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soaps-mohawk · 3 months

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 4 - You Can Be Useful

Summary: You have a long weekend that ends rather unexpectedly. Perhaps that’s not such a bad thing.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, some brief violence at the end.

A/N: I'm in a bit of a crisis so you're getting a bonus chapter this week. It's a beefy one and I wrote like 90% of it yesterday, just had the brain sludge by the time I was close to finishing and decided to rest before I finished and edited. Things are starting to get a big suggestive here, so as a reminder, this fic will have NSFW content in later chapters so please do not interact with it if you are under 18. I'd hate to have to block you.

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“How are you settling in?”

“Fine.” You shrug.

“Any instinct to nest at all?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“That’s fine.” Dr. Keller says, writing something down. “It’s only been just over a week. Have you started kneeling for Captain Price yet?”

You shake your head again. “No.”

Dr. Keller tilts her head. “Why not?”

You shrug again. “He hasn’t brought it up.”

“Is that something you’d like to start doing?”

Her question catches you off guard again. You’re not used to being asked what you want, afterall you’re an omega. That’s not important. You’re here to serve. To do as you’re told. You remember watching your mother kneel for your father while he watched TV, her dazed, glazed over eyes staring at nothing as he almost seemed to hypnotize her into the shell of a perfect omega. It was your first taste of truly how much power alphas could hold over omegas. One hand on the back of your neck and it’s over.

“I...I don’t know.” You say, picking at your sleeve.

“You’re allowed to want things too.” Dr. Keller leans forward just slightly, giving you a smile. “I highly doubt Captain Price will make much of a fuss if you ask for something you need. He cares about you. If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be sitting here alone.” She tilts her head at you, watching you pick at your sleeve. “Is there anything you want or maybe need that you haven’t asked for?”

Softer blankets. A fluffier pillow. Different body wash and shampoo. New clothes. A picture or a poster or something to make your room seem less clinical. Your instincts to finally start kicking in. Price to want you as much as he’s supposed to. Ghost to like you. To go back in time and let Soap kiss you.

To go back in time and never present as an omega.

“No.” You finally answer, shaking your head. “I’m fine.”

Dr. Keller stares at you for a long moment. You avoid her gaze, picking at the seam of your sleeve. “I know you’re going to get tired of me saying this, but it’s important that you understand that this is a safe space for you. Everything that we discuss, everything that you say in here stays between you and me. Doctor-patient confidentiality is something I firmly believe in, even when it comes to alpha/omega relationships. Okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” You say quietly, still avoiding her gaze.

She continues to stare at you for a moment before she leans back on the couch again, shuffling some papers around. “The two betas, Sergeant Garrick and Sergeant MacTavish. How are you getting along with them?” She continues with her questions.

“Fine.” You lean back in your chair, hoping it might swallow you whole. “They’re easiest to get along with.”

Dr. Keller nods. “Good. I’m a strong advocate for organic pack bonding. Helps avoid any dynamic struggles or false instincts down the line. How are you sleeping?”

“Fine I guess.” You shrug. “I nap a lot.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Omegas need a lot of sleep and I can imagine adjusting to a new schedule has been rough.” Dr. Keller moves the papers to the couch next to her, looking up at you. “Is there anything you want to talk about?”

You hesitate, pulling at the seam of your sleeve. It’s beginning to unravel a bit from your nervous picking. You’ll have to fix it. Dr. Keller is right, though. You could just ask for a new one. Price had told you they had a budget for your needs, plus they do get paid well. Anything you needed, they would gladly get for you.

You just have to ask.

It’s the asking that you’re not sure you can do. It feels strange to ask anything of your new pack. They’re supposed to be the ones needing things from you. If Soap had wanted to kiss you, he could have. Instead he left it up to you. He let you decide. You wonder if Price’s hesitation to move forward has been because he’s waiting on you.

They’re all waiting on you, except maybe Ghost. They’re waiting on you to make the first moves, on you to set the pieces on the board. What is the first move? How do you set the pieces? Did you even need to? Would they fall into place organically if you just left them alone? Or would the tension continue to build up, would you continue to affect them until it became too much and the pressure causes everything to blow?

“I’m affecting them.” You say, the words slipping out before you can stop them.

Dr. Keller tilts her head as she stares at you. “What do you mean?”

“They’re soldiers. They’re good soldiers with years and years of training, that’s why they're here. But...but I’m changing that. I asked Price if I could go with them and watch them run a training course cause I read in a book that I should get to know them and the things they like and so I was just curious what they do during the day when I’m not with them. He let me watch and he told me their top speeds running the training course but...none of them met those times with me there.”

You take a deep breath, the words pouring out of you easily now. You feel as if you’re not even thinking of them, not even measuring them or using caution as you normally would in any conversation. They’re slipping out from somewhere deep inside and now that you’ve opened that dam, you can’t stop it.

“Price made them run through it five times and they still couldn’t match their top speeds. He said it was a good thing that they figured that out, that they need to know how I’m affecting them and how to adjust to me. And every time they ran through it, I couldn’t stop thinking about...”

You take another breath, the air catching in your lungs. Your fingers are shaking, your body sinking deeper and deeper into the chair, almost as if you’re trying to get it to swallow you whole. As if the chair might wrap its arms around you and pull you into its softness and keep you there until you can’t breathe and it suffocates you.

“What if it was me? What if they were having to rescue me? I know that’s a risk, a low one, but it’s still a risk. The CIA and Kate warned me that I could become a target if the wrong person found out about me. That’s why I can’t know anything about what they do because that puts me at more of a risk, and I could be a threat to them and the entire world if something got out that wasn’t supposed to.”

You’re breathing heavily as the words finally come to a stop. Dr. Keller’s eyes are shining with sympathy as she stares at you. This is the most you’ve ever opened up to her, the most words you feel you’ve ever spoken to her in the two times now that you’ve met.

It feels good. It feels really good to voice your thoughts and your fears to someone on the outside, someone you can trust won’t tell anyone. You couldn’t voice these fears to your pack. They’re used to this kind of thing. They live with the knowledge they could die at any point, that any mission might be their last. How many lives have they seen lost, how many close calls have they had? You’ve seen scars already on arms, hands, faces. How many others are hidden where you can’t see?

How many scars do they have inside, too?

“I want you to know that your fears are very valid.” Dr. Keller says, her voice soft. “Being involved in the military comes with a lot of risks, and then you get to places like this and those risks only get greater and greater. I can’t promise you that something like that won’t ever happen, because we have no way of knowing. The risk is not zero for a reason.”

Dr. Keller stands from the couch, moving to the chair next to you. The calming beta scent washes over you, and you know you have to be stinking up the room. She turns the chair slightly to face you, leaning forward onto her knees. You can see the imprints on the sides of her nose from where she’d been wearing glasses earlier.

“That risk is also only low for a reason. Your identity has been well hidden, just like those of your pack’s. You’re on a well protected and secure military base. This place is a black square on Google Maps. I know, I tried looking it up when I found out where I was being assigned.” She reaches out, squeezing your arm gently. “And I highly doubt your pack would ever let anything happen to you. Packs are highly protective over their omegas. Even bad alphas can’t fight that instinct when their pack is threatened. Your pack would quite literally go to war for you.”

She is right, you know she is. Yet that fear continues to wiggle at the back of your mind. You know they’d never let anything happen to you, but they’re going to start leaving soon. What if something happens while they’re not here? Who will help you then? The other soldiers? The betas that stare and the alphas that catcall you?

“I guess you’re right.” You say, continuing to pick at your sleeve. At this rate, by the time your heat starts, you’ll have unraveled the whole sweatshirt.

The buzz of your phone on your nightstand pulls you from your half asleep state. Your book is on the floor, having dropped from your hands and slid off your bed as you drifted off. Your lamp is still on, casting a warm glow around your room. You prefer the softer light compared to the fluorescent overhead, as most omegas do. There’s something too clinical and sterile about fluorescents.

You grab your phone, pushing yourself up onto your elbow as you try to blink the sleepiness away. It’s not terribly late, but you’ve been feeling the exhaustion all day since your conversation with Dr. Keller.

“Be ready by 0500 tomorrow. Wear something meant for the outdoors.”

It’s a text from Price, your brow furrowing as you read it over. Five in the morning on a Saturday? That’s the earliest you’ve had to get up since your arrival on base. And wear something meant for the outdoors? You can only imagine what he has planned for the day you had been planning on spending sleeping.

You make a quiet noise of indignation as you text back in confirmation, setting an alarm so you can be ready by 5 am. Not up by 5 am, ready by 5 am. You have half a mind to call him, or to text back asking why he feels you need to be up before the sun. You know that’s the normal time they begin their mornings during the week, usually when you hear them up and moving around, getting ready to go work out. That’s usually when you roll over and go back to sleep for another hour and a half before your own alarm gets you up for breakfast.

You pout a little as you set your phone back on your nightstand, reaching down to grab your book and set it next to your phone. You lay back down on your bed, turning off your lamp and bathing the room in darkness. Well, it’s not totally dark. The light from the lamp outside shines in your window, casting cold shadows across the walls and floor. You’ve never been a fan of total darkness. You’d grown used to having some light in the room at The Institute. One of your roommates had insisted on having a nightlight, and there were many nights you were grateful for it as you laid awake at the mercy of your racing mind.

A nightlight.

You add it to the mental list of things you want, but you’ll never feel brave enough to ask for.

Your alarm rings too early in the morning, your hand lifting to silence it quickly. 4:30 am doesn’t feel like a real time as you rise in darkness, hand fumbling for the switch to your lamp. You glare into the dimly lit room, trying to blink the sleepiness from your eyes. How desperately you want to curl back up under the blankets and sleep until someone knocks on the door to check on you because you’ve slept so long into the day.

You don’t doubt Price will knock in about 30 minutes to get you up. He’ll be disappointed if you ignore him, you think. He wouldn’t punish you if you went against his wishes, would he?

You don’t know that.

You haven’t even thought to push that boundary, nor have you discussed it. You don’t want to. You’re a good omega.

You’re a good omega.

You repeat it over and over as you get yourself ready, splashing cold water on your face to wake yourself up. You silently thank Kate as you pull on a pair of cargo pants and hiking boots, assuming that’s what Price means by “something meant for the outdoors.” Had she bought the items in anticipation of something like this happening? You are on a military base. You should have expected you’d be pulled into something like this eventually.

You’re debating on a jacket by the time the knock comes, right at 5 am. You wonder how long Price has been standing in the hallway, or if he’s perfected arriving right on the dot after years of expected punctuality. You decide on the jacket after checking the weather, slipping it on as you open the door. He hadn’t mentioned needing anything, not that you own any sort of supplies for the outdoors anyway.

He doesn’t say anything as you open the door, instead motioning with his head to follow. You quietly close your door, expecting the others to be waiting for you, but their doors are all closed and they’re nowhere to be seen. You feel slightly nervous as you follow Price out into the cold morning air, glad you decided on the jacket as your breath steams from your lips.

Price is dressed in his usual boots and cargo pants with a cargo jacket and a beanie instead of a bucket hat. There’s two packs leaning against the side of the building, Price grabbing one and approaching you.

“What are we doing?” You ask quietly as he helps you put on the backpack, buckling it across your chest.

“Going for a hike.” He says, putting on the other backpack.

“Why?” You ask as he turns on a flashlight, handing it to you before turning on another one for himself.

“I’ll explain when we get there.” He says simply, motioning for you to follow him.

You hesitate for half a moment. A hike in the dark? The base is surrounded by forest, but you sometimes forget due to the sprawling nature of the buildings, and your usual ventures outside the barracks being to either the mess or the medical center, all of which were central on the base.

Why does he feel the need to hike in the dark? Surely it’s more dangerous, especially for someone not quite so physically inclined like you. If he wanted to go on a hike, why hadn’t he just said that to begin with? Maybe he would have, had you asked why last night instead of just immediately agreeing.

Going into the woods alone in the dark with an alpha you barely know.

Anxiety twists in your stomach for a moment before you force your feet forward, walking fast to catch up to him. He leads you down one of the roads on base, your boots crunching as the ground changes from asphalt to gravel. Your anxiety doesn’t lessen any as the trees loom high above you in the darkness, the forest like a black void before you.

Your brain thinks up all the land predators that might exist in England. Do they have bears? You’ve seen Brave, but that’s in Scotland. What about big cats like cougars or mountain lions? Are there racoons in England?

You’re on a military base, you think. Surely they have means to keep out large predators that might be dangerous.

Your pack won’t let anything happen to you.

Dr. Keller’s words float through your mind as you follow Price through the underbrush and into the trees. You’re not following any path, at least that you can see, though your experiences in the outdoors have been very limited since you left home. Your dad liked to camp and hike, and often you and your siblings were subjected to his weekend and holiday trips into the wilderness.

You missed them in the early days at the Institute. You missed a lot of things back then.

“What’s eating you back there?” Price asks as you weave through trees and underbrush.

“There’s nothing...dangerous out here...is there, sir?” You ask, narrowly avoiding taking a branch to the face. “Bears or mountain lions?”

Price chuckles. “The worst thing you might find is a stray badger or a snake that got through the fence somehow.”

“Oh.” You say, shining the flashlight around you. “That’s good.”

Price stops, turning to face you. “You’re fretting.”

“Well, we’re in the woods in the dark at an ungodly hour and you won’t tell me why, sir.” You pout.

“Do you trust me?” He asks, staring down at you with a hard look in his eyes.

You stare up at him, your grip tightening on the flashlight in your hand. “Should I trust you?”

He straightens up a bit, the corner of his lips twitching. “That’s something you have to decide.” He turns back around, starting to walk again. “All I can do is my best to try and prove myself to you. In the end, you’re the one that decides if I’m trustworthy or not.”

You’ve never thought of it that way. He could do everything in his power to get you to trust him, but in the end it is your decision. He hasn’t proven you wrong yet, but then again...it’s only been a week. You’ve known him for a week and you’re following him through the woods alone in the dark.

Your brothers would have a fit if they saw you right now.

“Do you trust me?” You find yourself asking as you continue to trek through the woods, narrowly avoiding hurting yourself on various occasions.

“You haven’t given me reason not to.” He answers, turning his head slightly to look at you over his shoulder. “I’d prefer it stayed that way.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, sir. I hardly think I’m much of a threat on any term. Well, at least I don’t think I am. Ghost seems to disagree.”

Price lets out a quiet huff, shaking his head. “Simon...Simon is a unique case. He’s good at his job, but that makes it hard for him to succeed in other areas. I’m sure Johnny has told you how much Simon couldn’t stand him at first. Now look at them.” He chuckles warmly, almost fondly. “He only sees you as a threat in your nature.”

You frown, glancing up at the sky. It’s beginning to turn grey with dusk, the trees seeming to come alive around you in the dim light. “What do you mean by that, sir?”

“You’re an omega. To bond with an omega, there is a degree of vulnerability required by the alpha. Being around omegas requires an openness that can be frightening if you’re not used to it.” He explains. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Simon isn’t the most open man.”

You snort quietly. “Hadn’t noticed, sir.”

Price chuckles at your answer. “You’re threatening to him, because you’re a challenge. Give him time. This entire situation is an adjustment for all of us, just as I’m sure it is for you too.”

You don’t know how to respond to that statement. It is an adjustment. Joining any pack was, but a pack like this...a pack that has you tramping through the woods at 6 am for a reason you don’t even know yet is a major adjustment.

Price stops after the sun has come up, taking a moment next to an outcropping of rocks. He clips your flashlight to your bag before unzipping it, passing you a bottle of water. You take it gladly, your mouth feeling dry after walking for so long.

“How much further?” You ask as he drinks his own water.

“Quite a ways.” He answers.

“Can I know why we’re doing this yet?” You ask as he zips your water back into your backpack.

“Not yet.” He says, continuing onward.

You let out an exasperated sigh, but follow him anyway. You don’t have much of a choice.

Your legs are beginning to get tired, and you’re starting to feel a bit hungry. You’re not sure if you should say anything, or if he’d even stop. You assume he’s packed food, or at least you hope so. You’re going to get grumpy if you’re traversing all over the forest for hours with nothing to eat.

Price slows his pace a bit as you approach what you think is a clearing. You can see a break in the trees ahead, the sun coming through brighter here. You’re sore and tired, your phone telling you you’ve been walking for just over two hours.

How big is this base?

You break through the treeline, finding a small clearing with what looks like a fire watch tower in the middle of it. It’s not what you were expecting, the many scenarios of why you had been dragged out of bed at an ungodly hour and forced to hike through the woods you’ve been thinking up the last two hours, did not end quite like this. You stare up at the tower, your head tilting back to take it in.

“Not scared of heights, are you?” Price asks, standing beside you.

“Maybe.” You answer, eyeing the staircase winding around it to get to the top.

“Come on.” He says, nudging you forward gently. “Up the stairs.”

The last thing you want to do after walking for two hours is climb a never ending staircase, but you don’t think you have much of a choice. Perhaps you can finally sit once you get to the top, and maybe you’ll even get to eat.

Price follows behind you as you take the steps, climbing slowly. Your legs are screaming, your feet aching in your boots. You wouldn’t be surprised if they’re bleeding a little, or if you wind up with blisters. You’re breathing heavily by the time you get to the top, sweat beading on your brow. Price doesn’t even seem winded behind you, and you’re sure he could have jogged up the steps if he wanted to.

The top of the tower is mostly empty except for a small table and two chairs. There’s no windows, the tower open between the railing and the roof. Price sets his bag on the table, unzipping it. You sink into one of the chairs, letting your bag drop to the floor.

“Can I know why we’re here now?” You ask him.

