same has her fathers, covering her face. Big brown eyes reveal themselves to you, and a small smile appears on her face.

"Mama!"Getting a boost of energy, Gabi sits up to hug you. Lifting her out of bed, you stop, before grabbing her stuffed bunny know that she would want to have that with her.

"How did you sleep?" You step out of her room.

"Good!" She smiled after yawning as she rested her head in the crook of your neck.

"Oh guess who's here?"

"Santa!" Gabi's head popped up as she looked at you with excitement, which made you chuckle.

"Not Santa, it's too early for him to visit yet. He comes during the night. Tio Gabi is here."

"That's even better!" Gabi cheered which warmed your heart as you kissed the top of her head before making your way into the kitchen.

"Guess who's awake." You say, having the two O'Hara brothers turn to face you and Gabi.

"Good morning princesa." Miguel smiled at the loving sight of you and Gabi. He was about to walk over to lift her into his arms, but was beat to it by his brother. "Aw my mini Gabi! My favorite sobrina. I've missed you." You handed Gabi over to Gabriel as he gives her a big hug.

"Tio Gabi, I'm your only sobrina." Gabi giggled.

"Who knows Gabi, maybe you'll get a littler brother or sister one day." Chuckled Gabriel, which made Gabi eyes brighten up as her mile widens. "Really?! Mama, Papa! Will I?"

Your cheeks turn a bright red, eyes widen. Your embarrassment grew further as you felt Miguel hand on your lower back.

"N-no princesa. Not at the moment. But maybe one day." Miguel looks down at you, trying to figure out what you thought.

"Yes, definitely one day. But not at the moment sweetheart."

"Aw ok."

You felt Miguel give you a love squeeze to your waist, pulling you into his chest and placing a kiss to your cheek, hinting that he liked your answer before making his way to his brother, "now let me get a hug from my daughter."

"Papa!" Gabi smiled as she practically hopped out of Gabriel's arms and into her father's.

After breakfast was finished being made everyone sat together at the dinning table. Miguel helped cut up Gabi's omelette, which you smiled at the sight, wanting to keep this moment as a mental image in your head.

You recalled how the topic of having more kids has been brought up a few times recently. You know with Miguel being in his late thirties, he probably wants to get married and have a few more children. And you know that one day he will want to talk about it seriously with you.

And of course you're not against the idea of getting married and giving Gabi a few brothers or sisters, but you know you want to have your career start off first. But you're not sure if Miguel will want to wait that long. Sometimes you forget the age difference between the both of you. Yeah, there are many couples with big age gapes, some even bigger, but probably when both people were both out of school and had somewhat of a career. Of course you know exactly what you want to do, you just haven't gotten to start it yet. Maybe you should ask Miguel about how you get noticed by Alchamex.

"Mi amor? Y/n?" Miguel called out your name, concern seen in his eyes.

"Yes, sorry. I got lost in my own thoughts. What were we talking about?" Your cheeks tuned pink, embarrassed from not paying attention to your boyfriend talking to you.

"It's alright, cariño. I was asking if you wanted to go ice skating in Central Park." Miguel chuckled, he thought your slight embarrassment was cute.

"I would love to."

"Then maybe after we could go see Santa at Macys. I heard he's making a quick appearance here in New York before he flies all around the world to give presents." Said Gabriel, which perked Gabi's attention.

"Can we go! Please!"

"Of course, we can!" Said Gabriel. You looked over to Miguel who sighed to himself, only you catching it. You take his hand and give it a small squeeze, to which he smiled.

"Well then let's get all bundle up to go." You say as you stand up.

After getting Gabi ready and let her go hangout with Gabriel in the living room, Miguel joined you in the bedroom. As you pulled the long sleeve sweater over your head, your met with a kiss to your lips. Thought surprised you smile into the kiss before pulling away.

Miguel goes into his walk in closest, getting warmer clothes for outside. You walk and lean on the doorframe of his closet.

"Hey, can I ask a question?"

Miguel looks at you trying to figure out if its series are not. Seeing that it doesn't seem serious he smiles, "Of course." He says as he pulls his shirt off and puts on the new one.

"I need to start looking for jobs and grad schools in Nueva York. I don't know why I feel weird asking you this. Maybe because your my boyfriend, and I'm really acting my

age right now." You nervously chuckle before adding, "And I know you did the grad/internship program at Alchamex, well they asked you to cause you are a certified genius, before going full time there. I was wondering if you knew when they start looking for new grads and interns." You bit your lip, for some reason your nerves were skyrocketing throughout your body. Maybe because you were asking for genius Alchamex Miguel and not your boyfriend.

"Well, first off. You never should have to feel nervous with me. You know I would give you the world if I could. And I remember you were interested in working in my department at Alchamex. I can look at your resume and transcript when we get back, if you'd like?" Miguel smiled as he looped his belt around his pants before buckling it together.

"That would be really sweet of you. I would really like that. Thank you."

"Anything for you, mi amor." Miguel pulled you into his lap, as he sat down on the leather bench, his shoes and socks next to him.

"Hey, I know the topic of children has come up a few times lately." His words began to make your heart race against your chest. "And I-"

"Are you two almost ready to go?" Gabriel yelled from the hallway.

