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littlemissmiller · 4 months

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𝑀𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑌𝑜𝑢

Pairing: joel miller x fem!reader

Summary: the summer before you graduated college, Joel Miller became a regular at the bar you worked. he was perfect except one small problem…you already have a boyfriend

Warning: 21+ (drinking), fluff, slight age gap (reader is in her early 20s and Joel is 30) smut, oral (f receiving) p in v, slight body worshipping, porn with plot

Word count: 5.2k

A/N: i did it! i finally wrote a fic to live up to my blog name! i’m so proud of this one y’all like omg…i love it, it’s so perfect. such a cute lil fluffy smut (≧◡≦) ♡ also still can’t get over the fact that people like my little hobby, so thank you for all the love! it only encourages me to write more. speaking of which, i have so many stories for the summer coming up, especially with tom blyth coming back as billy. i already have a few stories started so hopefully they will be out sooner rather then later. ok that’s it i have nothing more to say. enjoy ❣︎

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It was your last summer before graduating college and being home made you want to cherish your last year even more. You were looking forward to it and ready to be done bartending so you could see your friends and have some real fun. Sure, this job made you a ton of cash, but being home was nothing in comparison to being with your college friends in a town totally catered to you and your fellow students. Although your hometown had its perks. At least it used to. Your longtime boyfriend had never left your hometown or went to college. He had instead opted for going into a trade and becoming an electrician.

Your relationship was strong at first, but every semester it became harder and harder to navigate. Time after time you had convinced yourself that he was still your best friend, but meeting new people in college and getting to experience the joys of youth on your own for the first time, had given you a lot of perspective. So every birthday, holiday, and summer, you felt like you were coming home to a completely different man. Yet you stayed with him because you really wanted to make it work and you told yourself you loved him. Yet something unexpected had happened. One evening at work, a group of men came in to watch the Rangers game. That’s when you first met him and that’s the night Joel Miller would become a regular at your bar.

He was clearly older, at least thirty, but you couldn’t help but practically gawk at him all night. And you couldn’t help but think that Joel was eyeing you too. But you felt a wave of guilt overcome you. You knew you shouldn’t feel like this. You knew you shouldn’t be staring down another man like that but you couldn’t help it. But his arms looked so strong, like he could carry you effortlessly. You couldn’t help the way you smiled every time he would share a boisterous laugh with his friends. His own sweet smile drew you in and you noticed he had the cutest cheek nimble on top of it. From his big chiseled nose to his perfectly crafted jawline, he was an absolute Adonis. Just then another wave of guilt washed over you and you tried to shake away your feelings of disloyalty as you walked into the kitchen, putting their food order in.

As you walked out of the kitchen and brought them their next set of drinks, you tried not to look at him so much but it’s hard not to. Then he spoke up.

“Hey darling? Could I get some more napkins when you get the chance?”

“Yeah sure!” You scurried off and came back immediately

He smiled at you as he thanked you which made your heart flutter. As you made your way back to the kitchen, another server catches up to you.

“Who’s the handsome cowboy at 13?” She asked

“Oh” you started “I’m not sure. Are you talking about the man in the white shirt?” You lied acting like she was talking about someone else

“Girl, don’t play. I can see him undressing you right now”

You glanced over, and caught him smiling at you while he sipped his beer. You started to smile back, when the guilt hit you again and you turned back to your co-worker.

“Oh…yeah…h-he is handsome yeah…but not like I’m interested.�� You lied again

“Okaaay whatever you say…” she said unconvinced, rushing off to her table

Joel and his buddies left around 9 and you noticed that Joel leaves the biggest tip out of everyone. Around 10 o’ clock you clocked out and headed to your boyfriend’s house where you had planned on spending the night. Once you arrived, you walked straight into his room where he was playing some PC game. His back was towards you and he didn’t notice you at first with his big headset on. You hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek. He startled and you jumped back.

“Woah! Hey! Your home” he remarked, clutching his chest, barely glancing at you “Jesus you scared me.”

“Clearly” you giggled

“God don’t sneak up on me like that. Could have cost me the game” he sighed, as he returned his full attention to the screen.

“What ya playing?

“COD” he remarked dryly

“Are you gonna be finishing soon?” You inquired

“Ahh probably not. I figured you’d be too tired to hang after your shift so I told the boys I’d be on tonight.”

“I thought you said we would watch a movie after work tonight?”

“Oh yeah, I mean I don’t know I just kinda figured you’d want to go to bed when you got home. Plus you fall asleep to every movie we watch together”

“Yeah” you sighed in disappointment, wanting to follow it up with “but that’s not the point.” You knew he’d get upset at you for pulling him away from his game. “I just want to cuddle you.”

“Ok ok I got ya. I’ll be in bed soon, ok.” He said halfhearted, still not looking at you.

You changed into a pair of sweat shorts and an old shirt and got ready for bed. As you climb into bed you want to cry. And you questioned your guilt from tonight. Maybe it was because it had been a while since a man seemingly flirted with you that made you realize just how lousy your boyfriend has become. When was the last time he genuinely made you feel special? You fell asleep, but were woken up by small kisses on your neck, but your boyfriend began to move more aggressively, trusting and grinning his crotch against your ass. At that point you’re too tired for sex, and all you wanted was for him to hold you and care for you.

“Mmm babe I’m really tired” you whined

“I thought you wanted attention?” He asked, continuing his actions. You pushed away slightly but he continued, only pulling you closer against his chest.

“I do, just not like this. Not right now ok? I just want to sleep.”

He sighed, turning over

“See this is why I don’t want to do a movie with you. I knew you would be too tired.”

“That’s not…” you wanted to finish your sentence again and say “that’s not fair” but once again that would probably upset him and now he was annoyed with you so you don’t want to push it. “I just want to sleep now ok.”

“Ok. It’s fine. Goodnight.” He huffed, falling asleep.

The next couple of shifts your mind is preoccupied by your newfound feelings about your relationship. Your boyfriend wasn’t abusive by any means, but it was clear the relationship wasn’t healthy anymore. That’s when the crying at work started. Mainly because you had just come from his house before each shift and every interaction with him pained you. The only thing that kept you from continuously calling off was Joel. Almost every shift around 5 o’clock he would come in, order a few beers, maybe something to eat, and chat it up with you.

By the third week, all your co-workers were teasing you about him. Whenever his truck would pull up in the parking lot, someone would come get you.

“Your cowboy is here!” Someone yelled out to you, stepping out of the kitchen. You left the servers station to greet him.

“Hey Joel! Mich Ultra? You asked

“You know it darling. How you’ve been?” He smiled, causing you to practically melt into a puddle. You gathered yourself and smiled back at him.

“About the same as the last time you saw me.”

“And still as beautiful as ever.” He winked

“You flatter me Mr. Miller. I bet Mrs. Miller is one special lady hmm?” You asked more or less trying to see if he was actually flirting with you or just being nice.

“She would if there was one.”

“Oh I thought you said you have a daughter?” You questioned more

“And a man can’t be a single dad in this world? How sexist of you” he chuckled sarcastically

You rolled your eyes at him and laughed along.

“I just thought such a handsome cowboy as yourself would have a beautiful gal to go home to.”

“I wish…” he sighed, eyes giving you a once over

“So where is she then? Your daughter? If not with her mom. You know we allowed kids in before 9 right?”

“Yeah, she just has soccer practice at this time three days a week. I figured why not wait for her to be done and come see you since I’m out and about.” He explained

“Ain’t you just a charmer.” I’ll get you that beer.”

You walk over to behind the bar and fetch Joel his beer.

“He’s just all over you” one of the bartenders remarked

“And he tips well too.”

“Gee I wonder why” they smirked, giving you a look “how does your boyfriend feel about him?”

“I mean he’s just a customer. They flirt all the time and who doesn’t like the extra cash?” You started quickly

“Mhmm sure” they said

You walk back to him, bringing him his beer and continuing to chat with him. He ordered another beer then left to go pick up his daughter Sarah.

Now every time at work shift, it felt like an escape. It also felt like a fantastic secret that only you knew about. A fantasy being played out in real life. Joel was so charming.

Even though he was older, his youthful demeanor shone through. He was caring too. If he wasn’t asking about you and your life, he was talking about his daughter. You could tell she was his world. He absolutely adored her, and you loved to listen to him go on and on about her. You didn’t quite care what your co-workers would say or how your boss didn’t like that you hovered around his table, sometimes neglecting your other ones.

But he couldn’t complain too much given Joel was a respectful, paying customer. And a great tipper. And he would always leave a little note on his receipt. Nothing too flirtatious, just innocent enough to toe the line. This went on for a couple more weeks, your boyfriend none the wiser. Not like he was paying much attention to you anymore. Every note, you would take them and make sure to hide them when you got home. You stored them in your sock drawer and kept them secret like everything else about him. You still felt guilty though and realize that you need to end things with your boyfriend. It’s harder than you thought and truthfully you don’t know how to leave someone you’ve cared about that much. And been with for so long. But talking to Joel made you realize what you needed. And what you wanted. And you wanted him. And something told you he wanted you too.

Then back at home, living with your boyfriend it was a totally different reality. He felt so disconnected from you, so indifferent. And the more you faded away from him the less you felt like you really loved him still. And he noticed you pulling away from him. One night, you came home and had kept another one of Joel’s receipts.

“See you Wednesday :) Joel”

You left your server book out on his bed, along with your purse and hopped into the shower without thinking. When you got out of the shower, your boyfriend was sitting on his gamer chair, nose deep in your server book. You froze and tightened the towel around you nervously.

“Oh hey babe. When did you get home? I thought you and the boys were having a boys night? “

“We decided to just get dinner instead. What’s this?” He asked, holding up the receipt.

“Oh, just one of my regulars. Don’t worry about it.” You giggled, trying to play it cool reaching for the book. He holds it back from you and stands up.

“Who’s Joel?”

“My regular” you repeated

“Oh yeah. I bet he tips you well hmm? Pays you lots of attention?” He asked accusatorily.

“I-he…he’s just a regular we get them all the time.”

“Yeah, but you said he is one of YOUR regulars. Why yours? Why is he writing you notes?”

“He-he just always sits in my section I don’t know. That’s not too unusual…and a lot of customers write thank you notes and stuff I can’t control them!” You insisted, readjusting your towel again

“You expect me to believe that?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes.

“Why are you acting like this?”

“Well I don’t need creepy men hitting on my girl at work.” He barked back

“He’s not creepy and you’re being ridiculous.”

“Oh then what is he?”

“He’s just a customer!” You argued even though it was a lie

From that moment on, your boyfriend had grown highly suspicious of your relationship with him and Joel. Wednesday rolled around and Joel showed up again as expected. You nervously approached him as he sat down.

“Well hey their sugar” he smiled

“Hey Joel” you replied, only giving him a half smile

He searched your face and could tell something is up.

“You ok?”

“Yeah, just life stuff. So Mich Ultra?”

He nodded and you walked off. His eyes followed you, watching you as you went to the bar. You came back and gave him his beer. You wanted to set it down and walk away, but Joel’s concerned eyes beckoned you to say.

“Thinking about food?” You asked him

“Maybe. I’m sorry doll, I don’t mean to pry but if I did anything to put you off-“

“No Joel of course it’s not you it’s just…relationship issues” you huff

“Sorry to hear that sugar. I hope y’all can work it out”

“I hope so” you sigh, knowing it’s a lie.

Just then your boyfriend storms into the bar. You don’t notice him at first, but then you hear a set of heavy footsteps approaching towards you and you look up. Confused, you call out his name.

“What are you doing here?”

“Can’t visit my girl at work anymore?” He asked glancing at Joel

“Excuse me.” You mumble to Joel, walking over to him and grabbing his hand. You lead him out of the building.

“What are you doing?!” You shouted

“Is that him? Is that Joel?” he sneered

“Why do you care all of a sudden hmm? You’ve barely paid attention to me in the last few months. What happened to us?” You nearly sobbed.

He sighed and shook his head

“What do you want from me? I mean I’m frustrated with you too if that helps. You have completely shut yourself off, don’t tell me shit! I’m upset too! Especially that I know you’re flaunting yourself around weirdo old men.”

“Stop! That’s it, I can't do this anymore. I’m so scared to tell you anything because of how you act when I share your feelings. When I come home, you ignore me and frankly it seems like you only give me affection when you want to fuck me!”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed, throwing his arms up.

“Oh my god! You over exaggerate everything. Is this why you’re acting like an attention seeker? Because you think I don’t pamper you?”

“Unbelievable. Pampering really…you know what I’m not arguing with you! I’m done! We’re done!” You shout and storm back into the back

“Done? Really like that? Four years done like that? Fine whatever, be that way, I know you don’t mean it. I’ll see you at home.” And he storms off back to his car.

You wanted to cry as you stormed back into the bar, but you held yourself together.

You tried to hide your clearly upset face as you rushed back into the kitchen and into the back alley next to the dumpsters. Joel noticed and ran out of the bar looking for you. He searched around the building then he called out to you.

“Hey. What’s wrong.”

You can’t help it. One look at him, and you ran into his arms. He embraced you, holding you tight.

“Hey my little firefly…what’s wrong?” He asked, his sweet southern drawl falling like your tears.

“I loved him Joel… why do people stop loving you back…” you sobbed

Joel gently stroked your hair, attempting to calm you down. It didn’t feel strange to be held by him. You felt safe, and comfortable in his arms, despite barely knowing him or even having any interaction with him outside of work, that moment felt right.

“I don’t know darling.” Joel sighed

You eventually gathered yourself and go back inside with him. Your boss thankfully didn’t notice your absence. Joel returned to his table and you returned to your other patrons. After his beer, Joel left and you didn’t really get a chance to see him leave. When you went to collect his tap you saw another note this time with his phone number and it read:

“Gotta go get Sarah. Call me if you need to talk”

Your heart dropped. He had finally given you his number and at the same time you still felt guilty. Even though you had, despite what your now ex-boyfriend thinks, finally ended your relationship. And here the opportunity was. Right in front of you. You look at the receipt, take it, fold it and immediately put it in your pocket to keep it safe. You clock out at ten and are all too eager to get into your car to call Joel. Once you do, you dial the number and it rings.

“Hello?”

“He-hey Joel it’s me…” you uttered

“You ok darling?” He asked sweetly

Maybe it was his voice, the question, or the fact that the weight of the burdens of your life seemed to have fallen apart around you, but you cried again. Letting it all out and at the same time feeling better than ever.

“Hey hey hey” Joel whispered “I just put Sarah to bed…why don’t you come over here? We can talk ok?”

You nodded and sobbed.

“Ok…”

Joel texted you his address and you put it into your GPS. It’s only about a ten minute drive to his house and when you pulled up, you nervously exit your vehicle. You walked up the front door and knocked quietly, not wanting to wake Sarah. A moment later, it swung open and Joel’s handsome face looked at yours with deep concern.

“Come on in.”

You nodded and walked into his home. As expected it’s much nicer than your boyfriends, but then again Joel is an actual adult, with a kid, and mortgage to pay off so it was to be slightly expected. It wasn’t too fancy, just your standard suburban home. You walked over to the couch and Joel followed you.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Honestly I need something a little strong. Got any whiskey?”

He smiled ear to ear.

“Ya betcha.” And he rushed off into his kitchen.

You made yourself comfortable and tried to relax as you looked around Joel’s living room. You curiously strode over to his bookshelf and read the titles. Lots of history books, a few fiction and then you noticed the framed photo of him and his daughter. You realize you’ve never seen a photo of her, but she’s just as beautiful as you could have imagined. You smiled and Joel caught you in your curiosity.

“She’s been my little gem since day one. Just me and her. I don’t think I ever told ya, but her mom left us so…” he remarked.

You looked at him, smiled and nodded.

“She’s beautiful, Joel. You’re a great dad.”

Joel sat the glasses of whiskey down on the shelf and reached for your hand. You gasp slightly, look at where he’s touched you and then look up into his eyes. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“You asked me why people stop loving people back and ya know, I still don’t have a good answer for that. I guess it’s because I’ve been asking myself the same thing for the last twelve years.”

“Joel…you’re such a good man…” you sighed, squeezing his hand.

“You’re too kind darling.” He smiled

“No really.”

You stared at him for a moment. His eyes searched your own looking for what he suspected you wanted from him. He cupped your face and he leaned in to kiss you. His lips fit perfectly against yours, like he was made for you. It was perfect and passionate. He was so gentle, yet you could feel how badly he had wanted this moment with you. He pulled back for a moment to make sure he hadn’t crossed the line.

“Got a bedroom?” You smirked

Before you knew it, Joel was crawling on top of you and you took off your shirt. At the same time he was busy frantically kissing your neck and jaw. He tossed it off and Joel took a moment to admire your chest. He gasped and reached to grope your breasts. Your soft, perky mounds fit perfectly in his hand and he began to massage you. He was in utter awe of you. Almost overwhelmed that he was getting to have you like this. You stared back up at him, equally in awe at that moment.

His big brown eyes melted your heart and all your troubles melted too. Fuck your lousy ex. All you wanted and needed was Joel. He kissed you again as he continued to play with your breasts. You let out a few giggles that turned into harsh, sharp moans as he moved his mouth down your body.

“Fuck…” you whispered, the word dancing around the room.

As his lips trailed you, your body reacted, your hips bucked and you were practically squirming under him. When his mouth found your cleavage, you felt the heat in between your legs grow stronger.

He continued to kiss you, only breaking away to take off his own shirt. He was toned, his skin smooth and he was unbelievably broad. You couldn’t help but admire the way his collar bone met his neckline. It was clean and sharp. You tried not to think of your ex, but in comparison he was not as fit as the gorgeous man in front of you. You placed your hands on his chest and felt his pecs, running your fingers down to his abdomen. You leaned up to kiss him again. His lips were so soft and addictive. You could’ve kissed him all night, but your desires beckoned for more. He held you up slightly and flipped you over. As he did he unhooked your bra and you let it fall off your chest. He tossed it on the ground and admired your bare chest for the first time.

“You’re so gorgeous. “ he uttered as your hair fell in front of you.

He pushed it out of the way and cupped your face. He pulled you back down to capture your mouth once again, lightly gripping the back of your neck. Your bare boobs pressed down against his chest, a feeling which you love. Skin on skin, the close intimacy and the feeling of being wanted more than just something to fuck. That’s how your ex had made you feel the last few months when you and him had sex, so being touched, cherished by Joel made your head spin. You weren’t used to it and you could feel your body reacting to the unfamiliar sensations. Joel noticed.

“Baby, you ok?”

You blushed at the nickname, smiled and nodded.

“It’s just been some time since I felt like this.”

“When’s the last time he touched you?”

“I-I mean we would have sex once or twice a week…”

“When is the last time he really touched you though. Made you feel special?”

You simply stared at him speechless and tilted your head.

“You know what, forget about him. Just focus on me. Let me make you feel good like you deserve.”

With that, he decided to be bold and reached for your mini skirt. He pulled it down past your hips and you lifted them up so he could pull it off you. He tossed it on the ground with your bra and his hands immediately moved to cup your ass. He squeezed the pillowy flesh as you moved your hips. You could feel him getting hard under you and you eagerly reached for his belt. His hands moved up to your waist, rocking you more. You undo his belt and he lifted up his hips to take off his pants. He slid them off along with his boxers, revealing his length. It was perfect. Just the right size, the mushroom tip red and swollen. Encouraged by his actions, you slide your panties off and you are both completely bare in front of each other.

He soaked the sight of your naked beauty in, eyes trailed over all your curves and edges. You were simply divine to him, a work of art. He runs his hands back up to your chest, briefly groping them, his eyes completely focused on your face. You grab his cock and began slowly stroking it. His mouth drops slightly as he watched you. He tilted his head back on the pillow briefly, before he looked back up to watch you. His breathing became ragged and you picked up your pace. You start to move on top of him, guiding his cock to your entrance, but he stops you.

“Let me get you wet.” He insisted, grabbing your hips and flipping you again. Immediately, he kissed down your body, worshiping you. “You’re so perfect. If you were my girl I’d never stop showing you how perfect you are.” He muttered in between kisses.

He kissed your inner thigh before he experimentally rubbed your clit. You gasped, your hips bucked in his face. He smirked at your reaction, loving how you responded to his touch. Taking that as a sign you wanted more, he gently kissed your slit. He gave you another one and another one until the little pecks of his lips turned into the sloppy mess of his tongue. It had been ages since a man had gone down on you like this. Your ex-never warmed you up beforehand anymore, too eager to satisfy his own desire and pleasure. Joel knew how to be a real man. His tongue and lips suck and rub at your core. He moved his head too, adding to the friction. You reached for his brown locks, desperately in need of something to hold onto. He hung onto your hips and he moved you against his face. He moaned against your core, eating you out like you were the most delicious meal of his life. He pulled back, out of breath and drunk in your juices.

“Could taste ya all day darling.”

You nodded as he inserted a finger in you, twisting it. He slowly pumped it into you, curling it up as he added another finger. He watched as your face scrunched up in pleasure. He sped his hand up, totally focused on getting you to finish.

“Joel…Joel…Joel…” you chanted “Gonna cum”

He nodded and worked you a bit more until you tightened down around his digits. You came hard, the euphoria rushed through your body like a roller coaster.

“So beautiful oh my god.” He praised, rubbing your thighs.

He crawled back up to you. He kissed you letting you taste yourself. You hadn’t felt this kind of passion in a while, this intense feeling of intimacy.

“You ready? He asked, slowly rubbing your clit again.

You nodded as he lined himself up with your slit. You felt as his cock pushed past your folds and stretched you out perfectly. You gasped and he kissed your cheek feather light. He cooed at you as he slid in, hitting the back of your cervix. You gasped, which turned into a raspy moan that floated from your lips. Joel cupped your face, stroking his thumb across your cheek. You two shared in the silence of your pleasure for a moment, taking in how good the other felt. He moved, slow at first then he sped up. He felt so full inside you, and you lost yourself in the sensation of his length. You could have stayed like that all night, the steady motion of his cock pumping into you was pure bliss.

“Does that feel good?” Joel inquired lovingly

“Yes, please Joel I want more. I need more of you.”

Per your request, he gave you more, slightly giving into his own desires to want to ravish you. But given it’s your first time with him, Joel didn’t want a sloppy, lustful encounter. Yet, he picked up his speed, his length now hitting the back of your walls at an almost brutal pace. Joel makes sure to keep checking in on you to make sure you’re okay or that it doesn’t hurt too much. You panted and panted as he continued, gripping onto his waist with your legs, pushing him deeper into you. He moved a bit more then flipped over. You smiled at him, slightly out of breath.

“I want to see that beautiful body riding me. Is that ok?”

You nod enthusiastically, slowly starting to move your hips. Joel’s hands groped your ass, rocking you on him more. He sat up, pressed his lips firmly against yours and held you tight. You started to bounce on him which elicited a guttural moan from his lips. He moved his hand to your hips, looking up at you in awe.

How could anyone not treat you like the absolute treasure you are?

Joel thought and wondered to himself as he held you. He couldn’t believe that your ex-boyfriend would neglect you. What a foolish man, but now he had you. In the exact moment he had imagined. He had you. He moved his hips in sync with yours. You steadied yourself on his shoulders, ecstasy, providing you escape. Your breath hitched as you feel his cock stiffen more inside you. He was close. You didn’t want it to end but then again you had a feeling this wouldn’t be your last encounter with Joel. A few last rocks of your hips and he was spent. He pulled you off him abruptly as he shot his load onto his stomach. You caught your breath, resting your forehead against his. You held his jaw in your hands, settling your hips.

“Joel…” you whispered, the words ghosting over your lips.

“Yes darling..” he whispered back

“Y-you have no idea how much I wanted you like this.”

“I know. Me too, but not just like this. I want you. All of you. Can I please have it?” He nearly begged

Your enthusiasm took over you and you planted a spontaneous kiss on his lips.

“Yes Joel…you can have all of me.”

꧁✩★✩꧂

1K notes · View notes

javierpena-inatacvest · 9 months

Text

Agent Peña

Summary: You and Javi are unpacking as you move into your new house, when you come across something unusual in one of the boxes. Surprise, it's Javi's old tac vest, and boy, do you need to show him how good he still looks in it.

Word Count: 5.3K (I'm surprised it's not longer, I could write a thesis about this vest)

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no used of y/n, reader's nickname is Osita)

Warnings: SMUT (18+) BOY OH BOY- unprotected p in v sex (be better pls), oral (m receiving), face fucking, mastrubation (f), big ole praise kink, creampie, cum play (ig??), soft dom!Javi (still being our consent king as always), Javi lifts reader up on the dresser and holds her hair, Javi's got a FILTHY mouth, THE VEST STAYS ON LADIES AND GENTS (gn)

A/N: ....Well.... Here we are. This idea has been rotting in the back of my brain for SO long, and I am finally ready to serve my time in horny jail 🫡 As y'all know, Javi's tac vest is deeply important to me, and it only feels right to support my namesake as such by sharing my deeply dirty thoughts of getting absolutely obliterated by this man in that stupid fucking vest. If you know me, no you DON'T, please do not make eye contact with me for the next 7-10 business days. 🤪

This can be read as a stand alone, or as a part of the It's Never Too Late Series!!

“Are you sure this is the last box?”

“Yes, Hermosa, I’m positive.”

“Well, that was your answer 3 boxes ago, Jav.”

You laughed to yourself, hauling what was supposedly the last cardboard box out of the back of Javi’s truck as you followed behind him into your new house. Your official move in day had finally come, and while you and Javi had been periodically transporting things from your apartment to the new house since it had been finished with construction, today was the last day on your lease, and the first day of your forever in your new home together. While you couldn't have been more excited to finally be in a real home of your own with Javi, you were much less excited about the 47 trips you had made in and out of the house, hauling boxes to and from Javi’s truck, and unpacking your entire existence into your new living space.

You let out a little grunt as you set down the box into the mountain-like pile that had accumulated in your living room, Javi sneaking up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist as he planted a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“You promise this was the last one?” You giggled, your voice oozing with sarcasm as you gave Javi a playful nudge while he held you in his grasp.

“Promise.” He laughed, giving you a squeeze, only making you squeal and squirm even more. “Hopefully unpacking shouldn’t take too long, I’ll start moving the heavier shit upstairs and in the garage, and I’ll come help you down here when I’m done.”

“What, are you saying I'm not strong enough to carry the heavy boxes? Rude.” You teased, spinning around to face him, crossing your arms over your chest, one eyebrow raised.

“You know that’s not what I’m trying to say, you dork.” Javi sighed, rolling his eyes at your utter lack of seriousness in response to his comment.

“I don’t know… Sure seems like it to me… I just don’t think that- HEY! PUT ME DOWN! STOP, STOP, YOU MEANIE!” You screeched, flapping your arms in hysterical laughter as Javi slung you over his shoulder, trapping you in the only way he’d figured out how to get you to stop with your never ending sass- tickling you until you were close to tears. “Fine, I- Javi! Stop! You win! You win! Let me go, you butt!”

“Did you just call me a butt?” He snorted, setting you back down on the ground, smirking at the goofy grin on your face as you tried to recompose yourself, post tickle torture.

“I would have come up with a better insult if I wasn’t close to almost peeing my pants.” You grumbled, sticking your tongue out at Javi, the two of you trying your best to keep from bursting into laughter again.

“Will you just go start unpacking, weirdo? The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can go break in the new bed.” He smirked, biting down on his lip, his eyes looking you up and down with a mischievous sparkle.

“Oooorrrrrr… We could just go break it in now and unpack later?” You shrugged, placing your hands on Javi’s chest, grabbing a fist full of the soft cotton of his worn t-shirt as you pressed up on your tiptoes and placed a kiss on his pouty lip.

“As much as I want to,” He paused, pressing his lips back into yours, feeling the smile of his smug grin, “If we go now, there’s no way all of this is ever getting unpacked.”

“Ugh, fine. You win again, Mr. Reasonable.” You frowned, giving him one last quick kiss before pulling away to search through the endless sea of cardboard to sort where each box needed to go. You reached down, hoisting up one labeled “bedroom” and resting it on your hip, pointing to the scratchy scribbles of Javi’s handwriting. “Look! I’m already going to the bedroom, soooooo…”

“Osita…”

“Fine, fine. You better move those boxes fast. Rude to keep your wife waiting like this, ya know.”

“Will you please just go unpack, Hermosa?” He sighed, laughing and shaking his head, hiking up two boxes, heavy enough to make his biceps flex and the veins in his forearms incredibly noticeable. You could almost hear yourself audibly gulp as you watched him walk up the stairs, the muscles of his back flexing and straining deliciously against the gray cotton of his t-shirt.

“Jesus fucking Christ…” You muttered to yourself, in awe of your husband’s sheer broadness. So in awe, in fact, that you hadn’t even realized you had let your box slip from its place resting against your hip onto the living room floor, making you jump and startle yourself, scrambling to try and pick it back up in hopes that Javi hadn’t noticed.

“You okay, baby?” Javi shouted from halfway up the stairs, peeking his head over the railing to see what had happened.

“Yup, yup, totallyyyyy fine, all good, just going to unpack, nothing to see here.” You mumbled, darting down the hallway, eyes peeled in whatever direction was the exact opposite of Javi.

Oof. You better find a way to become the world’s fastest unpacker.

Thankfully, you and Javi seemed to make an unspoken pact to unpack in separate parts of the house to avoid distracting each other, Javi now working on organizing things in the garage while you worked on sorting all of the things that belonged in your master bedroom. Clothes and sheets had been easy to put away compared to all of the pots and pans you had unboxed in the kitchen before this, working your best to put things away as fast as you could with keeping the metal clashing and clanging to a minimum.

As you dragged the last box labeled “Master Bedroom” into your room from the hallway, you were curious what kind of contents could be inside, considering you’d put away all of yours and Javi’s clothes, and whatever bedding belonged in your room. You spun the box around to each side, looking for any more clues, until your last turn, where you found “Javi DEA” printed on the upper corner.

You paused for a moment, letting your fingers drum across the tattered cardboard, questioning whether or not you should leave it for Javi to deal with, or open it up for yourself. You gently chewed on your bottom lip as you internally debated, trying to rationalize with yourself before quite literally opening up a box into Javi’s past.

You had heard about the good, bad and ugly that had been Javi’s life in Colombia before returning home to Laredo, so you would be shocked to find something in this box that Javi really didn’t want you to see.

It’s not like there was anything he’d be trying to hide from you in there, right? Probably just a bunch of badges and paperwork, anyways.