“Drink some water and take a breath first.” He says, pulling a couple packets out of his bag. MRE’s.

You dig your bottle out of your bag, taking note of the other contents inside. A few snack bars, a couple MRE’s of your own, another unopened bottle of water, and a book. There’s things in the other pockets but you don’t bother looking, guzzling down more water.

You stand from your chair, your legs almost buckling in protest as Price gets the MRE’s cooking. You lean against the railing, looking down over the forest that stretches out as far as you can see below.

“Can I know now?” You ask, knowing there has to be a good reason for him to bring you out here.

“A training exercise.” He says finally.

“A training exercise?” You frown, turning to look at him over your shoulder. It wasn’t a training exercise for you, was it?

“Sometimes when we get a specific target on a mission, the only thing we have to go off of is a general location and a scent.” He explains. “We have to be able to track that scent effectively, sometimes for miles. We run training exercises out here to test their ability to track scents to hunt down a target.”

You stare at the sprawling woods, beginning to understand. “So, they’re hunting a scent that will lead them here?”

Price chuckles lowly, his hands coming to rest on the railing on either side of you. Your stomach flutters as he leans in close, his scent strong in your nose as his breath fans your ear. “Technically, they’re hunting you.”

Your knuckles go white as they grip the railing, your blood pulsing in your veins. You’re well aware that some alphas like to hunt their omegas. There’s some primal urge deep within your brains to chase and be chased. You’re well aware of how it usually ends, the thought making your stomach clench.

“You gave me the idea.” Price says, the warmth of his body radiating through your jacket. “When you asked to watch them train, I saw how you affected them, I thought...maybe you can be useful for their training afterall.”

“Do they...do they know it’s me?” You ask as he steps back from you. You fight the urge to whine at the loss of proximity.

“They do now.” He says with a smirk. “They’ve already started, so if they can follow your scent successfully, then they’ll be here in about an hour.” He says, looking at his watch.

You frown a little. “But...we walked for two hours.”

He smiles a little, pointing to a break in the trees below you hadn’t noticed until now. “That trailhead is a 20 minute hike back to base.”

Your frown deepens. “But-”

“We weren’t walking in a straight line.” He explains. “We doubled back and recrossed the trail several times to try and confuse them, just as someone running from them would do.” He passes you one of the MRE’s. “That’s what I want you to do, if it ever comes to it. You don’t fight unless you have no other choice. You always try to run first.”

“Yes, sir.” You say, sitting down again. You don’t think you’d do much damage fighting anyway, but you don’t tell him that.

You open the package, peeking at the contents. Some sort of potato hash, you think, but you don’t really care. You’re so hungry you’ll gladly eat the mystery re-hydrated food. Price sinks into the other chair with a quiet sigh, digging into the food. It’s quiet out in the woods, the only other sound besides the two of you the sounds of birds.

You’ve always loved the woods, the quiet serenity of such isolation. You could imagine Price living in a log cabin miles from civilization, with animals and his own garden, happily living in quiet peace away from the stresses of life and war. You blame the fluttering in your stomach on the lingering thoughts of a chase, of a hunt. The thought of running, trying to evade soldiers who train to hunt others by their scents has goosebumps forming on your skin.

They’re not from the cold either.

The sun has disappeared behind clouds, the grey weather of England quickly becoming normal to you. You haven’t seen the sun much since you landed in London two weeks ago, and you’re sure you’re not going to see much of it for quite a long while.

“What’s got you all twitchy over there?” Price asks, breaking the silence.

You turn to look at him, your mouth open a bit in surprise. “How can you tell?”

“I’ve been trained to notice small details, sweetheart.” He says, grinning at you. “Your fingers always get fidgety first. Like you’re looking for something to do with them. Usually they disappear beneath your sleeves, or you start picking at your clothes. Your scent changes too. Subtly, but still noticeable.”

Oh god. You wince a little bit. He can still smell you, even outdoors in an open area.

“Your eyes start to move, looking all over the place, like you’re searching for something, or trying not to stare at one place too long.” He continues, making you want to sink deeper and deeper into the chair until you disappear. Of course he can read you like a book. They all probably can. “Your breathing always picks up, fast enough it’s noticeable if you’re paying attention. It’s easy to set you off too, sweet little thing.”

Warmth floods your face at his words and his stare, the back of your neck prickling. You meet his gaze across the table, the look in his eyes making you feel like you want to crawl under the table and hide. You hate that he can read you so easily. You won’t be able to hide anything from him.

He probably knows you already have.

You continue to hold his gaze, not backing down despite the intense tickling at the back of your neck. Touch alphas like a challenge, you repeat it over and over in your head.

Don’t back down.

A quiet growl rumbles through his chest, a shiver shooting down your spine so violently it nearly steals your breath. You fight the urge to bear your throat to him in submission, your head tilting back just slightly as your eyes squeeze closed. You’re panting, warmth pooling in your stomach as he chuckles lowly. He’s won, he knows it. You were never going to win. Nature was set against you. Your nature is to submit to him.

“Innocent little thing, aren’t ya?” He says, pulling a cigar from one of his pockets.

You know he smokes, you know they all do. You’ve smelled it on them many times, and it was to be expected. Your father hadn’t started until after he joined the Marines. Your mother hated it. “Dirty habit.” She always whispered as she smelled his uniform and the laundry he brought home from deployment.

He could have had worse ones, you always thought.

You can’t help but watch his lips curl around the cigar, the scent of tobacco permeating the air. His eyes are still on you, your own lips tingling a bit. You think back to how close you had been with Soap, inches from having your first real kiss. You regret it a bit now, not letting him kiss you. He wouldn’t have known he was your first, except perhaps by your awkwardness.

You wonder how many times they’ve all been kissed. You wonder how many times they've kissed each other. You wonder how many barrack bunnies Price has been with, how many other omegas he’s been with. You can’t imagine Ghost being one for barrack bunnies, but then your mind sinks somewhere deeper. Ghost in his mask with an omega bent over the side of his bed, his hand wrapped around the back of their neck...

Another shiver runs down your spine, your lower body beginning to pulse in time with your heart.

“What’s going through that head of yours?” Price asks, still staring at you.

“Soap almost kissed me a couple days ago.” You admit, not trusting yourself not to admit to the other things you’re thinking about.

Price’s brows lift in surprise. “Did you not want him to?”

Want. There’s that word again. You keep hearing it, but you’re not entirely sure what it means anymore. He’s asking to be sure that Soap didn’t force you into anything, even though you can’t imagine the beta doing such a thing. Betas usually weren’t aggressive without good reason, not like alphas.

“Well...no, that’s not it...” You say, your face burning as you begin to regret your choice of topic. “I...I haven’t kissed anyone before...well, not like a real kiss. At The Institute, there was this omega, she was...progressive. Nothing they tried could break her of that and she got into the heads of a few other omegas. One of my bunkmates decided she didn’t want an alpha to be her first kiss, so...I volunteered.”

Price continues to stare at you, a dark look in his eyes. You know some alphas like to watch omegas together. You’ve seen it in movies, things your brothers would put on when they were babysitting, things that would have gotten them hit over the head if your father found out.

“Is that so?” He finally says, flicking some of the ash from the end of his cigar. “Not even a real kiss before you presented?”

You shake your head. “No. I was...the weird kid in school. Most people considered it social suicide to be around me.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. “I bet quite a few of them are kicking themselves now.”

“Why didn’t you want Soap to kiss you?” He asks, concern lacing his voice. He’s still wondering if he needs to have a long chat with the young Sergeant, or perhaps take other action.

“Well...it wasn’t so much that I didn’t want it.” You say. “I just...thought you might be upset...if you weren’t my first...” You swallow nervously at his stare. “Since you’re pack alpha...you have the right to claim-”

“I wouldn’t care.” He cuts you off, almost as if he’s uncomfortable with the idea of him having all the rights to claim you. As if he was uncomfortable with the idea of holding a claim over someone else. “If you want your first kiss to be with one of the others, then you shouldn’t keep yourself from what you want.”

His words echo Dr. Keller’s. It confuses you, their willingness to allow you to want. You’re an omega, you don’t get to want. You get told what to do, what to wear. You get told what to want. You don’t make decisions, you sit and be a good omega for your alpha.

“I don’t know what I want.” You say quietly.

“Think about it.” He says, stubbing out his cigar. “I won’t be upset. Makes me feel a little better, in truth. Makes me feel less like an old creep trying to steal your innocence.”

You try not to smile at his words. “I mean...you are, in a way.”

He tsks at you but his eyes are playful as he checks his watch. “You’re trouble. We’ve got a few minutes before the hour is up. Let’s see if they can beat it.”

You stare out at the treeline, taking deep gulps of the cool air to try and calm yourself as you wait for the others to arrive. You’re still tingling a bit from your conversation with Price, that slight tickle still crawling across the back of your neck. You want him to hold you there, feel his calloused skin against yours, feel the strength of his fingers as they press into your skin. You want him to take all the turmoil away, the fear and the insecurity and the confusion.

You want to kneel for him.

You’re saved from your thoughts as a familiar figure breaks through the treeline, big and hulking and wearing a skull on his face. You’ve never seen him in this mask before, only ever seeing him in his balaclava. It’s a haunting image, only his eyes visible as he looks up at the top of the tower. Soap and Gaz appear behind him, the three of them making for the staircase.

Their boots echo on the steps as they race to the top, Soap the first one to appear with a wide grin.

“Aye, we found the target!” He exclaims, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you into the air and spinning.

You yelp, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hang on for dear life. He smells like musk and sweat, and you can’t help but wonder if they ran here. He sets you back on your feet, your legs aching in protest after sitting for too long. The soreness of your morning hike has caught up to you, and you’ll be feeling it for a few days.

“Not bad.” Price says, looking at his watch. “For the first time with a new scent.” He grabs his backpack, slinging it over his shoulders. “Come on, let’s get back and you can have the rest of the day off.”

You let out a whine in protest as Price grabs your backpack, gaining the attention of the four men. “You mean we have to walk back too?”

“It’s not even a kilometer.” Gaz says with a grin.

You pout. “I don’t know how far that is! I already had to walk for two hours this morning. My legs hurt.”

“You didn’t stretch before you started?” Soap asks.

“No! I didn’t know we’d be hiking halfway across the country when I was told to get up at 5 am!” You continue to pout.

“Come on, you’ll survive.” Price says, clipping your backpack across your chest again. “You can sleep for the rest of the day.”

You definitely have blisters, the sides of your feet burning as you walk down the stairs. You’re going to take a very long shower when you get back to base, and then crawl into bed and sleep until someone inevitably knocks because they’re worried about you. You’re still pouting, not having even thought about how you were going to get back to base.

Soap stops at the bottom of the steps, turning to glance at you behind him as he bends down slightly. “Hop on, hen.”

It takes you a moment to conceptualize what he’s doing before you break out in a grin, putting your hands on his shoulders to hoist yourself onto his back. His hands grip the backs of your thighs as you wrap your arms around his neck, holding on as he carries you piggy-back style.

“I’ve lifted weights heavier than you, bonny.” He says, not seeming to struggle at all with carrying you.

“Well, omegas are supposed to be small.” You say, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Aye, like a wee bairn.” Soap laughs.

He carries you all the way back to base, barely even breathing heavily by the time you break the treeline. The rocking motion of being carried, along with your exhaustion, has lulled you into a daze, your head leaning against his as you desperately fight sleep.

You’re jostled awake as Soap gently bounces you on his back. “We’re back, hen.”

You grumble sleepily, holding onto him tighter. “Comfy.”

“You’ll be comfier in bed, love.” Gaz says, stroking your hair.

“Carry me.” You murmur, both of them freezing.

“You sure about that, hen?” Soap asks. “You wan’t tae let us in your space?”

“Mmm...yeah.” You murmur, nuzzling Soap’s shoulder.

You miss the silent conversation between them in your half asleep state, the way Gaz’s hand hesitates on the knob, their slow, cautious steps into your space. It was a big deal, infringing upon an omega’s space. It’s sacred. One could only enter with permission, or if it was an emergency. Infringing on that space without permission could be detrimental.

Soap gently lowers you onto your bed, helping you curl up on your side. Gaz unties your boots, setting them on the floor next to the bed before pulling off your socks. He lets out a quiet hiss as he spots your raw and blistered feet.

“That’s going to hurt later.” He whispers. “No wonder she didn’t want to walk back.”

“Didnae say nothing either.” Soap says, his fingers trailing your cheek.

“Stubborn little omega.”

Gaz’s words are the last you hear before you’re lost to sleep, your brain forcing you to give in to your exhaustion finally.

It’s knocking at the door that wakes you. You’re not sure what time it is, or what planet you’re on. Your eyes are crusty with sleep, your pillow damp from drooling. You’re in your bed in the barracks, tucked under a blanket. You vaguely remember giving Gaz and Soap permission to enter before you were out again.

It’s still daylight, judging by the light around the edges of your curtains. Or maybe you had slept through the day and it was morning. You can’t tell, feeling a bit like you were hit by a bus and jumped dimensions.

“C’mon lass, ye got tae eat at least one meal today.” Soap’s voice calls through the door.

You let out a groan, pushing yourself up to sit. You haven’t even changed or showered, but your shoes have been removed. You flex your toes, wincing at the sharp pain from them. You pull the blanket off, staring down at your bandaged feet. They must be as blistered and raw as they had felt in your shoes. You don’t want to get up. You’re going to be sore and probably walking with a limp.

You know what they’re going to think.

The stares you’ll get.

Soon it will be for that reason, though, you think. Why not let them think it now? Then maybe by then they’ll be used to it and it’ll be much less mortifying for you.

You get up, padding barefoot to the door. You open it, rubbing at your eyes. “What time is it?” Your voice sounds rough with sleep, your tongue feeling heavy.

“Almost 1800 hours.” He answers. “Price let ye sleep. He and Gaz already ate. Had something tae take care of.”

You let out a quiet groan as you rub your eyes. You slept all day, past lunch and nearly past dinner. You likely would have kept sleeping, had they let you, but then you’d be up at an ungodly hour having to scrounge for food in the rec room.

“Get some shoes on.” Soap says. “We’ll get food in ye, then ye can sleep more.”

You let out a quiet grumble but do as he says, grabbing your most comfortable pair of shoes before following him out of the barracks. You let your hand slip into his, the base less populated on the weekend. The mess is still busy, though, most of those that stay keeping their schedules even over the weekend.

Soap helps you make your tray before finding Ghost sitting at a table. You deposit your tray across from them before going to grab something to drink. You look over the options, your sleep-drunk brain trying to decide on what you need.

“I recommend coffee.” A voice says behind you.

You spin around, looking up at a familiar face. Your stomach twists nervously, the back of your neck prickling. It’s the soldier that had been staring at you your second day on base, the one Ghost had scared off with his glare.

“You look like you need it.” He says, giving what you assume is supposed to be a friendly smile, except to you it looks like the grin of a hungry wolf in a storybook, and you’re the injured rabbit about to be devoured. You flinch just slightly as he holds out a hand. “I’m Corporal McKinney.”

You don’t want to take his hand, you don’t want to touch him at all. Catcalling you could handle, the stares and the whistles were nothing. None of them have been so brave as to approach you before now, and you’re starting to realize you prefer it that way.

An overwhelming scent suddenly washes over you, the prickling at the back of your neck intensifying. It’s rich and deep, the scent of leather and gunpowder lacing the ozone-like tang of anger, of danger.

“Can I help you, Corporal?” The deep voice rumbles behind you, the warmth close enough all you’d have to do was lean back slightly and you’d be touching him.

The soldier’s eyes lift from you to Ghost behind you, the wicked gleam to them fading as he stares down the giant alpha. “No, sir.” The soldier swallows thickly. “Just thought I’d introduce myself to the new omega on base. Figured we’d be seeing a lot of her around.”

“She’s no concern of yours.” Ghost says, a dangerous rumble vibrating at the edge of his voice. “You were given the briefing.”

He hesitates and you know he’s measuring the risk of staying, of saying something else. It’s not just the threat of a dangerous alpha, but also of his superior. “Of course, sir.” He finally says, eyeing you once more before he turns on his heel, leaving the mess.

“What do you want?”

You turn on your heel, staring up at Ghost. You’re shaking a little, staring up at him wide-eyed. You no longer feel the haze of sleep, wide awake and alert. Ghost is staring down at you, his scent far less prominent than it had been before.

“To drink.” He motions to the selection, waiting on you to answer.

You stare at the options, your brain trying hard to snap back into the present, to comprehend what you’re looking at. You’re on edge, on high alert after that confrontation.

“W-Water please.” You manage to stutter out,

“Go sit back down. I’ll get it.” He says, turning his back to you.

You scurry back to the table, still trembling as you take your seat again. You’re getting stares, likely from the change in your scent. It’s alerting every alpha and beta in close proximity, their instincts reacting to the scent of fear, of an threatened omega.

“Ye alright, hen?” Soap asks, giving you a worried look. The scent of beta washes over you, Soap projecting his scent to try and cover yours and calm you all at once.

You nod, trying to swallow the panic before you alert the entire mess to your current emotional state. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.”

Ghost returns with a glass of water, setting it in front of you before taking his seat again.

“Thank you.” You murmur, taking a long drink of it. It’s ice cold, the sensation shocking you back into reality a bit.

You’re still trembling slightly as you eat, the back of your neck still prickling. You glance around the quickly emptying mess, eyes following every person that walks too close to the table. You know you’re safe. Soap and Ghost would make quick work of anyone who tried anything.

Ghost did make quick work of the alpha that had approached you.