Not ready to have this talk so soon, as your 99.99% sure of what he is goi by to say. You get out of his lap, "yeah, just getting shoes on. Be right there." You say before turning to face to face Miguel, "I'll go check on those two to make sure they aren't getting into any trouble. Specifically Gabriel." You say before walking out of the closest and out of your bedroom.

"Y/n" you heard your name right when you left the bedroom, but you decide to pretend you didn't hear him as you continue your way to the living room.

After getting downstairs and walking over just a block to Central Park from the apartment and adventuring through the beautiful winter scenic view.

You walked by Miguel 's side gloved hand in gloved hand, Gabriel a few steps ahead holding Gabi's hand.

For it being Christmas Eve, you were surprised by the lack of people skating on the ice. Unknown to you Miguel had called ahead and bought for the ice skating to be almost sold out for a few hours today, letting only a few other people to skate, so it didn't look conspicuous.

"Wow, look! It's so pretty!" Gabi said as she jumped up and down in excitement. "Well he there Gabi. Don't worry." Gabriel chuckled as Gabi tried to pull him to move faster.

By the time all four of you made it and got your skates, you sat down on the wooden bench to get yours on. Miguel came over to you, looking even more like a giant as he had his skates on. After you made sure yours were tight, Miguel lent you a hand and helped you up.

You all made it to the ice rink, and despite skating every year during the holidays since you were younger than Gabi you were slightly nervous to get on the ice. But like every year you swallow your nerves and get on the ice, and as soon as you do you feel happy and relaxed.

You get a few feet from the entrance before swiftly turning around as you see Miguel help Gabi on to the ice. Just like you, you could see the worry in her eyes as Miguel helped her to step on to the ice. Then as he stepped on to the ice behind her, he began to skate over to you, his hand under her arms to help keep her up. The laughter and smiles on both Gabi and Miguel's face made your heart melt from the adorable site. You couldn't resist as you took your phone out of your pocket and took a photo of them, making sure to show it to Miguel later.

"Look Mama! I'm on the ice!"

"I can see that baby bug. You're doing great." You say as Miguel skates her over to you.

"Now Gabi, you can't lock your knees when you skate. Always make sure they are slightly bent. And don't lean back. And it's almost like walking, your feet are just slowly sliding on the ice. Just like when you slide with your furry socks on the hardwood floors. Now Mama is right in front of you. Do you want to try and skate to her?"

"Yeah!" Gabi nods. As she was told she tried to follow her father'a instructions. As soon as she got a foot away from him, you saw her nerves come back as she begin to freeze, before anything could happen you skate the last few feet towards her as you hold both her hands.

"It's ok, baby bug. I got you. But great job on trying. I remember when I was your age, it took me some time on the once before I felt comfortable enough to skate on my own."

"Like Mamita said, you'll get there when you do. But for now you can skate with us." Miguel skilled and skated up next to the both of you as he took her other hand. You and Miguel begin to skate really slow to help Gabi learn how to properly skate, and to gain the confidence to do it on her own.

After skating for a while together, Gabi finally got the confidence to try on her own, of course with you and Miguel right behind her, just in case she fell, which she did.

After a few tears were shed, and a bunch of hugs and kisses were given to make her feel better, plus a hot chocolate with whip cream and marshmallows made her frown turn back into her beautiful smile.

All four of you decided to take a nice walk through the park.

"Wait! Can I make a snowman?" Asked Gabi as she runs towards the vast amount of snow covering the park.

"Of course!" You say as you follow her into the snowy field. You help Gabi with forming the body of the snowman, however, the little five year old decided to gather up snow into her tiny gloved palms and form a ball.

"Mama, can we throw one at Papa?" Gabi grinned, which made you laugh. "Yes." You mimicked her grin as she passed you the snowball, and made herself another one.

Miguel's back was facing you and Gabi at the moment as he talked to Gabriel. Knowing you wouldn't be able to get close without his crazy good hearing warning you of your presence, you stop just a few feet from him.

"Ok, three, two, one...throw" you whisper yell as both you and Gabi throw the harmless snow at Miguel's back.

Miguel quickly turned around with a surprised face, a smile appearing as he saw both you and Gabi try to hide your laughter. Of course Gabriel couldn't hide his, as he burst out in laughter from his brother's reaction.

"Oh, we want to play like that. Do we know?" Miguel chuckled before he slowly began to walk over to both of you, before jumping into a sprint. You and Gabi ran in the opposite direction, Gabi squealing in delight. Of course you didn't get far before Miguel grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into his chest, however you both lost your balance and fell backwards into a large pile of snow, that was luckily there to make the landing soft. Gabi followed right after you by falling on to Miguel as he caught her with the other arm that wasn't around you.

All three of you laughed, as you laid in the pile of snow. "Mis traviesas niñas." Said Miguel before he pulled you both in for a hug.

"Aww, such a cute family! Makes me want to settle and have one." Said Gabriel as he took a photo of the three of you.

"Well maybe you should, so that you'll bother me less." Said Miguel.

"Nah, you would miss me too much."