With a little sigh and a shrug, you carefully ripped down the seam of the tape holding the box together, slowly lifting the cardboard flaps to reveal the contents inside. As you peeked into the box, you let out a little huff of relief to find out that your suspicions were correct- nothing but file folders, old badges and ancient coffee mugs with DEA symbols slapped across the front.

You began making your way through the box, sorting its contents into piles for Javi to go through once he was finished in the garage. Even though majority of the items inside the DEA box were less than thrilling (unless you had a thing for reading 50 page long contracts full of legal jargon), you did get a kick out of Javi’s old badges, giggling at his grumpy frown that seemed to be plastered across his face in every picture he took from the time he started, until he retired. What cracked you up even more was finding the badges from the first few years Javi must have started working for the DEA, still sporting his signature pout, but with a clean shaven baby face you had only had the pleasure of seeing from the photo albums of Javi's youth that his father, Chucho, had so lovingly offered to share with you.

You gave the picture a sweet smile before setting it down with the rest of the badges in the growing pile, mindlessly reaching back into the box to pull out what you assumed would be more file folders full of paperwork. Except this time, you felt your fingertips graze against what felt like tough and worn fabric, dragging your hand further along the cloth until hitting a patch of scratchy velcro, making you cock your head in confusion. You scooted yourself over closer to the box, peering under the few manilla folders left inside to spot an army green strap popping out from in between them.

Now very much intrigued, you dug your hand between the sea of papers, yanking on the mystery item to reveal a deep olive green vest, followed by a few crinkled pictures that must have been stuck inside it, gently fluttering to the floor in front of you. You set down the much heavier than expected vest to pick up one of the photos face down on the carpet, only to turn it over and feel your jaw practically drop to the floor and eyes bulge out of your skull. Because in that picture, was not just any photo of Javi from his time in Colombia, this was a photo of Javi, in the very vest that you had dug out from the bottom of his box.

And holy fuck did he look hot.

Frantically, you picked up another photo that had fallen to the floor, feeling your heart legitimately skip a beat to find it was another shot of him in the vest, his dark curls sticking to his forehead from the sweat soaking his skin and the light blue button down underneath it, hands resting on the hips of his dark gray khaki pants that left very little to the imagination. You flipped over one last picture, only to find the same, breathtaking visual of him in that damn vest, his biceps straining against the sweat-stained cotton of his army green shirt, the veins in his forearms prominently on display as he held the gun he was carrying pointed at the ground.

While you had never seen these photos, or even known about this mystery vest until today, there was a part of you that was glad you hadn’t- the way Javi looked suited up in that vest had your head reeling in a way you weren’t sure you’d ever recover from, because Jesus Fucking Christ, it was the hottest goddamn thing you’d ever seen.

Your eyes darted back and forth between the three photos, each picture somehow looking better than the last every time you found a new detail to drink in that made Javi look even more delicious.

Holy fuck.

You couldn’t help but let your mind wander even further than it already was, picturing what Javi would look like with it on now, the broadness of his shoulders filling out the vest even more than he would have the last time he wore it.

You were so entranced, so lost in ogling at how attractive Javi looked in the vest, that you hadn’t noticed the sound his familiar footsteps trudging down the hallway, stopping in the doorway of your bedroom and watching you as you sat cross legged on the floor, hunched over the now nearly empty box.

“Hey, Hermosa, I’m almost all done in the garage if you wanna-” Javi’s voice quietly trailed off as his eyes wandered, looking at the items from inside the box spread across the floor, stopping at the long forgotten sight of his old tac vest propped up against the cardboard.

He couldn’t help but quietly laugh to himself, simply out of shock that you had even found the vest in the first place, considering he hadn’t even remembered it had been living inside a box that hadn’t been touched since it was shipped back to Laredo with the rest of his things post DEA.

“Where the hell’d you find this? I haven’t seen this thing in fucking years.” He chuckled, reaching down to pick up the well worn armor, letting his thumb run along the seams of the rough fabric as he held it up in front of him, blocking your blushing and bright red face from his view.

“It was uh- it was at the bottom of the box.” You gulped, trying not to stumble over your words, biting down on your tongue to try and keep your embarrassingly sheepish smirk at bay, Javi’s eyes now meeting yours as he lowered the vest from his view. He tilted his head in confusion at your clearly flustered state, reaching out his free hand to gently grab your arm, rubbing his thumb back and forth across your skin, his touch only making you more riled up.

“Hermosa, are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m- yes, I’m- I’m fine, it’s stupid.” You muttered, making no attempts to cover up your clearly blatant lie, darting your eyes away from Javi and shifting your gaze to the floor to try and hide your hot, flushed face, embarrassed that you were this worked up from 3 old photos and a piece of police gear.

But unfortunately for you, Javi knew you like the back of his hand, and knew all too well when you weren’t telling him something that was on your mind.

Letting his hand slide up your arm and across your collarbone, he stopped at your chin, forcing your gaze back on him, giving you a smug shrug and raise of his eyebrows, silently waiting for your real response, the one he knew you were hiding behind your bashful facade.

“What’s going on, baby?”

With your eyes locked on his, thumb resting under your jaw, you had no choice but to swallow your own pride, the sweet dark brown of his glare coaxing your sheepish secret right out of you.

“There were- there were pictures of you in the vest in the box. You look- Jesus, Javi, you look really fucking hot.”

“That’s it?” He laughed, softly swiping his thumb across your cheek, still feeling like he hadn’t quite gotten everything out of you.

“Well I was thinking... that uh- if- what-”

“What, baby? Talk to me, it’s okay.”

Oh, fuck me.

“Would you, um, would- would you put it on?”

“Put it on?” He chuckled, lifting up the vest, gesturing towards it.

“Mhhmmmm.” You nodded, letting your tongue run against your teeth before biting down on your bottom lip, feeling a rush of heat rapidly creeping through your body.

“Like, right now?”

“Like, right now.”

Realizing that you were completely serious about your request, Javi let out a playful scoff, running his hand over the back of his neck, almost as flustered by your ask as you were at the thought alone of seeing him in his vest.

“Really? I mean, uh- yeah, okay.” Working in a quick and determined silence, Javi began slipping the vest over his head, pulling it over his broad shoulders and unfastening the velcro sides before readjusting them, tugging the flaps tighter against his stomach to hold them in place, quietly grumbling to himself. “Used to be able to pull these a lot tighter…” He groaned, flattening the last strap against the velcro.

As his focused shifted from his vest to you, he couldn’t help but smirk at the dumbfounded look on your face- the image in front of you leaving you so completely stunned, you felt like you needed to wipe the corner of your mouth to make sure that there wasn’t any drool coming out of it. Your brain was so short circuited, at a loss to form any sort of coherent sentence, the best you could muster out was a low, shaky, “Holy fucking shit.”

“Didn’t know you had a thing for tactical vests.” Javi grinned with a devilish look slowing spreading across his face, seeing the complete and utter mess you were becoming as he slowly stepped towards you, the looming image of his broad body in that fucking vest making your heart race and your palms sweat.

“Well, I- I didn’t, um, I didn’t-” You stammered, your breath trembling as you tried to respond, your brain going blank as you watched Javi approach you. Before you had a chance to even try to and concoct some sort of answer, Javi’s hand was back under your chin, fingers wrapped around your jaw with a much tighter and demanding presence than just a few moments ago, sensing the undeniable shift of palpable tension in the room.

“Didn’t what? Use your words, sweet girl.” He rasped, teasing you with his knowingly smug smirk, his words shooting straight to your core, making your stomach flip in anxious arousal.

You could feel your words bobbing in your throat as you swallowed, your tongue darting out of your parted mouth, desperate to taste Javi’s lips now barely ghosting yours, patiently waiting for your response, relishing in the needy mess he could sense you were quickly becoming.

“Didn’t realize it until I saw you in it. You look- fuck- you look so hot.” You whispered, feeling his warm breath against your skin as he sucked at your pulse point, his teeth nipping at your neck as a ragged moan escaped your mouth. “Javi…”

“Not gonna give you what you want 'till you tell me. I wanna hear you say it. Tell me what you want.” You could practically feel his satisfied smirk as his kisses worked their way down your neck towards your chest, each press of his lips taunting you, only making it harder and harder for any part of your brain to function.

“I wanna- fuck- I wanna suck your dick. Fuck, I need to taste you.” You whimpered, reaching out to run your hand across his vest, letting it trail from his chest, down to his stomach, your fingertips grazing his belt buckle before a firm grasp wrapped around your wrist, holding your hand in place and stopping it from traveling any further.

“Nuh-uh.” Javi tutted, rasping in your ear. “Be a good girl and ask first. Tell me how badly you need it.”

“Please, Javi. Fuck, please let me suck your dick, baby. Please.” You moaned, sounding more desperate than you had intended, but fuck, there was nothing you wanted to do more than drop to your knees and worship him in the most sinful way you could.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking pretty when you beg for it. You need me that bad, Hermosa?” Javi grinned, feeling you nod your head frantically, the hand he was holding in his grasp reaching for below his belt. “Okay, baby, show me how bad you need me, huh?”

In an instant, you were dragging your hands down his vest, sinking to the ground as you frantically worked to undo his belt buckle, the quiet clang of the metal singing a song of sweet relief as you shuffled his pants down his legs before hooking your fingers around the elastic waistband of his boxers, tugging them down to meet his pants. pooling around his ankles. His cock sprung free as it was released, already painfully hard and weeping with precum as it slapped against his stomach, the sight alone making you lick your lips. You kissed the inside of his thighs, trailing your way up to his shaft in long, languid movements, dragging your tongue back and forth along the underside of his cock before sinking just his tip between your lips, swirling it in your mouth.

You had barely touched him, but you were already so worked up that what had started as just a wet patch in your underwear had now turned into the fabric becoming completely soaked in your slick, leaving your cunt aching and throbbing. With your mouth still sucking and flicking at his tip, you couldn’t help but let your hand snake down your front, sneaking between your skin and the waistband of your pants as it dipped into your underwear. You let your fingers slide through your folds, before sinking them into your heat, your hips instinctively grinding down on your hand to find any sort of temporary relief as you fucked yourself with your fingers.

Looking up at him with batted lashes, you sunk your mouth deeper down on his length, hollowing your cheeks as you took him inch by inch, watching his eyes go wide as you took the hand that had just been inside your pants back out to reveal the shiny slick covering your fingers, then wrapping them around his base, covering his shaft in your arousal.

It was taking everything in him just to say fuck it right then and there, to toss you onto the bed and fuck you until you were begging him to stop, but watching the way you worked around his cock so needily had him so stunned, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but let you work your magic.

“Jesus, fuck…” Javi muttered to himself, already feeling his balls beginning to tighten as your head bobbed along his dick, sinking down just enough to let the deep, musky scent of the curls at the base of his shaft tickle your nostrils.

It wasn’t long before his hand was buried deep in your hair, his fingers cradling the back of your head as his hips began to buck towards your face, trying to hold himself back from full-on fucking your throat, until your fingers wrapped around the back of his thighs, bracing yourself as you gave Javi your silent nod of approval to keep going. Letting a low groan rumble in his chest, his second hand met the one already palming the back of your head, guiding you up and down his cock as he thrust deeper into your throat, tears welling in your eyes and saliva spilling out the corners of your mouth. His tip brushed against your gag reflex, making you dig your fingertips further and further into his skin.

“Oh fuck- this what you wanted, Quierda? To get on your knees and let me- shit, shit, shit- fuck that pretty little mouth of yours like the good girl you are?” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, trying to keep himself together as he watched his length slide in and out of your mouth, tempted to let himself go and spill deep down your throat, watching his spend drip down your lips. But he knew he’d be kicking himself if he wasn’t finishing buried in the depths of your cunt, your warm, wet walls milking him of every last drop, clenching around him as you came.

That was enough to pull him back to his senses, guiding his dick out of your mouth, the two of you catching your breath as you wiped your hand with the back of your mouth in confusion, wondering what had made him back off so quickly.

“Javi, are you okay? Did I do something wr-oh!” You gasped, stumbling as Javi forcefully pulled you to your feet, manhandling you towards your dresser, your mouths becoming a mess of tangled tongues and teeth as your back bumped against the wooden edge. Javi’s hands were under your legs, grabbing you and hosting you up to sit on top of it, ripping your pants and underwear down off your hips and tossing them to the floor.

“I need to be inside you. Fuck, I need to feel you when I fuck you full of me.” He mewled, reaching down to stroke himself as he lined his dick up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds, coating it even more in your slick before sinking himself deep into your pussy, flushing his hips against you as his cock bumped against your cervix. Even though you were already soaking wet, you couldn’t help but whimper at the sweet sting of how full Javi’s stretch made you feel, gripping around the shoulder straps of his tac vest for dear life as he began to thrust in and out of you, already setting a punishing, desperate pace.

You wrapped your legs around the small of his back just under his vest, whimpering and moaning into his shoulder as your buried your face in the crook of his neck the lewd noises of muted moans and slapping skin filling the room as Javi punched into you, his cock splitting you open in the best way possible.

“Javi, oh fuck baby, fuck, you feel so good, oh shit-” You whined, your brain going blank, babbling between moans, already feeling a tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine while Javi’s hands gripped around your hips, holding you in place as he fucked into you hard and deep. Your cunt was starting to clench around his cock, pounding into that sweet spot inside you that had you seeing stars and screaming his name as you could feel yourself coming undone around him.

Rutting your hips against him, the hairs at his base rubbed your clit, the friction giving you just enough stimulation to send you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you with a ferocious intensity, flooding every inch of your body with pleasure.

“That’s it. Give it to me, Hermosa. Fuck- cum all over me baby girl.” Javi hissed through gritted teeth, his words humming deep in his throat as he fucked you through your high, his hands holding you in place as you melted into him, your body going limp as you came. “You gonna give me another one, Querida? Be a good girl and give me one more before I fuck you so full of me, I’ll be dripping out of you for days.”

You were so lost in your pleasure, you couldn’t find any words, simply nodding your head as you moaned into his neck, only starting to come to when you suddenly felt an emptiness in your cunt, Javi pulling out to scoot you off the dresser, guiding your feet to the floor as he turned you over, splaying your chest across the wooden surface and pinning your arms behind your back. Gently nudging your feet wider, you could feel his broad body looming over yours, his hot breath dancing across your neck as he nibbled at your ear.

“You still okay, Osita?”

“Mhmmmm” You whimpered, your body trembling as Javi’s hands ran across your hips, feeling his hard length pressed against your ass, wiggling your bottom half against him, desperate for him to ease the emptiness between your legs again.

“Lemme hear you say it, baby. Tell me how bad you need it.” Javi grunted, now dragging his cock through your folds, teasing your dripping entrance, waiting painfully patiently for your response.

“I need it so bad, Javi, please, please baby.” You moaned, rolling your hips and pushing your ass back on him, doing anything to try and feel him inside you again.

“My needy girl. Shhhhh, it’s okay baby, I’ve got you.” Javi smirked, flushing his hips against your ass as he bottomed out inside you, the fullness making you cry out in pleasure.

He slowly began thrusting in and out of you, dragging his cock along your heat, each stroke punching against your g-spot, so wet that you could hear each rut of his hips as he buried himself deeper and deeper into your hilt.

You were so blissed out, barely hanging by a thread as you felt heat beginning to bloom in your belly once again, that you were resting your head against the dresser, closing your eyes as you felt yourself coming undone. That was until Javi’s firm grasp shifted from pinning your hands behind your back to sliding up your neck, resting his hand under your jaw and forcing your gaze into the mirror on top of your dresser.

Your eyes locked with Javi’s, the reflection of him in his vest towering behind you as he thrusted into you over and over, watching the brown pools of his eyes darken with lust as he watched you slowly begin to come undone under him.

“Eyes on me, baby. Wanna see that pretty face when you cum all over me.”

The image of him was all consuming- His wide shoulders spilling from the sides of the vest, his dark, damp curls sticking to his forehead from the sheen of his sweat that had begun to pool in his brow, the wrecked look painted across his face making you weaker and weaker as you could feel the heat creeping up your legs and through your core.

Reaching back, you grabbed on to the side of his vest, burying your fingers into the thick fabric for dear life as his pace began to quicken, his thrusts becoming faster and sloppier with each snaps of his hips as he felt your pussy fluttering around his length, watching you turn into a puddle below him.

“I know you’re close, baby. C’mon Hermosa, oh shit- give it to me.” Javi grunted, letting his hand drop from your jaw to snake down your body, the pads of his fingers circling your clit with just enough force to have you screaming his name, clenching your cunt around his cock as you came.

“Javi, Javi, oh fuck, fuck, fuck-” You babbled, your eyes practically rolling in the back of your head as Javi began to follow suit, rambling incoherently, chasing his own high.

“I know, baby, I know. Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well. Fuck, oh shit- I’m close, too. Oh, fuck me- Jesus Christ, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh-” With only a few more thrusts, Javi was spilling inside you, his spend pulsing against your walls as he milked himself of every drop he had, his body slumping over yours as your chests rose and fell in sync, trying to catch your breath.

Your legs trembled as the warm mix of your spend trailed down your thighs, only to be caught by his fingers, slowly dragging your combined arousal back up your skin before taking it and pushing it back into your entrance, languidly pulsing his digits in and out of your dripping hole, making a ragged moan fall from your lips as he nipped at your neck, softly sucking at your pulse point.

“Gonna keep you full of me all night, sweet girl, all fucking night.”

“Holy fuck…” You whined, finally catching your breath enough to speak before pushing yourself back up to stand, turning around to grab Javi’s face, pulling him in for an electric, passionate kiss before letting your hands rest on the worn army green of his vest, quietly laughing to yourself in disbelief. “Jesus fucking Christ, Javi.”

“You okay, Osita? Sorry if I got carried away, I just- fuck, seeing how worked up you were, I-”

“Javier Jesús Peña, you better not be apologizing to me for being the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in that goddamn vest. I swear to God, I’m never letting you take that thing off. Well… On second thought, if you don’t take it off I don’t think I will ever be productive ever again because holy shit.”

The two of you couldn’t help but laugh to yourselves as Javi wrapped his arms around your waist, his thumbs tracing soft circles against the bare skin of your hips, looking out at the scattered sea of pants and underwear on the floor that had been quickly left behind during your horny antics.

“Well, if you let me take it off,” Javi grinned, pressing a chast kiss on your cheek and then peppering them towards your lips, “then we can go take a shower to clean up,” he paused again, feeling his smile against your mouth, “we can go break in the bed, and I can return your little favor from earlier since someone was too eager to get dicked down to let me.”

“Oh, shut up, can you blame me? Don’t have to ask me twice.” You giggled, raising a playful eyebrow at Javi. “Just promise me one thing, okay?”

“Of course, Hermosa. Anything.”

“Don’t you ever get rid of that fucking vest, Agent Peña.”

Taglist:

@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem

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samuraiko · 5 months

Text

CR's BEACON and a bit about it

So of course I had to get in on this because I'm all for discounts and early access and NOT giving money to Twitch and YT if I can help it.

And yes, the site is getting SLAMMED at the moment, but I've now managed to get in, and it's working great.

Couple notes:

If you have the same email address for the CR shop and for Beacon, once your Beacon account is created, it auto-applies the discount to the shop. You will see the price crossed out and a discounted price next to the item (limitations do apply, they go over that).

I gather there is some wonkiness going on with the Discord, so I'd suggest waiting a day or so on that one.

Cooldown (the immediate after-show filming) IS WORTH ITS WEIGHT IN GOLD. Listening to them conspiracy theorizing and Matt answering a couple things (or in more cases, "You don't know!") is just great to watch.

Yes, there is subtitles/captioning, and it looks like it's done by the same folks they have doing the main eps.

Re-Slayer's Take is *NOT* the main cast -- it is run and played by other people. I gather this is in a similar vein to Midst, but them allowing other groups to "play" in Exandria. It is also all-ages-friendly.

There is an app in the Apple store and Android store -- IT IS CALLED POCKET BEACON. HOW FUNNY IS THAT?!

http://beacon.tv

UPDATE: I've seen a couple of Twitter posts about the app possibly being geolocked -- cannot confirm or deny as I live in the United States and thus cannot check (and am reluctant to dick around with my phone).

UPDATE: Someone brought up in the replies that captioning/subtitling is not yet on everything, and in a couple cases, it's a bit wonky. Again, hopefully to be straightened out sooner than later.

UPDATE: Someone else in the replies wondered about whether coming in on a live broadcast late means you can still start from the beginning or not.. IF SOMEONE CAN CONFIRM OR DENY THIS WITH TONIGHT'S BROADCAST, DROP ME AN ASK AND LEMME KNOW, PLEASE!

I'll add more to this post as I encounter things!

STILL MORE UPDATES!

you can join late and start at the beginning, it looks like they upload the whole episode rather than doing a live broadcast.

however, it DOES NOT have subtitles, though the speed and quality can be adjusted.

there is also no break material, just a quick fade in and fade out.

also no ads

AND STILL MORE UPDATES!

In a rare non-Apple access win, can confirm that Pocket Beacon does not appear to be geolocked for Android, at least here in Australia!

EVEN MORE UPDATES!

Re: captioning, 4-Sided Dive does not appear to be captioned/subtitled (yet).

THE UPDATES KEEP ON COMING!

The Android version does appear to support Chromecast

#critical role #beacon #beacon tv

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wososcripts · 4 months

Text

Face to Face (IV)

Fridolina Rolfö x reader

Summary: An attempt to make amends.

A/N: we're nearing the end!! not sure how I feel about this part... hopefully it's okay

Word Count: 3k

Warnings ⚠️: none?

PREVIOUS PART

The next few days followed in a similar manner. Alexia brought you to the pitch even though you couldn't play, and you sat there for a few hours until they were done. Occasionally Jona would come over to see you, or Olga would stop by with food. Ana Maria even drove over from Madrid to see you and take you out for the day. But mostly you slept, listened to podcasts, and thought about what the hell you were going to do about Frido.

She still hadn't spoken to you and the team was starting to notice. It's not like the two of you were very close before (at least publicly) but now it was a conscious avoidance. The rest of the girls often kept you company when they could on breaks or in between drills.

It was only after five days, on Friday afternoon, that she approached you.

“Hi…” Frido said softly.

You looked up at her from where you sat on the pitch. You had been doing light stretches on your calves, still not allowed to do anything strenuous until next week.

“Hi, Frido.” You said plainly.

You tried not to react emotionally despite the fact that this was the first time she was speaking to you since the incident. She hadn’t even called to say she was sorry. It all seemed to confirm she really didn’t give a damn about you—didn’t have the courtesy to treat you like a stranger even.

“How are you feeling?”

Her careful, soft tone enraged you.

“Not so good, actually. My head fucking hurts, I’m sick of sitting here while the rest of you play. And I’d really rather be doing anything than talking to you.”

You felt bad the second you said it. Not because she didn’t deserve it, but because this wasn’t you. You were better than that.

“Sorry, I just really would like to be left alone, Frido. Please, just leave me be. Leave me alone.”

Frido’s eyes shot towards the ground as she blinked furiously.

“Okay.”

She turned away and walked back to the field, joining Alexia and Ingrid as they talked about something. Part of you felt bad for rejecting her so quickly, but another part of you felt enraged that she had the nerve to wait this long.

Ingrid looked over at you and then back at Frido curiously.

"What did you want to say to her?" She asked in Norwegian, knowing Frido would understand.

"I don't know… just wanted to check in on how she's doing so far."

Before Ingrid could reply again, Alexia butted in.

"You need to tell her you're sorry as soon as possible."

"I just tried—clearly she isn't too keen on having me around, is she?" Frido snapped back.

The three of them stood in shock for a second, surprised at Frido’s temper. Usually she was level headed and understanding.

Alexia sighed and clapped her on the shoulder.

"Keep trying."

With that she was off to change and shower, giving Ingrid a small smile as she left.

"Frido," Ingrid rubbed her arm to catch her attention. "Why don't we go get a drink tonight and catch up? It's been a long time since we went out, just us."

Frido contemplated it momentarily, not stupid enough to miss that Ingrid clearly wanted to talk about her mood. If she accepted, she was also accepting the fact that she had to open up to her best friend sooner or later.

"All right."

"I don't know what to do," Frido complained, tossing back the last dregs of her beer.

Ingrid sat across from her, her own beer nearly untouched. They were sat out on the balcony of some restaurant nursing the end of the night. They hadn't met, just the two of them, in a while, Frido realized. She wished it was under better circumstances.

"Can I be honest?" Ingrid asked.

Frido nodded. She expected no less from the Norwegian—though she was incredibly kind, it wasn't common for them to sugar coat things.

"You've got to go up to her and apologize. Sincerely. One on one. And you can't be sure she's going to forgive you."

Frido knew Ingrid was talking about apologizing for more than the tackle. She wasn't privy to exactly what happened between the two of you—even in your anger you hadn't told your teammates what was going on—but it was clear something unhealthy had been a staple between the two of you.

"Mapí showed me the video. I didn't want to see it at first, you know how I am with that stuff, so worried always that it'll be one of us. But I finally saw it." Ingrid met her eyes. "The way she went down, the way you hit her, she could've been hurt much worse than she is. And you just got up and left, didn't even check on her."

There was a hint of disdain in Ingrid’s voice that inspired nausea in Frido.

"Had that been any player in a match against Barcelona, imagine how any one of us would've reacted."

Frido knew, if she had seen someone do to you what she had done herself, it would've boiled her blood. To see you lying there unmoving, would've had any player on that field aching, because you were wonderful. You didn't cause fights, you forgave people, you smiled at the opposition after each game, you spent as much time as possible with the fans. And Frido had somehow broken that, gotten you to yell and scream and cry.

"We were together." She whispered, not meeting Ingrid’s eyes. "Well, not really. We were sleeping together, I was at her place most days a week."

The waitress came by, and Frido ordered a glass of wine. She needed a bit more courage to fully get this out in the open.

"I didn't want commitment. I'm not… I didn't know how to be open about that with anyone. I was ashamed of it—she knew. She could sense it." Frido gripped the stem of her wine glass and took a sip. "She hated breaks because she knew I wouldn't talk to her until I was back in Barcelona. Right before I went back to Sweden for camp… we had a huge fight. She said she couldn't take it anymore, that I made her feel like a whore, that I tossed her aside whenever I didn't want her. And I said I didn't care."

Ingrid was silent.

"I didn't expect her to kick me out. Or to refuse to speak to me. I thought we'd fall back together, we always did. But it was different this time. And I hated it. I hated it so much it made my head spin."

Ingrid put a hand over Frido’s where it rested on the table.

"Frido, I love you. You're my best friend, okay?"

Frido nodded, wiping at a tear that was beginning to fall.

"You've got to make this right. Good people do shitty things. Really shitty things sometimes. But sometimes they're also forgiven, in time. And if you want anything with her, even friendship, you've got to apologize and explain yourself."

Frido nodded, meeting Ingrid’s eyes finally.

That night Frido found it difficult to get to sleep.

There wasn't any good reason for it: she had worked hard in practice all day and her body was exhausted. Her bed was comfortable, her apartment quiet. But it was empty. She had realized that she hadn't spent a week straight sleeping in her apartment for months. At least once a week she was with you, always.

But now you weren't speaking to her. You looked at her during practice, then avoided her at all costs. She hadn't even tried texting you, worried she would find her number blocked.

She contemplated calling someone to keep her company, though who would be up at one in the morning?

Eventually she fell asleep after tossing and turning for what felt like hours. She slipped away into unconsciousness, allowing her body to relax into the mattress.

Her mind, however, had different plans.

In her dreams she was in the hospital, unable to get to you. She stood at the door to your room, peering in through a small glass window. The rest of the girls were inside, holding your hand and stroking your skin as you laid in the hospital bed. Your eyes were open but you hardly moved. All she knew with certainty was that you did not want to see her. You wanted her gone. You've ruined my life, she heard you say, though your lips didn't move.

Another time you had simply disappeared. Her fault. You had moved far away, far from Barcelona, and far from her. You were happier somewhere else, with different people.

Once more you hated her. Refused to speak.

When she woke it was to a dark room and a sick feeling in her stomach. She was lonely. She wanted you next to her in bed. She wanted to see you smile and hear you laugh. She wanted to see you play great football and jump into her arms after a goal. And it terrified her to think she wouldn't get any of that again.

How was it that she could've treated you so horribly? It confused her, as if it had been someone else. How had she let her fear control her like that? And most importantly, how had she put your feelings aside so callously?

If she was going to fix anything she would need to apologize. Apologize for it all. Ingrid was right. She hadn't been there for your recovery and now it was all she wanted. The guilt of it all threatened to choke her. She thought of how scared you must've been lying on the field in pain.

Though it was only 4:30 in the morning Frido got out of bed and went to the bathroom to start a scalding hot shower. She needed a plan for how to fix things between you two.

It began that morning. Alexia brought you to practice. You were still living with her for the time being, until you were one hundred percent cleared. You didn't mind it, in fact it was nice to get so much time with Alexia when she was normally busy.

You walked into the locker room, so pleased to be getting into your kit for the first time in a week and a half. Even if it was just for physio work, at least you were in the uniform once more.

Unexpectedly, sitting in your locker was a small stuffed cow with a card and one of your favorite protein bars propped against it. You picked up the plushie, pressing it to your face and enjoying the softness. You were a bit of a child when it came to stuffed animals: you loved them.

The card was written in very familiar handwriting, and your heart jumped into your throat.

This made me think of you. I'd really like to apologize after practice today. Perhaps we can grab a coffee?

- Fridolina

The message was a bit stilted, but you could practically hear Frido’s hesitation on the page. She was nervous.

Just then the blonde came into the locker room to grab something from her bag. She glanced at you quickly, not sure as to your reaction.

"Frido," you called softly. You hadn't decided until that moment to try and forgive her, "I'll see you after practice."

Frido seemed shocked, but quickly her mouth transformed into a wide smile.

Practice seemed to fly by now that you were allowed to do something. The physio workers had you weight training and doing yoga to try and work your muscles that were tight from the pain you had been in. You felt like you were making progress, finally, after more than a week of sitting around.

The car ride with Frido was quiet. You sat in the front seat, fiddling with your fingers and checking your phone as she drove. She had music playing softly, some indie band you didn't know. It was bordering on awkward, though not quite there. You simply didn't know what to say.

Once Frido was pulling off the street to parallel park you spoke.

"I don't think I've been here before."

"I just found it a little while ago when I was wandering around desperately in need of some coffee."