You’re still in a bit of disbelief that Ghost had come to your aid. You remember the anger burning in his scent, the rumble at the edge of his voice. An alpha poised for a fight. Of course, you were being cornered by another alpha. You don’t doubt Soap could have easily won that fight if he had to, but an alpha had the natural advantage in a fight against other alphas. If it had been a beta cornering you, would he have still come to your aid? Or would he have watched and let Soap handle it?

You're drawn from your thoughts as Soap’s phone rings, and he dismisses himself from the table to answer it. You wonder who it might be. Family maybe? Price? You wish you had someone that would call you regularly. You will, once they start leaving you.

You’re left alone with Ghost, your eyes trying to look anywhere but at him. He takes your tray once you’re done, going to dump it before motioning for you to follow. You’re still a bit shaken, though you’ve managed to get your trembling under control, as well as your scent.

He leads you back towards the barracks, your pace faster to keep up with him. Your feet hurt, but you’re eager to get back to the familiar safety of the barracks.

You stop as a whistle sounds through the air, Ghost’s steps faltering as well.

“Gonna go spread your legs for that freak, bunny?” A voice calls out across the courtyard. “I’m sure I could offer you a better time. At least you’ll be able to see my face.”

The smell of ozone washes over you again, burning straight to some primal part of your brain. You’re not sure if it’s the exhaustion, or the emotions still reeling from your confrontation in the mess, but you turn on your heel, stalking over to the group of soldiers. You’re trembling again, but not out of fear. The anger has gone straight to your instincts, burning hot through your veins.

The soldiers laugh as you approach, the one that had spoken grinning vilely at you. “Gonna take me up on my offer, omega?” The sound of your title from his lips nearly makes you shudder in disgust. It’s wrong, it sounds wrong being said in such a way. “I’d love to bend you over and stare at that sweet ass all night-”

It’s not until your hand is throbbing that you register what happened. The soldier stumbles back a step, hand moving to his face. Your hand is balled in a fist, knuckles throbbing from the punch you delivered to his face. The next few moments seem to move in slow motion, your body pushed backwards as a hulking form comes to stand in front of you. The scent of ozone is still burning hot in your nose, anger pulsing through your body. Your ears are ringing, your hands refusing to unball from the fists they’ve closed into. You’re breathing heavily, eyes training on a small speck of mud on the back of Ghost’s jacket.

“-You even so much as look in her direction again, I’ll rip your intestines out, tie them to the back of a humvee and drag you all the way to London, understood?” The dangerous rumble is back at the edge of his voice, his own hands balled into fists.

“Loud and clear, sir.” The soldier spits out, massaging his face from your punch.

A rough hand closes around your arm, making you stumble as you’re half dragged towards the barracks. You’re breathing heavily, breaths coming in gasps as the flood of emotions through you grows to almost be too much. You’re led down the hall towards the rec room, Ghost pushing you inside.

“Sit.” He snaps, pointing at the couch.

You scramble to sit where he pointed, your brain beginning to move in autopilot as you cradle your throbbing hand to your chest. It’s still curled in a fist, the adrenaline pumping through you preventing you from uncurling your fingers. You try to steady your breathing as Ghost digs around in the fridge for a moment. You flinch as the door slams closed, Ghost dropping an ice pack on the coffee table before he takes a seat next to you on the couch.

He grabs your hand, pulling it towards him rather roughly. He forces your fingers to uncurl, his own rough fingers digging into your hand, poking and prodding. He moves your fingers, bending your wrist and moving your arm. “It’s not broken.” He says, grabbing the ice pack and slapping it across your knuckles. “Luckily.”

You’re still trembling, your hand lifting subconsciously to hold the ice pack in place. You feel dazed, not unlike you had earlier when you’d been pulled from sleep, only this time you can feel the emotions still pulsing through you. The remnants of anger, the disgust, the fear both from attacking an alpha, and the reprimanding you’re sure you’re due for doing such a thing.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” You murmur, feeling far away, outside of your body looking in.

“Probably not.” Ghost says.

You turn slightly to look at him, pupils dilated as you simultaneously appear to see him and look straight through him. “Price is gonna find out.”

Ghost nods again, the burn of ozone gone from his scent. “He’ll believe you, though. Anything you tell him, he’s going to believe you over what anyone else says.”

You stare at him, the skull mask from earlier gone, leaving him just in his balaclava. His eyelashes are blonde, you think as you take him in, trying to ground yourself. His skin looks soft, but that could just be the omega screaming at you. You expect him to get up, to leave you alone until you find the will to move, or one of the others finds you. Yet, he stays where he is, eyes focused across the room as you sit there.

“You’re a purebred alpha.” You say, breaking the silence with the thought that had come to mind earlier. You need to keep talking, to keep your mind steady while you relax.

“How did you figure it out?” He asks, not denying it.

“Your scent.” You say, recalling earlier in the mess, the way his scent had permeated your entire body. You hadn’t just sensed it, you had felt it. His emotions, his anger, the hint of desperation for the Corporal to make the smart decision and walk away. “It’s different from other alphas. Price smells good and I’d like to roll around in his scent, but yours hits some deep primal part of my brain.” You say, turning slowly to face him. “Makes sense you’d end up in a position like this. You’re supposed to be like, an apex human.” You laugh quietly. “Just a couple of purebreds. What are the odds?”

“Very high.” He answers.

You laugh again. “Yeah, I know. Both of my parents were purebreds, and my grandparents. Both of them came from a long line of purebreds.” Your brows pinch into a frown. “I didn’t see it in your file, though.”

“I don’t want it to be.” He explains.

“Makes sense.” You say. “If I’d had that choice I’d have it left out too. As soon as someone sees it, that’s how they measure your worth. It’s not about you anymore, it’s your status they want.” You lift the ice, moving your fingers. Your hand is sore, your knuckles starting to swell a bit.

“It’ll bruise.” He says, staring down at your hand.

“‘Spose it could have been worse.” You say, grimacing at the ache pulsing all the way to your shoulder.

“Yeah,” He scoffs. “You could have broken your arm with a punch like that.”

“‘S not my fault the CIA didn’t teach me much.” You murmur. “They mostly made me run.” You remember the hours and hours you spend running circles around the gym. So many circles, over and over again.

Get involved in their hobbies. Your brain flicks through that section of the book, an idea beginning to form in your head. You’d considered it a few days ago, when you first read that chapter. Ghost speaks in violence and warfare, fighting and defending. How do you bond with the apex of humankind?

“Teach me to fight.”

His eyes shift slowly until he’s looking at you. You wish you could see the rest of his face, read his expression. His eyes don't give you much to go off of, something he'd likely perfected over the years.

“Or, at least defend myself.” You continue, fighting the urge to shrink back under his gaze. “I know, Price already told me to run first, but what if that's not an option? Am I gonna throw a shitty punch and hope it works? Aim between the legs and hope I'm faster than they can block? I promise I won't go around trying to fight asshole alphas.”

He continues to stare at you, his eyes locked on yours. Your heart thuds in your chest, your stomach twisting nervously but there's no challenge in his gaze, not even a playful one like you'd initiated with Price. He's simply staring.

You wonder what he's looking for, what he's thinking. Will he laugh at you for asking? Tell you to ask someone else? Get Price to do it since he’s actually your alpha?

“Fine.” He grunts, breaking eye contact first as he pushes himself to stand. “We start Monday. Early.”

A small smile tugs at your lips as you watch him leave the rec room. You may have just found your way into Ghost’s heart, or at least a way to get him to tolerate your presence.

Monday. Early.

You’ll be ready.

Taglist Part 1:

@bobaprint, @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10

#call of duty fic #call of duty #cod fic #john price x reader #captain price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #a/b/o #alpha beta omega dynamics #omegaverse #x reader

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wonryllis · 28 days

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✶ ENHYPEN REVEALING THEIR IDOL!S/O

. . ──𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋.

﹙ 𝒘𝐞𝐛 ⭑ 𝒅𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝓁𝓈. ﹚ idol!enhypen staking their claim publicly. fem!r. fluff, fluffff and fluffff. requested. wordcount` 677. アーカイブ ARCHIVE?

PLS REBLOG!!!!

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 he makes a song for you as a birthday gift and posts it on soundcloud as a surprise, tweeting about it as "my gift for you, love" and everyone is loses it because one it's sounds too intimate for it to be about fans and two it's your birthday. there's so much rumours and people shipping you both and dying over how sweet and boyfie heeseung is. literally in a day there's edits going around and fans finally notice the subtle signs. later on with the company's permission he reveals it at a show when asked about the song.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 he won't, trust he would never want to let the relationship go public knowing the hate you both could possibly get. so if fans ever come to know of it, then it is through the early dispatch tradition of revealing celeb couples. he will let the company handle it first and check up on how you are doing. then when things have calmed down a bit he will personally write a letter in his classic style expressing his love both for you and his fans and how much you both mean to him, his two worlds.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 he's so unserious but serious as well? like he will make sure by his life he doesn't get caught with you in public. but he will have these love sick eyes and smitten face while looking at you during shows and tiktok challenges and when he's watching you perform and when your song comes up anywhere. fans had always been suspicious of the guy being absolutely in love and their first guess was someone from your group and it was proved when you both mutually decided to make an official statement.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 my guy will literally drop the bomb through an social media post, twitter, weverse, instagram any or all he'll post a picture of you both from behind the scenes from an interaction you had in the past captioned "my girl!" and the just dip. fans won't hear from him for a week until he accidentally pops into one of the members' live. probably jungwon who asks him how he's doing and he'll go like yeah life's been great, i just came back from a date with y/n, it was fun. jungwon left stunned.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐖𝐎𝐎 he constantly wants to make it public but the pr team just wouldn't let him? so he decides to do the undo, he runs home on a weekend, invites you with him and does a live with you together! let the pr team be damned, ignoring the calls and messages as you both giggle while starting a new live every time the staff ends it. making the fans go crazy over the situation when they put two and two together and figure it all out. he'll also simultaneously answer the fans' questions on weverse.

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 he will literally beg the management to let you both attend a show together most probably something like running man and then he will make a sneaky little perfect plan to show the fans just how good and compatible you two look, playing the knight in shining armour and helping you even though you are in the opposing team. he just wants to convey silently to everyone his love for you through his actions before he drops the ultimate news through an official announcement.

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 it was accidental, completely an accident. he just meant to change the twitter account layout to prank the fans but instead of the ugly picture of one of his hyungs, he ended up putting a picture of you both from your last date. and even though it was only for a few minutes before he changed, fans had already taken screenshots and tons of rumours had already started spreading. so he says fuck it and after going through the reactions for a few hours he's posting the same pic again, texting you about it later as if you haven't already been flooded by your fans.

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @potato0579 @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @ro-diaries

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ahundredtimesover · 3 months

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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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lunarw0rks · 8 months

Note

the scenario: you’ve been really pent up lately, stress between work + everyday life and graves decides that he’s gonna help you de-stress (by riding him 🤭)

in the act, you’re practically fucking yourself stupid, like into oblivion…deep in. and you don’t even realize how overstimulated graves is getting until he literally pulls you off him (he came about three times prior)

🗝 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔢𝔣 🗝 𝔭𝔥𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔭 𝔤𝔯𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔰

a/n: anon -- send me that audio you were talking about, too!! ;) not proofread/edited. warning(s): nsfw, established relationship, overstim. (g & r), stress relief but make it steamy, husband!graves, fem!reader ───have a request? ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX ˎˊ˗

As if the day couldn't have been worse, you dropped your keys when you made it to the door. Every muscle ached as you bent down to pick them up — now upright with a tight scowl on your face.

The lock struggled until you jerked the key around a few times, finally hearing the click when it budged. With a flustered grown, you stepped inside and shut the door behind you, greeted with the comfort of your home. Dim and quiet, but still preferable over the migraine-inducing fluorescents of your workplace.

Your purse slid off your shoulder, falling somewhere on the hard ground. Frankly, you didn't have a care in the world about picking it up. That was a task for the morning — the first day of the weekend after a hellacious work week.

You made your rounds in the kitchen first, cracking open the first bottled beverage you could get your hands on. Flavored water, though if it would've been alcohol, you weren't in any mood to refuse. You finished the drink with heavy breaths, setting it down on the counter.

"Tough day, darlin’?" His well-acquainted voice hits your ears soothingly, shifting your attention from the counter below you to him. Wearing one of his old PT shirts and boxers, still visibly disheveled from lying in bed.

You bite back the urge to be snarky, reminding yourself that it’s indeed not the fault of the man comforting you that’s got you so worked up.

“Just work.” You mumble, then let out a defeated sigh. It’s your shitty boss, it’s the overwhelming workload, it’s everything, really.

With his lips pressed into a line, he nods as if he’s simply accepted your answer. You know by now that his wheels are turning, however.

“Mind if I help?”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

You didn't get a full breath of air until his back finally hit the mattress, nor did you bother to get undressed fully. Instead, straddled him in your work clothes; panties pulled aside, button-up disturbed and slightly open from his yanks.

Graves found it best to say nothing unless it was muttering a comfort or praise into your ear. But you still hadn't let go of those frustrations yet — even with his honeyed worship.

Even after you pulled your first orgasm, even after his warm spurts of cum filled you — you had no desire to stop.

The silver lining? Whatever got you so worked up had long passed. Now, all you could scrounge in your psyche was the sensation of your husband's cock crammed up inside you.

His tip, reddened and slick with his seed and your arousal, still upright and swollen despite how long you've been using your cunt as a means for abuse. Nothing but a toy, at least while you were in the midst of a sour mood.

But Graves had no qualms about that; watching your tits bounce, your face contort as you moaned, the sweat rolling down your forehead until it went between your cleavage. His rough hands are on your hips, aiding you in swallowing every inch of him. Each time you'd clench or constrict around him, he felt another jolting sensation — inching him towards yet another release.

You hadn't stopped once, only slowed when you needed to readjust or cope with the burning of your thigh muscles. The pleasure was too divine to halt entirely — evident in how you had successfully overstimulated yourself and him.

"That's it, doll. Look at you..." Though his smirk had turned more into a muddled expression of ecstasy, his praising and bluster prevailed. Your soaked, pillowy cunt pulsing around his length, rendering him officially pussydrunk.

The lude squelches increased in volume when you began rocking against him at a wicked pace, feeling your third orgasm approaching rapidly. Remnants of the previous were leaking out of you, either spilling down your inner thighs and onto the sheets or being fucked back into you when he would thrust upward to meet you.

Graves' head snapped back against the pillows, yet again ready for another quick release. Every time he thought you would be too fatigued to continue, you rutted and got more desperate for another rush of erotic euphoria. It was too much, even for him — but you were too goddamn attractive like this, using him as an appendage to fuck away the frustrations, mouth wide open, hair ruinous and damp with sweat.

With the little strength he had left, he found himself determined to make this orgasm triumphant over the others. Before, all he had done was lay back and be used, but currently he found himself sitting up to meet you chest to chest.

His speech was slurred, as desperate as your bellows of pleasure. "Good girl, gorgeous. Keep usin' my cock— gonna cum again, aren't you? Atta' girl." His thumb found your puffy clit, circling and applying pressure to surge your approaching finish. Focusing on much of anything when so deeply stimulated was hard enough — however, this, he could manage.

How your moans had gotten louder, how you began to tremble all over again, it was worth it. Your eyes rolled slightly, head in the crook of his neck when you came undone around his cock for a third time. Nails dug into the tanned flesh of his shoulders, muscles tightening as the coil in your abdomen expelled all at once.

Overwhelming pleasure coursed through you, heightened by the two climaxes before. This one is the most daunting, the most fiercely shown on your body.

He had reached his own finish while you were too lost in your own. You only noticed when you heard his desperate grunts, that hot searing deep inside you as his cum spurted deep within you. Your back seemed to be stuck in a partial arch, every muscle in your thighs burning and aching for rest. But your mind was a fog, a fog with only one thing on your mind; more pleasure.

Graves fell back against the mattress as the remainder of his intense orgasm retreated, completely out of breath and flushed.

With less effort than before, your hips resumed a meek grind, powering through the ache of over-exertion. Another whimper slipped you as your nerves fizzled with the mounds of stimulation resuming all over your body.

His eyes shot open again, hands digging into your sides and forcing them to halt, "no more, sweetheart, you're exhausted." He slurred, taking a few seconds to lift you off of his now softening length. His cock fell limp against his thigh, slick and with a milky ring where you had creamed in the heat of the moment.

"I-I'm sorry, baby. Got carried away, huh?" Your chest heaved repeatedly, eyes lidded and drowsy — and all from your own doing. He barely lifted a finger, so to speak, and you were fucked-out. To think seconds ago you were desperate for another release and rutting again was miraculous. You found yourself slumped on top of his sweaty chest, still in the midst of catching your breath.

"You could say that darlin'. Don't think there's anything left down there." Graves chuckled slightly, though the expression was subdued with exhaustion.

He snaked up an arm, brushing away your sweaty strands and pressing a kiss to the side of your head. "Christ, you're shaking."

The sheets shuffled as they rubbed against each other until the throw blanket was draped over your trembling frame, engulfing you both into a literal bed of warmth.

Your eyes drooped without effort, the flutter of his heartbeat muffled as your senses dulled. The last sound you heard before plunging into much-needed sleep was his soothing voice. "Get some rest, sweetheart. Just sleep for me now..."

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theemporium · 8 months

Note

🧸 le monagasque x reader’s daughter taking her first steps inside charles’ childhood home

☕️

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

edit: I’m a dumbass who only realised now you said daughter😭I’m so sorry

It had just been like every other Sunday brunch.

With so many Sundays robbed from his family due to the race season, it became something like an unspoken tradition for the Leclerc family to spend non-race weekend Sundays together. Something lighthearted and sweet. Something that helped him put his family first, no matter what was happening on the race track or in the garage.