Gabi got up, followed by you as you lent a hand to Help Miguel up. But you noticed the mischievous grin on his face a little too late as he pulls you back down into his chest.

"Miguel!" You giggle before they are deal by a kiss.

"Ok, you two love birds. I got a photo for the picture books, now get up. I'm freezing." Said Gabriel after taking a photo of you and Miguel knowing you both would want these sweet moments saved. He handed Miguel's phone back to him which he had stolen to take photos.

After heading back to the apartment, having dinner, and opening the presents Gabriel brought it was time to say goodnight and goodbye.

"I had a great day with all of you. I hope you have a nice Christmas and new years. I'll see you both next year!" Gabriel said as he saluted off before the elevator door closed on him.

You let out a small laugh after you saw Miguel roll his eyes from his brother's words.

You both head to the bedroom to finish wrapping presents from Santa for Gabi.

"Finally done. Now to put them under the tree." Said Miguel as he lays his head on your lap, relaxed by you combing your fingers through his hair.

"There's one more gift left." You grin down at him as he looks up at you confused.

"Where is it?" Miguel sighs softly thinking it's another large present to wrap from Santa.

"It will be here after Santa puts the presents under the tree." You say with hint of lust in your tone before you lean down and kiss him.

"I can't wait to see what it is." Miguel returns the kiss, getting the hint, as he grins and leaves your lap stacking all the presents as he quietly heads to the living room, careful not to wake Gabi.

You quickly get out of your day clothes already wearing it underneath. You had seen the holiday-themed lingerie when you were shopping, and you knew Miguel would love it.

Putting your clothes in the hamper you rushed to the master bathroom, taking your hair out of the low hanging bun, fixing it up a bit. You check yourself in the mirror happy with the final product. You were wearing dark red lingerie, with a bra that tied in to a semi large bow in the front, which once untied reveals your bare chest. To match you wore the same color panties that had a bit of tulle around it, creating a extremely short, really a skirt, skirt. But who cares, it was going to be tossed to the floor in a matter of minutes anyways.

You checked the time on your phone, it's was midnight, officially making it Christmas. When you hear his footsteps coming, you lean against the bed as soon as he opened the door.

When his eyes met yours, they widened before being filled with lust, as he made his way over to you. He grabbed you by the waist as he pulled you against his bare chest.

"Merry Christmas Miggy."

"Merry Christmas in deed, mi hermosa amor." Miguel looks you over, savoring every single detail of you. He too your chin and gently lifted it as he leaned down and kissed you, Persian galore of himself into you. Your core tightened at the feeling of his hard-on against your stomach.

"One more thing. Pull the ribbon." You smiled against his lips. Miguel kissed your lips one more time before doing as you said. In one swift pull, the perfect bow was gone revealing your chest. You could see the lust cloud his eyes more, and in a blink of an eye you were underneath him on the bed, as his lips kiss down from your neck, down to your breasts. "Tan hermosa." His lips latched on to one of your nipples, hitching your breath letting out a moan. His hand swiftly moved your panties to the side inserting a finger into your aching cunt. Another moan escaped your lips.

"Keep singing for me, cariño." Miguel con tied to mark up your breasts as he thrusted a second finger into you, curling his fingers knuckles deep.

"Mhmm please Miguel." You moaned out as you near your breaking point.

"You want to cum mi amor?"

"Yes, please Miggy." You groan as you feel the loss of his fingers. Before you know it, your straddle on top of him, as he slams you down on to his cock.

"Only good girls get to cum, and I thought you said this morning your were naughty. You want to cum? Bounce on my cock until I think you deserve your release." Miguel grinned.

You lightly glare down at him as his grin widens further. However, the need for your release was too much as you begin to move your hips. You rarely fuck in this position, so the feeling of his cock stabbing deeper into you was heavenly. Your clench against him, earning a groan from him.

"Damn baby, your so fucking tight."

At the pace you were going, your hips began to grow tired starting slowly lose your rhythm. However, Miguel being your savior grabbed your hips and began to move you up and down keeping up with your quick and rough pace. You began to feel your core tighten once again.

"Miguel please. Please." You whine out your brain begins to feel foggy only focusing on the feeling of his thick ridged cock thrusting in and out of you.

"Are you a good girl?" Miguel panted from beneath you.

"Y-yes I am. I'm a good girl. Now please Miguel." You whine out.

"Of course, cariño." Miguel chuckled as he flipped you, now in missionary as his pace quickened, pummeling his cock deep inside you as his balls slap against you. His hand lowered to your clit as he began to rub it with the same ferocity as his thrusts. Another moan escaped from your lips, electricity coursing through your entire body. Your eyes roll back as you feel your release.

Miguel continued to slam his cock deep inside you, causing you to feel your overstimulation coming on.

"Fuck, I love this damn pussy. I love you, y/n."

"I love you to Miguel." You breathed out. From your words Miguel let out groan as he released himself deep inside you, now filled full with his warm seed.

After a few more thrusts Miguel pulled out as he lied right next to you. You turned to face him as one of his arms warped around your waist pulling your sweaty naked body against his. He leaned down and captured his lips before saying, " Thank you for the wonderful Christmas present."