The shop was cute. The outside was painted in chipping yellow paint and the shutters were open. There were a few tables outside, an eclectic set of guests seated at them. There was an old man reading the paper, a student on her laptop, and a mother with her baby. The smell of baked goods wafted from the entrance.

"The muffins are fantastic, if you want one." Frido offered cautiously.

You nodded and gestured for her to enter first.

You decided on a chai and a cinnamon muffin which did look incredible, you had to admit. When you were about to pull out your card to pay you felt a hand on your arm.

"I'll pay, please."

You allowed it, understanding that this was all part of Frido trying to ask for forgiveness. You were willing to see this to the end. It shamed you to admit but you had missed her deeply. It felt good to be near her, to smell her perfume and anticipate her ticks that you knew so well. What made you stay was the possibility that she had missed you too.

Frido carried your drinks and food to the table you picked. It was still warm enough to sit outside even with the sun setting. You tapped your foot and ate your muffin slowly, waiting on her to say something. You didn't want to speak first, but it seemed as though you might have to.

"So…" you started, trailing off to try and prompt Frido.

"I wanted to apologize. Really apologize."

You sat quietly.

"Just for the concussion you gave me?"

Frido hesitated.

"I'm still figuring things out—it's all jumbled up in my head. I was talking to Ingrid the other day and she made me realize I had to set things straight."

"What exactly does that mean?"

"I'm not explaining this well—I wanted to apologize for hurting you. And I want us to be on better terms. I wish we could start over."

"That's it?"

Your chest squeezed painfully. You thought this was the chance you had to deal with the horrible ending to your relationship, but Frido seemed to have no interest in unpacking it. You couldn't help the way your anger flared in response to the hurt you felt.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm not exactly okay, Frido." You started to stand up. "I think it's better if I left. There's no hard feelings over the concussion, I knew it was an accident. Let's just forget about all of it."

Frido stood up quickly, reaching out to grab your elbow.

"Can I drive you back?"

You shook your head.

"I'd really rather walk. It isn't far to Alexia's."

Frido looked for a second like she would push further, but then she deflated and nodded.

"See you at practice, Frido. Thank you for the coffee."

You couldn't help the tears that fell down your face as you walked down the streets of Barcelona. Deciding to forget the whole thing was worse than being angry about it—at least then you got some acknowledgment. Now you felt as though Frido was telling you she just wanted to smooth things over and make nice. She wanted it to be as if this thing between you never existed—all the pain and attraction gone in one fell swoop. You wanted to scream.

How were you meant to play with someone who you had so much conflict with? Surely Alexia or Jona would begin to notice sooner or later. You knew it would affect the team chemistry. The thought just made you more upset.

The tears in your eyes began to fall faster. Not only was your relationship (whatever messy bleeding thing it had been) ruined, but there was a potential for it to impact your job, your team too. What would you do then? If it came down to you or Frido you couldn't imagine Barça picking you.

Alexia noticed you were crying the second she saw you, even though you tried to hide it.

"What's wrong?" She fretted, pulling you close to her. "What happened? I thought you were with Frido this afternoon? Why did she not drop you off?"

You just shook your head, burying it in your captain's sweater. She wrapped her arms around you, quietly shushing you.

"Come, let's sit down."

You felt like a child being led to the couch and leaning in Alexia's embrace. Deep breaths eventually calmed you down so you could speak.

"I'm sorry Ale, I shouldn't be coming here like this."

Alexia shook her head.

"Nonsense. Tell me what happened. Was it Fridolina?"

"It's my own fault, I let it get like this."

"Let what get like this? The accident?"

You shook your head.

"Not the accident. Frido and I have a…we have our difficulties."

Alexia looked at you, surprised.

"Really?"

"I don't think I can tell you…you're her captain I don't want to let it affect the team."

Alexia took your hand.

"I can separate work and personal life. I'm your friend too, and it seems like you need one."

"We were seeing each other, kind of. In secret." You sighed. "We weren't exclusive, she just wanted some fun I think. I didn't."

You felt defeated. There wasn't much more to do. You just had to accept your fate.

Alexia looked at you for a moment in disbelief. She had had no idea.

"You and Frido?"

"It was a mistake."

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #my writing #woso community #woso #barca femini x reader #woso imagine #fridolina rolfö x reader #fridolina rolfo x reader

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swordsandholly · 6 months

Text

Steel Magnolia

Part 1 - paused

Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!plus size!reader

No use of y/n

Rating: Mature/MDNI

Word Count: 2.1k

Author’s Note: I just recently got back into fandom spaces and reading fanfic again and looooove the uptick in fat Y/N characters. Ofc as a big girl myself I wanted to try my hand at writing one too.

Hopefully I’ll post this on AO3 soon. Whenever I get my invite so I can make an acc.

“Oh! Darlin’, did ya see those boys next door?” Mrs. Duprey gasps as you swipe the last of her Bubble Bath OPI polish across her fingers.

“Next door?” You cock an eyebrow. “No one’s been next door since Adam and Eve.”

“I saw them on the way in!” She grins, the corners of her eyes wrinkling pleasantly. “Strappin’ young men - y’should talk t’ ‘em.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m sure I will sooner or later, ma’am.”

“You’ve been single too long.” The nosey old bat contributes. As much as you love her she truly cannot leave well enough alone.

“And I’m perfectly content as such.” You give her your warmest smile.

The trailer home across from you has remained empty for as long as you can remember. It’s well kept - sometimes you see random gardeners mowing or going in an out with tool bags - but no one lives there permanently. You’d think in a beach town it would at least belong to some snowbirds. A timeshare, maybe. It’s none of those things, though. Just a well-maintained, perfectly empty husk.

There’s a metaphor in there somewhere, probably.

Sure enough, as you walk Mrs. Duprey out of your little single wide trailer, you spot a black SUV parked out front of the neighboring double wide. One that is definitely *not* a repair man or worker’s vehicle. She coos at you to make sure to talk to them before waddling off to her own car. She really shouldn’t be driving at her age. You wonder briefly - futilly- if she’d sell you her car in exchange for rides.

You suppose she’s right - even if it is for the wrong reasons. You’re not particularly interested in flirting with the new neighbors. After all, don’t fuck where you eat is a saying for a reason, but it wouldn’t exactly be neighborly to not introduce yourself. Especially with all the people coming and going from your home for your nail tech services. The old Yankee’s catty-cornered from you still believe that you're a drug dealer. At least they only come down for a couple months of the year.

Despite your staunch decision not to flirt, you still find yourself adjusting your clothes. Maybe the sports bra as a top is a bit much…

Fuck it. If they live here now they’ll see you in worse.

You fix your lipstick and throw on your platform sandals. The ones that clip-clop as you walk. Maybe it will help announce your presence.

The screen door wraps quietly as you knock. You take two steps back on the front, wooden porch so as not to come off too aggressively. As the seconds tick by you debate on knocking again. Maybe they’re out. Or busy. They did just move in today, most likely. Maybe you should-

The door creaks slightly as it opens. A very, painfully handsome man pushes the screen door until it clicks in place. “Afternoon, lassie.”

You blink stupidly as he crosses his strong arms and leans on the doorframe. His eyes are a striking shade of blue - somehow both sharp and soft. His dark hair is shaped into a slightly grown-out, un-styled mohawk. It fits him oddly enough.

“I, uh,” you take a deep breath. Christ you need to get laid if just *looking* at a hot guy has you this off kilter. “I live across the way. Just wanted t’ say welcome t’ tha neighborhood.”

That lopsided smile on his face grows into a grin. You don’t miss the way his eyes catch on your chest. “Aye? Nice tae meet ye. Names John MacTavish. M’friends call me Johnny.”

He gives your hand an extra little squeeze after shaking it. That accent might as well have you on the floor. You continue to blink dumbly, watching the at the scar on his chin stretches as he speaks.

Christ almighty, you’re pathetic.

“Nice to meet’ya.” You give him a warm smile, tilting your head to the side slightly. “Ya’ll here for vacation? We don’t get many Europeans ‘round here.”

He chuckles. It’s low and rumbling and would probably feel wonderful with your ear pressed to his chest. “Little bit o’ business, little bit o’ pleasure. This an’ tha’.”

“Hello, there.” Another man pops up from behind Johnny suddenly. Fucking hell, he’s gorgeous too. Older, for sure, with a uniquely cut beard that would probably look rather silly on anyone less handsome. At it stands, he manages to make it appear dignified.

“Ah, jus’ about tae call fer ye, Cap. This is our neighbor.” Johnny gestures toward you.

“John Price.” The man steps forward to shake your hand. It’s firm and professional and thank god your grandad made you practice a good handshake as a kid or you’d be painfully embarrassed.

“Are all UK men named John or is this just some sorta cult?” You blurt, unable to stop yourself from snickering at them.

Older John chuckles at you fondly, his facial hair giving him a pleasant U-shaped smile. “Be easier to remember that way, wouldn’t it? No, we’re with two others. Kyle and Simon. They’re out at the moment.”

“Kyle and Simon.” You repeat, nodding. Johnny, John, Kyle, Simon. “Are y’all in town long?”

“Indefinitely.” Is all Price gives you. It’s a tone that even someone as dense as you can recognize as ‘don’t ask more.’

You clap your hands together and smile a little wider, ready to make your exit. “Well, I’m not here t’be a bother, just wanted t’ welcome ya and, uh, let y’know that I have a lot of people over throughout the day - I’m a nail tech. They shouldn’t bother ya but y’know.”

“Ye can come bother us anytime, bonnie.” The Scot hits you with that grin again and your face suddenly feels far too hot.

A loud, whining screech sounds off from down the road. You check your watch. Holy shit, three-thirty already. You begin to back off the porch. “Ah, nice t’ meet ya again! See ya ’round!”

As you jog down the little dirt road of the trailer park another black car passes you. It’s smaller, a sedan. You make very brief eye contact with a blonde wearing a surgical mask and another man with the sharpest golden eyes you’ve ever seen - even through the tint of the window.

*Kyle and Simon,* you think.

You make a mental note to greet them at some point and continue down the street. The school bus slowly stops at the entrance and you take up your spot in the small crowd of parents. IT’s a shabby old bus - chipping paint and break pads that sounds like they’re about ready to snap. It’s all they’re willing to send out to your little section of the city, though.

Shelby meanders over in your direction, her usual Camel Crush lit up in one hand and the other teasing her already well-lifted hair. “Afternoon. Saw there was some new folks across from ya.”

“Hm?” You keep your eyes on the bus. “Ah, yeah. Just vacationers, I think.”

“Lookers, though.” She chuckles.

“They’re from the UK.” You offer.

“No shit!” Shelby stamps out her cigarette as the bus doors open. “Accent and all?”

“Yep.” You grin.

Shelby tsks and fiddles with her hair again. “I best go over an’ make myself known, then.”

“There’s an older fella with a neat beard. Think you’d like ‘em.” You snicker.

She hums. “I’ll bring a pie.”

The children practically burst out of the bus doors, as always. Ready to be home and shuck off their backpacks to their respective adult. Shelby’s son almost knocks her over, offering a little “Good afternoon, ma’am!” to you before heading off with his mother.

You nod to him, shoving a hand in your pocket as you wait for yours. She’s always the last. Always caught up in a book or something and doesn’t realize it’s time to get off of the bus. Sure enough, the driver has to call back to her before the little girl comes dashing out. She jumps off of the bus steps, despite being told time and time again not to, and kicks a rock on her way toward you.

You bow low for her. “Welcome home, Lady Sophie.”

She giggles, dark curls bouncing as she skips over. “Ni-ni!”

You take her bag from her. The thing really does dwarf the poor six year old. Her hand slips into yours easily. Soft and round and somehow always so much warmer than yours.

“My nail color chipped!” She announces, holding up her ring finger on the opposite hand.

“Oh! Now we can’t have that. I’ll fix it tonight.” You smile, waving at old Mr.Chester as the two of you pass.

“Well now!” He calls. “How blessed am I to see two such lovely ladies!”

You both giggle, continuing on your way. He’s a good landlord - spotted you more than a few times when Sophie was a baby and you couldn’t work consistently. Honestly, as you look around, the little community that he’s managed to build in this shitty corner of the world should be praised. Housing just enough snowbirds to cover his property costs while keeping rent low for the full time locals. Maybe you could convince Natalie at the paper to run a little story on it or something.

As you pull up to your own home, the blonde man is outside leaning on the front of their double wide. Seeing him standing at full height makes your blood run cold. The man is built like a damn barn - tall and wide. Beyond solid. *Brick shithouse*. It’s a bit weird that he’s covered in clothing head to toe but whatever. Weirder things have happened before. The mask still covers his face, you wonder if he had taken it off before you came up or just flipped it up to smoke.

“Sophie, head on in. I’ll catch up.” You push her toward the door. She scampers in, the screen door slamming behind her as you march up to the brick shithouse of a man in front of you.

“Which are ya? Kyle or Simon?” You smile, holding out your hand to shake.

Dark eyes rake over you, stopping briefly on your hand, before moving back to meet yours. He stomps out the half smoked cigarette. “Simon.”

You let your hand drop. Bit rude, this one. “Nice t meetcha.”

The other man pops his head out of the trailer. Kyle, you assume. “Oh. Hello.”

“Hi.” You smile as warmly as you can, giving your name. “I’m assumin’ yer Kyle.”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “I’m guessing you’re the neighbor Price mentioned.”

You nod, about to speak again but Simon shoves past you, marching his way up the steps. “Let’s go.” He grunts, pushing the other man back into the trailer despite his protests.

You wrinkle your nose at him. What an asshole.

“Who’s tha’?” Sophie asks over the back of the old, worn couch as you let the trailer door slam behind you.

“New neighbors.” You say simply, glancing out the window. “Don’t go over there without me, yeah?”

“Okay!” She agrees, sitting back on the couch and bouncing, beginning her usual post school chant. “Bluey! Bluey! Bluey!”

You drop her backpack down beside the small coffee table. “After yer homework.”

“Nooo!” She pouts.

“Then no Bluey.”

Sophie pouts harder but crawls down in front of the coffee table and pulls out her little work sheets. At least the school doesn’t over run them too terribly with homework toward the end of the year. You glance at the calendar. Wednesday, May 22nd. Damn, she really only has about a week left. Though, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to this summer break with her. She’s old enough now that you can take her places like the arcade without having to wait on her so much. You’ll actually be able to play some of the two-player games.

Plus, this year, you actually have a little more pocket change to make it fun.

You turn to look out the window once more at the new neighbors. Their curtains remain closed, cars neatly parked out front. The door opens slowly, the hot Scot and rude blonde wander to the Sedan. Simon’s shoulders shake at something Johnny said - you think he’s laughing but its hard to tell with that mask. Johnny’s head turns, blue eyes meeting yours through the shitty glass windows of your trailer. You squeak and duck to sit next to Sophie, praying that he didn’t catch you staring.

#simon x reader #fanfiction #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #fanfic #call of duty #plus size reader #fat reader #ghost cod #cod x reader #cod mw2 #holly writes

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lowkeyerror · 3 months

Text

The Family Business Ch.14

WandaNat x Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Ch. Notes: Angst, action, gun violence, character death

Summary: Things quickly escalate as Fisk tries to end the struggle for power once abd for all.

An: ... So it's been a minute. Sorry about that and frankly idk when the next update will be, hopefully sooner. However, whatever you thinks going to happen here, I don't think you'll see this coming.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Wilson Fisk didn’t often smile. He was a sad and angry man that did his best to keep a neutral scowl on his face. What was there to smile about when he had lost everything. His wife, his daughter, his freedom, all irreplaceable. Being in prison while his wife and daughter were being buried is an ache that will never truly get over.

The void inside of him can only be filled by power and control. He will have the city and he will claim it for all that he has lost. He knew that to be a irrefutable fact.

Now, his smile was something straight out of a nightmare. It sat lopsided on his round face. It was there and it was horrifying. His smile only widens as he heard hushed voice over his phone.

When the line goes dead, he claps his hands together. He leans back in his desk chair. The smile doesn’t leave his features.

“Sleeping beauty has opened his eyes.”

Plans change at a wits notice, and things pivot, but goals could still be accomplished. Fisk wants Dragos gone and like a shark surrounding an injured surfer he smells blood in the water. It is time for him to strike.

Bowling was the activity that you came up with. Something in a place full of people, something that you enjoyed much in your youth, something that Pietro was unequivocally skilled at.

“Another strike ladies are you even trying?” Pietro gloats after looking at the scoreboard.

You might’ve been putting in a decent amount of effort, Wanda as well, but the two of you could tell Natasha was handing the man the win.

“Natasha, maybe take him down a peg,” you whisper in her ear.

“I thought we were supposed to be cheering him up, lisichka,” she taunts you with a smile.

“He can be happy without his ego being stroked,” Wanda puffs out in annoyance.

Natasha laughs at their bitterness, but nonetheless when it was her turn she quickly bowled a strike.

“Let’s go Natty,” you clap for her and Wanda let’s out a whistle.

“Is this where I realize you've been letting me win all night,” Pietro pouts.

Nat plops her hand on his shoulder, “I’m afraid so."

You all share a laugh and for moment everything feels normal. You could almost forget your ties and affiliations and feel like normal people. The moments were becoming more present in your life to the domestic nature of your relationship with Wanda and Natasha.

By now you should’ve known that sitting in any of those feelings did you no good.

When your phone rings you answer it immediately.

“Hello?”

“Y/n you will get through this. Do not let this be the end of what we’ve worked for, you don’t- you don’t need me malysh.”

“Papa? You’re awake, what are you you-”

“Y/N! Listen please, just take care of our family. I called you because, I trust you.”

As he speaks on the phone you gather Wanda, Pietro, and Natasha urgently. You have to go, it’s urgent. They can tell you’re shaken and when you put the phone on speaker they understand.

“Papa I don’t understand,” your voice trembles as you speak.

“Tell Flora, that my love with her doesn’t end with my last breath. Tell my Pietro that he’s the heart of all of this. Tell Wanda that all I want from her is for her to be happy.”

Natasha is the one that ushers you all into the car as you begin to shut down slightly.

“You can’t do this to us again papa,” your voice cracks in the end.

“It’s out of my hands,” you can hear fear in his voice and it terrifies you.

You hear a dark chuckle in the background of the call, “He’s right you know, it’s not in his hands.”

The smile in Fisk’s voice is present and it scares you, but you bluff the man.

“Haven’t you already made this play before, and it didn't work out for you did it?”

“Only because you interfered, and I got you back pretty significantly for that didn't I, sweetheart?”

Your jaw clenches, “Fisk , take a moment to think, really think what you're about to do. We are already enemies, in competition for control of the city, but that’s just business. Every move you’ve made recently has been personal. Going to war over turf it’s respectable, but if we go to war over family, there’s only one way this ends.”

“This is why I enjoy you so much kid, you have such an intelligent mind. Even under pressure you string together the right words. However, you’ve got it all wrong. There’s always only been one way this is going to end,” you hear the sound of the gun clicking.

“We will leave the city, just don't shoot him,” Pietro finds his voice.

You, Wanda, and Natasha look at him like he’s lost his mind.

“I didn't know we had guests on the phone with us, what a surprise. Keep talking little Maximoff, I like what you're offering.”

Pietro begins spewing nonsense, “We will disappear from New York and never come back. We will cut all ties with city and anything in it. It will be yours for the taking. Please, just don’t shoot him.”

“Anyone else want to beg for his life?”

Wanda’s mouth opens and closes a few times as her eyes water. You take the initiative instead.

“Wilson, you lost your family. Your wife and daughter were taken from you. Good people caught in the crossfire of your criminal actions. Who helped you get back on your feet after you got out of jail ? Who kept a corner of New York for you? Who gave you a jump start on your way back to this lifestyle? Who was there for you? The history between the two of you isn’t as convoluted as you’re making it out to be.”

Kingpin takes a pause, “That’s in the past.”

“It’s only history because you are making it that way. We have made a good relationship between our businesses until recently,” you keep him on the phone.

Natasha’s only about 5 minutes from the hospital, you just need to stall a bit longer.

“I’m not a beggar or a dog, Y/Ln. I don’t take scraps,” he says in a menacing tone.

You pause when he says your last name. It’s not something you hear regularly, you don’t ever use it. How’d he know about it?

“Quiet now Y/Ln, surprised I know that name? That’s not the only thing I know about you sweetheart. I know something that the Maximoff’s have been hiding from you, something that might sway your loyalty."

You look at Wanda and Pietro who were already on edge, but worse than that, they avoid your gaze.

“This is my family, my loyalty won’t ever change,” you speak strongly.

He chuckles, “Not even when I tell you they killed your mother.”

“What?”

“They killed your mother. Ever wonder, why she didn’t come after you, why she didn’t bombard or harass you after you left? She was dead within a week. Your father was debriefed, and relocated shortly after your graduation. These people sweetheart, before your family, they’re the mob.”

You’re in front of the hospital now, but you don’t move to exit the car. It feels like something has pierced through your heart.

You want to say something to combat him, to say it doesn’t matter, but you couldn’t say that earnestly.

You push your feelings aside for a second, “We’ve both lost a lot, Fisk. Things that we can’t get back. Things that fuel us to want more than what the world has offered us.”

“We’re alike in that way sweetheart, robbed of a happy ending. Forced to create our own,” he’s trying to flip you but you aren't buying it.

“Losing another parental figure in my life isn't a happy ending for me,” you grit your teeth.

Natasha pulls you out of the car and starts giving hand signal directions.

“I sympathize with you, Y/n. You’re not one of them, you never were. I’ll tell you what, the Maximoff’s leave, but you stay and work for me. That’s my offer.”

“We aren't leaving without Y/n,” Wanda finds her words for the first time in the conversation.

“It’s either that or I put a bullet in his head. You’ve got 15 minutes to think it over, when I call back you better have an answer,” he hangs up.

“Y/n,” Pietro starts, but you don't look at him.

“We’ve got 15 minutes to save Dragos, that's what I'm focused on,” you dismiss his attempt at an explanation.

Natasha begins laying out a plan, “ We don’t know who in this building reports to Fisk, so we have to be careful if we go in. Dragos is supposed to have security at his door, I don't think the guards there would be ours if Fisk is in the room.”

“We need a deliberate distraction,” you open the car door and reach into your bag.

You bring out your laptop and hook your phone to it. You knew what room Dragos was in with Fisk’s call you should be able to ping how many devices were around him.

“3 guards, outside the rooms. These are the phone numbers, names, home addresses, close family,” you memorize the information.

You see a group walking into the hospital and figure its your best chance to blend in, “We’ve got to go now.”

Wanda and Natasha hold frustration about the way you’re moving, but they follow you nonetheless.

“We don’t have a plan for this,” Wanda argues.

“Blend in get to the floor they’re on and then I’ll handle the guards. Once they’re dealt with Natasha will go in and disarm Fisk,” you say straying from the group you walked in with to another group heading for the elevator.

Once you're in the elevator you speak to Natasha, “Send people to these addresses make sure they get pictures, the quickest means please.”

When you step off the elevator you spot the guards. You send them individual text messages, with their names addresses and a threat to their loved ones by name.

You see 2 of 3 panic while the other one believes it’s a bluff. Natasha sends the pictures of their homes to you, and you forward them to the guards.

You see them pale instantly, the look at each other and bicker lightly. Wanda wants to go forward and strike, but you shake your head. You wait as one of the guards takes off running from the room. The other follows not even a second after. The third looks at his phone and then in the direction the others had ran before doing the same as they did.

“Natasha, we’ll be on the other side of the door one steady knock when he’s disarmed so we can get in,” you instruct her.

She doesn’t hesitate to nod at your orders. Before she goes Wanda squeezes her hand in a pleading manner, but Natasha reassures her with a soft look.

You wait with baited breath when Natasha enters the room. For a moment it’s silent, no struggle can be heard, but then there’s a gunshot.

Wanda’s the first one rushing to the room door, with Pietro and yourself directly behind her. Her hand is on the handle as she attempts to yank the door open. You move her out of the way, and open it first.

Instead of a cool metal, you feel a searing hot metal burning your chest.

“Why don’t you all file in, so we can talk,” Kingpin rests the gun on your chest and you shuffle into the room, eyes shooting across to where Natasha grips her bloody arm.

Wanda and Pietro shuffle in, the red head immediately going to her wife’s side.

“Isn’t this a lovely little family affair?”

“Wilson, take the gun off of her. Your problem is with me, my family, they’ve done nothing wrong,” Dragos tries to reason with the man.

He digs the butt of the recently fired gun further into your chest and you grit your teeth, but refuse to break eye contact with the bald man.

“She is your strongest solider Dragos, she can take it. Y/n’s not even your blood, she’s your orphan project and you’ve raised her better than your incompetent children. She’s quick witted, brilliant, useful. I want her on my side,” Fisk eyes you with a shark like grin on his face.

“You’re out numbered,” Pietro reminds the man as he stands tall in room.

Fisk scoffs, “ Bed ridden patient, shot Russian, and girl with her gun to her chest. You and your sister aren’t enough to stop me, you could barely even run the business when I took your father out. None of the Maximoff’s have been running anything as of late. It’s all been Y/n, even before Wanda came back. She’s been the brains of this whole operation for a while now.”

“If you feel that way, then why would you go after Dragos first and not me?”

Fisk chuckles, “This information isn't something I've always known. I only had this epiphany a small time before I had an example made out of you.”

“I’ll never work for you,” you stand your ground.

“Then I’ll drop you where you stand and then I'll kill everyone in this room and own this cit-”

The gun was in your hand before he finished the sentence. You place it under his chin before cocking it back.

“Do it, kill me then sweetheart. This wouldn’t be your first time killing someone who just wanted to help you right? Poor little Lucas, didn’t even get the chance to grow up.”

You pull the trigger and instantly your face is covered in the mans blood. No one in the room saw it coming. You were usually better at not acting irrationally, but this time you had met your limit.

The gun drops from your hand and you rush out of the hospital without a single clue to where you were going.

“Go, someone go after her,” Dragos yells at his children and soon Wanda is on her feet.

“I will take care of it go,” Natasha reassures her.

Wanda’s eyes linger on her wife’s injured arm, “Wanda now.”

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headkiss · 2 years

Text

give you the moon

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: had you known getting your first tattoo would end up with you being in love with eddie munson, you might have gotten it a lot sooner.

word count: 17.8k

warnings: smut, probably inaccurate descriptions of tattooing processes (i tried my best!), strangers to friends to lovers, fluff

a/n: this one took forever but it’s finally done!!!! i’m sorry for the wait but hopefully u guys like it enough to forgive me :D

༄

You’ve always wanted a tattoo, and you figured now was as good a time as ever. Having just moved to Indianapolis, all by yourself, one change could lead to another.

New city, new apartment, new tattoo.

It may be irresponsible of you, but you settled for the first shop you found, the one closest to where you lived. A short walk away, harder to back out of. You knew you wouldn’t regret getting it, you just had to force yourself to sit through it, to commit.

The wind whips at your cheeks as you make your way to your consultation. You pull your sleeves over your hands and hope that it’ll be warm enough.

Once you’ve made it, the bell above the door rings to signify your entrance. A girl with brown curly hair sits at the front desk, a warm smile on her face. The place has dark floors, walls covered with different sketches that distract you for a moment.

“Hi! How can I help you?” The girl says, drawing your attention back to her. You walk the few steps up to the front desk.

“Hi, um, I’m here for a consultation,” you give her your name and the time of the appointment. “With Eddie.”

She shuffles about for a few seconds before finding what she was looking for, “yep, perfect. I’ll let him know you’re here. I’m Nancy, by the way.”

“Thanks, Nancy.”

She goes to the saloon type doors next to the desk, you watch them swing back and forth. You’re eventually drawn back to the art on the walls, eyes scanning the different styles and images. Your hands fidget with the ends of your sleeves.

A picture of the staff steals your attention next, Nancy standing next to a girl with shorter hair, their hands interlocked. Then, there’s a boy with brown hair and a kind smile. The one who really keeps you looking is the boy with long dark hair, his tattoos the most prominent.

A second later, that same boy is walking through the doors and calling your name.

“Oh, hi. That’s me,” you reply. Then wince at your awkwardness.

“Hi, I’m Eddie,” he gives you a close-mouthed smile, barely there. He’s even prettier in person than he is in that photo. “Follow me.”

He seems distant, sort of cold and you’re not quite sure what to do with it. Your nerves pick up even more.

He ushers you through the saloon doors, then through a room with three tattoo beds that’s filled with the buzzing of the machines and the other people from the picture and their clients. You end up in an office type room, certificates hang on the wall behind the desk.

Eddie takes a seat behind the desk that’s presumably his, papers scattered about and a cup overflowing with pens and pencils sitting atop of it. You stand by the door, shifting on your feet.

“You can have a seat,” he offers, gesturing to the chair facing him. He waits until you’re settled to continue. “So, is this your first tattoo?”

“Yes,” you feel nervous and you’re not sure if it’s the prospect of committing to the tattoo or if it’s the way Eddie’s gaze doesn’t move away from you.

“Well, I’m honored to be your first,” he winks, your heart stumbling at the innuendo. “So, what are we thinking?”

“The moon, on the back of my shoulder,” you pause, but he nods for you to keep going, to give more detail. “I wanted it to be a gibbous moon, almost full but not quite.”

“Alright. Got an idea for size?”

“Uh, kinda small. I think?” You huff, frustrated with your lack of an answer, “sorry I’m not so prepared.”

You stuff your hands under your thighs so that they’ll stop twisting in your lap. You cross your ankles and look down, slightly embarrassed at the way you’re acting in front of him. You were meant to grow in the city, to be better, but so far, not much has changed.

You don’t have friends, your job is slow, and you’re terrible with new people.

“‘S fine,” you think he’s being reassuring. “How’s this sound: we can try some circle stencils on for size now, then we’ll know for your appointment.”

“Okay. Thank you, Eddie.”

“‘Course. I’ll be right back.”

His exit gives you a couple of minutes to try and sort yourself out, to calm down. You want to be able to do this without the stumbles or hiccups that you’re so used to. You blow out a breath and wait for him to come back.

The way he carries himself confuses you, his almost detached nature making you overthink way too much. Although, he’s not being cruel or unkind, he’s just… you’re not sure if there’s a word to describe it.

He comes back with a couple of stencils, some sort of solution, a disposable razor, and paper towels.

“You’re gonna have to take your sweater off,” he says, setting everything down on the desk. When you don’t move to do so right away, he stares at you, waiting.

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

You slip off your sweater, your tank top underneath riding up ever so slightly with the movement. You pull it back down and set your discarded sweater on the chair behind you.