Once upon a time, it was just Charles and his brothers making their way to their childhood home. Each boy would have their own role to help their mother. Each boy would laugh and smile and bask in something as simple as a meal shared together which wasn’t as easy when they were all around the world.

And in more recent years, there had been a few additions to the Leclerc Family Brunch.

“He looks just like you.”

Charles lifted his head to see his mother standing by the doorway, a warm and kind smile on the older woman’s face as she watched the sight in front of her. Her son sat on the floor of the living room, an array of toys around him and her grandchild crawling around as he happily babbled.

“Really?” Charles asked, a little bashful as his mother’s grin widened.

“It makes me feel twenty years younger,” Pascale joked, a look of adoration on her face as little Adrien Leclerc garbled happily on the floor before tilting his head up to look at her. “He even has your smile. Different eyes though.”

“He has his mother’s perfect eyes,” Charles cooed as he grinned down at his son.

Though you had been more than welcome at the Leclerc household for their Sunday brunches, Charles also knew that you liked to give him some time with his family regardless of what he said. After many weeks of trying to tempt you early on in your relationship, he finally relented and made his own Sunday tradition with you. It started of as a day to just treat yourself at the expense of his card, but soon became your day away from him and Adrien.

Just a day for you to take a breather from the Leclerc men in your life.

“Ah, Maman, look what I taught him,” Charles announced suddenly as he shuffled back until his back was pressed against the couch. “We’ve been practising.”

“Charles,” his mother scolded softly. “He’s your son, not a dog.”

“But he’s so obedient,” he teased playfully before turning his focus back to his son. He spread his legs open and patted the floor in front of him as he called his son’s name. “Adrien, box box!”

Adrien’s head snapped towards his father and he let out a happy giggle like he seemed to realise what was happening. He began to crawl towards his father, a wide and toothless smile spread across his face.

“My smart boy!” Charles praised as his son continued to crawl across the carpet towards him.

“Oh Adrien,” Pascale cheered with a clap. However, her smile faltered slightly when he started to slow down.

Charles' brows furrowed together. “Adrien, come on. Box, box.”

Adrien looked at his father before he stopped fully. But before Charles could even say anything, he was sitting back on the carpet before he began to slowly push himself up onto his feet with the help of the table beside him.

“Maman,” Charles murmured breathlessly, excitement mixed with tears shining in his eyes as he watched his son stare determinedly towards him. Later on, he would be grateful his mother had half the sense to take her phone out while he was so focused on young Adrien.

Charles could only let out a choked, wet laugh as he watched his son take one step and then another and another, and eventually letting go of the table as he took shaky steps towards his father. He could only let an array of mumbled French as his son fell into his arms, quickly hugging the young boy to his chest as he pressed kisses all over his face.

“My smart boy. My smart, smart prince,” he continued to mumble against his chubby cheeks as Adrien squirmed and squealed in his father’s arms. “Oh, I can’t wait to show Mama what you can do, hm? Gonna be a good boy and show her what a smart boy you are? She’s gonna be so excited.”

And truth be told, Charles cried when Adrien walked in front of you too when he caught a glance at your glossy eyes. But he wasn’t ashamed to be emotional about his family.

#cece's slumblurb party #charles leclerc #formula one #f1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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hellfire--cult · 8 months

Text

Edit of Eddie: Sofiiel

Stripper!Eddie x Shy!Fem!Reader

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

WC: 14k

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

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

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

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

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

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

PART 8 - FINALE

Robin Buckley was in cloud nine at the moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But everything else was just numb.

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

And your eyes looked down at the floor again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“U-Um… Can you get my order?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um… It’s a mess inside–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Everyone?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something happened this weekend. Something definitely happened to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wouldn’t leave you alone.

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

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

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

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

Because it was all a lie.

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

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

Today you’ll throw the bags out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I swear to god, whoever it is–”

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

“Robin, it is too early–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eddie’s world crumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

“Shit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But she will answer you.”

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

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

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

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

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

You felt lost. Completely, and utterly lost.

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

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

“Robs–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why is he here?

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

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

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

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

You just wanted him out of your house.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I said I don’t want–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t want to hear–”

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

“Please, stop–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What?

What did he just say?

Did you hear him right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Time froze.

The world stopped turning.

The moon stopped gravitating around it as well.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I– I want you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And possibly more.

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

“What’s wrong with Robin?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s on Angel.”

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

The End.

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

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

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

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

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munson-blurbs · 8 months

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

Summary: Your weekend getaway to Indianapolis comes with a boyfriend who's trying to quit smoking, a five-year-old who has difficulty acclimating to new routines, and your own insecurities about your mothering abilities. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: angst, insecurities about motherhood, lost child, Eddie gets mad at us, discussion of menstrual period/PMS

WC: 7.7k A/N: There is a moment where someone refers to us as Harris's mom; however, she doesn't see us. There is no indication that we resemble Harris in any way.

Chapter 16/20

Divider credit to @saradika Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsonsmum

The morning dew still kisses the grass when you arrive at the Munson apartment, hauling your duffel bag up to their half-packed car. Eddie’s leaning into the backseat, only his jean-clad legs visible from your vantage point. Harris stands behind him, watching his dad’s every move earnestly and intently. If you had a camera on you, you’d take a photo of this Kodak moment.

“Hi, boys!” you chirp as enthusiastically, tucking your lips into your mouth to stop yourself from laughing when Eddie bangs his head on the roof of the car. “You okay?”

“Y-Yeah, ‘m good,” he mutters, rubbing at his scalp with one hand, expression somewhere between a grimace and a smile.”Morning, Sweetheart. You sleep well?”

You nod, opening your arms as Harris races towards you for a hug. “What about you guys? Or were you too excited about our super-fun weekend?”

“Daddy snored!” Harris reports with a grin, overjoyed to share what he perceives to be a juicy morsel of gossip.

Eddie gasps in mock-offense, reaching out to take your bag and arranging it amongst his and Harris’s in the trunk. “I did not!”

“Did too!” Harris retorts, turning back to you and adding, “like, so loud!”

You crouch down, and hold a pinky out in front of him. “We’re gonna have to stick together this weekend if we’re going to survive,” returning his smile when he wraps his little finger around yours in a promise.

“Can’t believe my girlfriend is conspiring against me with my own flesh and blood,” Eddie grumbles, eyes widening when he realizes what he’s said; rather, in front of whom he’s said it. His panicked gaze meets yours, and you both anticipate some reaction from Harris, but he’s fortunately unfazed and too fixated on the utter silliness of his dad’s snoring. Eddie clears his throat, determined to change the subject before his son catches on. “I think we’re ready to ship out,” he offers, slamming the trunk shut and pressing down to double-check that it’s closed.

“Snacks?” you ask, running through a mental checklist of necessities.

Eddie holds up a family-size bag of pretzels. “Got ‘em.”

“Water?”

“Backseat,” he points to the floor to the left of Harris’s booster seat–a recent upgrade from his carseat. “Harris will be in charge of that, right, Har?”

“Right!” Harris confirms with a thumbs-up.

“Sounds good. Put him to work,” you tease. Eddie’s heart skips a beat at the playful relationship that you and his son have, swapping smiles and making each other laugh. “Music?”

Eddie juts his chin towards the center console, filled to the brim with cassettes. “Always.”

You cock your eyebrow knowingly before posing your next question, preparing yourself for some visceral response. “Nicotine gum?”

Eddie groans, patting the pack of Nicorette in his pocket. “Unfortunately, yes.” About a week and a half ago, Harris had come home from school crying after the school had put on an assembly about the dangers of smoking. Eddie had been meaning to quit for a long time, but his son worrying over real problems, using words like cancer and heart attack, was what finally pushed him to chuck every pack of cigarettes he owned into the trash.

“Okay,” you smile and clap your hands together, “I think we’re good to go!” You help Harris buckle his seatbelt before climbing into the passenger seat.

The sedan rumbles to life, catching on the second key turn and disrupting the otherwise still morning. “Gentlemen, start your engines!” Eddie roars in an exaggeratedly deep voice, and Harris giggles from the backseat. With Eddie’s hand on the gearshift, you seize the opportunity to squeeze it, light pink tickling his cheeks at your touch.

It’s only thirty minutes into the drive before it starts.

“Daddy, I gotta pee!”

You can practically feel the patience leaving Eddie’s body, fingers tightly gripping the wheel until his knuckles flush white.

“Har Bear, we just hit the road,” he tries, knowing his efforts are fruitless. “Can you hold it?”

“No, it’s a ‘mergency!”

“Fuck,” Eddie swears under his breath. The likelihood of it actually being an emergency is slim to none, but he’s in no mood to risk it. “All right, I’ll pull over at the next rest stop, ‘kay?”

Eddie takes the next exit, parking at a truck stop and nearly falling out of the car in his scramble to get Harris to the bathroom. “C’mon, c’mon,” he mutters, walking so quickly that Harris nearly trips over his own feet. You quicken your own pace just to keep up with them.

The scent of coffee grabs your attention as soon as you walk in the door, and you make a beeline for the tiny Dunkin Donuts tucked in the corner. The cashier looks as though they could use a shot or two of espresso, eyelids closing under their visor as you give your order. When the boys get back from the bathroom, you present Eddie with a large coffee with far more milk and sugar than your own, and hand a chocolate donut to Harris.

Eddie's eyes shift back and forth from the donut to you before he speaks. “It’s, like, 9 am,” he points out. “He’s gonna be bouncing off the walls if he eats that now.”

Oh. Obviously. What were you thinking, giving an already-hyperactive child pure sugar in the morning? All of the times you’d cringed when parents had sent their kids into school with Cocoa Puffs or some equally sugary cereal, and you’d given his son a chocolate donut for breakfast. “I’m sorry,” you sputter, shaking your head in frustration. “I should’ve asked you first, or saved it for later.”

“‘S fine,” he mutters, heaving an exasperated sigh as Harris takes a giant bite of donut. “At least there’s two of us to chase after him,” he adds with a weak smile.

Harris has devoured nearly the entire donut by the time Eddie’s buckling him back in, chocolate crumbs tucked into the crevices of his mouth. He’s oblivious to your faux pas, and you’d like to keep it that way.

“I really am sorry,” you say again, guilt gnawing in your stomach. “I should’ve known better; I guess I just got excited about our little vacation together.”

Eddie’s grin is more genuine this time. “Me, too, baby.” He sneaks a quick kiss to your cheek when Harris is focused on what remains of his snack. “The whole no-smoking thing has me extra bitter, y’know?”

You know. You definitely know, but you’re not about to point out all of the ways he’s been short-tempered lately. Instead, you relax into your seat and try to brush off your mistake as Eddie turns on the radio and guitar riffs replace the silence.

Eddie rolls down the window as the springtime sun warms the air, and you stretch as the rush of wind cools your body. His curls whip around the base of his neck, dancing in the breeze, and you can’t help but push them out of his face haphazardly.

Your stomach growls, and you’re grateful for the blaring music masking the embarrassingly loud noise. You’d forgotten to grab something for breakfast in your rush to leave your apartment, and coffee is a poor substitute for the most important meal of the day.

You reach down to the bag of pretzels nestled against your feet. “Y’want?” you ask Eddie, who nods and opens his mouth for you to feed it to him while he concentrates on the road. Laughter bubbles up from within you as he takes one from your hand by pinching it between his teeth.

Harris giggles, too. “Daddy, you look like a goat from the zoo!”

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie slides the snack into his mouth and bites down with a crunch, “and what sounds do goats make?”

“Hmm,” Harris ponders this for a moment before bleating a resounding, “maaaah!”

You swivel in your seat to give him a high-five. There’s donut residue on your hand when you pull back. “Smarty pants! I bet you know every animal sound there is.”

You and Eddie rattle off different species as you feed him more pretzels. Harris manages perfect impressions of each, until you call out, “sloth!” and effectively stump him.

“Ms. Sweetheart!” he cackles maniacally, partially because of his sugar rush, you’re sure, “that is so silly!”

“Y’just gotta do everything suuuuper slooooow.” You drag out the last two words to emphasize your point. “Like this: Haaaaarrisssss…caaaaan…youuuuu…haaaaand…meeeeee…aaaaa…waaaaterrrr?” This brings on a fresh round of giggles from the backseat; even extra-bitter Eddie manages a hint of a smile.

Harris grabs a bottle at a snail’s–no, a sloth’s–pace. “Heeere…youuuuu…goooooo!” His pace is far from hurried, and you feel the gentle tap of the plastic cap against your shoulder blade a full thirty seconds later.

“Thaaaaank…youuuuu!” You crack open the bottle of water and take a swig, quenching a thirst only made worse by the salty snack. “Wanna play again? See how many other animal sounds you can do?” you ask, grateful to have found a way to keep him occupied. Before you can close the bottle, Eddie reaches over and snags it, lifting it to his lips.

“Daddy, no!” Harris screeches from the backseat, little hand shooting out in protest, causing Eddie to slam on the brake. Water sloshes over the top of the bottle and onto his pants.

“Shit—what, Har?” he snaps, shoving the now half-empty bottle into the cupholder. He swipes haphazardly at the wet patch on his thigh, darkening the denim as it spreads along the fabric. He gives up with a mumbled, “whatever,” when he realizes he’s only rubbing it in more.

“You’re gonna get her germs,” Harris points out matter-of-factly.

Eddie huffs out a terse chuckle, slightly amused but still irritated. “Yeah, yeah, right,” he mutters, and you take that as a sign to reach back and get him his own bottle.

The remainder of the drive is uneventful, though Eddie has to dip into his Nicorette stash when a maroon Toyota Corolla weaves in and out of lanes at lightning speed and cuts him off. He instinctively reaches for the pack of cigarettes he’d always kept in the console, groaning when he remembers that it’s long gone.

“Good job, baby,” you murmur softly, giving his knee a quick squeeze in approval as he pops a piece of gum into his mouth. “‘M proud of you.”

You pull up to the hotel just after 10 AM, the morning chill has dissipated as the sun’s rays warm the air. The fair weather made the trip smoother, a small miracle if you’d ever seen one. Truthfully, you don’t think Eddie’s frayed nerves can handle a rainy day.

Eddie takes Harris’s hand as you all walk through the parking lot and up to the front desk. A middle-aged concierge greets you, the customer service smile plastered across his face faltering when he clocks Eddie’s ripped jeans and disheveled wind-blown hair.

“Reservation’s under ‘Munson,’” Eddie says to him, not making eye contact; your heart is a sinking stone when you realize that he also noticed the man’s shifting expression. “I called ahead and they said we could check in early.”

The concierge nods. You catch a glimpse of his shiny silver name tag, proudly proclaiming “STU, ASSISTANT MANAGER” gleaming in the overhead fluorescent lighting. “Room 325,” he grunts, handing you and Eddie keys dangling from matching logo-branded chains. Elation is a sunflower blooming in your chest; your first vacation has officially begun. Maybe it’s a little getaway only ninety minutes from home, but it’s a new adventure that you’re taking together.

Eddie flings his and Harris’s shared bag, then yours, onto one of the queen beds with a groan. “We made it!” he announces, flinging an arm over your shoulder. The pads of his fingers brush your upper arm, a tissue-paper light touch that has you soaring.

“Daddy? I gotta pee again,” Harris’s urgency breaks the moment. He’s hopping from one foot to the other, a potty dance if you’ve ever seen one.

“Go for it,” Eddie says, pointing towards the bathroom. He shakes his head when his son sprints the short distance.

Once the door closes, Eddie’s hands are on your hips, tugging you so close that your stomachs touch, your breasts pressed to his chest. His mouth immediately swoops down to your neck, nipping gently at the flesh along your collarbone.

“Hello there,” you manage to speak through a laugh. You’re unable to say more, as he’s pressing his lips to yours in a hungry kiss so fervently that your teeth nearly click together.

“Hi,” he breathes once he’s pulled back, brushing the tip of his nose against your own. “Sorry, y’just look really pretty.”

You wrinkle your nose in confusion. “I’m wearing sweatpants. I don’t even have makeup on.” Truthfully, you’d meant to at least swipe on some mascara, but you were preoccupied making sure that you’d packed everything you needed for the weekend.

“Don’t care,” Eddie mumbles, leaning in for another kiss, “still s’fuckin’ pretty. Don’t know how I’m gonna keep my hands off of you.”

The solution to that problem comes in the form of a flushing toilet and Harris calling out, “I’m done! Gonna wash my hands!”

Eddie throws his head back in frustration before burying his pink-tinged face in his hands. “This, uh, was not exactly how I imagined our first time in a hotel together,” he admits.

“At least he’s washing his hands,” you joke, trying to ward off the throbbing need building in your core. It fails miserably. You want him, need him, to relieve the ache in the way that only he can. You yearn for the way his fingertips dance across your skin, eagerly reaching under your shirt or dipping below your waistband, desperate to make his girl feel good.

The two of you break apart as the bathroom door swings open. You fly across the room and pretend like you’re rifling through your duffel bag while Eddie flops onto the bed. His shirt rides up slightly as he lays down, and you have to fight the urge to bite the exposed sliver of tummy.

“When are we going to the market?” Harris asks, catapulting himself onto the bed and landing next to his dad.

Eddie rolls over and checks the digital alarm clock between the two queen beds. “Doesn’t start for another few hours,” he says. “I was gonna try and take a quick nap before we—”

“I’m not tired!” Harris whines, and you can see in Eddie’s deflated, tense physicality that his already thin patience is wearing down further. “I wanna go now!”

“Hey, Har Bear,” you try, hoping you’re not inserting yourself into the dynamic too forcefully, “why don’t we go on an adventure while Daddy sleeps? We can wake him up when we get back.”