You wake up the next morning to Gabi jumping up on you bed, with a wide and happy smile.

"Wake up! It's Christmas! It's Christmas!"

Luckily after your session with Miguel last night you both cleaned up and got into proper pjs before going to sleep, knowing that Gabi would wake up before the both of you and barge into the room.

"Good Morning princesa. How did you sleep?" Miguel said in his deep and rough morning voice as he smile up at his daughter who was jumping for joy on the bed.

"Great! Santa came! He left a bunch of presents! Can we please open them. Please!"

"Alright, Baby bug. We'll get up." You chuckle as you get out of bed and swoop Gabi off her feet to which she giggled. You set her on the ground right next to you.

"Ok, first let's make coffee for me and Papa and then we will open presents."

After getting coffee you and Miguel sit next to each other on the sofa as you watch Gabi open up her many many many presents.

After she opened all of hers she handed you and Miguel one from under the tree.

Miguel opened his which, was a gift Gabi got for him, with you helping her with the funds to get it.

"Aw princesa I love it. I'll use it all the time." Miguel smiled as he held up a coffee tumblr that read, World's Best Papa and Scientist.

"Your turn Mama!"

You smile as you read the name tag, To the love of my life. From your Miggy. You rip off the wrapping paper to see a gorgeous thin red rectangle velvet box with gold stitching. You open the box, as a gasp leaves your lips. Your eyes lock with Miguel's who smiles lovingly at you.

Before you in the box was a simple but gorgeous Cartier gold chain necklace. In the center dangled three beautiful dark red rubies. Your heart melted as the color reminded you of Miguel's eyes. Even though his were brown, you swore in the light they glistened like beautiful dark rubies. You knew you would never take this off, knowing that a part of him was always with you.

"It's beautiful Miguel. I love it." Tears brim the corner of your eyes as you kiss his cheek before giving him a hug. "Can you help me put it on?"

"Of course, mi amor." Miguel smiled bright, happy you loved his gift. You turned your back as you pull your hair to the side as he put the necklace on you. A tiny chill went up your body as you felt the cold necklace lay against your neck. You trim back around as you looked to Gabi with a smile.

"It's beautiful Mama. You look gorgeous!"

"You look stunning." Miguel says.

You enjoyed the rest of the festive holiday cuddle up next to Miguel on the sofa watching holiday movies with Gabi sitting on the ground distracted with playing with her brand new toys.

You couldn't imagine a more perfect Christmas. A Christmas spent with your new family.

The last few days went by in a breeze. When you Miguel and Gabi weren't staying in the comfort of the warm apartment, you adventure out to the various holiday markets around the city, or gaze at the stunning Christmas decorations.

Today was finally December 31st. You and Miguel decided that with the chaos and drama still being thrown at both at you through text messages and voice mails you decide to have it just be you two and Gabi.

You were in the kitchen making dinner, saying you would be happy to make some classic dishes that you've had with your family.

Arms wrapped around your waist, as a smile graced your lips from a kiss placed to your cheek.

"Everything smells very good, cariño."

"Thank you. Do you want to try some?" You say as you held up a spoon with some of the food. He happily took it and smiled. "That tastes amazing."

"Thank you Miggy."

After dinner was served and happily enjoyed by the O'Hara's you all settled on the sofa as you watch the Nueva York New Years commencement.

You look down to see a sleeping Gabi who was sprawled out on your and Miguel's lap.

"I guess it's time she goes to sleep.She's so adorable." You say quietly as you gently brush back some of her curls.

"She is. I'll take her to bed."

"Ok." You smile as you place a goodnight kiss to the top of Gabi's head before Miguel lifted her up and carried her to bed.

After a few minutes Miguel came back as he sat right next to you on the sofa, wrapping an arm around you to pull you against him.

"Did she wake up?"

"Nope still was out like a light. Nothing can wake her up if she's asleep. Reminds me of a very someone." Miguel looks at you as he chuckled.

"What can I say, I love to sleep." You smile as you rest your head on him as you both continue to watch the tv.

The count down began on the tv as thousands of voices joined together in time square.

10...9...8... 7... 6... 5... 4... 3... 2...1!

Happy New year!

You joined in with the voices on the tv as you were standing, excitement etched throughout your body. Miguel pulled you against his chest, a big smile on his face before dipping you slightly and capturing his lips with yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you deepened the kiss. A few seconds later, your lips parted, lips both slightly swollen. As the New Year's music plays on in the background from the TV all you could pay attention to was Miguel.

"Happy New Year, Miggy."

"Happy New Year, mi amor. I can't wait to see what this year has in store for us." He smiles wide, showing his dimples before leaning down and kissing you again.

____________________________________________

Hope you enjoyed it!💕

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jazjelspen · 2 months

Text

scarlet and silver lining (part 1)

(alastor w/ daughter reader)

(fem reader/notproofread!/apologies for anything ooc qwq/apologies for the pacing as well!!!! It’s 1AM LMAO—)

[chapter 1]

Sure, you didn’t actually want to redeem yourself.