“Which shoulder?” He asks, putting on a pair of medical gloves and grabbing the razor.

“Here,” you slip the straps of both your shirt and your bra off the shoulder you choose, turning in the seat to face away from him so he’s able to do what he needs to.

He brushes your hair towards the front of your shoulder, clearing the spot he needs. He cleans off the area, then shaves it to make sure the stencil will stick, all in silence. He’s quick to apply it, his hands gentle and his breath hitting your skin in a way that has you shifting.

“Don’t move,” he chides quietly.

“Sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything more until he’s done, “okay. Have a look.”

There’s a mirror on one of the walls, and you walk over to get a good look at the size of the circle. You know it’s only the first one, but you think it’s perfect. It looks right and you’re excited to see it when it’s actually the design you want.

“I want this size,” you say, turning to face him.

“Are you sure? It’s only the first one.”

“I know, but it’s good. I like it.”

“I don’t want you changing your mind, okay?”

“I won’t! I’m sure, promise.”

He sighs, then wipes the stencil away and takes off the gloves with a snap. He takes his seat again as you put your sweater back on, goosebumps prickling your skin.

“When did you wanna book it for?” He asks.

“Whenever you’re free is fine, I’m not picky.” You don’t have anywhere else to be, really.

“You’re not the best at answering questions, huh?”

You think he’s trying to make a joke but all you manage to say is, “no, sorry.”

“You apologize a lot. You don’t have to,” he grabs something that looks like a planner then says, “I have a spot next week, if that works.”

Eddie tells you the specific day and time, and you tell him that it works. He hands you some papers to sign and read and bring back with you for next time. “Nancy will sort out payment and stuff at the desk. That’s it for today.”

“Okay. Thank you so much,” you make your way back to the front quickly, eager to go home and try and forget the entire interaction. He certainly wasn’t what you were expecting, and you didn’t know if it was a good thing or a bad thing. He was quiet, reserved, and hard to read, but he was good, you knew from the drawings in his office. He was also intriguing; a puzzle you wanted to solve.

You sort out everything with Nancy, who makes you feel a ton better about your consultation. “You look far too worried,” she says.

“I just don’t think he likes me very much.”

“No, trust me, that’s just Eddie. He’ll warm up to you, I’m sure.”

“I hope so. Anyway, thanks, Nancy.”

“See you,” she says as you walk out the door.

That night, you cuddle up and fall asleep thinking about Eddie and his demeanor, his warm hands on your skin.

He couldn’t get you out of his head, and that rarely happened to Eddie. He was used to meaningless things and he can’t remember the last time he felt anything for someone.

Not that he felt anything for you. You’d only met once.

Eddie spent the night after your consultation drawing way too many moons in his sketchbook, staining his hands with ink and pencil.

It’s two days later when you hear from Eddie again.

Your phone rings just as you’re about to shower before bed, the sun long gone though the city stays bright with lights. You hug your robe tighter around yourself and walk to where the phone hangs on the wall.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” an utterance of your name, a tone you recognize. “It’s Eddie… from Corroded Coffin Tattoos.”

“Of course! Hi, Eddie. Was there something wrong?”

“Oh, no. No,” he pauses, you hear him shuffling around on the other line. “I had a cancellation tomorrow and thought you might want the spot?”

You hate that the fact that he thought of you makes your stomach whirl. Of course, he could’ve called countless clients before you, but you like the idea that he dialed your number first better. You twist the phone cord in your fingers.

“That would be great. Thank you so much for thinking of me.”

If only you knew, he thinks. If only you knew how much he really did think of you—it was almost infuriating. How one person could have such an effect on him when he really doesn’t know them at all. He knows that you’re pretty, and you say ‘sorry’ far too much, and you smell really good, that’s all.

“Yeah. I’ll see you then.”

“Okay, see you-”

He hangs up before you can finish. You stare at the phone for a second after putting it back, wondering if that whole exchange truly happened, if you just dreamt up the whole thing. You pinch yourself until it hurts. You’re definitely awake.

You replay the conversation over and over, wondering why he hung up so abruptly, worrying about how you’re going to act tomorrow.

Eddie called you from his office, even though it was well past closing for the shop. He really needs to get himself together. He can’t be thinking so much about his client. About anyone, really. He can’t.

His head is resting in his arms when the door to his office opens. There’s only one person that never knocks and that’s Steve. He looks up and sees him leaning against the doorframe.

“Why are you still here, Steve?”

“Why are you still here?” He retorts.

“Got some stuff to do,” is all Eddie says.

“Your mood doesn’t have anything to do with the girl you just talked to on the phone, does it?”

Of all the people he could have been friends with, Steve was the most unlikely for Eddie, and yet here they are. Coworkers, and close friends. It’s almost annoying how quickly he can tell what exactly the issue is.

“I dunno. She won’t get out of my head,” Eddie shrugs, glancing down at the sketchbook he has opened on his desk, the one filled with drawings of your tattoo. “It’s annoying.”

“That’s a lot of moons, man,” Steve says as he walks closer.

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying. Maybe this is a good thing. I haven’t seen you with a girlfriend, like, ever.”

“Who said anything about a girlfriend?”

No, if anything, Eddie’s eager to get your appointment over with, to get you out of his head for good.

“Yeah, okay. Can't wait to say ‘I told you so.’ You know it won’t hurt to open up a little, man.”

Steve means well, Eddie knows he does, but the thing is it does hurt him. Or, it used to. He was used to being judged, someone the town saw as a character rather than a human. The best thing he ever did was move away, but that doesn’t mean he left the hurt behind, too.

You show up about fifteen minutes early for the appointment. You gave yourself far too much time, you think, because now you just have to sit and wait and the anticipation is making you more nervous the longer it goes.

The front desk was being manned by a different person today, “hi! I’m Robin, how are you?”

She talks quickly and with enthusiasm, like every word is exciting and important. You like her already.

“Hi, I’m good, thanks. I have an appointment with Eddie,” she nods in confirmation, looking down at the schedule in front of her. “I’m a little early though so… no rush.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, gives us more time to sort out the paperwork and stuff. He’s just finishing up with someone else so it won’t be too long.” She smiles at you.

“Here, I have these from my consultation,” you hand her the pages Eddie had given you to sign. You chew at the inside of your cheek as she reads over them hoping you filled everything out correctly.

“That’s great! I’ll just go tell him you’re here,” she goes through the familiar saloon doors, the buzzing of tattoo guns and light conversations slipping through.

When she comes back she informs you that he’s only going to be a couple more minutes, and instead of telling you to go take a seat, she asks, “first tattoo?”

“Yeah, I’m nervous. Mostly excited,” you give her a small smile, one that makes hers widen.

“Don’t worry! I had to take like five breaks for my first one and now here I am.” It’s then that you finally notice the ink peeking from her long-sleeve shirt, at her wrists, and on one side of her neck. “Eddie’s great, and I’m sure you’ve got great pain tolerance—I can sense it.”

You laugh, she’s somehow managed to make you feel much better in the short time you’ve been talking to her. Eddie walks out, greeted by the sound of your laughter and he almost stops in his tracks. Almost.

“Robin, stop chatting up my clients,” he says.

“I’m just being friendly, Eddie! You should try it out,” she replies.

You can tell it’s in good nature, because he ruffles her hair as he passes and leaves it there. From what you’ve seen so far, the workers here are close; a tight-knit group of people and you admire that friendship, long for it.

“Follow me,” he says. It takes you a second to realize he’s talking to you because of your distraction, but when you look up you find him staring at you, waiting.

“Okay,” you trail behind him as he leads you to the bed furthest from the doors, the one tucked away in the back of the room.

“You eat and drink water before coming? I don’t want you passing out on me.”

“Yeah. Yes, I’m good.”

He looks at you like he’s unsure, but moves along anyway. Eddie’s only worried because you’re his client and he has to, no other reason. He can’t be worrying because he thinks you’re pretty and sweet and far too kind. There’s absolutely no way.

“So, I did a couple sketches,” a couple is an understatement. “Have a look and let me know which one you wanna go with.”

You take a look at the five he’s laid out, all as you asked. Gibbous moons, both waxing and waning, some shaded more than others, some simple outlines. The one that catches your eye is a happy medium, fine lines with dotting for shading. It’s beautiful, exactly what you envisioned.

“This one. It’s really good.”

He tips his head down, “thanks. I’ll go get my stuff and we’ll get started.”

He’s not gone for very long, though it’s enough time for you to watch one of the artists at work, the boy with the brown hair. You watched the way he moved the needle, only looking away when Eddie came back and grabbed your attention.

“Gonna do the stencil like before, so you’ll need to move your shirt,” he says, looking down at his station and getting everything ready.

“Would it be easier if I just, uh, take it off?”

That makes his hands hover, paused in his task. He tries to shake it off; he’s seen a ton of people shirtless at the job and he’s never been affected by that, so why should he be now?

“Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“Okay,” you decide it must be easier without your shirt—less things in the way—so you take it off and try not to worry about it.

Eddie applies the stencil just as he did a couple days ago. Gentle, precise hands that you’ll feel the ghost of for hours after your appointment, you’re sure. His head bent close as he pushes the edges down so you can feel him breathing, catch his scent for a moment.

When he’s done, he holds up a wide handheld mirror for you to get a look at it without having to walk all the way to the mirror on the opposite side of the room.

Again, you’re impressed by his drawing, and seeing it on your skin makes you realize that you’ll carry a part of Eddie forever after this. His linework, his trace.

“So,” he prompts you to speak as your thoughts have taken you away, “what do you think?”

“It’s great. Really.”

“You’re sure that’s where you want it?”

He double checks every single detail. That you’ve picked the one you want, that it’s the right size, that you really want to do this. He does so until you’re laying on your stomach on the bed, positioned so he can work comfortably at your side.

“Okay, I’m gonna do a small line, just so you see how it feels,” he warns you, and you tense in anticipation. “Relax.”

“Sorry. ‘M just nervous.”

“You’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

He manages to ease you with very few words.

The sound of the tattoo gun sounds louder when it’s so close, more daunting, but you’re eager to get started only to get rid of the anticipation. He draws a short line after giving you a quiet warning of, “here we go.”

It’s not nearly as bad as you’d expected. A scratch, a small sting, but it’s manageable.

“You okay?” He checks.

“Yeah, it’s not that bad.”

“Told you you’d be fine,” he says so softly you almost miss it.

Your head is turned to the side where he sits, and you can see him in your peripheral vision as he works. His legs clad in dark, ripped denim, the tattoos peeking through. The sleeves of his shirt rolled up to show his forearms. You shut your eyes and try to stop staring.

He works quietly, though you can sometimes hear him humming along to whatever song is playing. You don’t try to make conversation because you don’t want to be a distraction.

It doesn’t take too long before he gets to the shading, telling you, “some people find this part a bit more painful. So you know.”

“Okay, thanks.”

He’s right, it is more painful and you find it harder to keep yourself occupied by looking around. You find it harder to ignore the feeling of the needle.

Eddie notices. He doesn’t know how, but he notices. Maybe it’s the way your eyes are squeezed shut at certain points, the hand of the arm furthest from him bunched in a fist. He decides he wants to ease the process for you in any way he can.

“So, why the moon?” He asks.

“Huh?”

“Why’d you choose the moon?”

“Oh, sorry,” you don’t see him shake his head at your unnecessary apology. “I’ve always loved it, how it has a cycle. The way it looks in the sky. Just, everything. Looking at it was a way of reminding myself I’m alive, kind of. ‘Cause I can still see it. I guess I chose this one to remind myself that even if it’s not whole now, it will be eventually.”

He wants to pick at your brain more, because he thinks it must be a beautiful place to be able to describe things the way you just did. You talk like it means a lot to you and the fact that you shared it with him so openly when you’ve been so quiet isn’t lost on him.

“That’s really…wow.”

“Sorry. I kinda rambled there.”

“No, no. I’ve just never looked at it that way.”

He asks you more questions after that, trying his best to keep your mind off of the needle and on the conversation. He asks how long you’ve been in the city, then, why you moved, and you give him honest answers for all of it.

Not long at all. Because I needed to get out, to be somewhere nobody knows me.

That made him think of Hawkins, of every person there who called him a freak, who looked at him like one. He needed to get out, too.

“Alright, you’re all done, just gotta wrap it up for you,” he says, putting the gun down and wiping over your skin one more time. “Do you wanna have a look first?”

“Please,” you nod.

He likes the way the word sounds coming out of your mouth—he gives himself a mental slap for that.

You sit up and he holds the mirror just as he did before. You can't help but gasp when you see it, exactly what you pictured. He did such a good job that you resist the urge to hug him for it.

“Eddie, it’s beautiful.”

So are you, he thinks.

“I’m glad you like it,” is what he says.

“I love it. Seriously, thank you.”

“It’s my job. Let me wrap it and then you’re good to go.”

He does, carefully and with the same gentle hands that have become far too familiar by now. When he’s done, he takes off his gloves with a snap, and hands you a pamphlet and some cleaning products to use at home.

“Thanks again, Eddie. You’re really good,” you say, putting your shirt back on.

“No problem,” he flashes you a small smile, one you’ll hold onto. “Um, here’s the card for the shop. You know, in case you need anything. Just ask for me, okay?”

“I will, thank you,” you take the card from him, your fingers brush his as you do. The name of the shop is written on it in bold, sharp letters: Corroded Coffin Tattoos. Underneath it, the phone number.

You’re led back through the saloon doors and met with both Robin and Nancy by the desk. They’re talking with wide smiles and rosy cheeks, their hands tangled loosely.

“I don’t pay you two to flirt,” Eddie says, retreating back where the two of you just came from.

Robin slips away, presumably done with her shift at the desk now that Nancy’s back. She gave you a kind goodbye, and makes sure that you promise if you ever want another tattoo to go back there.

“How was it?” Nancy asks you.

“Good! I’m really happy with it.”

“That’s what we like to hear! Eddie’s great. He gave me my first tattoo, too. Robin was mad for ages and then made sure she gave me the next one,” she grins. “Anyway, let’s get you taken care of.”

You pay for the tattoo, and then, you’re off.

It’s times like now that you wish you had someone to talk to, because you’re having way too many thoughts about your tattoo artist that you might never see again and you need to know if you’re reading into things too much. You need to know if his hands linger longer than they need to on other clients, if you imagined the way his eyes stayed on you, too.

You settle for overthinking on your walk home instead.

You didn’t think you’d end up using the card Eddie gave you. Not unless you were calling to book another tattoo, but here you were, leaning on the wall by your phone and dialing the number.

It was just a quick question, really, but you were still nervous. You’d only gotten the tattoo yesterday and already you were calling.

You’d realized when reading the aftercare instructions he gave you, that you didn’t have any unscented, gentle lotion like it called for, and you wanted to know if he had any suggestions for what works best. You tried going to the pharmacy, but the options were overwhelming.

You ended up buying something anyway because of how long you spent there. A useless magazine that was the closest thing to you when you noticed how some of the employees were looking at you. Some girl reading way too many lotion labels.

Yeah, definitely embarrassing, and definitely something you won’t let yourself live down.

The phone doesn’t ring for long before someone picks up, “Corroded Coffin Tattoos, Nancy speaking.”

“Hi Nancy,” you tell her your name.

“Hey! How can I help you?”

“Um, Eddie told me to call and ask for him if I had any questions,” you explain. “I was wondering if he’s available for a minute?”

“He did?” She sounds surprised.

“Um. Yeah.”

“Huh. Usually he makes one of us deal with calls instead. I’ll put you on hold and let him know, okay?”

“‘Kay. Thanks, Nancy.”

Desperately, you try not to overthink what she said. That he doesn’t usually get his clients to talk to him for things as minor as this. Why would he want you to, then? You don’t know why every little thing he does sends your mind into a whirlwind of ‘why’s and ‘what does this mean’s.

It’s maybe two minutes—silence filled by your thoughts—before the phone is picked up again.

“Hello?”

You can tell that it’s Eddie.

“Hi. Sorry to bother you but I just had a quick question for you.”

Eddie knows it’s you; he’s not expecting a call from anyone else. Not that he was expecting yours, it’s just that you’re the only client he’s even told to ask for him. He tries to cover that up by saying, “who’s this?”

“Oh, guess I should’ve said. Sorry,” you remind him of your name, as if he could forget it.

“Don’t be sorry. What’s your question?”

He’s quick to get to the point, and you can’t tell if it’s because he’s eager to help, or if it’s that he’s eager to get the conversation over with. Nancy’s words replay in your head. Usually he makes one of us deal with calls instead.

“I noticed that for aftercare, it says to use gentle lotion,” he hums along, urging you to continue. “I wasn’t sure what exactly that meant and I even went to the pharmacy but I didn’t know which one was good-”

“It’s okay,” he cuts you off. “I’ve got some here at the shop. Do you have time today to come pick it up?”

“Yeah! Yes, that’s great. Thanks so much, I promise I’ll get out of your hair after this.”

He doesn’t like the way that sits with him. He doesn’t want you out of his hair. He wants to see you again, he’s realized, and it’s almost too much for him to handle. The way he feels about you is brand new for him—never felt before. He wants to know everything about you.

“‘Course. See you soon, then.”

“Bye, Eddie.”

He hangs up.

You leave a bit after that. Not too soon, because you didn’t want to make it seem like you didn’t have other things to do, even though you didn’t. You’ve memorized the walk to the store at this point, and it doesn’t take you long to get there. You’re greeted by Nancy once again, only in person this time.

“Welcome back,” she says.

“Hi,” you smile at her, you hope it doesn’t look like a nervous grimace. “Um, Eddie told me to come here to pick something up.”

“Right, okay,” she stands, heading in the direction of his office, pausing to say, “he must really like you.”

Great. Some more material for you to analyze about Eddie and how he acts with you. It’s odd to have someone on your mind so constantly, to try and make sense of it. He has something about him that pulls you in, and you’re not sure how, or why, but you let yourself be pulled.

His hair is tied in a low bun when you see him, his bangs and stray strands of hair make it look messy, like he hasn’t had the time to redo it. And yet, he had the time to speak to you on the phone and now.

“Moon girl,” he says, lips turned up just enough to be noticeable.

“Eddie, hi,” your hands twist themselves into the sleeves of your knitted sweater. “Thank you for taking time for me, I know it was a dumb question.”

“It wasn’t. I’m glad you care enough to make sure you’re using the right things,” he says. He holds out the lotion, “speaking of.”

“Perfect. How much do I owe?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He probably shouldn’t make a habit of giving things away for free to girls he thinks are pretty and that confuse him way too much. For you, though, he’ll make an exception. It’s not like anybody else is driving him nuts like you are, anyway.

“No, you’ve done so much already. Please let me pay.”

“It’s fine, I promise that one bottle of lotion won’t hurt me.” But this possibly being the last time I see you might, he thinks.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am,” he confirms. “I’ll see you around then.”

“Bye, Eddie. Thank you.”

“Bye, moon girl.”

You look down at your feet as he walks away, letting your hair curtain your face. You really shouldn’t be feeling so giddy because of a fucking bottle of lotion and a new nickname, but you are.

“Holy shit,” Robin’s voice comes from the front desk. You hadn’t noticed, but she must’ve walked out at some point during your quick interaction with Eddie.

You curse yourself and try to hide the smile that threatens to spread across your face. “Hey, Robin.”

“Well hello,” she’s looking at you like she knows something you don’t, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “I don’t know how you did it but he’s never acted like that with any client. Like, ever.”

You don’t say anything, biting the inside of your lip to distract from the butterflies in your stomach.

“And, I’m so glad you’re here,” she changes the subject, thankfully. “Because Eddie mentioned you’re new to the city and god knows I could use friends who don’t work here and I wanted to know if you wanted to come for drinks sometime?”

Eddie spoke about you? Robin wants to be your friend? You can’t wrap your head around either of those things. It’s been so long since you’ve hung out with someone who wasn’t family. And even then, it was tiring, not fun.

You realize she’s still waiting for an answer when she clears her throat.

“Sorry, um. Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Yay!” She cheers. “What’s your number? I’ll call you next time there’s plans.”

You write it down on a scrap piece of paper for her, and she beams at you when she takes it.

“Eddie‘s gonna be thanking me for this one later,” she teases. “I think we’ll be great friends.”

You look at her smile, at her crooked tie that rests atop an oversized button up. You think she might be right about that.

As soon as you leave Robin and Nancy go to Eddie’s office. An intervention of sorts. They walk in without knocking (the door was open anyway) and stand in front of him with some look.

He’s pretty sure he knows why they’re both staring at him with knowing smiles, but he tries to ignore them and busy himself with some sketches.

Robin’s not having it, so she sits in the chair across from Eddie, kicking her feet up onto his desk.

“What do you want?” He sighs.

“Um, hello? Are we not gonna pretend that you weren’t flirting with her in your own, weird, Eddie way?” Robin starts.

“Dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Come on,” Nancy joins the conversation, on Robin’s side as always. “You’ve never told a client to ask for you, or given them free stuff.”

“Yeah! And, you were all ‘see you around, moon girl, hey let me stare at you and then not do anything about it,’” Robin lowers her voice, imitating him very inaccurately.

“I don’t know. She was nice, that’s all.”

“Nice enough to break your little rule of being mister nonchalant. I think you like her,” she’s right, but Eddie doesn’t even want to admit that to himself, let alone his friends.

He doesn’t say anything, shifting in his seat. He knows they both mean well, but he doesn’t know what to think and an ambush isn’t necessarily helping that. The pit in his stomach he’s had since he realized he might never see you again hasn't lessened, and the memory of your perfume or the feeling of your skin hasn’t faded.

So, maybe you did have an effect on him, but it doesn’t matter anymore. It didn’t matter in the first place because he wouldn’t let it.

“Look, Eddie, we’re not trying to make you admit anything,” Nancy says, “we just noticed that you acted differently with her. Steve did, too, I’m sure. And it was a good different. You seemed less guarded, I guess.”

“What she said!” Robin adds.

“Yeah, thanks guys, but it’s nothing, okay?”

They share a look, one that Eddie doesn’t understand but he’s gotten used to their silent communications over time. He scratches at the back of his neck, nervous about what they’re thinking.

“Anyway, I got her number,” Robin says, holding the small paper you wrote on for Eddie to see.

He grabs it, staring at your handwriting and the small heart you added next to your name. He fights a smile at the sight of it, cute and lopsided and though he doesn’t know you well, it’s very you.

He clears his throat, handing the paper back. “I’ve got her number on file already.”

“It’s not for you! It’s for me and Nance. We’re gonna be friends,” she grins, proud.

“We’re probably gonna invite her next time we go out, and wanted you to know. Just in case you care,” Nancy says, explaining.

Just in case you care.

He does care, he thinks. He cares way too much for someone he’s met three times and knows very little about. He knows you’re pretty, you apologize a ton, you fidget with your hands when you’re nervous, and you like the moon.

He knows that he cares what you think about him, and that when you called the tattoo he gave you beautiful, it meant more to him than most compliments do. ‘Cause it was you who said it. It’s too much for him.

Maybe he’ll skip out on the next outing.

“That’s nice,” he settles for.

“She’s new to the city and she’s cool. Don’t you think, Eddie?” Robin asks.

He swipes her boot-clad feet from his desk in response.

“We just don’t want you to hold yourself back, that’s all. You never go on dates or anything, even though you’ve had many chances,” Nancy says, softer now that she sees Eddie’s mind is full.

“Thanks for caring, you guys, seriously. But I’m fine. I like being single.”

“So, just be friends with her, then,” Robin suggests.

Her and Nancy leave him alone after that, his mind a bigger mess than before and it’s completely surrounding you. He doesn’t understand how someone could make him rethink everything like he is.

I like being single, he’d said.

And yet, when he imagines going on a date with you, giving you flowers, complimenting your dress or your hair, he’s not sure how true that statement is.

Your days drag by. You work in a small café, and whenever you’re not there, you’re either wasting away hours in your apartment or taking aimless walks. It’s a never-ending cycle, a carousel spinning round and round.

The only eventful thing that happened to you (other than your new tattoo) was accidentally spilling coffee all over yourself at work and having to stick out the rest of your shift in wet clothes. Not necessarily something you want to remember.

You’re beginning to lose hope that Robin will ever use your number.

It shocks you when your phone finally rings. You try to convince yourself it’s telemarketers, a wrong number, anything not to get your hopes up. Lucky for you, it actually is Robin.

“Hello?” Is your automatic word when you pick up.

“Hi! Listen, I’m so sorry it took so long to call,” she doesn’t have to say it to know it’s her. Robin has a very distinct way of speaking; rushed and animated. “So, I actually lost the paper. Silly me! But, then I found it and I had to convince the others to want to go out. Anyway, you wanna come?”

“Hi, Robin. That’s okay,” you find yourself smiling. Your first real one in a while. “When?”

“Oh! I forgot to say. Tonight?”

“I can do that,” you try to sound excited, you hope she can tell.

“Perfect! Do you have a pen and paper? I’ll tell you the place.”

You reach for your notepad and pen and do your best not to drop the phone in the process. Somehow, you manage.

“Yep, ready.”

She rambles off an address, a meeting time, and then, “shit. Boss is coming, better act like I’m working. Bye!”

She hangs up, and you know who she means when she says ‘boss.’

You’ve been trying your best not to think of Eddie, but it’s easier said than done. You constantly think you see him in crowds that pass by. A head of long, curly hair here, a worn leather jacket there. It’s confusing and almost embarrassing.

This boy who you barely know, taking up so much space in your life.

You’re reminded that you’ll most likely be seeing him tonight, as long as you’re right in assuming that by ‘the others,’ Robin meant her coworkers. The thought makes you nervous, makes your stomach do things you aren’t used to.

Despite the time you had between the phone call and when you had to leave, you’re in a hurry to get ready. Picking your outfit was the hardest part, because you’d never been to the place before. You decided on a dress that was simple enough, a denim jacket that you’d probably end up taking off (you get warm when you drink), and your trusty Doc Martens.

Your makeup is a little messy, but you don’t have enough time to fix it so you act like the smudged eyeliner was purposefully done. Your hair was left down.

Walking through the doors of the bar, you’re a couple minutes late and a little out of breath from your rushing. You look around in search of a familiar face when waving catches your eye.

It’s Robin, who’s waving the most obviously, her arm swinging back and forth until Nancy pulls it down and says something to her. Probably telling her you’ve seen them and she can stop. It’s sweet.

You make your way through the crowd towards the booth they’d secured. The boy, who’s introduced to you as Steve, is sitting in the corner on one side, Robin and Nancy on the other. Eddie’s absence is noted, and you guess you must’ve looked confused because Robin spoke up and said, “he’s just in the bathroom.”

She beckons you to sit with her and Nancy, and you fall into conversation easily. Even Steve is easy to talk to and you’ve only just learned his name. Sometimes you worry you’re intruding in their group, an outsider. In a way, you are, because you don’t work with them nor have you been friends with any of them for a long time, but they have yet to make you feel that way.

It’s a far cry from the friends (or lack thereof) you had back home, in the best way possible.

When Eddie comes back, the first thing he sees is you. He’s shocked. Not because you’re there—he was well aware of you being invited—but because you look like you belong with his friends. You fit right in, and you aren’t even trying. Then, he notices your dress and he wishes he could ignore the feeling he gets.

He’s painfully aware of how pretty you are, and when you look over, as if feeling his eyes on you, you give him a small smile and wave. He walks over and slides into the booth next to Steve as casually as possible.

“You look nice,” he says. It’s the best he can come up with.

“Thank you.”

The two of you are too busy looking at each other and trying to figure out what to say when the others share some kind of look. Knowing.

Your nerves pickup when Eddie’s around and you scold yourself for it. You have no business feeling anything towards him, and yet, his very simple compliment will be the root of your daydreams for days to come.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” you think you need one. “What’s everyone else want?”

“I’ll help you bring them,” Robin says.

You both stand, and everyone tells you what they want. You make your way to the bar and wait your turn. The feelings you have towards Eddie are confusing, and you’re not exactly sure what they even are. Intrigue, attraction, tension. Whatever it is, it’s unfamiliar.

Robin leans on the bar beside you, noticing you looking towards Eddie before even you do. When you pry your eyes away, she’s smirking at you.

“He likes you, you know?”

“Who, Eddie?” You ask even though you know that’s who she’s talking about. “No, he doesn’t. I actually think he dislikes me.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding. I’ve never seen him act like he does around you, and I’ve known him a really long time. Seriously.”

“He’s just being nice,” that’s all it is, you’re convincing her as well as yourself.

“Please. I know he’s hard to read and seems kind of closed-off, but he’s warmer towards you than most people. He barely even talks to clients, usually.”

Everything she’s saying, you can tell she thinks is true, but if you let yourself think it, too, you’d be absolutely fucked. Your mind would go wild with scenarios and imagining what could happen. You’re doing enough of that as is.

“I don’t know, Robin.”

“You’ll see, trust me.”

Unbeknownst to you, a very similar conversation is happening back at the table. Steve and Nancy are trying to knock some sense into Eddie, to get him to realize it’s okay to let someone else in. He denies it all just as you did, his head a mess.

He realizes that you’re not his client anymore, you’re here as a possible friend, and it scares him. There’s no guise to hide under with his urge to care for you.

When you and Robin return with the drinks, you’re the one who hands Eddie his, and when his fingers brush against yours, just barely, he feels them tingle even after the contact ends.

You loosen up a little bit as the night goes on, and you do end up taking your jacket off. The spaghetti straps of your dress leave your tattoo exposed, and Eddie can’t help but look at it. He’s always proud of his work, but seeing it on you is different for him. He likes that his mark is on you.

Nancy and Robin leave first, walking out leaned into each other. The rest of you follow shortly after, Steve slipping out after a quick goodbye. When you stand, you stumble slightly. Eddie catches you, a hand wrapped around your upper arm.

“Let me walk you home,” he says, his hand trailing down your arm lightly before he pulls away completely.

“That’s okay, Eddie. Really.”

You put your jacket back on and struggle to find one of the sleeves, your arm reaching back awkwardly. Once again, Eddie’s quick to help you, pulling your jacket over and guiding your arm to the right spot. You thank him quietly.

“C’mon, it’s dark out.”

“You’re not gonna let me say no, are you?”

He shakes his head, that small smile you so rarely see making an appearance.

The walk is quiet for a bit, the chilled air of the night nipping at your skin, your arms pulling your jacket tight to your chest. He falls into step next to you easily, pace matching yours so he stays right next to you.