Harris hops down onto the floor and readily slips his hand into yours. “Bye, Daddy!” he calls out, dragging you towards the door. “Me an’ Ms. Sweetheart are having a ‘venture!”

Eddie gives you a weary but grateful smile as he scoots upwards to rest his head on the overstuffed pillow. “Godspeed,” he mumbles into the sheets, already beginning to doze off as he speaks.

The elevator dings and you shuffle into the small space, reaching for the “L” button to bring you down to the lobby.

“I wanna push the button!” Harris laments, and his sudden shriek has you instinctively pulling your hand back before regaining your composure.

Do you correct him? Let him press the button despite raising his voice? Deciding a consequence comes naturally to you in the classroom, but the anxiety of making the wrong choice serves as a massive roadblock. “You have to ask nicely if you want to push the button,” you offer, sending up a silent prayer that this staves off an impending tantrum.

He pouts for a moment before relenting. “Can I push the button?” It’s more grumble than request, but you accept it anyway.

His hand remains tucked safely into yours when you leave the hotel, basking in warm weather. You breathe in for three, breathe out for three. Okay. You can do this. Your job revolves around children; you can survive an afternoon taking care of just one.

Except that one happens to be your boyfriend’s son, and if you mess this up, it could ruin both Munsons’ perceptions of you.

“Where’re we going?” Harris asks, and you realize that you have no earthly idea; to be honest, you’re surprised that he so readily agreed.

”We can go for a walk?” you suggest, pasting on a smile in feigned confidence. “Maybe we can find a playground or something?”

“Okay!” he chirps. He’s fast for someone with little legs, and you have to remind him multiple times to use his walking feet. Yeah, this kid needs to burn off some energy, stat.

To your relief, there’s a playground just a few blocks away, fully equipped with a swing set and a jungle gym. Harris races across the grassy field onto the wood chip-covered area, assessing the space to figure out what he wants to conquer first.

You sit on the bench next to a woman who simultaneously reads a James Patterson novel and keeps an eye on the jungle gym, where a little girl is dangling from the monkey bars, putting one hand in front of the other.

She looks over with a sympathetic smile when you breathe out a long sigh, sinking into the wooden back like a weight has been removed from your shoulders.

“I hear that,” she says with a kind chuckle. “Mine will be tired for about…hmm, five minutes? Just long enough to get her home, and then she’ll be hopping around like the Energizer Bunny.” She shakes her head. “Is yours the same way?”

Yours. The term is peanut butter stuck to the roof of your mouth, and it takes a beat too long for you to respond. “Y-Yeah, I’m pretty sure he would sleep run if he could.” The stranger laughs at your joke, and you relax a bit. “Sorry, he’s really my boyfriend’s son, and it’s kind of…new to think of him as being mine, too.”

You expect her to pick up and move to a different bench, away from the weird woman who’s baring her soul on the playground, but she just closes her book and turns to you. “Carly is technically my stepdaughter,” she explains in a hushed tone, “but her mom’s not in the picture so, for all intents and purposes, she’s my daughter. No ‘step’ necessary.”

“Is…is it hard?” you ask, the question spilling from your lips in a desperate plea for answers. “Being a stepmom?”

She nods. “Oh, absolutely.” She brushes a strand of hair from her eyes, and you can see a sparkle behind them. “But, trust me, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

Her words, spoken freely of judgment and purely with empathy, alleviate the nervousness burning through you. “Thank you,” you murmur, gratitude forming a lump in your throat that you struggle to swallow.

“Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris shouts from the top of the jungle gym. “Look what I can do!” He hesitates for a moment before reaching out his arms and grabbing onto the metal pole. You stand up to call out a preemptive warning, to get to him before he can fall, but before you can, his chubby hands grip the pole. He hooks his legs around it and slides down expertly, not letting go until his sneakers are firmly planted on the wood chips scattered across the ground.

Pride warms your heart when his eyes lock with yours, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly as he awaits your approval. Anticipation reverberates within his little body, and before you can get in a word edgewise, he’s jumping up and down with an excited, “didja see me?”

“You’re amazing!” Your praise floats through the air and envelops him like a long-awaited embrace. “Super brave, too. I don’t think I could do that.”

He furrows his brows before a knowing smile forms on his lips. “Yes, you can! I’ll show you.”

Kind of walked right into that one, you lightly chastise yourself, but you dutifully shuffle towards where he’s already darting up the steps on all fours, hands splayed out for balance.

“C’mon, Ms. Sweetheart!” Harris cheers, waving his fists in the air in earnest, and you simply cannot let the boy down. He easily glides down once more, big brown eyes looking up at you from the ground. “Just like that, see?”

“Right, got it.” You give him a thumbs-up and emulate his movements, holding on tightly to the metal pole and sliding down. You grimace as it squeaks under your grasp, nails on a chalkboard, but your feet reach the ground soon enough.

Harris flings his arms around you, chin digging into your thigh as he gazes up in adoration. “I told you you could do it! Y’just had to try!” His admiration is fleeting; he soon spots another child leap from the swingset to play elsewhere. “Can you push me on the swings?” he pleads, already leading you to the equipment. “I just need a little help getting started, but then ‘m good.”

You hold the chain links dangling from the top of the structure, allowing Harris to maneuver himself onto the rubber seat. He scoots back so his bottom is fully supported and announces, “‘m ready!”

“Hold on tight,” you remind him, more out of routine than necessity, as you pull back the rust-covered chains. You move as far back as you can, double-checking that he hasn’t let go, and release the swing. His squealing giggles are music to your ears, and you push him a few more times before he’s able to take over independently.

His mop of curls defies gravity as he sails back and forth, pumping his legs to gain height. “Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Hm?”

“Do you love my daddy?”

You ponder the thought for a moment. You know exactly how you feel about Eddie; he simultaneously kicks up the butterflies in your stomach and calms every buzzing nerve in your body with just a smile, but you’re unsure how much he wants to tell Harris. You settle on the truth, direct and simple: “yeah, I do love him.”

Harris wastes no time asking a follow-up question. “A lot or a little?”

“A lot,” you answer quickly, realizing the magnitude of your enamoration as you say it aloud. The way Eddie’s kisses wrap you in an armor of safety; you hope your kisses have the same effect on him. “Definitely a lot.”

He hums his acknowledgement. “Grampa Wayne says Daddy loves you a lot, too, but I can’t ask you to be my mommy yet.”

You freeze in place so suddenly that the swing’s momentum nearly knocks you down; you step out of the way just before his sneaker-clad feet can make contact with your torso. “You want me to be your mommy?” you repeat dumbly, still half-convinced that you heard him incorrectly.

“Mhm,” Harris confirms, “but Grampa says that being a mommy is a big ‘sponsibility, and I gotta be patient. That means I gotta wait until Daddy says it’s okay to ask you,” he elaborates matter-of-factly.

This is clearly something they’ve talked about, extensively enough that Harris knows that he shouldn’t say anything about it. You’re temporarily rendered speechless, words failing you as you search for an appropriate response. Do you thank him? Act like you hadn’t heard him? Hope that a sinkhole opens up in the middle of the playground and swallows you whole?

“Th-That’s great, Har,” you manage, shoulders suddenly heavy with the weight of his statement. He goes back to focusing on pumping his legs, leaving you to tend to the anxiety gnawing at your insides.

Motherhood–the term stepmother seems arbitrary, given that Harris’s biological mother has all but dropped off of the face of the Earth–is a terrifying prospect. Any time you try to explain your fears, people just shrug them off, claiming that you’d be a ‘natural,’ that your years of teaching would ultimately ‘pay off’ when you had children of your own. As if teaching and parenting were remotely the same.

To you, the differences are as clear as day. When you’re a parent, there’s no ‘clocking out.’ Your obligations don’t begin at 9 AM and end at 2 PM; they’re twenty-four hours, seven days a week. It’s not the same thing. Not even close.

Before you became a teacher, you had to go to school and take education courses. Read your textbooks cover to cover. Had to do an internship for a semester. You’d had ample opportunities to determine whether or not it was the right job for you. Motherhood doesn’t offer that luxury: you don’t know if you’ll be a good mom until you’ve already chosen to become one.

“Ms. Sweetheart?” You jump out of your skin when you realize that Harris is slowing himself down, scuffed Reeboks scraping against the ground as he comes to a stop. “Can I get ice cream?”

You bite back a laugh. “You just had a donut, silly boy,” you remind him with a gentle ruffle to his curls, trying to keep your tone breezy, “but we can grab some sandwiches. Maybe even get one for Daddy, too?”

His lower lip quivers, making your heart lurch. “B-But–”

“And,” you interject, “we can go out for ice cream after the market. With Daddy.” You hope it’s a promise you can keep.

It was too good to be true. Deep down, you knew it, despite the fleeting victory of getting Harris to eat an actual lunch. His hands were sticky with peanut butter and jelly–you were making a mental note to reassure Eddie that, yes, some had gotten in his mouth–when you’d done the unthinkable. The unimaginable.

You hadn’t let him press the elevator button.

He howls and sinks down to the floor, knees slamming into the linoleum tile and making him scream even louder.

“Buddy, you’ve got peanut–”

“I wanted to press…the…BUTTON!” he shrieks, every minor inconvenience he’s encountered today culminating in what you can only dub the Tantrum of the Decade. The crash from the sugar rush, not going to the market when he wanted to, the lack of ice cream are represented in every fat tear rolling down his reddening cheeks, in every flail of his legs as you try to scoop him up and bring him into the elevator, in every heaving breath. He’s overtired, overwhelmed, and out of his normal routine.

Your own eyes get misty as the metal door slides shut, enclosing you in a small space that seems to shrink with each wail. The kid has the lung capacity of an Olympic swimmer, while you’re drowning in your own pity.

He’s still sobbing when you reach the third floor, and Eddie’s flying out of the room as soon as he hears the sound of his son crying. Curls disheveled from his nap, crust still at the corners of his eyes. I woke him up, you realize. Another nail in the coffin.

“Wh-What happened?” His voice is raised, not in accusation, but just to be heard over Harris yelling. “Did he get hurt?” He takes Harris from your arms, clutching him to his chest in sheer panic. Reflexively, he inspects his boy’s head, arms, and legs for bruising and blood.

You shake your head, afraid that any attempt to speak will have your voice fracturing into pieces, no better than the little boy’s meltdown.

Fortunately, Harris has no problem filling his dad in. “I–wanted–to push–the button–and–she–said–NO!!!” Each word is punctuated with a hitched breath and is angrier than the last.

Eddie looks at you, more puzzled than worried now that he knows his son is unharmed, and a visit to the emergency room is unnecessary.

“His hands were sticky from his sandwich,” you mutter, unable to make eye contact with either Munson. “Oh, um, this is yours,” you add robotically, handing him the bag containing his hoagie, now a darker shade of brown from the grease it’s soaked up. You wince at how stilted you sound, simply going through the motions, not at all like the enthusiastic presentation you’d planned on the walk back to the hotel.

“Thanks.” Not unappreciative, but far from enthusiastic, and you can’t blame him. “Let’s just, uh, let’s just get him in the room.”

The sleepiness consumes Harris after a few more arduous minutes in his dad’s embrace. Eddie rubs circles on his back to calm him down, tiny shh sounds passing through his teeth. Harris begins to catch his breath; hiccups like aftershocks ricochet in his chest, gradually subsiding into soft snores.

“Jesus,” Eddie whispers as he gingerly places him onto the unmade bed, still warm from where he was lying just moments earlier, “that was one hell of a wake-up call.”

You speak at the same volume as him, though you don’t even have to try. Shame buries your voice deep in your diaphragm. “I’m so sorry.” Your right incisor digs into your lower lip as emotion ravishes you. The absence of Harris’s tantruming creates a loud silence that neither of you have the energy to fill.

“I could say the same to you,” Eddie says with a soft chuckle, taking your hand and squeezing it tight as he sits down on your bed. “His meltdowns are no joke.”

“I should’ve just let him press the damn button.” You’re only half-serious, but your stomach sinks when Eddie says nothing; instead, he carefully unwraps the sandwich and takes a bite. A glob of mustard lands on the parchment paper with a soft plop.

He doesn’t disagree. You made a mistake—two mistakes, if you’re counting the donut fiasco—and Eddie saw it. Saw that you’d failed.

“Did you get enough rest?” It’s a feeble attempt to change the subject, and you both know it, but you go for it anyway.

He lets his knee knock into yours. “Never enough, Sweetheart,” he says with a smile, wiping his lips with the flimsy deli napkin. “But, yeah, I got some sleep.” He leans in and murmurs in your ear, “Would’ve been better with you next to me, though.”

You turn so that your nose brushes his. “If I was laying next to you, you wouldn’t be able to sleep,” you quip, stifling your laughter when he takes your cheeks in his hands and smacks a kiss to your lips.

“I would be a perfect gentleman.” He stretches and exposes the happy trail below his navel. “My eyes are up here,” he teases, catching you checking him out. “And you were worried about me.”

The dynamic shifts back to playful and lighthearted, his joke chipping away at the tension that’s been weighing you down.

“Shut up and eat your sandwich, Munson.”

“Yes, dear.”

You’ve showered and changed into a fresh set of clothes, jeans replacing the ratty sweatpants you’d donned earlier. You’d tried to wash the day’s stress down the drain along with the eucalyptus-scented soap suds, and though you don’t feel completely recharged, you’re ready enough to tackle the market.

Still, you can’t stop yourself from murmuring to Eddie, “d’you want me to stay here with Harris? Just in case it’s too much for him?”

He considers it for a moment before shaking his head, shrugging on his denim jacket. “Nah, he got his nap. Should be fine.”

The little boy in question slips one hand into yours and looks up at you with a grin. Eddie had talked to him earlier, reminded him about expressing himself in ways that didn’t hurt people–or their ears–and Harris apologized tearily. All is forgiven; at least between you and him. You still feel an uneasiness with Eddie, though it may be one-sided, as he’d quietly lamented that you two couldn’t shower together.

“We’re goin’ to the market! We’re goin’ to the market!” Harris chants, shuffling on the balls of his feet in a little dance. “Ms. Sweetheart, guess what?”

“What?”

“WE’RE GOIN’ TO THE MARKET!”

“Shocking,” Eddie mutters under his breath, a wry smile on his lips, and you use your free hand to swat at his stomach. “Okay,” he pats the wallet in the side pocket of his jeans, “got the company card, keys, handsome son, beautiful girlfriend…” He glances around the room; this time, he’s either unaware of his slip-up or is unbothered by Harris knowing your relationship status. “Looks like we’re good to go!”

The car ride isn’t too long; it’s only about a ten minute drive before you reach the market. And since you’d remembered to let Harris press the elevator button, it didn’t feel endless.

“Now, Harris,” Eddie says as his son climbs out of the car, hopping onto the parking lot pavement, “the market’s gonna be busy–”

“I know!”

“--so you have to hold my hand, or Ms. Sweetheart’s hand–”

“I know!”

“--the whole time. Got it?”

“Yes!” He’s far too exasperated for a five-year-old, and you have to bite your cheek to keep from laughing. “Can we go in now?”

Eddie obliges and takes Harris’s right hand; you take his left, the three of you walking towards the gigantic building together.

You’d figured it would be crowded, but you’re unprepared for just how overstimulated your senses become upon entering. Vendors shout advertisements for their booths, beckoning potential customers to check out their wares. Snippets of different conversations infiltrate your ears, and you swallow hard to clear your head, though the grainy muzak pumping through the overhead speakers doesn't help.

Immediately, you spot a booth selling secondhand books, and you look at Eddie with a hopeful gaze.

“Go,” he motions with a smile, laughing when you all but skip off to the stack of novels. You don’t want to take too long, as neither Munson has the patience to wait while you peruse your options. A weathered paperback copy of The Grapes of Wrath catches your eye, some pages dog-eared and smelling faintly of stale smoke, and you fish out two quarters from the bottom of your bag and place them in the vendor’s hand.

“Okay,” you breathe when you get back to Eddie and Harris, overwhelmed just by the short walk. You grip Harris’s hand even tighter, all-too protective of him in such a crowded space. “Let’s go get some records!”

Eddie finds a variety of vinyls that he knows will sell at Rock Records—from older classics like Louis Armstrong, Etta James, and Buddy Holly, to more recent gems from Van Halen, Queen, and Michael Jackson.

“Babe, check this out!” he announces gleefully, showing off a copy of Metallica’s Ride the Lightning. “I must’ve listened to this a hundred times when it was released in ‘84.” His enthusiasm is palpable, and you have to wonder if this purchase is for the store or for himself.

To his credit, Harris lasts a full twenty-five minutes before he starts asking for ice cream again. “You promised, renember?”

Eddie grins at him, then at you. “A promise, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “Can’t break that.”

“I think I saw a booth down there that’s sellIng some.” It’s a local shop, and you know one cone will probably cost more than a half-gallon at the grocery store, but you’ll risk the upcharge if it means avoiding a second meltdown today.

“I’ll be right there,” Eddie tells you, eyes flitting back towards a row of booths you’d passed by earlier. “Just get me something with chocolate?”

“What’s the magic word?” Harris interjects.

“Please.” He lays it on thick, throwing you a wink before turning around.

You grab a $5 bill from your back pocket, change from when you’d bought the sandwiches earlier, and approach the ice cream stand.

“Can I please get one cherry chip cone, one chocolate fudge cone, and…what do you want, Har?”

“That!” He points to a giant display of model cars displayed in front of a toy vendor’s booth. “I want the orange one!”

“We can look after,” you reassure him. “First, you have to pick the ice cream flavor you want.”