Personally, you knew you were in the right place and were meant to be in this spot in the afterlife. You weren’t bloodthirsty and power hungry like the rest of the monsters down here but your sins were from your reckless decisions and you knew you couldn’t take it back.

So in turn, you didn’t truly trust the princess’s claims and theories.

But here you were, in her hotel through her doorstep. Dragging you along by your wrist being gentle but also filled with such excitement that she might’ve tugged a bit too hard for your preference.

As she led you to introduce yourself to the other residents and staff, you couldn’t help but wonder why exactly you let yourself get into this predicament.

Then again, you didn’t really have a choice.

_______________________________

Your hands stopped from fixing your hair, you had been stunned from preparing yourself for the next twenty minutes you’d be on air. Your face contorting while your eyes stared dead at your reflection at the mirror decorated with bright little light bulbs all around it’s frame as they shined their lights on you. Your hands shaking slightly and barley starting to sweat.

Why exactly were you shocked? Your boss.

“See here ____, what I need you to do is to simply get in through inside the princess’s little hotel and spy for me for a few weeks here and there! Document everything for me, whichever way you can. “

Vox, your boss, was ordering you on a new mission for you to do. He wouldn’t have you do these kinds of things regularly unless he needed some kind of spy or a pretty face for a segment of his show to get more ratings or as a distraction of sorts. Although lately he’s been sounding more aggravated, annoyed—dying to get what he wants. He was facing the set his crew were preparing as they fixed a few lights, checked if the cameras were functioning, etc.

It was good that he was facing that way and you the other, for if he saw your look of shock and slight fear spreading across your face like a disease he would probably question you like some kind of unruly detective for it.

But why wouldn’t you react this way? After all, he was asking you to spy and be around your father. The man you were ashamed of being connected to. He didn’t know this— he didn’t have to know this. For you knew Vox would simply use and wear you out as a pawn, overwork you, maybe torture you and hurt you to get specific answers.

He wasn’t afraid of doing anything to get what he wants anyway.

“Tape recorder, journal, write it on some fucking menstrual pad I don’t fucking care. I simply need to know what that fucker is thinking of doing next with Lucifer’s daughter now on his fucking shoulder.”

He snapped, static overtaking his voice at the end of his sentences. Clearly absolutely finished with this entire situation especially since for all you knew the last time someone tried to sneak in for him they were caught in the matter of a day, and if you didn’t have a direct connection to Vox he would’ve sent you first.. but now you were one of his only options until he really got frustrated.

“Oh but do this for me and you’ll get your own little studio! Your own show! Be your own boss, have your own crew.. you get the idea. All financially supported by me! Oh and you even get to live by yourself.. although—

I still own you. Get that. But you get your little artistic freedom huh sweetheart? What do you say? Do this little favor for me? If you don’t I’ll simply.. kill you.

Or throw you in the streets. Depending on how badly you fuck up you’ll get either one of the two! You’ll die either way.”

You were left a bit shocked, the immense dump of information overwhelming you so. “I—I—“

“Good.” He cut you off.. geez. “You start in two days, two days to get what you need and to at least plan how you’ll keep me updated. And remember, you give me all the information either throughout your stay there or you spit it all out when I need you to still be here on the job.” He fixed his bow tie walking towards the set to start the broadcast, a strong frown decorating his screen before hiding his stress with a cocky smile for the cameras.

You looked at your reflection with a grim look on your face, heart sinking and a shaky sigh escaped.

You didn’t want to see him again. You couldn’t.. you— wouldn’t.

But you needed to do it whether you liked it or not. You knew this.

Survive, get a few more perks and bonuses that would very much make you live your afterlife a bit more comfortably.

It’s just gonna be a month right?— Fuck.. Vox didn’t specify how long simply just… a few weeks. Most likely he just wants you to be there as long as you could.

Keep your life, get a better job, better home home, stay protected. That’s what you’ve been focusing for all these years—

Why stop now.

____________________________________

Dragged by the princess you were stopped in front of a group of sinners, your other hand almost losing its grip on your suitcase but managed to catch it by the tips of your fingers. The sweat from the anxiety that was accumulating while on your way here.

It weirded you out a bit that Charlie didn’t react to your drenched hand. maybe she was too overwhelmed with emotions as well to notice?…

Charlie set you in front of a pink spider, someone you knew all too well from the constant advertisements, short interactions with him, and Valentino’s undying yapping, Angel Dust.

“Angel, meet ____, _____ meet Angel!! She’s going to stay here for a chance at redemptiooon!! How amazing!” Her excitement was pouring out like thunder and lightening, just simply uncontainable.

The pink soul darted its eyes at you with a sense of familiarity. You knew being a known figure would be a bit of a challenge but god— you really wanted that place to yourself.

“Heyy.. Angel..” you waved a little sheepishly, knowing how awkward this feels for you at least.

Angel eyed you a bit intensely, but you knew deep down he sorta understood why you’d be here as well— at least not knowing that Vox himself sent you here—maybe he thinks that your presence is due to the same reason he’s away from Valentino. Needing an escape from your abusers and bosses was something he understood all too well.

“Hiya cutie, didn’t expect to see you here of all places.” He smirked as he waved back at you but in a more confident and laid back way than you did.