He can tell you’re cold, and he resists the urge to throw an arm over your shoulders and pull you closer to warm you up. It’d be weird, he thinks. You barely know him and he’s sure you’d much rather be walking with one of the girls right now than with him.

“Sorry for, like, intruding in your friend group.”

Though you haven’t felt like an outsider, you do feel bad about worming your way into their group that seemed to have stayed the same for so long. You feel bad for the change you caused, the shift.

“What? You’re not,” he says.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, moon girl. I am.”

He knows he might not be the most welcoming person, but he doesn’t mind having you around, really. What he minds is the confusion that comes along with it, which isn’t your fault at all. That’s on him.

“Okay. Thanks for letting me come, then.”

“I think Robin would have smacked me if I didn’t. Besides, you’re nice to have around.”

He doesn’t know if it’s the few drinks or if it’s just a fluke, but the bit of honesty slips out of him with ease. Eddie’s not a trusting person, he’s been through too much for that, but he has never once felt like you were judging him.

The rest of the walk to your apartment is filled with light conversation and small, awkward silences. Having him next to you does make you feel safer, though. You never know what could happen.

He walks you all the way up to your door. You pull out your keys and fiddle with them, your hand shakes when you try to insert it into the lock. You miss a couple of times and feel the embarrassment scorch you. You don’t know if it’s the cold, or the drinks, or if it’s him making your hands unstable. Maybe it’s all of the above.

Yet again, Eddie helps you. He comes up behind you, his chest hovering over your back, close enough to feel the heat of his body, not close enough to touch.

“Here, sweetheart” he wraps his hand around yours and guides the key into the slot, the pet name slipping out without him noticing.

You do notice, though. He says it so softly, and you think it’s your favorite word that’s come out of his mouth so far. It has your heartbeat picking up, a steady thump in your chest.

“Thanks,” you breathe out.

You turn around, leaving the key in the door for now. He’s much closer than you were expecting and he doesn’t back away. Your back against your door, your nose almost touching his.

Then, something shifts, and he’s leaning in and kissing you.

It takes you a second to get over your initial shock, but you recover quickly, winding your arms around his neck and kissing him back. He makes a sound against your mouth when you do, pressing you further into the door. He has a thigh between yours, his hands holding your waist tightly.

He kisses you like he means it, and you forget about everything else. You forget that this Eddie is the same one who puzzles you so much, that not long ago you were convinced that you’d never see him again. And yet, he’s here, kissing you sick in your hallway.

He sucks at your bottom lip, pulling away and letting it snap back into place, opening his eyes to look at you for a second, then he dives back in. Soon enough, he’s licking along the seam of your lips to open you up, and his tongue has your knees weak.

When you whimper into his mouth, he tenses.

He’s snapped back into reality, realizing that he just made out with you against your door. He pulls away, pushing his fingers into his hair. There’s a sudden change, though this one feels much worse than the one where he kissed you.

There are too many things in his head. Thinking he shouldn’t be doing this or that you’ll hate him for it. You’re about to open your mouth and ask him what’s wrong when he speaks first.

“Fuck. I’m sorry,” he steps back until he’s against the wall opposite from you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Eddie-”

“No, shit. I’m sorry. Good night.”

He’s walking away before you can say anything else. You stand frozen for what could be minutes before finally letting yourself into your apartment. Closing and locking the door behind you, you lean your forehead against the wood and wonder what the fuck just happened.

You’re not sure what you did wrong to make him have to leave so suddenly, and you know it’ll torment you constantly. Replaying in the back of your mind. The worst part is, you were ready to invite him inside, to let him do whatever he wanted with you. He was gone before you could even get there.

Eddie feels awful for leaving the way he did, and he thinks about turning around and knocking on your door the whole way home. He never does, though. He’s sure you don’t want to see him.

You both have a fitful sleep that night. Blocks away, both tossing and turning in bed with that kiss plaguing your minds.

Robin and Nancy’s calls grow more frequent over the following couple of weeks, and in turn, so do your encounters with Eddie. You’ve become closer, would like to say you’ve become friends, even. Though, nothing like the kiss that the two of you choose to ignore happens again.

You chalked it up to his tipsiness, he tries to forget it altogether.

It’s not because it was bad, or unwanted. It’s quite the opposite, actually. Eddie’s so used to kissing meaning absolutely nothing, leading to more every single time. Your kiss, though, was completely different. It made him feel more than he knew he was capable of.

He’s surprised that you have yet to say something about it, especially considering the way that he left. It’s a two way street; he doesn’t bring it up at all, either.

He wants to. He wants to be able to explain himself to you, to tell you why he had to pull himself away so quickly. Only, he’s not sure how. He doesn’t know how to explain the way he finds himself drawn to you, the reason he kissed you, or the feeling that runs through him every time you lock eyes. If he can’t even make sense of it himself, how is he supposed to make sense of it to you?

He can’t even bring himself to tell anyone about it because he knows, as much as they try, it won’t help.

Tonight, you’re all piled on the couches in Steve’s apartment (it’s the nicest one) eating pizza straight from the box and chatting. It’s nice to be a part of a true friend group. You’ve never had anything like it before.

“Eddie, you left your guitar here, you know?” Steve says.

He plays guitar? Fuck.

“Shit, yeah. I did.”

“You know what that means,” Robin draws out the last word, shimmying her shoulders.

“No. Absolutely not,” Eddie shakes his head.

“Please! Serenade us, Eddie.”

They go back and forth for a bit and your gaze switches between the two of them like you’re watching a game of ping pong.

“I’d like to hear you play,” you pitch in.

Robin—of course—wears a smirk. She’s been trying to get the two of you together since she saw how you interacted, and she knows Eddie won’t say no to you. He couldn’t if he tried.

“Really?” Eddie asks softly.

“Yeah. I didn’t know you played,” you shift in your seat, “I’d love to hear it. If you want.”

He fiddles with his guitar pick necklace, which you catch. Maybe that should’ve been a dead giveaway that he’s a musician, but you’d never noticed it before, usually hidden by the collar of his shirt.

Eddie’s not usually a nervous person, but the prospect of you listening to him play has him feeling that way. He’s never worried so much about how someone looks at him, or what they might think. With you, he worries because he wants to impress you, he’s realized.

“Yeah, okay. Just for you, I’ll go grab it.”

Just for you. You turn your face away to try and hide how it affects you.

He asks Steve where he left it, and goes off to retrieve it. You watch him walk away until he disappears behind a corner. There’s something about him that pulls you in, something you wish you could figure out. You know you like him, it’s quite obvious, but it’s the kind that has thoughts of him crowding your mind and that has you overthinking every word.

“You guys are paining me, I hope you know,” Robin says.

“We’re just friends. Seriously.”

“Are you sure about that?” Steve adds on. Nancy tends to just observe when the topic of you and Eddie is brought up. She’s a rational person, and she’s trying to let it work itself out naturally. Though, she’s sure it will work out eventually. Hopefully sooner than later.

Eddie comes back before you can manage a reply, holding an acoustic guitar decorated with messy, white, painted-on lettering that says ‘this machine slays dragons.’

He sits down and tunes the guitar first, focused on his task. It gives you a chance to look at him closely, lets you get away with it because the others are watching him, too. Waiting for him to start to play. When he does, you’re transfixed.

Your eyes don’t stray from him at all throughout the song he plays. His fingers move with so much ease, his rings catching the light. It’s no surprise that he’s talented with his hands, just look at the art he creates on people’s bodies everyday. But, this is another layer to it, a piece of him that made you want to see more. Made you want to collect every jigsaw piece until you had the whole image.

You think you could listen to him play for hours on end and never get tired of his strumming. Yeah, you really do like him.

When he finishes, everyone gives him a round of applause, and he hopes his hair does enough to cover up the blush that blooms on his cheeks. He looks to you first, and you’re beaming, looking at him like he’s just done something groundbreaking.

“That was amazing, Eddie,” you say.

“It’s nothing special,” he replies.

“It is. You’re really talented,” you sound so sincere it squeezes his heart in a fist. “Double talented, actually.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

He lets it slip again, and you soak it up. Eddie tries to avoid the looks from his friends, especially after the pet name. Surely, they’re all wearing smug smiles and plotting ways to talk him into giving whatever the thing between the two of you is a go.

He sets the guitar aside, clearing his throat amidst the awkward silence. You look at your lap and frown at the run in your tights that you just noticed, avoiding being the first to say anything.

Every new detail you learn about Eddie only makes you like him more. You’re still not sure if he even considers you a friend, but you certainly consider him one. You would ask but decide to save yourself the stress of having to bring it up. The worst part is, the idea of him not liking you hurts more than you’d like to admit.

The silence is eventually broken, and the floodgates of conversation have opened back up. You and Eddie both let out a breath of relief, synchronized in secrecy.

When you get up to leave, Eddie suddenly has the urge to go, too, and he offers to take you home. Much like the time before, he doesn’t let you decline the offer. He’s just being nice, you think to yourself, he would do it for anyone.

This time, he drove, and he opens the passenger door for you when you reach his car. It smells like him inside, sandalwood, something sweet, the underlying smokiness of cigarettes that you don’t mind when it comes to him. He has a pair of dice hanging from his mirror, though they’re twenty-sided instead of your average six.

“You’ll have to give me directions back to yours,” he says, starting the car. “I remember the area, but…”

Yes, he remembers the area all too well. It’s where he lingered after he sprung a kiss on you and then walked away. It’s where he jerked himself around mentally trying to decide whether he should go back to you or just go home.

“Don’t worry, I can be your map.”

The drive is silent save for the music humming through the speakers and your occasional instructions on which turns to take. It isn’t awkward, you don’t think. It’s comfortable in the way that you don’t feel the need to fill it.

One of Eddie’s hands reaches out and lightly tugs on your skirt, “this looks really nice on you.”

He pulls it away after he says it and you wish he didn’t.

“Oh,” you look down at the fabric, something you’ve owned for years, worn when you can’t figure anything else out. It’s never been anything special, but now, you feel like it might be. “Thank you.”

Eddie feels inclined to compliment you all of the time, he’s learned, but he often lets them float in his head rather than say them to you.

He parks on the street by your apartment complex soon after, but you don’t get out right away. You unbuckle your seatbelt and place a hand on the door, but he stops you.

The sight of your building has him thinking about the night you kissed for what feels like the thousandth time. He wants to kiss you again and he clenches his fists to ground himself. If you’re any bit as torn up about it as him, he wants to know. He also wants to try and explain himself to you, even if he still isn’t sure how.

“Hey. About that night,” he doesn’t have to specify. You know exactly what he’s talking about. Your hand lets go of the door handle, settling in your lap. “I’m sorry I kissed you.”

“You are?”

You don’t want him to be sorry, or to feel bad about it. You only want to know what you did to scare him off the way you did. You also want him to kiss you again.

“Um, yeah. I shouldn’t have just sprung onto you like that.”

“Why did you?” Is what you say next.

“I dunno. You just looked so pretty, and I had the urge. The drinks gave me the strength to do it, I guess.”

He hadn’t been drunk, not one bit, but he doesn’t want to use the alternate explanation just yet. He doesn’t want to say ‘I kissed you because you confuse me more than anyone else. Because I’ve never felt so bent out of shape because of one person. Because you were looking at me like you wanted me to, and I can’t say no to you.’

He could, but he doesn’t want to.

“You think I’m pretty?”

He nods, almost ashamed about it.

“I think you’re pretty, too, Eddie,” his eyes lock onto yours, “and I’m not sorry you kissed me at all.”

“What?”

“I liked kissing you. I was going to ask you if you wanted to come inside before you left.”

You don’t know where your candidness is coming from, but you can’t stop yourself anymore. You’ve wondered and wondered what could’ve happened that night had he stayed, and by the way his gaze flicks down to your lips, you think you might find out.

The car suddenly feels smaller, the air thicker, when he asks, “does that offer still stand?”

You nod, he shuts off the car. You both get out, walking up to your place in a sort of haze. Neither of you know what will come from any of this, you’re going in blind and it’s as exciting as it is nerve-wracking.

Things slow down once you’re inside. It’s as if a fog has cleared and now, you’re both painfully aware of everything you’re doing, or saying. His eyes flit around your apartment in silence, looking at your bookshelf, noting the lack of personal photos.

You cut in before he can comment on your place, “can I get you anything? Water, or…”

When he responds, it’s not to your question. Instead, he asks you one: “how’s your tattoo healing?”

He’s been curious about how you’re feeling with it ever since he caught glimpses of it that night at the bar. You pause by your small kitchen island, looking him over before you can manage to reply.

“Oh. Good, I think,” you shrug a shoulder, “I don’t know enough about tattoos but it hasn’t bothered me much.”

“I can look at it, if you want.”

“Are you sure?”

You say it as if he would be going through lots of trouble to do so, when in reality he’s using it as an excuse to get his hands on you. Tattoos are familiar, not foreign the way his feelings for you are. It’s an excuse to ease himself into whatever this is.

“‘Course I am, let me see.”

“Okay. Light’s better in the bathroom.”

He follows you into your bathroom, and you wish you’d taken into account how small it is because you’re forced to be close to him and it’s making you nervous. The anticipation and unknown a flutter of butterflies in your stomach.

“Shirt off,” he says, his voice smooth.

You listen, because it’s hard not to when he sounds the way he does. You turn to face the mirror and peel your shirt away, tossing it to the ground when you do. You’re suddenly very aware that your bra isn’t the nicest you own, and your instinct is to cover it with your arms.

Eddie stops you, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror, his hands wrapping around your wrists gently, pulling them down. “Don’t you dare. You’re beautiful.”

He looks away after he says it, but you can tell he means it. It’s in the way he makes sure you’re looking at him when he speaks, the way he squeezes your wrists reassuringly before letting them go.

For a second, he forgot why you’re even in the position you are. He forgets that he’s meant to be looking at your tattoo until you say, “how is it?”

“Right, yeah,” he looks it over, and he’s satisfied to see that it looks exactly how it should at this stage. “Really good, actually. You’re doing a great job.”

The compliment warms your insides.

“Thank you.”

“Want me to clean it for you?”

“Sure, thanks.”

He does, disinfecting it first, after finding your products on your counter. He’s gentle as usual, his hands a welcome feeling. Then, he applies the layer of lotion slowly, almost like he’s trying to tease you. It’s working.

His hands trail down your arms when he’s done, his head dipping down to press a kiss on the top of your shoulder. The first one is soft, a barely-there push of his lips against your skin. The next is a bit firmer, his confidence growing with each one.

They trail over the curve of your shoulder, his hands still running their paths up and down your arms, raising goosebumps in their wake, his chunky rings cold. He kisses his way up your neck, your head lulling to the side to grant him more access and your eyes fluttering shut.

Everything he does is filing you up more and more and he’s barely even begun.

“Eddie,” you sigh when he tugs on your earlobe with his teeth.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

He has no idea what’s come over him, but there’s no hiding the effect you have over him anymore. As soon as he got his hands on you, even just to clean your tattoo, he knew he’d be addicted.

“What are you doing?”

“Kissing you. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, yes, it’s- feels nice.”

You would be overthinking if you weren’t so distracted by the feeling of his lips on your skin. And when he uses a hand to tilt your face towards his and kisses you, you’re not sure there’s a single thought left in your head.

There’s something about him that makes everything more intense. You feel like all of your senses are captured by him and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. The smell of his cologne, the taste on his tongue, the feeling of his hands on you and his long hair tickling your skin. All of it.

Eddie pulls away to let the both of you breathe only when it’s absolutely necessary. He’s drunk on every kiss he gets from you and he doesn’t mind one bit. He wonders what you’re like in bed, what sounds you’d make for him, and he can’t stop himself from asking, “can I fuck you?”

The words are spoken between heavy breaths, puffed out against your lips.

“Yes. Please.”

Please, you say. As if you would even have to beg him. You have no idea what you’re doing to him and it only makes him want you more. He pushes his hips against your ass, letting you feel how hard he is and you whimper, you fucking whimper and he’s so gone.

He pushes you down to bed over the counter with a hand on the center of your back, and you obey easily. You’re practically squirming with want, the dampness in your panties growing with every move he makes.

Then, he flips your skirt up, his hands running over the tights that cover you before ripping them in the middle.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he says.

He keeps a hand on your back, though its drifted much lower, and the other sneaks its way between your legs, cupping you over your underwear before pressing his fingers against you. You can't help but moan at the feeling.

“Soaking already, sweetheart?” He taunts.

“Eddie, come on.”

“What is it?”

“You’re teasing me,” you huff out, your cheek pressed against your cool countertop.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

He hooks his fingers in the fabric covering you, pulling it aside and going right back to his teasing. His fingers run up and down your slit, dipping into where you’re wet only to pull away and circle your clit; just enough to give you a taste, to have you wanting more.

He’s winding you up and up and up and you think you might pass out if he doesn’t make you come soon.

“Eddie.”

“Yeah, I know. I’ve got you.”

It’s then that he pushes one finger in, his rings that still sit around his fingers only add to the intensity. He works a second one in quickly, your cunt sucking him in and he can’t even imagine how good it’ll feel when he gets to fuck you for real.

He’s quick to learn what you like, what makes you pulse around his fingers or moan a little louder. You had no clue that things could ever feel this good and when his thumb finds your clit, you’re absolutely done for.

Your breaths come out hot, bits of condensation gathering on the counter, “fuck. Oh my god.”

“Feel good?” He asks even though he knows damn well it does—your reactions are telling enough. He picks up the pace, his fingers pressing against that spot that has your knees going weak. He wraps his unoccupied arm around your waist to hold you up.

“So, so good, Eddie. Gonna come.”

“Go on, all over my hand, sweetness. Then I’ll fill you right up, how’s that sound?”

Your response is caught in your throat, a whine bubbling out instead.

“Quicker you come, the quicker I’ll give it to you,” he tacks on.

The thought of him fucking you after this drives you nuts because if just his fingers feel this good, you can’t even imagine what his cock will be like. Your orgasm washes over you, eyes rolling back.

He works you through it, steadily slowing down and easing away to give you a break. He pulls his fingers away, chuckling at the noise you make when he does, and sucks them clean. Then, softly, he’s leaning down and kissing his way up your spine.

“Holy shit,” you breathe.

“You okay?”

“More than okay. You’re really good.”

“‘M not done yet, babe.”

He stands back up, but he pulls you along with him so you're no longer resting on the counter. Hands on your hips spin you to face him, and as soon as you do he surges forward to kiss you. It’s quick, like he’s making sure it’s still okay to keep going.

His touch trails up to the band of your bra—which is askew, but still on. “Can I take this off?”

You nod, but he waits for a verbal confirmation before unclasping it and pulling it away from your chest. It joins your shirt on the ground.

You’re suddenly very aware that you’re half-naked and he isn’t. You tug on his shirt, eager to even the score, “you too.”

“Well, it’s only fair, isn’t it?”

He peels his shirt over his head, and you realize that you’ve yet to see his tattoos so closely. You reach out, tracing them lightly with your fingertips. First, the bats that adorn his forearm, working your way up to his shoulder, then down his chest. He lets you, happy to have your hands on him.

While you’re occupied with his tattoos, he looks you over, free to stare without worrying if you’ll notice. His eyes travel across your face, the slope of your nose, the shape of your lips. They go down your neck, a canvas he plans to leave his mark on, and down to your chest that’s now bare.

The sight is enough to remind him of how hard he is, straining against his jeans. He kisses you again, heavier this time, and lets his hands cup your tits, squeezing and thumbing over your nipples. You moan into the kiss and he can’t control himself any longer.

He lifts you up to sit on the counter, close enough to the edge that you’re forced to wrap your legs around him.

“You still want this?” He asks.

Your hands go to his jeans, popping the button open and lowering his zipper slowly, “yeah, Eddie. I want this. I want you.”

I want you. Eddie doesn’t know why the words make his heart go all fluttery, why they make him look at you like you’ve put the stars in the sky just for him. He kisses you all over again.

You fit your hand between his jeans and his boxers, and you gasp into the kiss when you feel just how big he is. He’s wide, and you know the stretch of him will be a kind of burn that hurts so good. You stroke him over his boxers first, but quickly grow impatient to see him.

You tuck your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them and his jeans down enough to free him. You pull back only to be able to look at him properly, leaning your forehead against Eddie’s bare shoulder, your bottom lip bitten between your teeth because he’s pretty everywhere.

He kisses the side of your head, tender in the midst of the heat of it all.

You think, despite his initial distance, Eddie’s one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. He shows it in the small things he does. Offering to take you home, the gentleness of his hands, his constant checking in on you to make sure this is what you wanted.

Yeah, you like him a whole lot.

Your hand wraps around his cock, jerking him slowly at first. A tease, he thinks. And then you pick up your pace just a bit and he thinks he might come before he even gets to be inside you and as much as he would love to see your hand covered in him, it’s not what he wants right now.

He’s never wanted anyone like he does you and he knows that information will have him overthinking later, but right now, it just makes him desperate to have you.

“Fuck,” he grabs a hold of your wrist, “as good as this feels, sweetheart, you gotta stop or I’ll come and this’ll be cut short. You don’t want that do you?”

He tips your chin up with his free hand, pecks your lips quickly before giving you the chance to respond.

“No. Want you to fuck me,” you say.

“Dirty girl.”

He reaches for a condom in one of your drawers when you tell him where to find them. When you bought them, you were almost embarrassed, because what were you expecting? Certainly not this.

He’s back on you before you really feel his absence, running his hands up your thighs, under your skirt, and tearing the hole he’d already made wider.

“You want me to stop, you tell me, okay?”

“Okay.”

Pushing your legs apart further to make room for him, he reaches down to paint himself up and down your slit, pushing himself in only when he’s teased the both of you sufficiently.

It’s a welcome stretch, one that’s better than anything you’ve ever felt in situations like this and you wonder why you didn’t move away sooner, if this is what it led to.

Eddie leans forward, resting his hands on the counter on either side of you, close enough that his arms brush against you. His face is close to yours but he doesn’t kiss you, no, he breathes the air you do, swallowing any sound you make.

His first couple of thrusts are tentative, slow, but when you wrap your arms around his neck and speak a quiet, ‘faster, please,’ he dives right in.

Somehow, he manages to know just what you need, and he wraps his arms around your waist to keep you still as he moves harder, quicker. Both of you are still half dressed, your clothes in disarray and his are pushed to his knees. You’re both so wrapped up in want and it shows.

“Fuck me,” you whine as he hits that spot inside you, like he’s done it a hundred times before.

“Thought that’s what I was doing, sweets.”

“Eddie.”

“I know, baby. You’re doing so good.”

He knows your orgasm is creeping up on you, he can feel it in the way you pulse around him, squeeze him tighter, bury your face in his neck so that your moans are pushed into his skin.

If he could, he thinks he’d get the sound of them permanently etched into his mind.

“Taking it so well. You wanna come, sweet girl?”

You nod against his skin, “yes. Yes, can I?”

He snakes a hand down to rub your clit, to push you over that edge and says, “let go. Give it to me.”

It’s like his words were what you were waiting for, the breaking point to let you finish. It’s enough to make your moans get caught in your throat and your eyes squeeze shut, seeing stars.

“Oh my god,” you choke out.

“That’s it,” he works you through it, and only when he’s sure that you’re on the comedown does he let himself finish, too.

He pulls your head from his neck with a hand cupping the back of yours, kissing you to really seal the deal, coming with a grunt into your mouth.

When he’s spent, he rests his forehead against yours, running his hands up and down your back soothingly, “you okay?”

“Mmm. Amazing,” you reply, dazed with a fucked out smile on your face. “Why’re you good at everything?”

He chuckles, kissing your cheek before pulling out, “maybe I’m just good at them with you.”

Discarding the condom and pulling his boxers back up—removing his jeans completely—he then finds a small towel and wets it in the sink. Meanwhile, you take off the rest of your outfit, figuring he’s seen enough already. He cleans you up first, delicate hands and a soft apology when you wince from the sensitivity.

He picks you up when he’s done, your legs wrapped around his waist and your head dropped against his shoulder. It feels natural, he thinks, to take care of you the way he would a lover. You feel like you belong there, in his hold, and he knows that you’ve changed him in a way.

His reluctance to get into any kind of relationship seems to have flown out the window now.

The door across the hall is the first he tries, and he guessed correctly when he finds your bedroom on the other side of the door.

He lays you down on your bed, and you pull the blankets up over yourself, lazily. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to look at Eddie the same way, but it’s not a bad thing. It’s not because of the sex, though it was notably the best you’ve ever had and you’ll undoubtedly think about it constantly. It’s because you have feelings for him. Real, true, romantic feelings that run far too deep for you to ignore.

He goes to leave, but you catch his wrist, “you can stay.”

“What?”

“I want you to stay with me. If you want to,” you say.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

He doesn't even hesitate, and he tries not to think about what that means for this thing he knows is blooming between you, its petals unfurling slow and steady. He slips into bed beside you, welcoming you when you snuggle into his side.

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Night, moon girl.”

You’re both fucked, literally and figuratively.

You wake up the most well-rested you’ve felt in a while. Flipping onto your back, you stretch out, and it’s only then that you feel the emptiness on the other side of the bed.

For a moment, you’d almost forgotten Eddie had been there in the first place. Then, you remembered you were, in fact, naked. The slight ache between your legs was enough to have last night coming back to you in a rush.

You wonder if maybe Eddie had to leave for work, but you don’t find a note or any indication of his departure. Instead, you hear the clanking of pans and plates coming from the kitchen.

You throw on a fresh pair of underwear and one of your oversized sleep shirts that sits at the top of your thighs. You’re still groggy, mind slower with sleep, but you’re awake enough to hear Eddie humming when you open your bedroom door and step out into the hall.

There he is, standing by your stove, cooking breakfast. You rub your eyes to make sure you’re not dreaming. Or seeing things.

He moves around like he’s been using your kitchen for ages, and his presence warms the space that you’ve had such a hard time getting used to. You recognize the song he’s humming to be the one he played on the guitar. The corners of your mouth lift up.

“Eddie?” You call quietly, careful not to startle him while his back is turned to you.

“Oh,” he faces you, frying pan in his hand, “morning, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

“I’m making us breakfast, I hope that’s okay.”

Is he kidding? It’s the most okay thing anyone’s done for you in a long time and you don’t know whether you want to cry or kiss him. He’s unlike anyone you’ve known, and you can’t believe how different he is now compared to when you first met.

His guard was up, short responses and little emotion. It’s a stark contrast to now, to the way he stands clad only in his boxers and his shirt from the night before, flipping a pancake like it’s the easiest thing in the world. You don’t know how he could even keep the saccharine boy hidden, it seems to ooze out of him now.

“It’s- Eddie, this is really sweet.”

The tips of his ears go pink.

He doesn’t know what possessed him to cook for you, or why the sincerity in your appreciation makes him blush. All he knows is that he thought it would be nice to make you smile, and that there’s something in his chest that seems to expand when you do.

“I hope you like pancakes,” he says.

That morning is the moment you realize you’re falling in love with Eddie Munson.

It’s been weeks since that night, that morning. Somehow, rather than put distance between the two of you, you and Eddie have grown closer. You think he’s one of the best friends you’ve ever had, even though you haven’t known him very long.

You’re not falling in love with him anymore. No, you’re deep in it now.

Of course, Robin was able to draw it out of you, and after all of her assuring you that there’s absolutely no way Eddie doesn’t feel the same, you still can't let yourself believe her. You’ll bever come back from it if you find out he doesn’t when you’ve built up your expectations.

So, you keep them low. He’s your friend, that’s all it’ll ever be and you know it. Or, at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself every time you catch yourself getting a little too lost in him.

You’re meant to be meeting the gang at the tattoo shop and then head somewhere for drinks all together. Because you’re not only close with Eddie now, you’ve found yourself friends that are real and true. Sometimes you find yourself wondering what your life would’ve been like had you been in high school alongside them. You think it would have been much, much better, but you have them now and that’s what matters.

You knock on the door when you get there, the shop already closed and locked up. You’re quickly greeted with Robin’s grinning face on the other side of the glass. She lets you in and wraps you in a brief hug.

“I think you should start working here just so I don’t have to miss you at all in between plans,” she says, stepping back and locking the door again.

“We both know I don’t have the skills for that, but I missed you, too, Robin.”

“Not as much as you missed me, I hope,” is how Eddie chooses to announce his presence.

“Hi, Eddie.”

“Hi, sweetheart.”

Robin scoffs at him, “can you not steal my thunder for once, please.”

“I’m not allowed to say hi to my friend?”

He looks at you when he says friend, like he’s sharing a secret. Only, you have no idea what it might be.

“Whatever. I have to go get Nance since she went home to change,” she gathers her stuff from the desk. Then, she points to you and says, “I better get a very detailed life update later.”

“You know you will,” you say.

“‘Kay, see you soon!”

She leaves after that, and Eddie’s gaze is already fixed on you when you turn towards him.

“C’mere,” he nods towards the doors that lead to the back room, where the station he tattooed you at is all set up.

“What’s this?”

“I want you to give me a tattoo.”

Your eyes widen, “sorry?”

“I’m serious. Doesn’t have to be big, it can be a dot if you want,” he gently nudges your chin with his finger, closing your mouth where it was dropped in surprise. “I wanna teach you.”

Your friendship isn’t the only thing that’s grown since that night. Eddie’s become more touchy with you, too. An arm slung over your shoulders, a hand on your thigh or the nape of your neck. Though this touch is small, it doesn’t fail to leave a lasting effect where it was placed, a warmth, like a drop of sunlight. It almost distracts you from what he’s asking.

“Eddie, I can’t. I’ll mess it up.”

“Babe, I’ve got loads of tattoos. Trust me, it’ll be fine,” he moves his hand to your shoulder, gives it a squeeze. “Plus, you’ve got a great teacher.”

It takes a bit longer for him to convince you, but he succeeds in the end. It’s hard to say no to someone you’re in love with, especially if that someone has really good puppy dog eyes.

Before you really even process it, he’s on the tattoo bed, a pant leg rolled up, shaving a small patch for you to use as your canvas. He does all of the prepping necessary, and even goes as far as to put the gloves on for you.

He explains it all slowly, repeats whatever you ask him to, and promises to guide you through it all. You’re incredibly nervous—who wouldn’t be?

“Relax. You’re gonna be a natural, I know it.”

“How do you know that?”

“You’ve got good hands, sweetheart,” he drops one of his eyelids in a wink.

The flirting is something else that’s become more frequent. You think he’s flirting, that is. He doesn’t act the same way with the rest of the group and you know that, but you also need to not get your hopes up. Still, the butterflies come alive.