“Hmm,” he presses on tiptoes to peruse his options before pressing his forefinger to the glass, pointing to cookies ‘n cream, declaring, “that one!”

The vendor hands him his cone, then turns to you and confirms, “just the three cones?”

“Mhm.”

She punches some numbers into the register, expression far too serious for the gig. “That'll be $6.”

Exhaling, you hand her the bill in your palm. There’s no way the stodgy woman is going to cut you a break for the extra dollar. “Give me a sec; I should have a single in my wallet.” You let go of Harris’s hand, fumbling around in your bag until you pull out what you’ve been searching for.

The vendor takes your money and hands you the remaining two cones, already starting to melt with all of the body heat surrounding you.

“Thank you,” you say with a polite smile. “Okay, Har, let’s—” Your blood runs cold when you realize he’s nowhere to be found. “Harris!” you call out, voice shaking on the last syllable, unable to hide how frantic you feel. “Harris!”

Eddie, already on his way from his earlier errand, runs over to you. “Where’s—”

“He was just here!” You push your way through the crowd, accidentally brushing your scoop of cherry chip along someone’s jacket, but there’s no time to apologize.

You and Eddie take turns yelling out his name, bile rising in your throats with each unanswered shout, until you hear somebody ask, “is that your mommy and daddy calling for you?”

Both your and Eddie’s heads swivel towards the conversation, breathing identical sighs of relief when you see the familiar mop of curls in front of the toy car display.

“Oh, thank God.” It comes out in one breath, your chest deflating as you and Eddie rush towards him.

“Harris, what are you doing?” Eddie admonishes him, heart still racing as the surge of adrenaline tapers off. He picks him up, fingers digging into the shirt fabric as he holds him as close as possible, and presses a kiss to his scalp. There will be some sort of consequence later–revoking TV time and a lecture on stranger danger–but for now, there’s only the comfort of knowing he’s safe.

“I just wanted to see the cars,” Harris protests, trying and failing to wriggle from Eddie’s grip. “Can I get the orange one?”

Eddie huffs out an incredulous laugh, astounded that Harris doesn’t understand the seriousness of his actions. “No, you can’t!” he yells, attracting unwanted attention from other shoppers, “and you can’t wander off like that! I told you that you have to stay with one of us the whole time!” He flexes his palm before clenching it into a frustrated fist. “What were you thinking?”

Harris’s eyes fill with tears. “I j-just wanted to s-see them,” he tries again, taken aback by the anger in his dad’s voice. “An’ Ms. Sweetheart was right there!”

The mention of your nickname reminds Eddie of the other adult involved. “You were supposed to be watching him,” he spits, gritting his teeth to keep from raising his voice at you.

You wince at his tone, filled with venom for the first time since his comment about Grandma forgetting you all those months ago. The difference is that, now, you deserve it. Letting go of his hand was careless; at the very least, you should have reminded him to stay put. The early morning donut, the elevator button were menial indiscretions compared to this mistake. There’s no denying that you’d royally messed up.

“I’m so sorry.” Sorry for not keeping a closer eye on Harris. Sorry for waking him up from his nap via a screaming child. Sorry for waltzing into their lives and thinking you had a snowball’s chance in Hell of being a decent parent. The ice cream drips down the cones and onto your hands, pooling in the crevices between your fingers. You dump them in the nearest trash can, neither of you hungry anymore.

You can’t return to the hotel soon enough, and as soon as Eddie puts an episode of Rugrats on TV for Harris, you begin inconspicuously packing your collecting your toiletries from the bathroom to back in your luggage.

“What’re you doing?” Eddie asks from the doorway. He’s got his arms folded across his chest, perplexion wrinkling his brows.

“Going home.”

He presses his forefinger and thumb to his eyelids and shakes his head. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like–”

“No,” you interrupt him, choking down your frustration, “you were right. You trusted me to watch him, and I didn’t.”

“Hey, hey,” Eddie steps forward and puts out a hand to stop you from grabbing your toothbrush, “it was an accident. Things happen in a split second, yeah?” He thinks back to the way Harris had tumbled off of the bed months ago. “We found him, and that’s what matters.”

He’s trying to comfort you, which somehow makes you feel worse. You lost his kid, but he’s focusing on making you feel better.

The next words out of your mouth shatter his heart into pieces: “I think it would be better for everyone if I leave.”

A small puff of air escapes his nostrils, unsurprised but hurt nonetheless. “‘S too much for you, isn’t it?” he mumbles, not even daring to glance in your direction as he says it.

He knows. He knows that you aren’t cut out for this, that you’ll never be the mom Harris needs or deserves. In his own words, he knows it’s too much for you.

You say nothing in return, and your silence is louder than the cartoon squabble just a few feet away.

“Fine, just…just go, then.” He slams one palm on the bathroom sink, the other raking through his hair so forcefully that a few strands come loose. “God, I need a fucking cigarette!” he mutters, jaw clenched.

“I’m so sorry.” It’s all you can think to say. You’ll repeat it over and over again if it rectifies the situation.

“Yeah, whatever.” He starts to leave the room, not even turning back around to say, “I’ll tell Harris you’re not feeling well.” He wants to ask you to call the hotel room when you get home but bites back the request. That’s something one partner asks of another, and you aren’t partners anymore, he realizes bitterly, and it’s his fault. He’d put the responsibility of parenthood on you far too quickly.

He could have insisted that Harris stay and nap with him rather than letting him go to the park. He could have kept Harris by his side while you got the ice cream, or the three of you could have gone together. Instead, he’d just assumed that this was a role you had no qualms about taking on. In his eagerness to build this little family, he’d squandered the foundation before it had even set.

Eddie watches as you walk away, the words wait and don’t go and we can figure this out lurking behind his molars, but he remains silent.

When the door slams behind you, he bites on his thumb. Go after her, some part of him—his conscience, maybe—nags, but he pushes the thought away. He can’t ask you to stick around and be a mom to his son if it isn't truly what you want to do.

He removes his finger from between his teeth and shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, temporarily confused when he’s met with some resistance. The tiny brown paper bag crinkles as his fingers make contact with it, and he pulls it out dejectedly.

He’d spotted the necklace while scavenging for record vendors and made a mental note to return to it when you weren’t there to see. A tiny metal heart on a chain that he’d planned to give to you at the end of the trip. It was the reason he’d left you alone with Harris; he’d wanted it to be a surprise.

“Well, that was a fuckin’ waste,” Eddie says to no one in particular, shoving it back in the confines of his pocket. He sits next to Harris, hoping Tommy Pickles’ shenanigans will melt his brain for just a few moments.

The next bus to Hawkins pulled up thirty minutes after your cab arrived at the station. It was the only way to get home, and an embarrassingly large part of you hoped that Eddie and Harris would swing by, enveloping you in a tight hug and promising you that you’re doing a great job. That you’re enough.

That moment remains a daydream, one that replays over and over as you lean your head against the window. It’s all highway from here to your small town, close to three hours on the road because of the intermediate stops, but you’re in no hurry to return. If it hurts now, you can’t imagine the pain when the loneliness sets in.

Of course Eddie wasn’t coming to rescue you; you’d let him down right when he’d needed you. It was all so superficial on your end, thinking that you could be a mother just because you’d taught Harris how to read and have dinner with him and his dad once a week.

Wallowing in pity is too indulgent, too pathetic, but you can’t keep from berating yourself. You’re a preschool teacher; how hard is it to remember to hold a kid’s hand?

Tears slip down your cheeks involuntarily and you swipe at them before your seat partner can notice. The last thing you need is to strike up an emotional conversation with a complete stranger.

And what is it with you and crying today? Getting choked up when Eddie had pointed out the donut mistake, feeling like you were going to have a meltdown alongside Harris, and now this? It’s like you have an endless supply of tears.

The most likely culprit is your run-of-the-mill PMS; you can always count on being overly sensitive on those select few days. You open your bag and take out the pocket calendar where you keep track of important appointments and dates, including your periods.

Today’s April 26. You flip back to March, rifling through the pages until you see that the first day of your last period was the twentieth.

You’re almost a full week late.

taglist (now closed):

@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

@breezybeesposts @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @81rain @dylanmunson @oscarisaacwhore @eddiesguitarskills @everheart12 @etherealglimmer @hollster88 @wh0re4life @siriuslysmoking

@bibieddiesgf @winchester-angel @starlitlakes @avalon-wolf @hazydespair @josephquinncore @daydreaminglisa @sidthedollface2 @eddiebaemunson @mandyjo8719 @daydreaming-mood @aol19 @corkadymu @starcourtnights

@rockstarmunsons @metalhead-succubus @boinkybarness @oohworldofpisces @costellation-hunter @toobsessedsstuff @meadow20 @lost-in-the-stars03 @aysheashea @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiemunsonslittlemetalhead

@chamomileh0ney @dream-a-little-nightmare @emma77645 @kurdtbean @sheneedsrocknroll92 @tlclick73 @lolly-in-a-strange-land @bakugouswh0r3

@strangerthingsstories5255 @adaydreamaway08 @harmfulb1tch @mimischaos @averagemisfit03 @steddiegarbage @vigilanteshit @ellendemeyer152 @sierrahhh @hiscrimsonangel @mrsjellymunson @idkatee

@quentinswife @momowhoo @jasminelafleur @mmunson86 @mcueveryday @augustsgetawaycar @let-love-bleeds-red @tanyaherondale @bmunson86 @lg-123

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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arkhammaid · 2 months

Text

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE SIREN'S CALL.

fandom. formula one

pairing. oscar piastri x fem!reader (fc: none)

about. y/n is a professional mermaid and oscar is her greatest admirer

content warnings. social media au spanning over a long time, not edited/proofread

notes. i got one of those aesthetic professional mermaid tiktoks on my fyp at like 2am... the idea has been stuck in my head since then lol

YOURUSERNAME

liked by mermaidaquilla, oscar piastri and 1'788 others

yourusername Conquering the big seas with my new mermaid tail. Super excited for the big show this weekend🧜‍♀️

mermaidaquilla gorgeous pictures, the color really suits you <3

⤷ yourusername thank you, aquilla 🫶 we need to go for a dive soon!

⤷ mermaidaquilla oh for sure, let me know when you have time :)

user you're incredible, y/n

user oh my god these pictures are insane??

user i can't wait for the show, going to an aquarium just for you!

⤷ yourusername ahh, thank you so much for your support darling 💗

YOURUSERNAME

liked by mermaidaquilla, oscarpiastri and 35'023 others

yourusername Happy (future) World Oceans Day! @/mermaidaquilla and I'll be doing a special show on June 8th, streaming on several platforms to raise awareness and money for our oceans 🌊 We await your attendance, tell your friends and family about it!

mermaidaquilla so happy to do this show with you love!

⤷ yourusername me as well, i'm so honored we will do this together 🥹

user oh my god, collab of my dreams finally come true

⤷ user so happy for y/n to be recognized by the bigger creators!

user marking the day on my calendar!

user my daugher loved you in your last show, thank you for brining magic a bit closer to us

user hold on, what is oscar doing in her likes...

⤷ user who??

YOURUSERNAME

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 100'244 others

yourusername I've started diving when I was just a little girl and now my job is my child hood dream... I'm a mermaid and belong to the seas. I'm so thankful for all the support I've received, hopefully to many years to come with Mermaid Y/n 💕🪸

mermaidaquilla your journey is incredible, i admire you so much for your drive, you're the mermaid of my dreams. so happy for you that you've made it love!

⤷ yourusername without you it wouldn't have been possible!! i can only thank YOU for being my biggest supporter since the beginning 💗

user every time i'm blown away by the pictures you post

user thank you for making the mermaid community bigger!

user MOTHER Y/N WE'RE SO PROUD

user mother is mothering FR

user HOLD ON WHY IS THERE A MAN ON THE LAST SLIDE??

⤷ user so i'm not the only one who noticed??? is this an official soft launch????

⤷ user i think so? y/n never posted someone without tagging them..

⤷ user our mermaid found her merman 😭

oscarpiastri Congratulations, y/n. You absolutely deserve it 👏

⤷ user OSCAR COMMENTED!!! I REPEAT, OSCAR COMMENTED!!!

⤷ user oh he's brave

⤷ user you mean more like he finally got his shit together. this is his first comment ever after being a whole year in her likes 💀

OSCARPIASTRI

liked by yourusername, landonorris, logansargeant and 1'983'034 others

oscarpiastri "She's everything and I'm just Ken."

yourusername But you're very good at car, love 🫶

⤷ oscarpiastri At least that 🫡

user OSCAR HAS A GF, I REPEAT, OSCAR HAS A GF AND SHE'S PRETTY!!!

user omg barbie y/n and her clumsy ken, i love this

landonorris congrats mate!

logansargeant FINALLY!

⤷ oscarpiastri You're acting as if we just came together...

⤷ logansargeant Well, it did take you long enough

user my new fav wag

⤷ user fr, no one can beat a mermaid

user HE FINALLY BAGGED THE GIRL!!

⤷ user took him over a year in the likes.. i feel so proud

user hold on... DOES ANYONE REMEMBER LUCY'S THREAD ABT THE BIRTHDAY PARTY IN JANUARY WITH Y/N AS MERMAID

⤷ user WAIT I THINK YOU'RE ACTUALLY ONTO SMTH

⤷ user are you saying that 'prince eric' is OSCAR MF PIASTRI???

⤷ user his sister is an icon if this is actually true

⤷ user someone give her an award for the greatest matchmaker of the decade (right after oscar and y/n receiving one of the greatest lovestory of the decade)

⤷ user childhood friends to lovers with a twist (only if the whole thing is true which i'm manifesting rn)

user my god the delusion some people have 💀

taglist.@keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @lupicalbestwolf , @akiraquote , @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @namgification

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE TAGLIST? please send a non-anon ask to be added to the taglist. taglist can be general taglist (all fandoms and all works), fandom taglist (all works within the fandom), series (all works for specific series) or nsfw taglist (all nsfw works and all fandoms).

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

ARKHAM MAID 2024

#f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 social media au #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smau #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri fanfic #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations

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javigutierrez · 3 months

Text

Are you alright, Honey?

Javi Gutierrez x afab!reader oneshot

Summary: You’re going on a long weekend with your gorgeous new boyfriend, and after a day of unresolved sexual tension out on a roadtrip you’re ready to jump him the second you get home. Unless he finds a movie at the gas station he had been looking for for years and he wants to watch it with you. Will you be able to mask your desire for him, to enjoy a movie that means so much to him? (Spoiler alert no you won’t)

Rating & Word count: Explicit | ~8500 words

Warnings/tags: fluffffff, freshly established relationship, pining like whoa, very explicit smut, f!oral, f!fingering, tons of nipple play, non-penetrative sex (sumata ig?), unprotected penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, allusions to squirting, pleasure dom!Javi vibes, tw alcohol, tw food mention, Javi is a major dumb of ass but he makes up for it, reader has female genitalia, some boobs, and long enough hair to tuck it behind their ear but no other descriptions (let me know if you find anything else!), no age references

A/N: Here it is, after years of contemplating I'm posting my first fanfic in 12 years and my first fanfic in English ever. Please be kind, English is not my first language ❤ This is a huge thing to me, and I wouldn't have been able to get there without the help and encouragement of my lovely friends - I owe a kidney to @psychedelic-ink and @shellshocklove for their tremendous help as my betas, and to @iamasaddie @perotovar @chronically-ghosted @wannab-urs for listening to my bitching and moaning along the way and still staying my loyal cheerleaders 🥺 The whole idea popped into my mind like a movie while editing this gifset (which was inspired by @prolix-yuy’s Javi story, so special thanks to LJ 🥰), that 5th gif corrupting my mind for the next 2,5 months and this was the only way I could finally get it out of my system. 🤡 I hope you'll enjoy it! ❤

This was quite an eventful day. You spent your whole day out with Javi, having a road trip at Côte d’Azur. After a little bit more than a month of dating you had decided to go on a long weekend together, choosing the French coastlines. You had been absolutely amazed by the experience; clear azure waves embracing golden shores, the streets of seaside towns winding through history with beautiful architecture and warm colours, mountain tops lurking on the horizon behind the town. After Javi had told you he would get you into the Cannes movie festival, you were already talking about coming back for a few days.

The sights were unbelievable and the food was delectable, but what really made the trip unforgettable was your new boyfriend. Spending time with Javi was so easy. With him, all your anxiety washed away - his sweet and caring personality was like a soothing balm for your soul, and with his fun-loving side, you really felt like living your life to the fullest. Not to mention how he showed his true colors in the bedroom. Absolutely devoted to your pleasure, he could be worshipping you, making you feel like a goddess, other times he would make you beg, then shower you with praises while he was giving you exactly what you needed. Who would have thought only a few weeks before, when you had started chatting with a stranger waiting in line at the cinema, that he would sweep you off of your feet almost immediately and turn your life upside down in the best way possible?

There you were right now, coming home from another amazing day spent with him, laughing with him, staring at his profile while he was driving, smoothing out his sun-bleached locks tangled up by the wind in the cabrio while he was looking at you all doe-eyed and dopey-smiled. You were holding his hand, feeling his hand on your bare thigh, resting at the hem of your bunched-up sundress comfortably and sometimes you had caught him looking at you with the same intensity. It was safe to say, by the time you got in the car to get home you were ready to jump him.

There was only one tiny thing you hadn’t calculated for when you had been planning your night (or rather imagining it dreamily from all angles): finding a DVD at a gas station. When his eyes fell on the item, he’d looked confused for a few seconds, but then taking it from the shelf and reading the cover his face lit up like a child’s in a candy store.