Charlie paused at his words, “Oh? You two know eachother?—“

“Oh.. I know this adorable face anywhere!” Angel exclaimed proudly with one of his arms reaching over to squish one of your cheeks playfully, you laughing a bit due to the slight awkwardness of the situation but also because he was one of the very few people you never had issues with despite how much you guys never really talked much.

“She’s a real darling, hard worker and all. Although.. didn’t think your boss was that bad as to make you want to run in here of all places..”

“I was about to say— aren’t you that chick that is on TV for that one overlord’s show or somethin’…” a low and almost growly voice spoke from slightly farther away.

Looking towards that particular direction you are met with a cat-like person, a furry soul with fluffy ears and a seemingly insatiable thirst for alcohol the way he drank down a large bottle of cheap booze like water.

Your shoulders raised up a bit in embarrassment, smiling as a way to cover up your nervousness that was already slipping.

“Didn’t we also literally catch Pentious trying to work for him literally not that long ago?.. At this point they aren’t even trying to hide it by sending her here.” Spoke another, this time a more serious female voice descended from a mature woman with long silver hair and an ‘X’ over her eye that resembled those of the exorcists.. huh.

You shook your hands together a bit as you tried to defend yourself in a way, not wanting to be caught this easily “Oh nonono!.. I’m not here because my boss sent me I— I just..—“

“Yknow what Vagina,” Angel interrupted you to glare at the woman that spoke “If you knew anything about how the V’s treat their employees you wouldn’t blame her and I for wanting to be away from them and anything work related.. got it toots?”

Your heart warmed slightly but also let out a huge sigh of relief. Maybe that wasn’t the real reason why you were here but you were glad to know that Angel was someone you could relate the most due to your very similar situations.

“Yea Vaggie! Let’s give her a chance! If Angel knows her and if we make sure she’s here for reals then she’s a perfect second official resident!!”

The girl, now named Vaggie by Charlie, rolls her eyes as she lets out a sigh. “Can we at least check if she has no electronics on her. If this turns out to be another Pentious I will not hesitate this time.”

A single glare from her one eye piercing you with a sharp and merciless spike. Making you feel even more nervous and unwelcomed but.. you knew you had to just keep going..

“Oh Vaggie no need to be so rude to our new guest! We can do those checks later! Right now it’s introduction time!!” She exclaimed almost jumping up a down, a bit too joyous for your liking.

Angel noticed this and side eyed you while whispering a cheeky comment to you “Ms. Rainbow pants here may be a bit much but you’ll get used to it sweetcheeks.” He said, with a tone more sounding of an older brother of sorts.

You smiled a bit at him but then looked away to try to relax, not excited to be ‘introduced’ to someone you knew was in the far.. far corner of it all.

“Oh and this is Vaggie! My girlfriend and manager of this establishment! If you have any issues or concerns you may check in with her, she’s a-ma-zing!” Despite making her sound helpful and less.. terrifying. You couldn’t help but still feel rather intimidated.

Vaggie continued to glare at you with a clear distrust in you. You just waved at her shyly as well, trying to at least not seem as dangerous as she may think you are.

Until Charlie once again dragged you to four other figures, the fourth one a bit behind the first three. “And this is Husk the bartender, Nifty our housekeeper and cook, and Sir Pentious! Pentious being one of our first official residents!”

She spoke each name by pointing to which name belonged to who, Pentious’s name ringing a bell but it was new seeing his appearance. So this is the guy that forced Vox to drag you here instead..

Husk, the cat that spoke earlier simply looked at you and didn’t give another word, downing yet another bottle. Pentious waved at you with the same energy you gave as well but was more or less focused on his ‘eggs’ that were poking at the flesh around his eyes on his tail and Nifty.. well..

She was on top of you, more specifically— your head.

She was sniffing you, eying you like a fucking hawk, inspecting you as if you could be contaminated with a dying virus— your breath hitched as you hoped she wouldn’t smell the fear growing on you as your skin went cold.

“Fairly.. clean….” She then backed up slightly to inspect your eyes with her own giant one only to then scurry off across your body like a bug, causing you to get disgusting goosebumps.

“Pretty.. smells nice.. no dirt—“ she then stopped by suddenly standing in front of you with a big ol’ smile as if what she just did was incredibly normal.

“Hiya! I’m Nifty! Had to make sure you weren’t bringing any filth in the hotel.. I just cleaned this place…” She took out her little hand for you to shake.. being hesitant but not willing to be rude to someone this peculiar— you shook her hand with just two of your fingers and before you could pull away yourself she then immediately scurried off as fast as she came.

“And then last but not least—“

“Alastor! Quite a pleasure, a real pleasure to get to meet you young lady! Please, feel free to be welcomed into the Hazbin Hotel!” Alastor, the radio demon, dad— approached you with such enthusiasm and enticement. As if he couldn’t wait to talk to you.

Your blood ran cold, eyes widened with fear, your free hand clutched tightly at the handle of your luggage as Alastor took the other to then put it up to where his smile was, not kissing it or having your hand too near his lips but still keeping courtesy of when meeting a woman as he usually would.