You draw your stencil, settling on a very simple rendition of the sun. A small circle with short lines as its rays. It’s fitting for him, you think. As much as he seems like midnight on the outside, that boy is dripping in sunshine.

It also goes with the one he gave you, but that’s just a bonus.

Once it’s applied and you’re sat on the stool, in position to begin, he explains it all over again. He knows you’re nervous, but he isn’t at all. He’s excited to have you do this, to wear a piece of you on his skin.

His hand wraps around yours on the tattoo gun for the first line, guiding you so that you can get the feel of it. He lets you take over after that, assuring you that there’s nothing you could mess up enough to have him dislike it, as long as you’re the one doing it.

As he watches you work, your tongue poking out between your lips in focus, he feels his chest swell. He’s never liked anyone the way he does you, and he’s never let someone untrained tattoo him, that’s for sure. There’s something in him that seems to brighten when you’re around, and he doesn’t know how to put it into words.

He wishes he could pluck the moon out of the sky and hold it in his hand, only to be able to give it to you. Since he can’t do that, he hopes his heart will do good enough. He loves you, that he knows, he just can’t bring himself to say the words out loud.

He’s warmed up to you quicker than ever, so much so that the people around him have noticed. That means something and he knows it.

“I think I’m done,” you say after a bit.

“Yeah? Let’s see this work of art then.”

He sits up, bends closer to his leg to get a look at your handiwork. He’s silent at first and it makes you nervous.

“What do you think?”

“It’s perfect,” he says.

You know it’s far from perfect. The lines aren’t even, nor are they all straight. But he says it like he means it, believes it, so you let yourself smile at that.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m super sure.”

He wouldn’t have ever picked out the sun for himself, but knowing that you would has his walls crumbling even more—if that’s even possible with you.

He does the cleaning and the wrapping, and you’re happy to observe. Just as he’s finishing up, Robin and Nancy walk in, Steve not far behind.

“I leave you guys for not even an hour, and now you have a tattoo?” Robin says, though she doesn’t even sound surprised.

Eddie thinks his feelings swell and grow every single time he sees you, and he thinks they might just boil over and pour out of him before he even gets to figure out what to say. That won’t do. You deserve more than that.

You deserve to be taken on a date, to be appreciated and taken care of properly, and that’s what he needs to do. The only problem is, he has no idea how to go about it all.

There’s only one person he can think of who will know exactly what to do. The expert in dating; Steve. Eddie calls him into his office.

“What’s up, boss?” Steve says, leaning against the doorway the way he always does.

“Close the door, would you?”

“Shit. Am I in trouble? I may have spilled some ink the other day but you can barely even see it, swears.”

Eddie shakes his head, making note to take a look around his station later. He’s used to Steve’s clumsiness, though, it’s part of the reason he wanted dark floors in the shop.

“No. That’s not- I need your help.”

“Oh. Okay, hit me.”

“I want to ask her out. I just don’t really know, um, where to take her or whatever.”

Eddie doesn’t even have to say your name for Steve to know who he’s talking about. He’s painfully aware that he’s been quite obvious with his affections, especially ever since the night you had sex. He’s always itching to have his hands on you in some way, stealing you away from other conversations, all of it.

That night was like a wake up call for him, a bucket of cold water dumped over his head. He knew there was something about you before that, but it became concrete.

He’d never felt so connected to someone, nor had he been so eager to take care of them afterwards. Hell, he’s never even slept in the same bed as his hookups. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s slept over at all. Then, there was you, asking him to stay and he couldn’t say no to you. He didn’t want to, either.

“You know her better than I do, man. But, flowers, you gotta do. They love that. Do you know her favorites?”

Eddie shakes his head.

“That’s fine. Get a good mix. Other than that, you should just be honest, that’s what Robin always tells me,” he shrugs. “Why don’t you just call her now?”

“I don’t know about that.”

“Come on! She’s gonna say yes. She gives you those lovey-dovey eyes all the time.”

“Okay, that’s enough. Out.”

“Not even a thank you?”

“Thanks, Steve. Bye.”

Steve rolls his eyes as he leaves Eddie’s office, shutting the door behind him again. He, along with Nancy and Robin, knows that you and Eddie will end up together, it’s obvious to everyone except you two, they only want to help it along.

Eddie really hopes that their pestering will be worth it in the end. That you’ll feel the same.

He stares at the phone sitting on his desk for what feels like ages before he musters up the courage to actually call you. He had your file open on his desk, your number written out on one of the forms. He finally picks up the phone and dials it.

Luckily, you weren’t at work. You’d been thinking of Eddie more and more each day it seemed. How he looked at you, the secret smiles that he saved just for you, the way he touched you, the way he felt-

The phone ringing cuts off your train of thought. You walk over and pick it up, prepared for it to be Robin or Nancy since they’re the only ones that ever call you besides your boss. The voice on the other line is neither of them.

“Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart. It’s Eddie.”

As close as you’ve gotten, for some reason, no phone numbers have been exchanged. You wish they had been, because hearing his voice crackle through the phone is a much nicer sound than most.

“Eddie, hi. How’d you get my number?”

He twists one of his rings around with his thumb. He’s glad you can’t actually see him, because you’d surely be able to tell that he’s nervous.

“It’s on file in the shop. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I like talking to you,” you say, soft and sincere. “What’s up?”

“I, uh,” he shakes his head, trying to figure out exactly what to say. “Are you busy tonight?”

“No, I’m not. Do you guys want to do something?”

“Not exactly,” he says.

Your heart beats quicker in your chest, because you think he’s about to ask you out, maybe. If not that, then at least ask you to do something with just him, which is close enough for you to consider it a win. You smile like an idiot.

He clears his throat and continues, “I wanted to know if you’d want to go out… with me.”

It’s happening, you think. Something is shifting as you speak, the feelings you’ve tried to suppress for so long are itching to come out.

“Like a date?” You ask. Just to be sure.

“Yeah, moon girl. Like a date.”

“I’d really, really like that, Eddie.”

He thinks you can probably hear the smile in his voice when he says, “yeah? Me too.”

He tells you he’ll pick you up, to wear whatever you like, not to worry about being over or underdressed, ‘you’ll look pretty either way, trust me,’ he’d said.

When you hang up, you’re trying not to jump around and squeal like a thirteen year old. It’s difficult to contain your excitement, your nerves, your hope. It feels as if a door is opening. A door to more nights like that night, more mornings with shared breakfast, more kissing, more than friends. More, more, more.

Meanwhile, Eddie’s wondering how he’ll get through the rest of the work day when his head is filled with the promise of seeing you.

After much debating on what to wear, no thanks to Eddie’s sweet yet vague instructions, the buzzer sounds in your apartment. You make your way over, one shoe on, the other in your hand. You press the button and speak.

“Hello?”

“Hey, moon girl.”

“Eddie,” he only said three words and you’re already smiling. “Come on up.”

You rush to get your other shoe on, luckily finishing up just as he knocks on your door. There’s a moment where you’re almost expecting someone else to be on the other side, to have been dreaming the whole date up. Luckily, it’s real.

Eddie stands in the hall, pretty as ever. His hair is in its usual mess of waves and curls, his classic leather jacket and denim vest duo are on, and in his hand, a bouquet of flowers.

He notices you looking at them and holds them out, “these are for you.”

“This is really nice, Eddie. Thank you.”

You take them from him, holding them up to your nose to smell them (and also to hide how wide your grin is). He stands by the door, a ball of nerves, and watches you put them into a big cup, because you never had a reason to buy a vase until now. He decides next time, he’ll deliver the flowers in a vase just so you have one.

He holds your hand on the way down, opens the car door for you and makes sure your legs are tucked inside before closing it, he tells you in at least three different ways how beautiful you look during the car ride alone, and he drives with a hand resting on your thigh, your fingers toying with his rings.

He’s an absolute dream.

He takes you to a small restaurant, fancy enough for a date—though you think being with Eddie, no matter where, would be enough for you—but casual enough that you aren’t too worried about the people around you being judgemental. You sit in a booth and instead of across, Eddie sits beside you. He keeps a hand on your thigh during your meal, too.

In his car once more, you’re sitting in the parking lot with music playing through the speakers. Eddie hasn’t made a move to start driving you yet, and you haven’t even thought about going home. You haven’t ever been on an official date before, but if you had, you’d say with absolute certainty that this is the best one.

You sit sideways in the passenger seat so you can look at him, and Eddie’s head is turned toward you, his cheek against the headrest.

“Have you had a girlfriend before?” You ask.

You don’t know why the thought comes out of your mouth. You’d been thinking it, though. Robin’s always hinting at how different he is with you, at the fact that Eddie’s never brought a girl he’s liked around his friends. You’re curious.

“No, I haven’t. Why do you seem surprised?”

“It’s just, you’re really good at this.”

“At what, sweetheart?”

“Like, going on a date. And… other stuff, too.”

He shifts in his seat, resting an elbow on the center console and leaning closer to you. Much, much closer. Your noses are almost touching and you can see the way his eyelashes frame his eyes.

He nudges his nose against yours, “what stuff?”

You know he’s teasing you, trying to make you give him more detail because it’ll make you go all shy or embarrassed. To him, it’s cute, and he’s been trying not to kiss you all night. He was going to wait until he dropped you off like a proper gentleman, but he figures making it through dinner is good enough.

“Eddie,” you draw his name out, almost whining.

“Tell me. Come on, please? You can’t just bring it up and not share.”

The hand of his that isn’t resting between you comes up to push your hair over your shoulder, then slides around to hold the back of your neck loosely.

“God, okay. Um, you’re a good kisser. Like, really good,” he leans in and pecks you for that, pulling away just enough to let you keep talking, your lips still brushing against his. “And, I love your hands.”

“My hands?”

“They’re very talented. You know, ‘cause you’re an artist, and all.”

He huffs and shakes his head. Enough of the teasing, he leans in and kisses you deeper this time. Your hands move and grip the sides of his jacket, holding him close to you.

You kiss, and kiss, and kiss, and it’s enough to have you panting and warm all over. His hand squeezes your neck gently before he pulls away, his lips slick with spit, swollen and darker from your kiss. You’re sure yours don’t look much different.

Eddie drops his forehead against yours, takes both of your hands in his, “do you want to go home?”

You shake your head.

“Can I show you my place, then?”

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”

He’s not saying it to get you in his bed, though there’s no doubt that would be a bonus, but he doesn’t want this date to end. There’s also a part of him that wants to see you in his apartment, let you into more of his life.

He’s only ever been to yours, and he doesn’t have the whole group over at his, so you’ve never seen it. He thinks, if he’s really going to give this a shot, he might as well let another wall crumble down for you.

The drive there is fairly quick, and yet again, his hand finds your thigh. This time, though, he lets his fingers hold on, rather than just rest in your lap. You like it a lot.

Eddie’s apartment isn’t what you expect. You thought it’d be decorated like the shop: dark colors, black and white art, hints of red. His place is much warmer, much homier. It suits him perfectly.

He has a huge record collection, a whole wall of his living room dedicated to the shelves and the player itself. He also has a shelf for his books. Some more worn than others, letting you know which are his favorites of the bunch.

You trail your fingers along the spines, admiring his collection. He lets you, standing not too far away, enjoying how you look in his space.

His bathroom is much like yours, small and plain, but it’s tidy save for some products of his strewn about the counter. His bedroom is so obviously his that it makes you smile. From the rings and other jewelry sitting atop his dresser, to his dark gray bedding, to the guitars that are displayed proudly, to the desk pushed into a corner with pages upon pages spread about.

You gravitate towards that desk without a second thought.

There’s something so intimate about seeing his art station in his home, much different to his office at the shop. Here, he can let it be a mess, and can draw whatever he pleases.

“Is it okay if I look at these?” You ask.

“‘Course,” he says. He walks up behind you, lets his hands hold your sides loosely and rests his chin on your shoulder. You revel in the warmth of his chest against your back.

You pick up some of the loose pages, looking at the different pieces. Skulls and flowers and landscapes and so much more. He can do it all, you think. You can see so much detail, the strokes of his pencil, and it’s clear how much talent he has.

“These are all beautiful, Eddie.”

He turns his head to peck your cheek, “thank you, sweetheart.”

You reach for a worn sketchbook next, the cover peeling at the edges and the pages nearly full. It flips open to where it seems to have been used the most, the spine broken. What you see makes you gasp quietly, but Eddie’s close enough to hear it.

Covering the pages are drawings of the moon. Over and over again he drew them. Some are big, taking up an entire page, and some are scrawled into corners and empty spaces, like he couldn’t stop adding them. All of these drawings for your tattoo, and he’d only shown you a few.

“It’s weird, right?” Eddie says, hiding his face in your neck.

If he’s honest, he forgot that sketchbook was even there. He couldn’t forget about the drawings you found—you’d taken up so much of his thoughts after meeting that he couldn’t stop drawing the fucking moon for you. There are so many and he’s embarrassed by it, because he really was screwed after the first day even when he refused to see it.

“No, it’s- these are all for me?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking ‘bout you, so I drew these,” he speaks into your skin. “I was trying to avoid my feelings for you, but clearly, that didn’t work. You wouldn’t get out of my head and I had no idea why.”

You turn in his hold, leaving the sketchbook open on his desk. You look at him, the way his cheeks are pink at your finding of his drawings, the way his eyes flick between yours.

“I love them. Every single one,” I love you. “I thought about you a lot, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. So much. You made me nervous at first,” you admit, your hands fiddling with the collar of his shirt.

“I’m not used to, um, opening up to people and all. I’ve never even been in a relationship,” his hands come up and grab yours, like he needs the comfort. “You make me want to try, though.”

You have to say it. There’s no way you can’t, not when he’s looking at you with those eyes filled with something.

“I love you, Eddie,” his eyes widen, he freezes. “You don’t have to say it back or anything, I just really needed to tell you. You’re the first sense of comfort I’ve found since I moved, and I don’t think I would have felt at home without you and I love you.”

No matter how scared he is to be with you, because he wants to be someone worth being with and he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he can’t ignore the fact that he loves you right back. And he hasn’t said those words to many people in his life.

It’s big for him, so big that he’s stumbling over his words but he tries anyway.

“Oh my god,” he kisses your knuckles, “I love you, sweetheart. My moon girl, fuck, I love you, too. I’ve never done this before, but there’s nobody else I’d want. Nobody.”

You feel so many things at once. Relief and happiness and a thousand fireworks in your gut and in your heart. You grab his face with your hands and drag him down to kiss you.

It’s broken by your smiles, your teeth bumping into each other but neither of you care one bit. He holds your wrists gently, returns your kiss with ease. He’s delicate with his touch, so, so perfect with his lips on yours.

He only pulls away to ask, “will you be mine? Be my girlfriend?”

You nod vehemently, “been yours since you kissed me the first time. Probably even before that.”

You’re not worried about the ‘told you so’s you’re sure to get from your friends, or what happens next because you know whatever it is, Eddie’s gonna be there.

“Think you had me the minute you started talking ‘bout the moon.” He just didn’t know it yet.

༄

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2chopsticks2eyes · 1 year

Text

Anger Management

2chopsticks2eyes - Masterlist

Pairing: Lee Minho/Lee Know x Han Jisung/Han x Fem Reader

Themes: Smut, Angst, Fluff

Word Count: ~19.5k | AO3

Warnings: Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Alcohol, Cussing, Oral Sex, Hand Jobs, Vaginal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Alternate Universe, Phone Sex, Anal Sex, Vaginal Sex, Protected/Unprotected Sex, One mention of previous sexual assault

Summary: When reader is given a court order to attend anger management classes, the last thing she expects is to become even more angry than before. It’s all thanks to a certain Lee Minho. Jisung intervenes in… interesting ways…

Author's Note: I want to start of first by apologizing to you guys for the delayed content. Some shit has slowed down my writing lately so hopefully it will pick up again soon. Next, this is for my lovely baby @lyramundana and her long awaited request. I hope you like it honey!

__________________________________________

He thought you were actually really fucking talented. Like outrageously so.

Like, yeah you were only a solo act and just an amateur opening for them, but Jisung couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Every stroke over your guitar strings emanated such emotion that Jisung couldn’t help but feel like he was deeply connected with you and your song.

An acoustic opening act was a bit odd for his rap group 3RACHA, but he had no complaints. Besides, this was just a small dive bar that usually only hosted other musicians, ones of all genres. After he, Chan, and Changbin finished their act, Jisung’s eyes involuntarily swept the establishment in hopes to find you and express how much he enjoyed your act.

Luckily enough, he and his two bandmates saddled up with a large group that was talking up some nonsensical chatter that you happened to be a part of. The three of them were pretty well known at this establishment, so introductions were passed around and he found your shy smile to be absolutely beautiful.

The more you talked, the more you reminded him of his boyfriend, Minho.

Jisung’s mind was always on Minho 24/7. It was a problem really, but everywhere he looked he would always think ‘I should show Minho this’ or ‘I wonder if Minho would like that’. It was pretty freaking adorable to everyone else, but Chan and Changbin teased him relentlessly for it.

It was one such involuntary thought that popped into his mind now. I bet Minho would like this girl.

Jisung didn’t necessarily get the chance to talk to you one on one, but he couldn’t help but notice that your gaze often met his own and you would blush furiously and look away rapidly with a cute shy smile.

Unfortunately, you had to leave sooner than Jisung had expected, but he offered a quick compliment about your performance before you stepped away from the group with a grateful wave and retreated toward the exit.

Jisung smiled to himself as you walked away and thought to himself. Maybe I can bring hyung here next time and see if she comes. I think he would be more successful in gaining the courage to talk to her alone.

Now, with his soulmate on his mind, he couldn’t wait to get home to his gorgeous boyfriend and tell him all about the night.

__________________________________________

“It’s very nice to meet you, young lady. Since you are new to the group, please give us a brief description of why it is that you have come here today.” You huffed at the class instructor’s response to your introduction, your mood already being foul for having to wake up so early on a Saturday.

You wouldn’t say you were necessarily an angry person, just somewhat… high-strung. That is why it pissed you the fuck off that you were given a court order to attend anger management classes twice a week for a month.

You rolled your eyes as you stood next to your chair in a group full of strangers that had their own problems to deal with and didn’t have any business in having you air out your dirty laundry in front of them. “Is that really necessary?” You said with clenched teeth to the instructor.

“Recognition is the first step to identifying where your stressors lay.” Fucking smartass response.

You huffed once more before crossing your arms and standing straight to contain yourself. “My stressors are blatantly clear. Because apparently, according to public law enforcement, it is considered mutinous to bash your ex’s face in with a guitar. Even if the bastard was fucking some chick in your own goddamned bed and all he got away with was a tiny fractured nose and some blue balls.”

Your eyes were clenched shut from the fury in your statement, but they snapped open real quick when you heard a sudden chuckling from the other side of the circle. The man had warm brown hair and wore a black button-up with the sleeves rolled up. It was hard not to notice his powerful-looking thighs through his black ripped jeans, but you reestablished eye contact. Even that proved to be difficult due to the fact that his face looked like it belonged to a carefully crafted marble sculpture by a legendary artist.

“Something funny?” You couldn’t hide the venom in your tone as you forced yourself to glare at the man who was so rudely laughing at your predicament.

Instead of getting defensive of your attack, he just offered you a petty smirk. Albeit beautiful, it was still petty. “Nothing at all, please, do continue. I feel like we were just getting to the good part.” He said with an amused smile.

You felt steam rise in your ears and you narrowed your eyes at him. “What? Is your life so shitty that you must find entertainment in other's problems?” He lifted an amused eyebrow, the rest of the class dead silent as you two stared each other down. “Well, unlike you, I came here because I defended myself. When I’m sure you came because you were the abuser!” You blurted in your fit of rage and defense.

He shot out of his chair in a flash, any sign of amusement gone as you both glared into each other’s eyes with fury. “What the fuck did you just sa–?”

“Minho-ssi, please sit down immediately! Ma’am, you are finished as well. We are here to face our own problems, not stir up more.” After some grumbling and a few choice words said under your breath, both of you quietly sat down, but the glaring contest failed to waver the entire time.

Your first class was filled with feelings and trauma and pain and by the end of it, you were basically bolting out the door to wait for your ride.

You leaned up against the exterior of the building and fished a cigarette out of your purse. You knew it was a nasty habit, really disgusting actually, but after quitting for so long and having all this shit happen to you, you needed some type of stress relief.

You wrapped your lips around it and cupped your hand around the flame to avoid the breeze from the autumn air extinguishing it before you could actually light up the cancer stick. You took a huge drag from it and watched as the smoke twisted and twirled its way through the wind.

Why did you have to be here? It was his fault you were forced to come. That bastard got to fuck some random bitch and you got sentenced with a court order? How fucked up is that…

What really hurts is that you trusted him… you had been with him for a whole year, one of the longest relationships you had been in up to that point. That was an entire year of your life that you could never get back. How was he so willing to throw it all away for some quick fuck? You felt the water rise in your eyes and chalked it up to being from the cold breeze.

You sucked in a long puff again and saw ‘Minho’, or whatever in hell the instructor called him, walk past you with a taunting smirk directed at you. Without stopping or slowing down, he directed a short, “Smoking kills,” thrown in your direction.

“Tell it to someone who cares, asshole.” You spat at him as you flipped him off for good measure. He just continued to walk and you heard a light chuckle come from his plump lips.

On the bright side, he took you out of your spiraling thoughts by pissing you off again. You glared daggers at him as you watched him walk over to his ride and give a long peck on the lips to who you assumed to be his driver just standing outside waiting for him.

However, instead of hopping in the car and leaving, you saw Minho eye you and smirk as he said something to his partner. When the other man turned around to look at you, most likely because Minho was talking shit, you froze and the cigarette fell from your fingers to the ground like an ashy flurry in the wind.

Han Jisung.

That’s what he said his name was, right? Surely it was because you remembered not being able to take your eyes off of him the entire night before your violent breakup. He was so gorgeous and adorable that you could have talked to him all night and wouldn’t have been able to get over his beauty. Sure you were emotional and available that night, but he made no move to personally talk to you.

And now you knew why.

You tried to push aside the fact that he probably didn’t remember who you were and realized it kind of pissed you off that the couple looked so drop-dead gorgeous together. You composed yourself when you realized you were shamelessly checking out Minho’s boyfriend and you knew he noticed because you noted the cocky-ass smile that was painted on Minho’s features as he looked back at you and wrapped his arm around Jisung’s waist and planted a kiss on his cheek just to rub it in.

The boiling rage in you subsided when you heard your ride yell out his car window to get a move on. You escaped the stares from the men and stamped out your cigarette with the toe of your shoe before booking it to hop in the car.

“Ew, please don’t tell me you’re smoking again…” Your best friend and roommate Seungmin said as he wrinkled his nose from the smell of you.

“Can-it, Seung. I’m not in the mood today.” You huffed as you buckled your seatbelt.

He clicked his tongue and faced you before starting up the car. “Bitch, you’re never in the mood. Don’t tell me whether or not to be concerned for my friend.” You showed him an exasperated eye roll and he continued. “Don’t give me that shit. I know you’ve been going through it, but really. It’s not a desirable trait, babe.” And with that, he set off to take you home.

“And who said I want to be desirable? At this point, I’ll end my youth by giving up on all dating whatsoever. Especially if the super hot ones are secretly douchebags.” Your mind took you to Minho and how smitten he looked with Jisung. “Like, shit. It’s like I can’t escape any of the asshats in the world. Even in this stupid fucking class!”

Seungmin looked at you sympathetically and patted your knee. “Don’t worry about them, yeobo. They are just pieces of shit because they’ve got their own stuff going on. Don’t take it too personally.”

You sighed and leaned your head up against the window. “Easier said than done, Seung.”

__________________________________________

The following Wednesday morning was your next session and you sat as far away as humanly possible from Minho. However, it kind of backfired when you realized that it put you on the direct opposite end of the circle from the little shit, making it impossible to ignore him while he was directly in your line of vision.

“Okaaay, good morning everyone! It looks like everyone’s here, let’s begin! How has everyone been since our last session?” She had a bright smile on her face and was way too peppy for eight o’clock in the morning. You, on the other hand, were warming your hands with the necessary cup of coffee you needed to get through the class.

After what felt like an eternity of listening to the other patron’s rambling, you were surprised to see the usually non participating Minho raise his hand. The instructor seemed shocked as well. “Oh! Minho-ssi! Please, go ahead!” Again, way too cheerful.

“My apologies, teach. But aren’t food and drinks prohibited in this class?” He didn’t break eye contact with you throughout the entire, headass sentence that spewed from his lips.

You cowered in your seat when the whole class turned to look directly at you. “Ah, yes. Ehm… I’m sorry sweetie, but you’ll have to throw that away…” You looked absolutely baffled.

“Seriously? It’s just one fucking cup of coffee!” The rising anger seeped through your words. That motherfucker…

The instructor looked to you imploringly. “I know, I know. But take a deep breath. It IS just ONE cup of coffee. Nothing to get worked up over, yeah? How about we all take a fifteen break and you can finish it outside, okay?”

Instead of responding, you stood up out of your chair and marched to the front door.

Coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other, you nestled yourself even further into your coat, attempting to retain any heat that was being siphoned away from you in the late fall weather. You closed your eyes after taking a large gulp and a long drag, trying to control your breathing so you wouldn’t march in there and pummel that asshole into the ground.

“Still smoking, huh?” You squeaked and jumped at the voice that was suddenly right next to you, causing you to drop your cigarette. Fucking again??

You held your hand over your heart and muttered ‘motherfucker’ under your breath as you collected yourself. The man of the hour just stood there with a smirk on his face.

“Aw, what is it, princess? Not happy to see me?” He said patronizingly with a head tilt that you refused to acknowledge as cute. You glowered at the man and aggressively stamped out your cigarette with your boot and, without a word, you looked him dead in the eye as you made a show to throw away your coffee. With an amused smile on his lips, you brushed past him to go back inside, aggressively shoving his shoulder in the process.

The class was agonizingly slow as you tried your hardest to not give in to Minho’s silent taunts the whole time. When you were, once again, waiting for your ride out front, you stiffened as you felt a presence saddle up to stand next to you. “Minho, I’ve had enough of your shit to last a lifetime. You can kindly fuck right off.” You muttered as you refused to look at him.

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” When you refused to respond to him, he deliberately stepped in your line of vision and you could feel your blood boil once again. “I’m surprised to see your cigaretteless hands. They’re quite pretty that way.” He smirked.

“Well, you’re pretty fucking annoying! My bad habits are none of your concern!” In the back of your mind, you recognized you were raising your voice, but you were too caught up in the moment to even give a damn.

“So you admit it’s a bad habit?” He raised a brow at you and you huffed a sarcastic laugh.

“I have no problem admitting that. I even quit for a while, but I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“Why’d you start again?”

You looked at him incredulously. “I said it’s none of your goddamned business! Why the fuck are you even talking to me?!” Your arms made a grand gesture to drive the point across.

“I think it’s entertaining as hell to piss you off.” There was no hesitation in his statement as he looked down at you with pure amusement in his eyes.

“You–!” You heard a throat clear from beside you and you jolted a tiny bit. Now that you had your angry tunnel vision cleared, you noticed a couple of things. First, Jisung was the one that had silently approached. And second, you found that, in your fit of rage, you and Minho had gravitated dangerously close.

You basically jumped back and cleared your own throat to compose yourself as you resumed your previous post. “Hi!” You looked at Jisung with wide eyes as he greeted you. “I see you’ve met my temperamental boyfriend.” He chuckled as he looked at said man with adoration in his eyes and, for some reason, it made you feel… lonely.

“Oh, um, yeah...” Oh yeah, reeeal intelligent response. You thought as you internally rolled your eyes at yourself.

He chuckled and you thought his smile warmed the entire ten-yard radius around you. “You don’t remember me, do you?” He said a bit bashfully as he looked down with a small smile.

Your eyes popped open even wider and you waved your hands in front of yourself in denial. “N-no! Of course, I remember you! Jisung, right? From 3RACHA?”

He instantly lit up again and Minho shifted uncomfortably. “The one and only! I was afraid I didn’t leave a good enough impression for you to remember.” Again, Jisung said with a shy smile.

“Far from it! It’s hard to forget such talent. Really!” Jisung lit up even more at your words.

“Okay, what the fuck is happening? How do you two know each other?” Minho said, interjecting rather rudely if you do say so yourself. Your mood instantly soured again.

“Shush, jagi. Don’t be so rude. I met her at our usual bar where me and the guys perform. She opened for us a couple of weeks ago. You should hear her sing, she’s phenomenal! Plus, she plays the guitar like an angel.”

You blushed and looked down, failing to hide a smile from your lips. “Oh, I wouldn’t say it like that…” You humbly offered.

“Is this the famous guitar you bashed your boyfriend’s face in with?” Minho asked while failing to repress his laugh.

“You what?!” Han said as he looked at you with shocked eyes.

You glowered at Minho and huffed. “I think you mean EX boyfriend. And, not that it’s any of your business, but yes, I broke his nose along with my favorite guitar. Now I regret not using something else to swing at that fucker.” You crossed your arms and cast your gaze away from the two, feeling the regret return all over again from hurting your precious instrument.

“Ahhh, so that’s why I haven’t seen you around there lately. What a shame. That guitar was a real beauty.” You just sighed and nodded your head in defeat as you returned your attention to Jisung. “Well, in the meantime, if you want to borrow my guitar I’d happily lend it to you.”

His smile was genuine and your eyes widened. “What?! N-no, I could never! I mean, that’s very kind of you, but there’s no way I’d be able to be comfortable with someone else's guitar…” You were exasperated but mumbled a few last words. “I guess it would feel a bit too… intimate?” You had your eyes glued to the ground but you spared a look up at him.

He bit his lip with a smile and Minho’s face also housed an expression that made you feel suddenly hot with embarrassment. Jisung took a step closer to you and put a hand on your shoulder. “Well, the offer stands if you change your mind.” He said with a crooked smile, making you a bit faint for a moment before you composed yourself and looked back at his eyes and offered a small smile and a nod.

“Okay, well as much as I would love to stand here and watch you eye fuck each other, we’ve got places to be. C’mon Hannie baby.” Minho made a move to grab Jisung’s hand and you watched them interlace fingers as Jisung showed Minho a teasing smile and pressed his side into him.

“Oh? Would you rather have her eye fuck you?” Minho’s eyes went wide and he instinctually glanced at you before returning them to his boyfriend. “I mean, look at her, hyung…” Jisung directed him and his boyfriends attention toward you again and you were sure you were as red as a tomato as he talked. “Isn’t she gorgeous?” Jisung’s taunting eyes moved over you and slowly turned more serious. “Talented too.”