As it turned out, it was an indie French movie he had watched with his parents back when he was young and they had been on a holiday. They had rarely spent quality time together, so he cherished those few occasions he’d felt like he belonged to an ordinary, loving family. He remembered the time fondly and he always wanted to find the movie because of the nostalgia of it all, but he had forgotten the title and didn’t know the actors, so after a lot of unsuccessful attempts, he’d given up trying.

“Can we watch this tonight? Please?” He looked at you with big brown eyes, enveloping the DVD in his hands, (dwarfing it, really) and pressing it to his heart. And how could you say no to him? If he looked at you like that, you would have agreed to watch a 10-hour-long film about paint drying on a wall.

“Of course, Javi,” you smiled at him gently, your heart melting from his child-like joy as you watched him gallop to the cashier to pay for the gas and the DVD. You pushed the slight disappointment of not being able to climb this gorgeous goofball of a man as soon as you get home, to the back of your mind.

At the end of the day, you were genuinely happy to just spend time with him. You blamed your hormones and the fact that you were still in the honeymoon phase for being pent up all day. You couldn’t help it, but you are a big girl in an adult relationship, you decided, you can have one night without having sex with this tall, broad, gentle but surprisingly strong, passionate, generous, highly skilled–

“Let’s go!” he urged you with an adorable grin and shining eyes, grabbing your hand and tugging you out of the gas station. Your heart swelled from the sight. Yes, you can have a peaceful night if it makes him happy, and you will be just as hyped to watch the movie as him. It did seem like a good movie based on the cover, and you knew it meant the world to him, so you wouldn’t spoil his fun with your neediness.

By the time you got back to your rented house, it was already dark, and the early autumn weather had gotten a bit more chilly. Javi practically jumped out of the car (but still rushed to your side to open your door).

You agreed that you would prepare the snacks and set up the TV, while he would start the fireplace and get a bottle of wine from the cellar. He gave you a soft peck on your lips, one hand resting on the back of your neck, then he pretty much ran to the cellar - you think you even heard him giggling on his way. His enthusiasm was infectious, even though you’d never even heard about the movie before, now you were excited to watch it.

When you found out how to get the DVD to work Javi was already tinkling with the logs on the fireplace, a bottle of wine with two glasses on the kitchen counter already. You let yourself get lost in the sight for a good minute, your cavewoman brain activated by looking at him focusing on his task with his arms flexing, but then you shook yourself from your reveries, going to the American-style kitchen to put a bag of popcorn in the microwave and wash some grapes, then putting the wine on the coffee table next to the couch.

You couldn’t help but steal a few more glances at him. His short-sleeved shirt was now unbuttoned, hanging on his shoulders and your eyes fell on his white tank top straining over his torso. He seemed especially broad like this, and you couldn’t wait to cuddle with him and bury your face in his chest, kissing over the constellations of freckles on his shoulders and chest you were so familiar with by now.

Once the fire was lighting, he looked at you proudly and you beamed back at him. The more his eyes were on you, the more his look grew softer. His gaze full of adoration made butterflies whoosh in your stomach - you were overwhelmed by emotions for this man, sometimes it even made you scared of falling too hard.

“Are you sure you’re okay with watching this movie tonight, cariño?” He asked tenderly, his voice raspy and deep. He walked up to you to put his hands on your waist, caressing you with his thumbs and lowering his head to really look into your eyes. “I know these four days are supposed to be about the two of us.” There was no hurt or any malice in his voice, he was ready to drop the plan the second you said so. It felt like he was staring into your soul and suddenly you felt guilty. You obviously didn’t try hard enough to support him if he felt the need to ask and that made your guts tie up in a knot. You put your hands on the sides of his neck, then lowered them to his shoulders, then his chest. You never broke eye contact.

“Honey, I’m absolutely sure. We had a long day so a movie night is perfect to wind down and this movie seems super interesting! I swear, I can’t wait to start it already!” You rose on your tiptoes and laid an innocent kiss on his lips. He didn’t let you go, holding your face to deepen the kiss and a zap ran through your body as his tongue slipped between your lips to taste you.

You felt his little huff on your upper lip, and you couldn’t resist the quiet moan that escaped your throat. The sound somewhat sobered you up, and you broke the kiss, feeling a little dizzy. He opened his eyes slowly, looking a bit disheveled himself. You had a mission to accomplish, you couldn’t get distracted all the time… you went back up just to give a small kiss on the tip of his nose, which made him smile bashfully, his eyes crinkling adorably.

“Come on baby, let’s start it!”

You grabbed the snacks, but he took them from you with a kiss on your temple, and you both headed to the couch. He put the snacks down on the table and plopped down on the L-shaped furniture as you went on a quick round to light some candles around the room, bathing it in warm colours. You started with the candles in the back and as you worked your way back up you caught him pouring wine into your glasses, then he started to explore the menu of the DVD to set up an English subtitle. With a small sigh, you allowed yourself to indulge yourself in his sight one last time while you were finishing up the candles.

He quite literally took your breath away. His lovely locks you adored to bury your hands into so much, his eyes sparkling from the TV’s light and crinkled with a smile he probably didn’t even notice he had on his face. Your eyes followed the curve of his prominent nose and fell on his lips under his neat mustache. Those pouty lips... you had some vivid memories involving them. The man might look innocent, but he sure knew how to do sin when he wanted to.

He leaned back with his legs propped up and reached out to you. You climbed on top of him and nestled yourself into his chest. He held you close to him, situating himself so you were sitting between his legs, resting your back on his chest.

“Ready, cariño?” He hummed into your neck, pressing a small kiss there. Your blood sizzled under your sensitive skin.

“Never been more ready! Let’s go!”

Javi started the movie and scooted even closer to you, if possible. Strong arms resting on your stomach, caging you in, he nuzzled your neck with a low hum, leaving a trail of kisses up your jaw, finishing with the softest of kisses on your cheek. You felt intoxicated, despite the untouched glasses on the table. His warmth was making your whole body melt, the way his chest rose and fell rhythmically behind you soothed you, and his cologne filled your nostrils with something warm and spicy and citrusy. But below all those layers it smelled uniquely like him, perfectly complementing his perfume. You would recognize it anywhere, after so many times of tasting his skin all over his body – it was the perfect concoction.

He was none the wiser about your… rather delicate situation, eyes glued to the screen, hands absentmindedly caressing your hips and stomach. You tried to focus on the movie, and you were able to catch glimpses of it and laugh at the jokes, but his touches kept distracting you. More often than not you caught yourself looking at his sinewy forearms, the golden watch on his wrist, and the ring on his pinky catching on your dress from time to time. You slowly traced the veins on his arms, and as you tried to focus on the screen again you played with the edges of his watch and ring. He gently caught your hand, intertwining your fingers and raising it to his face for a kiss on your knuckles.

“Some wine?” He murmured sometime later.

You were grateful for the opportunity, slightly going mad from the tension as you were stewing in your juices. He barely finished his question, you were already leaning for the glasses, handing him one. “Oo-kay,” he chuckled at your enthusiasm, albeit a little confused by your behaviour. He paused the movie and sat up at the corner of the couch. You were still between his legs, but you both positioned yourself to turn to each other more at the corner. His left hand held the glass, and his right was on your waist, keeping you close to him. His eyes were glazed over looking at your face and you could only imagine how ridiculously smitten you must have looked like.

“For this perfect day, and for the unexpected gifts it has brought us,” he said, raising his glass.

“For this perfect day, that is about to get even better,” you answered, making him grin with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

You clinked your glasses and raised it to your lips, him barely tasting the wine through a sip, while you downed the whole glass. Leaning back against the backrest of the couch, you tried to look put together. The taste really was divine, and you had hoped it would help to calm your nerves a bit. Javi was visibly amused looking at you.

“You liked it, huh, cariño?” He asked, getting your glasses and putting them on the table leaning over your legs.

You giggled in response, smiling shyly at him with a small shrug, “It tasted amazing, Javi. It was a great choice.”

“I knew you would love this. Say the word and a box of these will be at my house by the time we get home,” he said, as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ears and kept his hand on the side of your face.

“Consider it said.” You winked at him and he breathed out a silent laugh, but he tilted his head a little with a small frown between his brows, seemingly inspecting you. You had a feeling you had looked a bit nervous, only because you’d tried to clumsily mask your desire for him, wanting to give this night to him to enjoy a movie that meant so much to him but… you clearly weren’t succeeding. You knew he was about to ask you about it, so instead you grabbed the remote before he could speak.

“Shall we?” You asked nonchalantly.

His hand dropped from your face. “Of course,” he said.

He shook his head a little, failing at figuring you out as he leaned back on the couch. You laid down in front of him so you could continue watching the movie while he spooned you, and pressed the play button. You’d hoped that with this new pose, there would be less temptation as you’re not laying on him anymore, but boy, were you wrong.

He hoisted you closer to his body, his hand splayed out on your stomach, and kept you there, almost protectively. Staring at it, you dumbly wondered about how much smaller your torso looked under his hand than your own and that activated something primal in your mind again. You felt his crotch pressed up to your ass, and though he wasn’t hard, it made your cunt throb around nothing. It was so close, yet so far, and you weren’t allowed to do anything about it. Your guts twisted, and you wiggled every few minutes, pressing your thighs together, uselessly fighting the arousal that kept getting more and more suffocating.

A few minutes later he nuzzled at the back of your ear, and the combined sensations of his breath in your ear and the soft tickle of his mustache and stubble made a shudder run through your body, followed by goosebumps everywhere.

“Are you alright, honey?” He murmured, looking at your profile.

“Of course, Javi,” you said, not very convincingly. “Just trying to find the perfect angle.” You explained as you wiggled some more, still staring at the TV, as your thumb gently smoothed across his knuckles to soothe him.

“Right…” he replied.

Whatever he thought, he didn’t say anything else.

However, a few minutes later the hand that had been on your stomach slowly wandered down, below the hem of your sundress, and he gently, but firmly lifted your thigh to fit his between your legs. The movement was so unexpected that you couldn’t hold back a small groan from the pleasure the friction gave you.

“You sure you’re alright?” Javi asked innocently behind your back, his hand now smoothing over the bare skin on your thigh, leaving an electric feeling beneath your skin in its trail. Every single one of his touches made arousal pool between your legs. You silently cursed at your body for growing more and more sensitive, begging for him to come closer.

“Yeah…” you practically squeaked. You were close to your breaking point.

Javi only hummed, his hand stopping to rest it on your stomach again. You were fighting your instincts to rub yourself on his thigh for a few minutes, and you were proud of yourself for resisting, but then he moved between your legs a little, enough to give attention to your aching clit, and the hiss that escaped your lips made him come to a halt.

It felt like the time froze for a few seconds, none of you daring to move. You, trying to take back control over your treacherous body, and him obviously assessing the situation. You mentally did a facepalm as you felt your wet underwear sticking to his pants. He didn’t say anything, but his hand moved down from your stomach and bunched up your skirt. He breathed out your name, almost admonishing, and it made your heart jump. His hand was dangerously close to where you wanted him the most, and as his palm covered your mound, thick fingers reaching your soaked panties, he buried his face in the back of your neck.

“Oh, honey…” he choked. He took a deep inhale, smelling your scent, then suddenly sat up and paused the movie.

“No, Javi, I was watching it!” You wanted to wince at yourself, your act was truly ridiculous at this point.

“None of that, cariño.” He shook his head, turning you on your back with a firm hand on your hip. “You obviously need me, please let me take care of you.”

“It really can wait, I don’t mind!” You protested. You wanted nothing more than for him to touch you, but you didn’t want to be selfish.

“Well, I don’t want to wait!” He declared, his gaze burning you as it fell from your face, scanning your body splayed out in front of him. “What about this: I eat you out, then we can continue the movie. Would that be okay for you?”

You stared at him like a deer caught in a headlight. Is he serious? But his words definitely affected you.

“Please, cariño,” he continued in a gentler tone, his pleading eyes finding yours again. “Let me eat your pretty pussy, now.”

That was the last nail in your coffin, you swore under your breath as you almost went cross-eyed from his words only. “Fffuck, okay… okay let’s do this” you croaked after a few seconds, your defenses crumbling like a house of cards in a tornado.

“Atta girl,” he smirked, and in an instant, he was on top of you.

His fingers found their way into your hair as he put his lips on you, the press of his body a comforting weight on you. His kiss was electric, hot, and sensual. He sucked your lips in with a primal hunger, his tongue licking against the seam of your lips, opening you up to him and claiming your mouth with dominance. You barely noticed the soft sounds coming from your throat, only when you felt the corners of his mouth curl up slightly in a smile. You felt like you had to anchor yourself as you gripped the back of his open yellow shirt so hard, it was protesting against your ministrations on his shoulders.

“Mmmtake—this—off,” you whispered desperately against his all-encompassing kiss.

Javi leaned back, his hair disheveled, to practically tear the shirt off of himself. With a huff through his nose, his eyes gazed at your kiss-swollen lips with hunger. You were out of breath from the intensity of the kiss, panting softly as you took in the sight of him.

He still had his tank top on, your mouth already dropping from the show. His top only accentuated his wide shoulders and narrow waist, and his skin kissed by the firelight was glowing in a golden light, its colours and the way the lights and shadows exaggerated his features made you drool. You could never resist the freckles on his shoulders and chest either. If you weren’t already on the edge of insanity, you would spend hours kissing and biting along his torso, but now clearly none of you had the patience for that.

He came back to you and started suckling on your neck, one of your hands flying to his back to weakly trace the ridges of his shoulder blade, while the other clutched his bicep. Keeping up his ministrations on your neck he gently bunched up your dress above your stomach. His thigh found its way back between your legs and this time you bucked your hips up shamelessly. He groaned as he felt your wet warmth staining his pants and his lips traveled lower. As he trailed your collarbone with the tip of his tongue between his lips, two of his fingers touched you through your panties and you moaned out loud.

“Javi, please!” you whined as he trailed his middle and ring finger up your seam, and tapped on your clit through the soaked textile. You were so worked up, you felt your heart pounding in your ears.

“Shhh cariño, I got you,” he murmured, his voice impossibly low and his breath burning your chest.

His fingers never gave up, but he always kept his touches light, making you throb uncontrollably. You watched him move lower, and you couldn’t decide what to stare at: his lips and tongue molding against your fevered skin, or the dips and hills of his shoulders and biceps flexing as he kept himself up with one arm while torturing you with the other. He traced his tongue around your navel and he looked up at you as he licked over its valley, his fingers mimicking the movement below. He then had the audacity to send you a cheeky wink as your whole body shuddered.

“Fuuuck, stop teasing me, I can’t take it anymore!” you sounded pathetic, but you didn’t care at this point.

“Okay, baby. You earned it.”

He consoled you quietly with a final kiss to your lower stomach, before hooking his fingers into your panties to slowly drag the piece down. If it was anyone else you probably would have felt awkward about how the fabric protested at first, sticking to your cunt, but with Javi, if anything, you felt powerful.

He was visibly trying to compose himself as he gently helped you get both your legs out of the ruined piece and with a shaky exhale he scooted back. He shove a cushion under your ass as he laid down on his belly, navigating your thighs over his shoulders, eyeing your center with blown-out pupils.

“I will never get used to this,” he mused to himself with wonder in his voice, as he splayed his hands across the crease of your ass to softly spread your cunt wide open with his thumbs. You felt his heavy huff on your pussy, and it made you twitch again. He looked captivated by the sight.

“Javi, I swear to go—oohhh my god,” Javi cut you off as the flat of his tongue licked a broad and firm stripe through your folds with a depraved moan.

Your whole body lifted up, and he hooked his arms around your legs, grabbing at the top of your thighs as he held you down, keeping you close to his ravenous mouth. He gave you a few greedy laps, slowly exploring all of your cunt before his tongue lazily went around your hole. Your muscles were twitching, your chest and neck aflame, and if his sight weren’t so hypnotizing you would have thrown your head back already. You felt boneless.

Your abs shaking from the strain of keeping you upright, you grabbed a few cushions you could reach from your position, and shoved them under your head, angling yourself perfectly to watch him at work. He was licking at you tirelessly, mapping all your sensitive spots, before he started to fuck you with his tongue, slowly but deliberately grazing your walls all around.

You let out a raspy moan at the sensation - he was the first person who had ever done this to you and you were still surprised by it every single time. The feel of his agile muscle prodding at your sensitive flesh made your vision blur and sweat gather around your temple. He went as deep as possible, and after an inhale he buried his nose in your clit, slightly moving it left and right. You felt him everywhere as if he was surrounding your entire body. One of your hands grabbed a cushion so tightly, it made your knuckles ache, your other hand finding purchase in his soft locks.

You were scraping his scalp with your fingernails, and he practically purred, the sounds vibrating against your raw flesh, starting a fire in your guts as goosebumps erupted on your skin. You couldn’t help pulling at a handful of hair as your pussy spasmed around his deft tongue. His purr turned into a growl as he removed himself, gulping some air still a few inches away from your cunt. Your hands lifelessly plopped down around you.

“Fuck, cariño, I won’t ever get enough of you,” his speech was slurred like he was drunk and he looked up at you with disoriented eyes. “You taste so good, I would happily drown in you.”

You wanted to react, you really did, but as he was talking one of his hands left your thigh and traced an invisible pattern down the apex of your thighs, fingers traveling through your cunt and gathering your juices, then reaching their destination, a thick digit slipping into you just when you wanted to answer him. Whatever you wanted to tell him, he rendered you speechless with literally a swipe of his finger. The cracking of the fire and the slick sounds of your pussy were the only noises around you, until you felt his mouth on you again. He lapped up the juices escaping you around his finger, sucking on your lips with obscenely loud noises. You wanted to cover your face because you suddenly felt self-conscious, but his free hand grabbed your wrist as you heard him call your name brokenly.