Even in death, he stays a gentleman as per usual.

“My my.. you poor soul. To have to run away from your employer down to this place.. why he must be a terrible person, isn’t he?”

Ah right.. Vox and Alastor hated eachother. You knew this very well.. you honestly didn’t know much about why they hated eachother other than the running joke that Vox most definitely lost a fight with him.

You died years later after Alastor did so you don’t exactly have the full scoop. Him dying in your late teens and you dying in your mid to almost late 20s. You lived life yet— some would say not enough.

“Poor thing, not to worry! Let this be your safe house! Your haven, your asylum, your refuge!” He exclaimed each two sets of words by twirling you around in an exaggerated manner, in a style reminiscent of the way dancers would spin their dance partners in the 30s. You recognized this move all too well— feeling almost nostalgic.

Although you were slightly grateful for one thing he was doing right.. not being overly revealing or announcing the one big fact you two had between the both of you.

You didn’t need that fact to be running around the place like some kind of daily gossip.

Before your anxiety would make you burst in crying or throwing up right in his face you immediately tugged your hand away, his own keeping your wrist in his palm.

“Thank.. you—“ your hand holding the luggage let go to try to tug his hand from holding you any longer until you then finally managed to pull his grip away from off of your other wrist in order to create more space between him and you from the immense anxiety you were having, your lungs threatening not to quicken and burst like balloons. You immediately went back to hold onto your luggage once more.

“How.. welcoming..” you pretended as if you were dusting off your clothes and your arms as if trying to tidy yourself up instead it really meant to give you a few more seconds to collect your thoughts properly.

‘God.. everyone knowing I’m with Vox is only going to make this real fucking hard— I didn’t think this entirely fucking through..’ ah yes.. you totallyyy weren’t panicking about this now active interaction the past two days huh—

‘just act calm and cool _____, you need that money, you need that place, you need that show, you need protection.. stick to the plan..’

“Uh— how humble!.. of your Hotel staff to be so.. welcoming— your highness.” You spoke to Charlie, smiling brightly as if all of this was just casual conversation.

“A real treat seeing dear ol’ Angel Dust here, good to see a familiar face ain’t it Angie?” You turned slightly towards the pornstar, with him returning your comment by exclaiming with a “Damn right!”

Charlie smiled intensely with a nod, face full of joy and innocence. “I’m so sososo glad you like it here so far!! Your experience here won’t be disappointing! You’ll have an absolute blast!—

oh oh!! Can’t forget! We have to get you to your room! If you’d like you can stay there and rest or come down here and join us! Whichever you feel comfortable with.”

“Why thank you very much your highness, your hospitality sure is a darn nice breath of fresh air compared to the rest of hell. Bunch of cats and dogs fighting like wild animals out there.. need a real break once in awhile..” you spoke as you followed Charlie as she lead the way to your room, giving you a minor tour of the hotel before letting you rest in your new humble abode.

Your act, although part sincere and true, was full of holes. Holes not enough for the normal gaze to see but they are clear enough for him to see.

Alastor would eye you as you followed the princess, his fingers uncurling and curling around his staff slowly and menacingly. His sharp pupils narrowing while aligning with his grin as it expanded with a sense of mischief holding it up by its ends.

He saw right through you, of course he would, he knows when you lie, know when you’re honest, when you’re afraid and happy.

Why lie to him my dear? If you know that he knows you like the back of his hand.

Either way he knows he’s going to have to catch you alone at some point, he must catch up to what he’s missed throughout the years he’s been gone from the living world and even in hell.. although you made it clear the last time you met in hell that you don’t want to see him again he finds it curious how you’re even here at all.

Oh but.. gosh.. how much his little girl has grown.

_________________________________

You were a two months from turning 7 years old now, being adopted almost a year ago was the most prolific moment in your young life. Your grandmother, her real name being Adelaide but you preferred to call her Nana or Grandmama… Nana was better for your little voice to stretch out more easily and faster.

She was always such a darling to you, treating you as if you were one of her own. She told you true most amazing and beautiful stories, shared and sang the most wonderful lullabies and songs that sometimes Alastor would join in on, would make delicious food that you adored throughout your childhood, love you unconditionally the way a grandmother would.

And technically you were hers through papers but sometimes it felt as if it was inconsistent in certain areas.. mostly with Alastor.

Alastor was a peculiar man, as famous and passionate as he was he certainly didn’t have a heart of gold, only open to those he truly cares for like his mother and his radio show. It was as if his heart was surrounded from the sky to the depth of the ground with rusty fences and sharped barbed wire that only allowed very few people and things being let into his life.

You tried to get close to him around this time, bringing him little gifts you made and trinkets you’d find that reminded you of him as a way to get closer.

But he always just smiled at you, gave you a pat, and either said ‘good job’, ‘oh how cute, leave it at my study now won’t you?’ ‘I’m sure your Nana would love it.’ And go right back to what he was doing..

You didn’t understand why that happened— but it seems as if he didn’t bother to get close to you simply because you were a gift to his mother, a granddaughter she wanted to have but he couldn’t give unless through legal assistance,

you were for her to love— not for him to raise.