Before you even knew how to react, Jisung wrapped one of his arms around his boyfriend and then the other around you, making you freeze in shock at his boldness. He huddled the three of you close, as if he were about to tell a secret.

“Should I tell her what you told me about her yesterday? About how all she needs is to be tamed by filling her mouth with a huge, pulsating co–”

Jisung was cut off when Minho slapped a hand over his mouth and fixed him with a deadly glare. However, when he was released, Jisung broke out in contagious giggles that transferred over to your own mouth. Jisung released both of you as he held his stomach in a fit of laughter.

You peeked at Minho with a hand over your mouth, partially from laughter and partially to hide the pure astonishment from his alleged comment. When he met eyes with you, he scowled and addressed Jisung without backing down on his intense glare. “Are you fucking happy now? C’mon, Sung, we’re going.” Without waiting for an answer, Minho then proceeded to drag his giddy boyfriend to the parking lot as Jisung winked goodbye at you.

Little did you know, Seungmin had seen the whole thing. You sighed and groaned internally. Well, this is going to be interesting…

Once you had prepared yourself for the onslaught of questioning, you hopped in the car as the man drove you home and did, indeed, grill you for details.

__________________________________________

What the fuck was his problem? Minho had been staring daggers into you the entire first half of class and you couldn’t fathom why. He was always the one pissing you off. That fucker had no right to be pissed! (Even if he looked extremely sexy over there, slumped in his chair with his full focus on you. Lips parted and brows furrowed.)

Under different circumstances, you’d be on your knees in a heartbeat if someone looked at you like that.

During break, you went outside and habitually lit a cigarette. You needed some distraction from the fiery ball of rage that was Lee Minho.

Right as you took your first drag, a hand swooped out and grabbed it from you. You watched in outrage as Minho threw the barely-used cancer stick on the ground and stomped it out. Your revolted expression whipped to face him and burned into his eyes. Before you could breathe a word, he bracketed you up against the wall, effectively stealing the air from your lungs and stunning you to silence.

“I bet you thought that was pretty fucking funny yesterday, huh?” He growled from just inches away from your face.

You huffed a scoff that didn’t show on your frozen face. “What? Watching your face turn an adorable shade of pink? Yeah, I thought it was pretty fucking funny.” You refused to back down. “In fact, I sympathize with what you said yesterday. I, too, find it amusing as hell to piss you off.”

Even though he already had you pressed up against the wall, he inched his beautiful face even closer to you. Definitely not thinking about how cute the freckle on his nose is or plump his lips are or how you could feel his breath on your lips or how his eyes held galaxies in them as he stared into your soul… Yeah, DEFINITELY none of that was on your mind…

“Well congratulations, you succeeded.” His brows furrowed more and you smirked.

“What? It’s not my fault you were having naughty thoughts about me.” Your eyes involuntarily flitted down to his lips and you watched in stunned silence as his eyes did the same.

You both realized how close you had gotten, almost pressed against each other, before he quickly stepped back and cleared his throat. “I… I didn’t… You just… Ugh!” He stumbled over his words for a response and just ended up storming away and back into the building.

From glaring at you the entire first half, he now wouldn’t dare look you in the eye. He almost looked like he was pouting and you couldn’t help but find it a little cute…

For some reason, on your way out after class, you saw the instructor call for Minho to stay behind. You didn’t find it necessary to snoop, so you went on your merry way, only to run face-first into Jisung as soon as you got outside.

“Woah! Hey there, gorgeous!” He said with a bright smile as he held you by the arms to stabilize you from your crash into him. You looked down and blushed with a smile, a bit intimidated by having his full attention. You felt a bit more at ease once he released you.

“H-Hi Jisung. I think Minho’s talking to the instructor.” You explained, thinking he was wondering where his boyfriend was.

“Oh, okay! Well, how’ve you been since I saw you last week? I know you’ve been on Min’s mind an awful lot.” He said casually with a chuckle.

What? No way.

“Are we talking about the same Minho? The one who almost throttled me for laughing at him last week?” You huffed a half-chuckle in disbelief and raised a brow.

“He almost did what now?” He sounded shocked but intrigued all the same.

“Yeah! He pushed me up against the wall during break time and grilled me!”

Jisung’s face grew a wry smile and he stepped an inch closer. “Oh he did, did he? Very interesting…” You were a bit apprehensive considering his tone. His eyes darted over your shoulder briefly before looking back at you and digging in his pocket. You were a bit dumbfounded when he held his phone out to you.

“Well, while he’s standing in the doorway watching us…” He said, trying to suppress his smile. You had to force yourself to not look behind you. “Give me your number and I promise we can rile him up a bit more, yeah?”

A smile slowly bloomed on your face and you tentatively took the phone from him. “I like the way you think, my friend.” You tapped away your contact on his phone and saved your name as ‘Angry Bitch’ with a smug smile.

He guffawed as he read it and briefly sent you a text to share his number as well, naming himself in-text ‘Sexy Quokka’. You shared a small giggle yourself and were startled when you felt gentle fingers brush across your cheek. “You have such a pretty smile…” He said with a soft grin that made your ears instantly turn red.

You were knocked from your reverie when you felt a not-so-gentle hand grab your shoulder and quickly spin you around. “Are you just trying to get on my bad side?” You crossed your arms and raised a brow at him in defiance.

“Does that mean you actually have a good side? I’m shocked!” You exclaimed in mock surprise.

The side of his lip curled up in an outrageous sneer. Again, he came within an inch of your face. “What the fuck is your deal?! First, you rat me out to the teacher and said I was being violent during break–” What?? “And now you decide to start whoring around my boyfriend?!”

Ouch.

Whore. That word cut you deep. Some people found it hot during sex, others just think it’s another word. For you, it was what your ex would constantly berate you as. Any time you came home late from work? Whore. If you told him you wanted to actually orgasm during sex? Whore. If you even glanced at another man. Whore. Whore. Whore.

It felt like a punch to the gut to hear those words from Minho’s mouth and he seemed to notice as he backed off and furrowed his brows. You felt the stupid, angry tears well up in your eyes. Angry from his words and angry with how Minho and Jisung were looking at you now. Surprise. Regret. Concern.

“H-Hey… I didn’t mea–” You refused to let Minho finish the sentence as you turned around and started walking.

“Wait! Please don’t go!” You heard Jisung say right before you shut the door to Seungmin’s car.

“Everything alri–”

“Just go. Please.” You said calmly to avoid Seungmin’s questioning and, thankfully, he got the hint as the two of you drove home in silence.

__________________________________________

You didn’t feel like going to your next class, too afraid to encounter Minho. But the instructor wasn’t having it. After you missed class, you got a call from her reminding you that this was a court order and you were required to complete the entire course.

So, with that in mind, you sluggishly dragged yourself out of bed the following class, not giving two shits that you were arriving late, and slumped down in the only chair available.

Right. Next. To. Minho.

You refused to look at him. Refused to acknowledge his existence, even, as the lesson went on. When your break started, you bolted to the bathroom to hide before he could get a single word out. Not for a lack of trying…

You could feel his eyes burn into you the entirety of the second half of class, too. Just when you were about to bolt again when class was dismissed, you felt a gentle hand grab your wrist. “Please. Just… just hear me out…” You refused to look at him, but you made no move to leave. You heard him sigh as he released your hand. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s fine.” And that was all you felt the need to say before you turned and left before he could stop you again.

You felt a cold breeze flit past you when you stepped out of the building and you took a deep breath of fresh air, only to run straight into someone when you rounded the corner.

Of. Fucking. Course.

Just like last time, Jisung’s hands grabbed you to stabilize you, but this time he didn’t release you. “Do you make a habit of running into people?” He mused as he flashed a guarded smile at you.

You brushed off his hands and stepped back. “It’s not like I try to. Sorry…” You refused to look him in the eye and you began to walk off, but you were halted by another presence stepping in your path.

And there the couple stood, side by side, fully focused on you as you looked up at them like a kicked puppy. You heard Jisung sigh heavily before you looked at him again.

“Look, please just hear us out. If you still don’t forgive us, I give you permission to slap us silly, okay?” They both looked at you with the most adorable pouty eyes and you crossed your arms.

“Just get on with it…”

Minho let out a large sigh and bit his lip before speaking. “I talked to the teacher and she told me that another classmate saw us outside last week and they were the ones who told her. I…” Your eyes were fixed on his frustrated features as he paused. “I’m sorry I blamed you… And I’m sorry for what I said… I know you’re not a whore, I was just pissed off…”

You winced at the word again and he definitely noticed.

Jisung decided to speak up. “And it’s my fault for riling him up anyway. I’m just sorry I got you stuck in the middle of it…” Jisung looked genuinely apologetic and you slightly slumped in defeat.

However, you tensed up again when you were basically electrocuted by the sensation of Minho resting his hand on your shoulder and looking at you with furrowed brows.

“Look, I just… you make me… I can’t… ugh…” His hand flew to his hair in frustration and your mind betrayed you for wanting to run your hands through those silky chocolate locks yourself. “Look, I don’t know what I’m trying to say… I just–”

“It’s fine.” You said as you calmly cut him off. “It’s nothing, just forget about it.” Your face held no emotion and his brows turned inward.

“I can’t just forget about it… I hurt you…”

You scoffed. “Since when did you care about that? Like I said, just forget it, I definitely know that I want to.” You took note of the frustration and sorrow that was painted across his face and you had to stop yourself from grabbing his hand when he finally released your shoulder.

You froze in place when he, instead, stepped up closer to you and looked down into your eyes. “I do care…” You were speechless. Why in the world would he care about you? You were no one to them.

Jisung stepped closer as well and you felt extremely small under their intimidating towering. “How about we take you out to dinner tonight? As a peace offering?” You narrowed your eyes tentatively and Jisung quickly spoke again. “Y-you can even order the most expensive food and drinks! Completely on us! And we can go wherever you like!”

You giggled at his rambling and you were sure you saw both of them slump in relief as the unwelcome tension that blanketed the area finally lifted. You looked down at your feet (partially to avoid their intense eye contact) and you deliberated.

You barely know these men. It wouldn’t be the brightest idea to go out with complete strangers anyway, let alone one with anger issues! You don’t know what caused it, it could be anything! But… for some reason, they seem trustworthy… Even after what happened last week, Jisung didn’t harass you with constant texts and he respected your distance. And, if you were being honest with yourself, you hadn’t been out in a while and it would be nice to have a free meal and some drinks…

You let out a big sigh and looked back up at them. Fine, what the hell. “What time?” You had to bite back your endeared smile when you witnessed their faces light up in delight. Even if Minho quickly corrected himself and forced himself to look unaffected.

“A-any time you like!” Jisung babbled. “If you want, just text me the time and place and we’ll be there!”

You both looked at Minho after he briefly cleared his throat. “Or… um… we could pick you up at yours? So you don’t have to find a ride… and you’re safe getting home and stuff.” He didn’t look at you as he talked and he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Well this is a new look for him…

Jisung smiled endearingly at him and rubbed his back before looking back at you. “Does that sound alright to you?”

You considered, thinking it would be nice to not have to resort to Seungmin’s help for yet another reason and also while avoiding public transport. You smirked at Minho who had returned his eyes to you. “Okay, but on one condition.” They both looked like they were readying themselves for the worst-case scenario and you giggled. “Minho has to tell me what he did to get into this class.”

Jisung widened his eyes and looked at his boyfriend who seemed as cool as a cucumber. “Deal.” He said confidently and a smile instantly spread across your face. “But only after we get to the restaurant.”

You nodded your head once and stuck out your hand. “Deal.” He looked at your hand tentatively and slowly raised his hand to give you a light shake. His skin felt like a million degrees and you felt a shiver itching to course through your bones, but you remained vigilant in hiding just how much that small touch affected you.

When Minho dropped your hand, Jisung reached out and squeezed your shoulder. “See you later, then, gorgeous.” He quickly shot you a wink and then the pair walked back to their car, hand-in-hand.

“Seungmin, whatever you’re going to say, I would highly advise against it.” You grumbled as you got in the car to be faced with his shit-eating grin.

You narrowed your eyes into slits at his smug smile as he started the car. “Whatever do you mean? I surely wasn’t going to say anything about your intense closeness to those two attractive men and how much you were blushing like a lovesick teenager. I would never!” His voice rang sarcastically.

You felt your blush deepen, but rather than retorting back, you settled for punching his arm and pouting as he laughed at you the entire way back home.

__________________________________________

You anxiously looked at yourself in the mirror and felt stupid. You shouldn’t really care what they thought… They were gay! And taken! And it shouldn’t even matter what you wore! But…

You assessed your wardrobe and couldn’t help but think of what these two extremely attractive men would find most appealing. You decided to wear a short blood-red, tight-fit dress with a low cut that made your boobs look amazing if you do say so yourself. You wore thigh-high black steletto boots and topped it off with a cozy-looking black sweater/cardigan that hung down past the length of your dress so you could appear somewhat modest.

“Well someone’s looking quite spicy tonight. Where are you headed?” Seungmin said with amusement buzzing in his lungs from the door frame to your room.

You just smiled smugly at him. “Your mom’s house, apparently she’s into women now.” You winked at him and you saw him roll his eyes exaggeratingly before turning back to the mirror.

“Well, I’m gonna spend the night at Jeongin’s place tonight so you can have the place to yourself and… whatever poor soul you’re going to be tormenting tonight.” You quickly turned and threw one of your makeup brushes at him before he scampered out of the room with a cute giggle.

You were just putting on the final touches of your makeup when you heard the doorbell ring. You whipped your head around and saw Seungmin in the hallway giving you that same Cheshire smile before he walked off to answer the door.

Shit.

You grabbed your purse and chased after him to stop the impending disaster, but it was too late… “Oh shit! I’m sorry, I must have the wrong apartment!” Jisung said as he leaned back to look at the door number while Minho stared speculatively at Seungmin.

“No no no! You have the right one! Coming!” Your mouth poured out before you brushed past Seungmin and out the door to join the two men with flabbergasted faces who were shamelessly checking you out. Odd… “Later Seung!” You shot behind you to your roommate before dragging Minho and Jisung outside by their arms.

“Woah woah woah! Slow it down, why don’t you?” Minho said, pulling his hand out of your grasp once you were out of the building. You stopped and turned around to look at him challengingly, but your mindset screeched to a halt when you looked at the pair standing side by side.

They were drop-dead gorgeous. I mean, they had god-like beauty on an average day but now? Now they had outdone themselves.

Jisung had on a neat, white button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show off his toned forearms. His baggy jeans were of a designer brand and his hair was styled off his face to show ce his impeccable skin in full force.

Minho, on the other hand, was wearing a black, knit sweater with a deep V cut that was outlined with gaps in the knitting that showed off his impeccable pecs. His black pants were super tight fit and your eyes widened when you saw the size of his muscular thighs. His hair was slightly wavy and disheveled which gave him an even sexier demeanor.

Both of them had a dusting of makeup and you couldn’t help but blatantly run your eyes over the entirety of them. Thankfully, neither of them noticed because they were also wearing similar expressions as their gaze roved over your body.

You swallowed thickly and decided to break the silence. “You… You guys clean up nice…” You cursed yourself for sounding so breathless.

Jisung blinked rapidly as if he was dropped back into reality and he cleared his throat. “Are you kidding me? Have you seen yourself?! You’re absolutely gorgeous! Minnie, look at her!” He said as he swatted his boyfriend’s arm.

“Oh trust me, I’m looking…” Minho said so low you almost missed it. Watching him look at you with fire in his eyes made your insides turn. When he seemed to shake himself out of his stupor, he also cleared his throat and looked away. Bright red quickly coated his face and neck. “I-I mean, yeah. You look… different…” He rubbed his neck and side-eyed you. Before you could react, he spoke up once more. “That guy looks like the guy who picks you up from class. And his nose didn’t look broken... You get a new boyfriend?”

They both looked apprehensive and it took you a moment to realize who he was referring to. “What? Seungmin? No no no no!” You gave a nervous chuckle and averted your eyes from their piercing gaze. “No… ahem– No, Seungmin’s just a friend who let me live with him after my breakup. I’m–” You cut yourself off, not knowing if it was pertinent information to share, but their waiting faces led you to continue. “I’m still single…” You murmured with an awkward chuckle, cheeks most likely a tad bit rosy.

Jisung’s bright smile eased the tension in the air. “Very interesting…” He lilted with a half-smirk that looked unbelievingly sexy. What the hell was that supposed to mean?! He puffed out a big sigh and looped his arm around Minho’s bicep, to which the elder responded by placing his free hand on the one the younger had wrapped around his arm. “So, beautiful, where are we taking you tonight? Club? Five-star restaurant? The moon?”

You giggled and rolled your eyes and you saw the corners of Minho’s lips slightly lift up. “Get in and I’ll give you directions.” You said, strutting past them and waiting patiently by the car as they curiously followed you.

__________________________________________

“Really? Out of all the places you could have chosen, you take us to the bar Hannie performs at?” Minho asked with a raised brow as the three of you sat side-by-side at the bar. For some reason, instead of sitting together, they sat on either side of you. Maybe it was in case you tried to bail… You chuckled as you thought to yourself.

“Well, yeah. It’s cheap, the drinks are good, the vibe is chill, and the food doesn’t taste half bad.” You shrugged your shoulders as the bartender walked up and took your orders, not even batting an eye that you were going to be eating at the bar seating as opposed to the booths. “Plus, I have good memories here…” You smiled to yourself, remembering the time you were scared shitless when you performed publicly for the first time.

“Why’s that, sweetheart? Because this is where you first met me?” Jisung said with a wry smile and sultry voice that made you melt. He leaned in close to tease you and you were dizzy just from the smell of him.

You swatted his arm and laughed. “No! This is where I first performed live! I was a complete trainwreck and I’m pretty sure my guitar was out of tune, but it was the best day of my life.” You said wistfully with a sigh as you turned around in your seat to look at the musicians casually performing on the little stage in the corner of the room.

“I feel left out! I haven’t seen you play!” Minho whined while nudging your arm, the other two men turning around on the bar stools to watch your fellow bar patrons as well.

Jisung leaned forward to smirk at his boyfriend. “Awww is Minnie jealous?” He cooed while wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You stiffened and all of your senses honed in on the direct contact between you two.

Minho huffed. “As if.” He looked smug as he crossed his arms and looked straight again to declare confidently. “I hang out with her way more often than you do, jagi.”

“I would hardly count us bickering all morning twice a week as ‘hanging out’, Minho.” You challenged with a raised brow.

“Yeah, but it’s so much fun. It’s my favorite part of the week!” He said with an evil sneer as he leaned close to you.

You tried to not show how much his proximity was affecting you, but it was extremely difficult. “Oh joy. I feel so very honored. You just thrive on watching me squirm, don’t you?” You scoffed as you turned to look at him haughtily.

“Oh, you don’t even know the half of it, princess…” He murmured in a sultry tone that made your eyes widen and your ears turn bright red. You felt the arm around your shoulder tighten as you watched Minho bite his lip and lean even closer with an evil grin.

You didn’t know why, but the air was thick with tension and you were almost hyperventilating with the closeness of the boys around you.

“Here you guys go! Let me know when you’re ready for more drinks!” You completely jumped out of your skin when the bartender spoke up behind you, causing the boys to laugh as they turned back around to eat.

These boys are not good for my heart…

__________________________________________

Once the three of you finished your food, you ended up staying for hours just talking about shit-all and you found yourself loosening up more and more. Which you were sure the drinks contributed to.

You were all laughing and playfully bickering as the three of you walked to the car. However, all of a sudden, one particular thought was automatically snapped into place in your brain and you screeched to a halt in your tracks. “Oh my gosh! I totally forgot!” The boys turned to look at you with confusion etched into their features as you all stood by the car.

You suddenly marched up to Minho and, in your slightly inebriated mindset, you thought it would be a good idea to move your face a mere few inches away from his own unsuspecting one.

“You, mister, have to tell me why you’re in anger management with me!” You huffed as you placed your index finger smack-dab in the middle of his chest to drive the point home.

You felt his warm breath blow across your lips as he exhaled a shaky sigh. “I… I…” His eyes were rapidly blinking and he seemed to be at a loss for words as he struggled to form any sort of sound from his open mouth.

Suddenly, you felt a pair of hands grasp your shoulders and a hot breeze tickled your ear. “How about…” You felt Jisung pull you a bit closer and his lips were dangerously close to your neck. “...we discuss it when we get back to your place, yeah?”

You let out your own shaky breath and you held back your trembling when you saw pure, carnal desire painted across Minho’s face. Jisung’s surely going to be destroyed tonight when they get home…

The thought actually did make you shiver this time and you felt the arms around you squeeze your shoulders slightly. “Let’s get you home, sweetheart,” Jisung whispered in your ear and you could only bring yourself to dumbly nod in compliance just to be led to the car by the hand.

The drive was very tense for some reason and you didn’t know why these men were affecting you so much! They’re gay. They are boyfriends. Don’t have these useless thoughts about them… You told yourself as you subconsciously squeezed your thighs together.

“Um…” You muttered as you stood outside your apartment door, both of the boys looking at you as if they were waiting for something. You picked your gaze up from the ground to look at them and you saw Minho looking straight past you and into the open door of your apartment.

You were about to do a very stupid thing.

“S-Seungmin’s not home… in case you were wondering…” You watched Minho look back at you with a raised brow before he turned his eyes to look into your apartment again, Jisung watching him with crossed arms and an amused smirk. “Um…” You sputtered again. “Would you guys like to come in?”

Jisung shot you a dashing smile and you had to bite back your smile. “I thought you’d never ask!”

After more alcoholic beverages were served (because you definitely needed it to get through the night) and you were all settled on the couch, the two men sat on either side of you again. Were these motherfuckers trying to kill you?!

Minho cleared his throat before he broached the impending topic. “Sooo… about class…” You whipped your head to look at his sheepish expression and fully faced him in eagerness to hear him out. “I might have possibly hospitalized one of Jisung’s exes…”

“WHAT?!” You exclaimed with eyes as wide as saucers. “What the fuck do you mean you hospitalized him?!” You were sure the apparent shock was written all over your features and you felt a gentle hand plant itself on your knee from the other side of you.

“No no no, it’s nothing that serious.” Han peered around you to scowl at his boyfriend. “You see hyung? This is why people are scared of you!” He did have a point, Minho was terribly frightening when he wanted to be… Jisung looked back at you and rubbed his thumb over the bare skin of your leg. “The bastard was stalking me and, when I got off work one day, he cornered me and tried to…” Jisung closed his eyes and took a deep breath to compose himself. “He tried to… force himself on me…”

You hadn’t even realized you had put a hand over your mouth in bewilderment until Minho quickly placed his hand over the one Jisung had on your leg and you don’t think you had ever seen Minho look so… soft. “It’s okay, jagi… you don’t have to talk about it…” Jisung offered him a sad smile and solemnly nodded. Without a word, you froze when Minho retreated his hand from Jisung’s and, instead, placed it on your other knee. All of your senses and nerves were focused on their touch and you felt like you couldn’t see or hear anything else around you.

WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK ARE THESE FUCKING HUNK GODS FUCKING DOING TO YOU WITH THEIR WARM HANDS AND BEAUTIFUL FACES AND SEXY-ASS BODIES THAT MADE YOU WANT TO JUMP ON THEM AND DEVOUR THEM WHOLE?! You were surely going to die that night.

You hoped and prayed that they didn’t notice your furious blushing. “Anyway, luckily, I found him before anything happened, and I…” Minho glanced at you tentatively. “I may have broken his leg…” Your eyes widened. “And, uh, his arm too?” He bit his lip before continuing. “And I maybe also cracked one or two of his ribs…” You leaned back toward Jisung and they both squeezed each of your knees simultaneously.

“Wh-what?!” He offered a somewhat complacent smile and Jisung spoke up.

“You were incredibly lucky he didn’t press charges…” He muttered.

“Yeah well, considering the fact I would have sold him out as a rapist, I’d say he got off pretty easy…” Minho said, directing an annoyed huff off to the side.

“So he’s still out there?!” Minho scowled at your outburst and, instead of pulling away, he firmly squeezed your knee.

“What? Would you prefer I have a felony on my record?” He spat.

“Minnie–”

“No–!” Minho cut Jisung’s unspoken words short and glared at you once more. “News flash princess, he would have been released to the public either way!” He argued with a raised voice.

You scowled and spat right back at him. “Well, he should have had some sort of legal reprimanding!”

His grip on your knee was almost painfully tight and you ignored the stirring in your core that it caused. He leaned toward you with a lethally calm voice. “You little–”

“Oh my GOD! Just kiss already!” Jisung yelled from your other side and restlessly slid his hand just marginally higher up on your leg.

His outburst brought you crashing back down to earth with incredible velocity and you quickly realized the position you were in. Minho, who wore the same furious expression as you, had slid his hand up as well, his fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh. You and him had also been bringing your faces closer and closer in your fit of rage and he was only a mere few inches from your face.

Before your scowl could morph into a stupid state of astonishment, you instantly felt Minho’s hand grab the base of your neck. You found yourself being roughly turned away from him and immediately pushed towards his boyfriend. He then proceeded to smash your faces together and, as if Jisung was already anticipating it, he instantly cupped your face and slammed his lips against yours. All the while, their other hands never left your legs.

Once your lips touched down on his pouty lips, your body wasn’t your own anymore. You gasped into his mouth and then felt some sort of beast come alive in you, one that was solely fueled by your still-burning rage.

You let loose. Your arms looped around his neck and, when you felt his tongue peek out to tangle with yours, you arched your back from where you were pinned to the couch by their strong hands. A deep moan vibrated in your vocal cords when you felt Jisung’s hand slowly gravitate up your thigh.

That was when you were redirected once more.

Jisung’s other hand was strong but gentle as he switched from cupping your cheek to grabbing your jaw and quickly turning your head to push you towards Minho once more. You gasped again as you got a brief glimpse of Minho’s (sexy as fuck) furiously ravenous face before you were now connected to his lips.

Your hands automatically flew to his hair and you took your anger out on his beautiful brown locks. The tugging and abuse of the hair between your fingers earned a delicious growl from in between his lips and you took advantage of that to lick into his mouth. When you felt his bruising grip drift to the inside of your thigh, you took it upon yourself to clumsily rid your body of the quickly overwhelming heat of your sweater.

When you felt Jisung’s hand rub up and down your inner thigh, you pulled Minho away by his hair and turned back to Jisung. He was more than happy to lock lips with you, but it seemed like Minho wasn’t done with you as you felt him bite down hard on the base of your neck. You threw your head back against the couch as you cried out.

“You’re a fucking brat, aren’t you?” Minho hissed as he attached his lips to your neck and began biting and sucking every inch he could get his mouth on.

“A goddamned delicious brat…” Jisung added huskily as his tongue traced its way across your clavicle. You were in heaven and hell at the same time and you felt like, if you weren’t fucked right this instant, you would surely die.

One particularly hard bite from Minho had your hips bucking into the air and their hands were eager to make the journey underneath your dress. Your drenched panties were quickly rendered useless as the men desperately tore them off of you. On one side, Minho ran his finger through your dripping folds to begin furiously playing with your clit. On the other hand, Jisung made the plunge and sunk a finger inside you, making you cry out once more.

You were thrashing in their grip, Jisung with his unoccupied arm around your waist, and Minho with his firm grip on your hair.

You were so close to your peak that you could almost cry from the amount of pleasure. However, when Minho and Jisung looked at each other with that same intense passion, desperately connecting lips and tongues while continuing to pleasure you, that sealed the deal. You came so hard that you were almost dizzy from it and the men separated to revel in the sight of your orgasm. “That’s it, shake for us, baby,” Jisung murmured as he kissed the swell of your breast that peeked out of your dress.

“How pathetic. Couldn’t even hold out to cum on our cocks.” Minho challenged and you stared daggers at him.

Without further notice, you tore yourself from them and straddled Minho, pinning his arms to the couch and directing your seething face at him. “Oh, you have no idea how many times I can cum, princess. But it all depends if your useless cocks are able to get the job done.” He gave you a bone-chilling sneer in response to your challenge, but before he could respond, you grabbed Jisung by his shirt collar and yanked him over to join you where you straddled his boyfriend.

You made a show of licking up the column of his neck as he groaned and then you moved to whisper against his lips. “Want to show him how it’s done, Ji?” He smiled against your lips and murmured.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” He grabbed your hand and Minho watched in amazement as you hastily dragged his boyfriend to your bedroom.

You then proceeded to lift Jisung and throw him on the bed, quickly straddling him as the pair stared at you in amazement of your strength. “Hot damn, girl! You’re strong as hell!” Minho said with astonishment in his voice.

“Shit, that’s hot as fuck…” Jisung mumbled before he grabbed your neck and pulled you down to crush your lips against his. You couldn’t control the whimper that escaped your lips when he rolled his clothed erection against your glistening cunt.

You whined against his lips and spoke between rushed kisses. “Sungie… need you…” Your declaration snapped Minho into action and he rushed to your side.

“Condoms?” He said, sounding slightly breathless as he palmed himself.

“Drawer.” You signaled with your head towards your nightstand and he quickly returned with the two rubbers. You were eternally grateful to yourself for keeping them ‘just in case’ anything were to happen after your breakup.

They took a moment to ogle you when you stripped yourself of your dress and displayed the lean muscles that were usually hidden behind your clothes.

“Fuck…” They both breathed in tandem and you internally patted yourself on the back for staying fit and muscular. Especially if you earned those kinds of reactions.

Your impatience showed as you tore off your bra, the last article of clothing on you due to your panties already being in tatters somewhere on the living room carpet. You had barely even discarded the item before two sets of lips were on each nipple. You, once again, threw your head back and ground down against the man below you.

He released your nipple with a deep groan and you used the opportunity to claw at his shirt to rid him of it. You gave up once he took over and, instead, focused your efforts on freeing his cock from the confines of his pants. You shimmied off of him so he could quickly yank off his jeans and boxers and your eyes went as wide as saucers.

Shit, this boy is PACKING.

He used your ogling to his advantage and he pushed you on your back, hovering over you with a smirk as he lazily stroked his cock. “Just sit back and enjoy, sweetheart. We’ve got all night…”

THANK GOD.

He slid on the rubber and was about to start fingering you before you halted his movements. “Please, Jisung. I need you now!”