“Please don’t hide away from me, I want to see your face as I bring you pleasure,” he pleaded, his accent a bit stronger than usual.

The mere look of him was debauched, all messy-haired and shiny-faced, looking at you like you hung the moon and the stars in the sky. Your heart skipped a beat, and you held onto his hand, his thumb tracing reassuring circles on your knuckles immediately. Your other hand smoothed his unruly hair out of his face, and he went back, keeping eye contact with you.

“Look at me,” he rasped one last time before diving in.

He dragged his tongue up between your folds as his finger started moving again. He looked up at you the entire time from under his lashes, eyes half-lidded. As he reached your clit you jumped a little, and he opened his mouth wider so you could see his tongue moving against the tortured little nub with a small wiggle. You had to compose yourself not to let your eyes roll back, the sight somehow multiplying the already devastating sensation tenfold.

“You’re so fucking good to me, Javi,” you uttered, caressing his hair and you could see a shiver running down his spine. “I’m so—so—“

“I know, mi amor, I can feel it. Let go for me.”

He groaned and sucked your clit into his mouth, laving it with his tongue. You squealed, not knowing if you wanted to escape from his ministrations or let him consume you. You tried to trash around but his hands came up and covered the bottom of your stomach, holding you down again. You had half the mind to notice him slowly grinding onto the couch, but then you felt his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, along with his finger rubbing that perfect spot inside you again, and you felt like a lightning struck you.

All your muscles seized up as white-hot pleasure coursed through your veins. At first, you couldn’t even breathe, let alone make a sound, but then a groan tore out from the depth of your chest and you fell back on the couch lifelessly. Javi never let up licking at you, prolonging your catharsis, not stopping even when you tried to squirm away from oversensitivity.

“No, no wait—“ you pleaded with a shaky voice to no avail. Everything was too much, but you couldn’t escape from his iron grip. Javi greedily explored all your sensitive spots around your swollen vulva and hole with firm strokes, before he found the button of your clit again, sucking on it harshly dragging you under the waves of ecstasy for a second time that night with a squeak. His mouth was sucking at you relentlessly through the helpless spasms of your body, draining all the energy from you and filling your brain with fuzzy cotton. You fell back limply, muttering nonsense while his mouth gently cleaned you up.

You had no idea how long you were just laying there uselessly, basking in the afterglow with Javi still between your legs. His face rested on the plush of your thigh, his breathing slow but heavy, his eyes closed and his hands flexing.

Once your wits came back to you, you noticed a faint dent on your thigh from Javi’s ring, a thought of how you wanted to tattoo it on your skin filled your mind – to keep it there forever.

You played with his hair again, curling a silky strand around your finger by scraping little circles on his scalp. As if you woke him up from a stupor, he looked up at you, breathing now almost normal, but his pupils were still blown out. He wiped his face on your inner thigh, then kissed and sucked off the remnants of your wetness there and you giggled, his facial hair tickling you. He crawled up your body with a smile across his face, before he laid next to you. You immediately followed him, decorating the hot skin on his shoulders and collarbone with lazy, open-mouthed kisses. He weakly pawed at your waist to bring you closer to him, then dragged the bottom of your dress over your thighs to give you some decency.

“Sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” he pondered and gently pinched your ass. You snickered as you playfully swatted his chest, before laying your head on his pecs. His heart was beating wildly and it made you swoon, so much so that you had to lay a soft kiss between his pecs, just above the hem of his top before nuzzling even more into his blushed chest, as a content sigh fell from your lips. Your gaze couldn’t help but fall to his bulge - he was visibly affected by your previous endeavors.

“Javi…” you whispered in his neck, while your hand gently caressed his stomach. You felt his heavy exhale under you. “If you want… we can continue…”

“Oh! Of course, cariño!” he said, perking up, reaching out for the remote control and pushing the play button again, eyes immediately glued on the screen.

You laid there, having a mental tantrum. Well, things weren’t going the way expected. How can he still be thinking about the movie?

Squashing that ugly disappointment down, you turned in his arms to try to focus on the TV again. You weren’t allowed to complain, he said he would make you cum and you would continue the movie, and he did just that and more. You couldn’t help the ravenous hunger you had for this man though, it was never enough of him. You laid a soft kiss on his bicep below your head and your arm reached behind to gently shove him back against you. He followed you diligently, but he tensed as his bulge, now hard, rested against your ass again.

“I’m sorry honey, I’ll just need a minute,” he apologised quietly, voice strained from embarrassment and barely veiled desire.

The devil on your shoulder took over you as you rolled your hips against him slowly but deliberately. The filthy sound coming from deep in his chest melted your bones, making it hard to keep back your own needy whine.

“Wh—what are you doing?”

His strong grip on your hip felt like a warning, but his voice was so weak. That’s what made you throw all your culture out the window, giddy roiling in your guts from feeling him get fully erect against you. You barely registered your hand moving mindlessly, grinding your palm against him. His hand clenched around your forearm easily, but he didn’t move it away.

“I need you, Javi,” you begged shamelessly, turning your head back in his direction as much as possible.

“Fuck…” he breathed, eyes closed shut with a loud gulp. When he opened his eyes again his gaze was intense, one of his hands cradling your face as he propped himself up on his elbow to look deeply into your eyes. “I thought you wanted to watch the movie…”

That made you freeze with confusion, even your hand stopped moving over him.

“…me?” You asked incredulously. “I mean yeah, it does seem like a great movie and I’d happily watch it any other time, but I couldn’t wait to be alone with you the entire day. I’ve wanted to eat you up since we crawled out of bed this morning. But I’m happy to do anything as long as I’m with you– and you looked so happy to find that movie… I don’t know… I just didn’t want to ruin your joy with my neediness, I guess” you confessed hastily with warm cheeks.

A soft sound of surprise got stuck in his throat as he looked at you with saucer eyes, gaping like a fish. It looked rather comical if you were honest. If you didn’t feel so sheepish about your clumsy confession, you would have giggled at his expression.

He shook his head lightly, as if processing your words. “So that’s why you were acting so weird tonight!” He exclaimed, relief evident on his face. He breathed out your name softly, his thumb caressing your face ever so gently.

“I felt the same way the entire day. I got distracted by finding the movie, I give you that, but up until that moment, I was contemplating taking you in the bathroom in every single place we visited. Even in the car, consequences be damned,” he huffed, and you had to clench your thighs to alleviate the need growing between them again from the mental image.

“Cariño, I have the DVD now, I can watch it whenever I want!” He tutted, “I swear, one day I’m gonna write a screenplay for you to be the lead in it, you’re such a talented actress. You seemed so eager to watch this movie that I felt guilty for trying to distract you,” he smoothed a strand of hair behind your ear with a chuckle, “I suppose both of us were fools…”

You couldn’t hold back a rather unsexy snort at that, but it made him beam at you with crinkling eyes.

He cupped your jaw and leaned over to press a sweet kiss on your lips, but it immediately grew hungry. The stark difference between his precious face and the taste of yourself still on his tongue made a shudder run through your body.

Javi can really do both, you thought dreamily, but you were quickly snapped back to reality when he rolled you on top of him and deepened the kiss as he slowly sat up, helping you to position yourself on your knees around his hips. He planted his feet on the couch and grabbing your bare asscheeks firmly he dragged your pulsing center down on his bulge.

Your hands flew to his hair, arms resting on his shoulders, feeling like passing out when you felt his cock twitch against your bare pussy, tearing a low hiss out of him. He bunched up and gripped your dress around your torso.

“This little dress was teasing me all day,” he groaned, slowly pulling down the zip on your back, the edge of his thumb caressing your bare spine in the process. “It looks fantastic on you, honey, but I need to see all of you, right now.”

By the time he finished his thought, he already tugged it off of you, your breast jiggling in front of his face from the impact of falling out of the secure hold of the dress, his heavy gaze falling to them immediately, your body now bare in his lap.

“Oh god, look at you… tan bonita,” he murmured as his hands slid over your ribs firmly, before they slipped under your breasts with a feather-light touch.

He cupped the mounds gently as his thumbs smoothly explored the skin. The pad of his fingers traced your areola, then softly rubbed over your sensitive nipples. You arched your back, leaking some more wetness on his trousers as you rubbed yourself heavier on him. One hand molded a breast into his waiting mouth, tongue wiggling around the achy nub and the other slipping down your shivering stomach, across the top of your thigh and teasing at your seam across your ass.

The suckling sensation on your nipple, while his hand was prodding teasingly at your swollen entrance made you go insane. You had to center yourself around something. You clasped the back of the couch tightly, using it as support as you pushed your chest more in his face. Without hesitation, you vigorously moved your clit against his bulge, your head arched back in ecstasy.

His wrecked moan was the prize, your breast slipping from his lips as you watched a tremor course through his entire body. Once he came back to his senses he doubled down his efforts, nuzzling the other breast and sucking the pebbled nipple in his hot mouth.

His tongue started to swirl around the hardened nub at the same time as two of his fingers drowned in your slick pussy, finding your most sensitive spot with devastating accuracy. Your mind went blank, and your gasps came out in hiccups. Your instincts took over as you were riding his bulge with trembling legs, chasing your blinding pleasure. You only had enough wits to sit back to undo his belt, ripping off his fly, and with his help, you were able to push his pants down his thighs, freeing his erect cock.

His hand grasped the base and gently tapped it against your sensitive clit, and your hips started moving again, trapping his length under your pussy as you continued to slide over him. He softly bit on your nipple in response which blazed off fireworks in your lower stomach, his other hand never stopping its brutal pace grinding against your most sensitive spot. You were so close to cumming you could practically taste it on your tongue.

“Feels so good—,“ your voice was desperate, and he let out a wrecked moan around your breast.

The soft pulling sensation, coupled with the warm, wet caresses of his mouth on your nipple, the expert touch of his fingers on your g-spot, and the tantalizing friction of your clit rubbing against the ridges of his cock, quickly sent you spiraling into a world of ecstasy and pleasure. You came with a wail, your back arching and eyes rolling back. You faintly felt Javi’s hands at the base of your back and along your spine, keeping you close to him while his eyes feasted on you falling apart for him. You fell back on his shoulders, weakly grasping at his elbows as his palms caressed your back and he showered your neck with small kisses, humming quietly between them.

“You did so well, you’re fucking amazing,” he breathed against your skin, as you felt your pulse slow down a bit. He kissed a path down your sweaty chest and came back the same route. After some blissful peace, you felt his cock twitch against you and you whined.

“Do you have one more in you, mi amor? We can rest,” Javi asked gently, his eyes searching for yours.

Bless his heart, he made you come three times and he would finish the night here and there, hard as a rock. Your body was still buzzing and you felt sore from his thick fingers but one look at his sinful state was enough to get you in the mood again.

His lovely locks were now sticking to his face, the perspiration on his chest only making him glow even more. His mouth was agape, plush lower lip kiss-swollen, and his dark eyes silently pleading with you. Instead of giving him an answer, you gripped the hem of his tank top and peeled the offending item off of him as he held up his arms, helping you and keeping his lustrous eyes on yours.

Resting your hands on the top of his chest you kissed down his neck, between his collarbones. Sitting back lower on his legs, you could trace your tongue between his pecs and down to his soft stomach. You couldn’t help but kiss around his little belly, giving him a playful bite which made him jolt with a small laugh. Your finger traced the soft patch of hair below his navel, and understanding your silent request, he kicked down the remaining of his clothes while you kneeled on the side.

You were fascinated as you watched his cock in all its glory, shiny from your juices, precum already leaking from the angry, red tip. Your mouth watered at the sight, and you were already in motion to have a taste for yourself when he stopped you, gently putting his hands around your arms.

“It pains me to stop you, but the second I feel your mouth on me, I would be a goner.” His husky voice was layered with desire. “C’mere, I need to be inside you,” he added, and you almost jumped on him.

You crawled back over his hips while he pumped his cock a few times, his veins bulging in his cock and forearms. It was one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen and you filed the idea for later exploration. You went lower on him and he smeared his member over your slit, covering him in your juices generously again, then he prodded the head at your entrance.

“Come on, cariño, let me feel you, please,” he growled, and you carefully descended down on him.

You were over quite a few nights with him, but your pussy still struggled to accommodate his size, especially now that you were still sore and sensitive from earlier. The struggle felt like a pinch and you whined, but he cradled your face and kissed your forehead.

“It’s okay honey, take your time,” he whispered and let you take the lead for the moment.

He caressed everywhere he could reach. He sucked two fingers into his mouth and lead them to your clit, ever so slightly drawing circles around it. At first, it felt like a needle stab, but a few seconds later it turned into pleasure. You swallowed more of him with a quiver. You felt so full, even though you were still a few inches apart from sitting down completely.

His tongue found your breasts again, laving at the skin with bites and kisses alternating between them, tongue chasing your puffy nipple with confident laps. When he sucked in your soaked bud to bite down on it your cunt bottomed out, swallowing his cock entirely as a fresh wave of slickness coated his base. He tore away from your glistening nipple, burying his face between your breasts with a heavy groan.

“You’re so fucking tight around me,” he rasped into your damp chest. “You were made for me. And your skin is so fucking silky.”

Just to prove his point, his greedy tongue made its way up your chest, across your neck and jaw and to claim your mouth in a hedonistic kiss, as his hands grabbed the meat of your ass; not to force you to move, but to ground himself.

The kiss was a little clumsy, but no less toe-curling, his tongue exploring your mouth and teeth clashing as you started to rise and fall against him. You felt so full, as if he was in your guts. Your lungs burned as you felt more and more overwhelmed by the inferno in your body. You broke away from him only to lay back, hands grabbing his shins while continuing to move up and down on his cock.

The new angle was exhausting, but it rubbed your insides from just the perfect direction, and your vision blurred from the sensation. From this angle he had the best view of his cock disappearing in your puffy cunt, then appearing again, covered in your juices. Javi was hypnotized by the sight, his mouth dropping, and eyebrows knitted tightly together.

“That’s it, use me, just like that,” he grunted, trapped under your spell over him.

Heavy-lidded eyes followed your every move, and as he reached out to touch your overworked clit again your thighs started to tremble so hard that you couldn’t continue gyrating against him. He swore under his breath as you throbbed around him another time, and you leaned over his body to grab his shoulders.

He prompted you to rise higher on your knees above him as he secured his feet on the surface of the couch. One arm braced himself next to his torso, while the other slipped up your back to grab your shoulder from the back, and he started to pound into you mercilessly, stealing your breath. You could barely stay in place, so you grabbed the backrest of the couch as you felt tears pricking your eyes from the intensity.

“Are you close, baby? I’m so close but I need you to come first,” he strained, seemingly every muscle in his body tensing from the exertion.

He looked like a sculpture of a deity from ancient times, especially when his head fell back, the thick column of his gorgeous neck on full display. You could only nod, not being able to even form a coherent thought anymore as your desperate whines became constant. He raised his head again - he couldn’t keep his gaze away from where you connected, his face almost looked angry from the concentration.

“Fuckfuckfuck, rub your clit for me,” he roared, and you followed his order immediately.

Almost as soon as you touched your clit, you started shuddering violently with a loud and raspy cry, tears running down your face as he kept grazing your g-spot with every powerful thrust. You felt possessed as your entire body short-circuited, and your ears started ringing. You faintly registered his load painting your walls as your throbbing core milked him dry, his growl echoing in your ears.

You collapsed on him like a ragdoll, your sweaty bodies colliding as he kept you close to his chest. As you came back to your wits a few minutes later you felt raw and weak and vulnerable, but it was okay because Javi was there, embracing you with strong arms and gentle kisses across your face, swiping away your tears. His body was like a shelter as you clung to him with all your limbs and he kept you safe from whatever was happening outside of your bubble.

“Are you okay?” He whispered, your name falling from his lips like a prayer as his hand smoothed over your hair while his body swayed you gently.

“I’m… I’m more than okay,” you croaked, still feeling boneless as you weakly clasped into his body. “Thank you, this was a spiritual experience.” He huffed a small laugh at that.

“You are incredible,” he cooed.

You lazily nuzzled deeper into his neck with a hum, letting his scent calm your frayed nerves down. You stayed like that, limbs intertwined for a while, before Javi reluctantly pulled out of you, making the both of you groan as he gently helped you to lay on your back and he hurried to the bathroom in all his naked glory.

He came back soon, but that little time was enough for you to realize that your thighs and mound were drenched. That explains the out-of-body experience.

Javi sat down next to you, a warm and wet washcloth in his hand. He cleaned you up with reverence, eyeing the marks he had left over your body. He seemed worried, but you wore them with pride.

“That’s very kind of you, but I think we will need to shower anyway,” you smiled bashfully, and he placed a smooth kiss on your forehead.

“I wasn’t sure if you had enough energy for that,” he rasped.

“If you help me, it won’t be an issue,” you sat up slowly, your coordination akin to a newborn foal, his hand held out to help you to stand.

“Of course, cariño.”

His warm eyes made your knees buckle, this time not from your physical activities. As if on cue, the credits rolled on the screen with a blaring sound, and both of you jerked your head in its direction with alarm, obviously forgetting about the movie going in the background the entire time. You looked back at each other with wide eyes, laughter erupting out of you at the same time.

“So, you wanna watch the movie when we get back home?” He snickered.

“Definitely!” You perked up at the prospect of spending more time with him after your getaway. Besides, now it was your mission to finally really watch the movie. “Unless you’ll need me again,” you added, wiggling your eyebrows at him. He chuckled and smacked your ass gently.

“I was hoping for that answer.”

—————

THE END.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs & feedbacks are highly appreciated ♥️

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