At least that was the case at this point in time.

It was weird.. you never truly has any terrible or bad interactions but— yet it made you disappointed each time, made you crave for his attention. After all— he’s supposed to be your father. Why wasn’t he paying attention?..

You were currently in your room sitting at your desk, papers scattered with different colored wax and pencils messily thrown around on the surface.

You were drawing something, a gift as a last chance to get him to notice you properly. You even had a special gift that your Nana helped you pick out for him! Surely, your dear dad would notice you now right?

Scribbling the last few finishing touches you then dropped the pen on the table as you exclaimed a little “Aha!” And raising the drawing up high, feeling proud of your masterpiece!

You quickly set the drawing down as you then hopped off your chair to a cower through a little playbox full of toys you had, only to search for one single thing. Once your tiny finally felt the touch of wood and slight metal, you grabbed it and pulled it out with yet again another delightful glee.

It was a small radio shaped wooden charm, the metal being the small little ‘hand’ that moved whenever the radio was operating and transmitting audio frequencies. The perfect gift for papa!

You then quickly grabbed the drawing off your desk, both your gifts in hand your little feet went pitter patter as you ran to the dining room where Alastor was having lunch freshly made by his mother.

Your Nana having recently left the home to get a few emergency groceries, made this a good time for just him and you to connect.

“Papa! papa!” You squealed, Alastor’s brows furrowing at several elements in his surroundings annoying him slightly..

“_____, no running in the house remember? Cant have too much noise disturbing our home.” Despite his scolding you couldn’t help but to just giggle and almost jump in excitement in what you’re planning to give him. He continued “Besides as I have mentioned many times before, call me Al—“

“But papa! Papa!— look!—“ you interrupted him, your voice projecting a bit more into a yell as to have him look at what you have.

“_____, no yelling please dear. I can hear you quite well. I’m not a mile away..”

“Yes papa— b—but!.. look..! I made you something..” you then gently set the drawing up at the table first beside his food. Alastor’s attention finally set on the paper and even stopped eating to look at it. He picked it up.. his eyes inspecting it.

It was a drawing of you and him in a sunny flower meadow in a forest both you and his mother had a picnic in recently, except it was just the both of you here.

The drawing was definitely not the most perfect but it was definitely the cutest. Your scribbles somehow managing to immediately the shape of his hair perfectly, his glasses were visible and his red suit was very on parr with what he would wear on the daily, then there was you— your hair a bit more messily drawn than his and seemed more rushed.. as if you couldn’t yet wait to finish the piece. To top it all off it even had small scribbled words in pencil that said ‘papa’ and ‘me’ and an arrow pointing at each individual figure that fit that description.

Oh how cute.

You stared up at him closely, even for a young kid as yourself you were able to notice the way his usually dark and cold eyes had a twinkle in them, a sort of softness diluting his everyday smile ever so slightly.

It took him a second before you then set the trinket on the table where he picked up the paper from “And this is also for you papa.. nana helped me pick it out for you since I said I wanted to give you a present…”

His eyes darted towards the trinket and even picked it up, inspecting the work and its shapes along with the design of it as a whole. Admiring it almost.

His eyes darted back to the drawing, both hands with both gifts.

“Darling…”

Your little heart ran faster, your hopes were rising up to the heavens. Is he gonna say he was proud?.. he loves it? Adores it?.. hates it?—

“This is cute and all, but don’t forget to draw Nana in next time! She was at that picnic with us too remember!” He exclaimed as he smiled at you in an almost bittersweet way, his softness almost being wiped off entirely.

You frowned, “but.. I made it for you papa.. I’m always with nana so.. I wanted to make something for you!” You smiled fondly at him, trying to still hope for a ‘I’m proud’ from him.

“Aww is that so dear?” He spoke as he then set the gifts on the table on the opposite side of where you were, all while hiding behind a smile.

“Well just don’t forget to add Nana in next time, thank you darling for the lovely gifts.” And just like that he began eating.

Ah.. still the same— reaction. It was a bit better.. it wasn’t just a short and quick sentence at least so that made you smile a bit but.. you expected much more.. a hug, a proud smile.

“Yes, papa…” you then slowly walked off back into your room. A bit down but you weren’t going to let that ruin your smile, Nana always told you and papa to always smile no matter what. So that’s what you’ll keep doing. Even if— your expectations were dearly hurt today.

What you didn’t see was Alastor yet again inspecting the gifts you gave him after you left, a hand tilting it a bit to see it clearly and to have the trinket closer to the figures of the both of you.

His permanent smile’s ends stretched a bit, a ‘hm’ escaping his throat as he took another sip from his black coffee.

He never truly saw himself as your father, never fully taking care of you unless his mother asked him to.

Ah but, it was nice to think that way huh?

(HAIIII THABK YOU FOR READING THISSSS I had lots of fun writing this and omfg I have so many idea for Vox and reader interactions, especially when the plot thickens. But thank you so much for the wait on chapter 1 of this story!! I know the prologue has been awhile but I reallyyyy want to continue this since this is my very first original alastor and daughter fanfic that I’ve written years ago and want to revamp into this!!)

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