He looked at you apprehensively, fingers lazily circling your inner thigh. “Baby, I don’t want to hurt you…”

You roughly pulled him down so he was a hair’s breadth away from your mouth. “Angel, I love the stretch. Do your worst.” You saw a darkness in his eyes that you had yet to see and he leaned back to position himself as he looked down at where you two connected.

He looked back up at you with his gaze ablaze and he watched your face as he slammed his cock inside you with a force that took you by surprise.

You almost choked on the gasp you produced and your vision was blinded with a white light for a moment. You saw the muscles in his strong chest and abdomen contract and relax in between kisses as he started to plow into you with labored breaths.

“Fuck, yes! Show him, Ji…” You crooned and Jisung gave you a wicked smile before he processed your words. However, he instantly cowered when Minho stood on your bed to loom over the younger boy, clothes completely discarded.

“Hyung…” Jisung groaned as his thrusts continued at a steady pace.

Minho only responded with hooded lids and a domineering expression as he held his (otherworldly beautiful) cock up to Jisung’s spit-slick lips. “Go ahead, Hannie baby. Show me how it’s done.” His voice was deadly calm and there was a hidden threat underlying his words that made Jisung instantly respond.

You had to give it to him, you were impressed.

Jisung’s hips never faltered or slowed down as he gulped down his boyfriend’s (also unreasonably large) cock. Minho hissed between his teeth at the much-needed stimulation and he turned his head to you with a cocky grin.

Still looking at you, he began petting Jisung’s disheveled hair. “That’s a good boy…” He said glancing lovingly down at his lover before looking back at you. “See? Even while making you squirm, my baby boy knows who properly wrecks him.” He bit his lip and continued to revel in the enigma that was Han Jisung and his multitasking expertise.

When you heard a faint gag come from the younger’s mouth, you saw Minho lose his composure for a split second before grabbing the boy’s hair and freeing himself from the wet heat that surrounded him. Jisung whined, but only grasped your hips harder, shoving himself deeper and bringing you closer and closer.

“You’re too good at that baby…” Minho spoke in a sultry tone as he finally knelt down on the mattress as well. He kept his hand rooted in the younger's hair as he brought two of his fingers to Jisung’s mouth. “Get them nice and wet for me, love?” Jisung nodded eagerly and quickly slathered the digits with his saliva, sucking, licking, and slobbering on them until they were dripping. Once Minho deemed the job properly done, he pulled back his hand and gave his boyfriend a light peck before whispering against his lips. “Now ruin that cunt of hers so I can properly fuck the bitchiness out of her. Yeah?”

Jisung exhaled a slight chuckle before turning back to you with a smirk. “Oh you’re in for it now, honey…” When Minho finally released him, the beautiful, round-faced sweetheart turned into an insatiable demon. You braced yourself when his beautiful hands grabbed your ankles and stretched them all the way up over your head, properly folding you in half.

You had no clue how he managed to do it, but every single thrust after that nailed you right in the center of your g-spot and you threw your head back with a loud cry.

You soon found out what Minho planned to do with those soaked fingers of his when he moved to crouch at your side on the mattress. He smirked evilly as he held those same fingers up to your mouth. “Your turn, princess. Soak me.”

You were desperate to hold back your moans as you willed yourself to glare up at him. However, it sounded more like a whine when you spoke. “Make me…”

You could say you were a bit regretful of those words when his face morphed into a searing scowl. Without saying a word, he calmly brought his fingers to your face and turned to Jisung. “You know what to do, Hannie…”

The amused smile that bloomed on Jisung’s face quickly morphed into a sadistic one as he looked back at you. All simultaneously, Minho plunged his face in your cunt and quickly started making out with your clit at the same time Jisung decided to angle deeper and intentionally crushed your cervix. The resulting scream that emanated from you allowed Minho to plunge his awaiting fingers in your mouth and you began eagerly slobbering all over them, tasting Jisung’s remaining saliva in the process.

Eventually, you could no longer tend to his fingers as an earth shattering orgasm washed over you, causing you to scream and soak both Jisung and Minho in tandem.

You had just come down from your high when you felt Jisung halt all movement inside you. When the haze cleared from your eyes and you lifted your head to assess the situation, your jaw dropped.

Minho was positioned behind Jisung with one hand around his neck and the other was pumping his spit-slick fingers in his ass. Jisung looked as if he was in so much pleasure that all other functions of his body were rendered useless. “Such a good boy, letting her cum on your cock like that. So fucking sexy…” Minho murmured in his lover’s ear as you watched the hand around his neck alternate between loosening and contracting.

Jisung whimpered and you scowled at the man behind him who shot you a triumphant smirk over Jisung’s strong shoulder.

You huffed and slunk out from underneath Jisung who’s limbs had gone slack in pleasure. You proceeded to lunge at Minho and pin him down against your destroyed sheets. You felt a hint of pride when you were able to overpower him and keep him in place.

“You think you’re pretty slick, huh? Taking Ji away from me like that?” You seethed just inches from his stupidly beautiful smug face.

“Oh, I don’t think I am, princess. I know I am.” He mused.

You huffed and spoke over your shoulder to the dazed man behind you. “Jisung, baby, would you please wrap up this man’s worthless dick so I can make him fall apart under me, please?” You fluttered your eyelashes at the younger man and he eagerly complied, kissing your neck as he, too, straddled Minho to roll the condom on him.

With you hovering over Minho’s cock, Jisung facing you from where he straddled his boyfriend’s torso, and Minho with his hands fondling Jisung’s ass, the three of you acted simultaneously.

You slowly sank down on the hot, twitching appendage and Minho groaned, roughly sinking his fingers into the flesh of Jisung’s ass cheeks and spreading them apart. The latter breathed in a surprised gasp and you watched in awe as Minho wrapped his arms around the younger’s thighs to sit him back on top of the man’s face.

Jisung cried out as you heard the sloppy noises of Minho going to town on his eager hole. All the while, you were still adjusting to Minho’s size. They were pretty similar in size, but it was still a lot to handle and you were more than a little breathless when you started bouncing on his cock, your hands roaming over his toned abdomen in the process.

Your eyes, when the overwhelming fog of lust cleared, locked onto the other man that was riding the man beneath the two of you. Jisung had a blazing fire in his eyes that bore into your soul and you didn’t even think twice before pulling him in for a searing kiss.

With your lips attached, you both continued to grind on the man below you while Minho alternated his groping between Jisung’s plump ass cheeks and your own. Minho was growling and moaning against his hole as he bucked up into you and you whimpered when Jisung brought his hands up to play with your waiting breasts.

However, Jisung seemed to have the air knocked out of him when you slipped off his now-pointless condom and started expertly pumping his cock with your eager hand. “O-oh fuck…” He muttered against your lips and you smiled up at him.

“Will you cum on my face, Jisungie? Please?” You heard both of them loudly moan at that and you leaned down to get as close to his dick that you were able to and began using all of your focus to properly jack this beautiful man off.

You knew he was close when his legs started shaking underneath him and you heard a cry fall from his lips when you managed to get close enough to give a small kitten-lick to his tip. Cum instantly sputtered all over your face and lips and you lapped up everything that your tongue could catch.

Both you and Minho laid the completely spent boy down next to you on the bed before Minho grabbed you behind the neck and growled against your lips. “We. Aren’t. Done. Yet.” You gasped when he licked up a long string of cum off your face and smirked at your slackened jaw. “Fuck!” He yelled as he grasped your hips and thrusted up into you as he slammed you down on his cock. “You look so goddamned sexy with Hannie’s load all over your face…”

He pulled you down to, once again, clean up your face with his tongue and then furiously kissed you as he fucked up into your abused hole. You couldn’t have cared less that that same tongue was up Jisung’s asshole just moments before, not with the way he was making you feel. You whimpered into his mouth with every thrust and it wasn’t until you screamed their names as you came that he emptied himself into the condom as well.

He rode you through your orgasms before you rolled over and collapsed next to Jisung who seemed to be lost in a daze as he watched you two finish.

Heavy breathing was the only thing that was heard and three palpitating chests were the only things that moved as you came back to reality and realized what the fuck just happened.

Holy christ on a cracker…

Your breathing began morphing into breathless laughter which then turned into full on cackling as you felt two sets of eyes fixed on you. Once your giggles died down and you wiped the resulting tears from your eyes, you threw your head back with an amused lilt to your voice. “What the hell just happened?”

You heard chuckling from both sides of you in response and they both sat up to look down at you. “Are you doing okay there, beautiful?” Jisung laughed with a smile on his face as he wiped what was presumably jizz out of your hair. You nodded with an equally bright face up at him and you looked over to see that Minho was tonguing his cheek with an amused grin.

You narrowed your eyes at him, preparing yourself for whatever snark was about to fall from his lips, but his face slowly softened. “So, uh, does this mean you forgive me for what I said?”

You tried desperately to suck in your smile, but you were pretty sure you failed miserably. You had completely forgotten that’s what tonight was supposed to be all about and you could almost laugh at yourself with how quickly you let your guard down around them. You liked them. And not just for their dicks or god tier good looks, but you found that, in only a short amount of time, these were pretty cool guys.

Maybe that’s why you were feeling the way you felt…

You made a show of appearing as if you were deliberating your response, but you knew you had already forgiven him as soon as you saw him that morning. But he didn’t need to know that…

“Hmmm… I suppose I can look past your assholery if you two clean up this mess you’ve created.” You smirked at them and they immediately got to work.

The night ended with both of them slowly cleaning you up with wet towels, only briefly interrupted by their wandering hands and kisses, before they quickly changed your sheets. You climbed into bed naked and they just stood at the end of your bed looking a bit sheepish.

You rolled your eyes at them, finding it amusing that, out of everything that had happened that night, this was the part they were awkward about.

“Well?” You said with a raised brow. “We don’t have all night for you two to just stand there! Get in!” You said lifting the covers. “Unless you prefer traveling all the way home at this time of night?”

They looked at each other and Jisung looked back at you with a gleeful smile before hopping straight in, immediately cuddling up to your side and nuzzling his face in your neck. Minho, on the other hand, crossed his arms and raised a brow. “What are the chances I get my face smashed in with a guitar?”

Again, you bit back your amused smile and pondered. “Hmmm slim to none.” You declared with a nod.

“Oh just get in here, Minnie! It’s the least you could do for causing all of this!” Jisung said with a cute, child-like whine.

Minho’s face surrendered an endearing smile at his boyfriend and offered a sarcastic eye-roll before trudging over to the bed. He hesitated for a moment, but ultimately decided to take the spot on the other side of you, causing you to be squished by the men.

You melted when they both wrapped their arms around you and it wasn’t long before you were out like a light.

__________________________________________

You had only begun realizing how brazen you were being when you caught Seungmin glancing at you for the fourth time while he was driving you to class. Jisung had given Minho your phone number and Minho immediately created a group chat. However, you instantly regretted it once they began teasing you NON-STOP throughout the week.

Between Jisung’s innuendos and Minho’s provocative threats, you couldn’t get a moment’s peace from your blushing face and moist undergarments. That being said, you considered it a bit of payback to dress the way you had for the following class you had with the infuriating man.

Seungmin probably thought you hadn’t noticed his ogling, but he was honestly shit at being subtle. It was in the middle of autumn, but you disregarded this as you chose your outfit that morning.

You had worn some black thigh-high stockings with cute boots, but you were freezing in the rest of your outfit. Honestly it wasn’t TOO provocative, but it was also unlike your usual attire… Just like your last outfit when you were with them…

Your burnt-orange colored skirt came up to your waist so your black crop top only showed a sliver of your midriff. Plus, you had a cozy green sweater to keep you warm so… you looked normal right? Most girls wear barely anything and don’t bat an eyelash about it either.

But, it’s true that you usually wore a t-shirt and jeans sooo…

You were kind of nervous when Seungmin pulled up to the building and gave you a knowing smirk. “Have fun.” He lilted with an amused tone. You just narrowed your eyes at him in response and wordlessly stepped out of the car.

You didn’t know whether you wanted Minho to get there before or after you, but fate had apparently decided to fuck with you that day because, as you were walking to the front door, you witnessed Jisung kissing his boyfriend goodbye. You froze when you saw them, but their eyes immediately snapped to you when they separated.

You had to will yourself to move forward, but they made it difficult when their eyes widened and then simultaneously turned predatory once you began nearing them.

“It seems fate has a sense of humor, I never get here at the same time as you.” You mused as you stopped in front of them.

Jisung remained staring at you like you were his next meal, but Minho took a step closer to you and gave you a crooked smile. “Yeah, funny. You usually get here way later. Tell me, did something make you a bit eager to get here today? Hm?” His voice was a teasing melody as he cocked his head to the side with an evil smile.

Before you could even answer, Jisung also stepped closer and looked down at you menacingly. “I can’t imagine it would have been a quick process to look the way you do today. Did you have plans later on?” He mimicked Minho’s smile and you forced yourself to look blasé.

You scoffed and held your chin high. “Does it matter? Maybe I just wanted to put in an extra bit of effort today… there doesn’t have to be any particular reason…”

“I think there is, sweet thing…” Jisung’s eyes trailed down where he caressed your arm and you shivered from the touch.

You narrowed your eyes at Minho as he clicked his tongue. “Psh, sweet? The only sweet thing about her is…” He gave you a once over and tongued the corner of his mouth with a sly grin. “…the way she tastes…” You blushed furiously and quickly checked your surroundings to make sure there weren’t any prying ears.

You shoved his arm as the pair cackled and then wrapped your arms around yourself in your intense bashfulness.

Jisung immediately grabbed your hands to unravel you. “Oh don’t be shy darling. Besides, Minho has been non-stop talking to me about your tight, pretty little cu—“

“OKAY WELL SEE YOU LATER JISUNG!” You shouted as you quickly ran inside, their cackling fading behind you.

The first half of class was torture. You and Minho had gotten used to sitting across from each other in the circle and it remained that way. First, it was because you despised each other, now, it was so he could maintain eye contact with you to drive you crazy.

He was making threatening sex eyes at you the entire time as he kept ogling your body as if you were a whole goddamn snack. He was manspread the entire time, of course, and you weren’t able to force your way out of this one, your eyes were glued to him.

You lost track of time of how many times you licked your lips at the memory of last week and you smashed your legs together from the aching between your thighs. When it was break time, you bolted to get outside as soon as possible. Not to smoke this time, but to have some privacy.

Just as you expected, Minho was not far behind you as he strutted up to your normal spot on the side of the building. “Not smoking this time?”

You shook your head as you faced him. “Nah, I decided to quit again. Apparently they’re bad for you.” You said nonchalantly as you shrugged.

“You don’t say?” He mused sarcastically. “Well that’s a relief, you look so much better without that stick in your mouth.” You sputtered a laugh as you felt that had a double meaning. He caught on quickly and he flashed a grin. “However, as for other kinds of sticks…”

He left his sentence hanging as he stepped closer to you, causing your heart to beat out of your chest. His eyes didn’t leave yours as he brushed your hair off the side of your neck. He DID, however, look away when he leaned in and whispered with his lips grazing your ear.

“Jisungie thought it would be a good idea to remind you of our time together last week.” You sucked in a breath when his hand wrapped around you underneath your sweater and snuck up the back of your crop top to splay his hand over the bare skin there. He placed a gentle kiss on your jaw and breathed into your ear again. “But I’m sure you’ve had it on your mind as much as we have.”

You shivered when you felt his other hand slide down your thigh to play with the hem of your skirt. You turned your head to speak a hair's breadth away from his lips. “I have no clue what you’re talking about. All I know is that some jackass has been eye-fucking me all morning.”

You gasped when he abruptly pressed you against the wall with his body, his eyes burning holes through you with the fury in his gaze. You felt his hand sneak up underneath your skirt and played with the edge of your panties, drawing out an embarrassing whine from you. “Would you rather have another form of fucking?”

You took a small glance at your surroundings to make sure the coast was clear and snaked your hand between your bodies and cupped his groin, earning a stifled groan through his bitten lip. “I know what you would rather have…” He pursed his lips in frustration and your body acted before your brain did.

You abruptly dragged the man around the corner out of sight of potential onlookers and smashed your lips against his, proceeding to press against his growing bulge, feeling his surprised gasp against your face. You whimpered when his hand plunged underneath your panties and delicately ran his fingers through your sopping folds. Your leg automatically wrapped around him to bring him closer and he didn’t beat around the bush. He SHOVED two fingers inside you and began to furiously finger-fuck you as your hands fumbled with the button on his jeans.

“Fuck, you’d be ruined if I had a condom on me right now…” He growled against your lips before moving to devour your neck.

You finally managed to wiggle your hand in his pants to get ahold of his cock to begin stroking it. “Shit who said we needed a condom? I’m clean and have a birth control implant. Unless you and Ji have any problems…”

His entire body froze against you and he retrieved his head from the crook of your neck to look at you with black, dilated eyes. He took a moment before he completely released you and completely freed his cock from his jeans, positioning himself in front of you to lift you up and wrap your legs around his waist.

You let out a surprised moan when he, without any further notice, moved your panties to the side and started viciously fucking you. “Fuck! Why’d you have to say that?”

Your arms frantically wrapped around his neck to claw at his back as you buried your face in his neck. “Shit…” You breathed. “F-fuck, we’re g-going to be l-late for class!” You were already nearing your peak from his ministrations with his fingers earlier, but the way he filled you up so deliciously had you shaking and whimpering for release.

“Fuck baby, I don’t need long… Just imagine I was fucking you into Hannie rather than this stupid wall…” As he said this, his thrusts sped up and his power increased tenfold. Just the thought of Jisung going at it from behind sent you over the edge and you shook thoroughly as you tried to keep your resulting cry of pleasure to the minimum as to not alert the surrounding area.

Your flooding of his rock hard dick made him violently twitch and soon you felt immense heat filling you to the brim. His feral grunt was almost sexy enough to make you cum again, but he quickly pulled out and moved your panties over to contain most of his seed.

Without further ado, he grabbed your hand and dragged you back to class while you used your other hand to fix yourself up to hopefully not look like you just got dicked down.

__________________________________________

Next week was Minho’s final day in class and they wanted to throw a party at their place which you, of course, readily accepted. In the meantime, those men tortured you. You didn’t have the time to see them, but they made sure to keep you interested. Their texts, calls, and video calls always had you blushing (even though you would never admit it) and halfway through the week, they decided to “surprise” you.

You were just going to bed after a long day of work and you had just finished showering before climbing into bed. You had a habit of going to sleep naked due to the fact you hated your skin feeling restricted as you slept.

However, when you saw you were receiving a video call from the infamous men, you panicked. You turned on your bedside lamp and shoved yourself deep under the covers, but you answered with the camera facing the ceiling anyway.

“How am I not surprised you guys would call right as I climbed in bed?” You spoke into your phone over the speaker, camera still showing nothing but your ceiling fan.

The men were smiling when you answered, but when they saw your end of the screen, they frowned in confusion. “Why can’t we see your face?” Minho said with an aggressive complaint.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his raised voice, so you did what you always did to Minho, argued back at him. “Why do you need to see my face? It’s not like I’m the one who decided to video call!” You noticed that they were laying in bed and neither of them had a shirt on. Your mouth watered at the sight of them. Man, I’m a desperate bitch…

Minho was about to fight back, but Jisung cut in. “We video called because we wanted to see our favorite girl! We miss you, gorgeous!” Your heart warmed and you held back the giddiness that flowed through your veins.

“Well I’m not so sure about the gorgeous part. There’s a reason I’m not showing my face.” They both looked perplexed and you sighed. “I just showered and I don’t have any makeup on and I look like a wet rat with my hair still damp.”

Both of them went silent and you saw their faces simultaneously turn feral. Minho suddenly brought the phone closer. “Show your goddamn face right the fuck now.”

You shivered at his tone and you peeked at his face once again to witness the predatory expression taking over his beautiful face. You took a deep breath and closed your eyes to compose yourself and then stared at the phone. “Why should I?” You said in a defiant tone.

Jisung laughed incredulously and looked at his boyfriend. “You weren’t kidding, she is a stubborn one.”

Minho smirked and licked his lips. “Because if you don’t, we are coming over ourselves and I will pound on the door loud enough to wake any and every neighbor on your entire block.” He grumbled in a low, threatening tone.

“Trust me, baby. He will absolutely do it.” Jisung said as he held the camera in its original position.

You cringed at the thought and you, indeed expected he would follow up on that threat.

You sighed and tentatively grabbed your phone and scooted a bit under the covers in hopes they couldn’t see much but, unfortunately, you had to use a hand to hold your phone up, showing your bare shoulder and collarbone. Once you tried to fix your hair (unsuccessfully), you brought your camera into focus on your face, feeling exposed and vulnerable.

You didn’t necessarily have self-confidence issues, you just felt exposed and foreign in this state when people see you like this.

You braced yourself for their reactions, but you couldn’t prepare enough to see them sit up in excitement. Jisung spoke first. “My god, you’re so gorgeous…”

“Why the fuck would you hide this?”

“Why do you even wear makeup?”

“Fuck, I want us to wreck you so bad right now…”

“Wanna make you squirm underneath us, baby”

Your eyes widened at their onslaught of comments and you hoped they didn’t notice your blush. “I… um… I don’t really know what to say…” You shifted the arm holding your phone a bit and Jisungs eyes went wide.

“Baby girl… What are you hiding under all those covers?” His voice was sly and his smirk, amused.

Minho leaned in closer to get a better look. “Fuck, show us the rest…” He breathed.

“For me babydoll?” Jisung pouted, but somehow it was sexy as fuck and you didn’t have it in you to refuse.

You bit your lip and held the phone a bit further out, pulling down the covers and revealing your top half. “All. Of. It.” Minho emphasized with a deep growl. You just didn’t give two fucks anymore, seeing as you were already turned on and heated. So, without further ado, you just threw the entirety of your covers off of you and rubbed your horny thighs together as you showed them yourself in your most vulnerable state.

“Fuck…” They both said in tandem and you licked your lips.

When you angled the phone back up to your face, you now allowed your breasts to be within view. “Well? It’s nothing you guys haven’t seen before…” You bit your lip. These guys really did have such a strong affect on you.

“Well, yeah. But knowing we are all bare in our beds gives us… thoughts…” Jisung hinted and you felt an odd sensation run through you with this knowledge. You shifted your thighs again.

“...Thoughts?” You inquired (even though you definitely already knew what they were thinking).

“Yeah… I might be thinking about a certain canoodling during class you two had last week… and how hyung gave me EVERY. SINGLE. DETAIL.” You blushed at the thought. And Jisung definitely noticed. “Did you cum to the thought of me too, baby? Wish I was there helping hyung?”

You bit your lip and nodded, the ache in between your legs becoming more and more apparent.

“I didn’t just tell him, little girl. I showed him. I fucked him right up against the wall just like I did with you…” You closed your eyes at Minho’s words and a hint of a whimper sneaked out through your vocal cords. “Would you like to see that? Want to watch me ruin Hannie the way I did to you?”

Your eyes flew open and you frantically nodded your head, too lost in the moment to realize how vulnerable you were being.

“Well… what will you do to convince us, beautiful? Can you touch yourself for us baby? Let us watch you pleasure yourself to the thought of us?” Jisung’s words were like butter and you felt your body melt into submission.

You didn’t say anything, but you let your actions speak for you. You kept the camera on your face, but you slid your unoccupied hand down between your legs and closed your eyes with an appreciative sigh once you finally got the much needed stimulation to your aching clit.

“Don’t be selfish, girl. Set down your phone so we can see all of you.” Minho’s domineering tone had you boiling in defiance.

“Maybe I would be inclined to if I saw some action on your end too!” You whined, failing to sound as stern as you intended to.

Luckily, Jisung was more receptive to your demands as he chuckled and slowly lowered their covers. Both men sported fully erect cocks and Minho had already been stroking his. You sucked in a breath and bit your lip. “So? Will you show us now, baby?” Jisung muttered in a sultry tone that had you scrambling to set up your phone.

It was kind of difficult to angle it accurately on your bunched up duvet, but you eventually got it stable enough to lay back again. The phone was propped up at the foot of the bed between your legs that way they could see both your face and your hungry cunt.

“Oh fuck…” Minho mumbled as he switched from stroking his own dick to begin stimulating Jisung’s. You watched as Jisung tensed up with hooded eyes and scrambled to take Minho in his hand, pumping him in time with Minho’s slow strokes.

You whined and you moved your fingers to spread open your pussy lips, exposing your leaking entrance. “Fuck, such a good girl…” Jisung breathed. With your hole still on display, you took another finger and started teasing the center of it, threatening yourself with the thought of finally relieving your needy pussy.

“Minho… C-can I watch you prep Hannie? I-if that’s okay with you, Ji…?”

Minho sported an evil grin and Jisung raised a brow. “You’re a dirty girl, aren’t you baby? You want to watch hyung get me off while I watch you, yeah?” You nodded frantically as you went back and forth from playing with your clit to teasing your entrance. “Of course you can watch, baby…” Jisung sweetly replied and shifted to sit between Minho’s legs before setting the phone down in a similar position to your own, that way you could see his tight hole on display as Minho’s arms instinctively wrapped around his boyfriend.

Minho squeezed Jisung tight and placed a wet kiss on his jaw before leaning over and rummaging their drawer for some lube. Jisung seemed a bit tentative, but he eventually leaned back against his lover and spread his legs for the camera.

You couldn’t hold back your stifled moan when you saw Minho’s slick fingers coat Jisung’s rim with the warmed substance.

They both locked their eyes onto the screen when they heard you and they both had very different reactions. Minho looked like a cocky motherfucker and he grinned with a heavy-jawed smirk as he tongued the corner of his lip. All the while, he brought his other slick hand around the younger and started stroking the man’s leaking cock. Jisung, on the other hand, had his brows turned in while he fluttered his lashes and bit his lip, eyes turning a bit hazy from the amount of stimulation he was receiving.

As soon as you saw the tip of Minho’s finger slip in, you quickly plunged your finger into your own drooling entrance. You witnessed Jisung’s white knuckles as they gripped onto Minho’s sturdy thighs and Jisung groaned when his hole had finally swallowed the full finger and, in turn, caused you to repeat the action on your end.

“Fuck you’re so pretty, Ji…” You sighed wistfully and Jisung smirked at you lazily.

“I could say the same about you, gorgeous…” He huffed before Minho’s, now moving, finger pulled a moan out of him.

“And what about me?” Minho hissed as he continued to pump out noises from the younger.

You let out a breathless scoff. “You boost your own ego enough. You don’t need my help, Min.”

You suddenly heard a whine come from Jisung’s mouth and you realized Minho retreated both of his hands from Jisung’s body. “That’s too bad, it seems you don’t need me then, huh?”

His smirk was all-knowing. He already knew you wanted both of them in this whole fucked up situation and he was all too willing to play dirty. Jisung looked back at you with pleading eyes and you didn’t have the heart to rob him of this.

“Fine.” You started. And he propped his chin up on Jisung’s shoulder with a smug smile. You took a breath and looked down. “Minho…” You looked back up at the camera with hooded lids and became dead serious. “You are so beautiful I want to punch your face in…” He sat up again with an unamused demeanor. “But!” He narrowed his eyes at you. “You sometimes have a certain expression when you look at Jisung… or maybe even me… and I instantly want to drop to my knees for you.”

Jisung bit back his smile and then craned his neck back to look at his hyung’s reaction. The elder tried not to react, but you could tell his pupils were more dilated and his cheeks and ears were a bright red.

You really enjoyed that look on him.

And what else could you do other than milk it? “Minho…” You whined with intense breathless words as you slightly arched your back. “Please touch Jisungie for me? I want to see your cock fill him up. So. Badly.” You almost sounded too overboard on the needy side, but you drove the point home when you inserted two fingers in yourself and threw your head back with a loud moan (that Seungmin most likely heard).

You then heard a cry from Jisung and you whipped your head up to see that Minho had also inserted two of his fingers into Jisung’s hole and began scissoring him open. You replicated the action on yourself and whimpered. Jisung was breathing heavily and his brows were still turned inwards, but he stared at you with such passion that you could almost feel the heat radiating off of him in waves all the way across the other end of the call.

“Fuck, just like that beautiful, do to yourself what hyung does to me… feel what I feel baby girl.” Jisung groaned and he tilted his head with a euphoric expression when Minho started kissing and biting his way up Jisung’s neck.

Just the pure eroticism of everything you saw on that screen was bringing you way more pleasure than if you were just watching regular porn.

“Shit, Sungie… I wish I was there to suck you off at the same time…” Your comment made the two men groan and Jisung sucked in a breath when Minho began to wiggle a third finger in.

“M-me too, baby…” He managed to squeak out in response.

You steadily became needy enough to need more. They both watched you with confusion written across their faces as you shimmied over to the side of your bed to reach your nightstand. When you came back into frame with a little pink dildo, they both cursed.

“M-Minnie I’m ready…” Jisung blurted in a flurry and began sitting up, suddenly emptying himself of the elder’s fingers.

“You sure, jagi?” Minho asked tentatively as he held onto the boy’s hips. Han just nodded his head with a whine and lifted himself up with Minho’s assistance to hover over his cock. “Do it with me, baby girl. Fuck yourself with us.” Minho replied huskily to you and your small whimpers of impatience.

You sat in full view of the sinful sight of Jisung slowly sinking down on Minho’s leaking and over-eager erection as you, too, began penetrating yourself.

Minho hissed at the feeling of finally being stimulated and he dropped his head down on Han’s shoulder. Jisung, however, went slack-jawed and his chest began palpitating from his heavy breathing. And you? You saw this as you penetrated yourself and breathed out a hundred expletives as you failed to match their speed and immediately shoved the toy all the way up in you.

You heard a deep chuckle come from Han’s mouth and you looked at him like you wanted to eat him. “Eager, baby? Imagine how much better you would feel if that was my dick inside you instead…” Jisung’s voice was breathless as he spewed his delicious lewdness and you could only respond with a needy whine.

After a few experimental pumps, just to make sure Han was comfortable, Minho wrapped his arms around the other man and started fucking up into him. Jisung bounced to meet his thrusts and the entire time you were fucking yourself, you spewed out filth and rushed whimpers of their names, the men on the other end growling yours in return.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your peak and you came with a loud cry. “FuckfuckfuckMinhoJisungfuuuck!!!” You emptied your lungs completely and felt lightheaded when you came back down.

Luckily, when you regained focus, Minho’s face was scrunched and violent as he slammed Jisung down on his cock. Jisung looked completely fucked out as his head was lolled to the side and his knuckles were white on his knees as he spread his legs.

Minho pumped into Han a few more times before you saw a strand of white shoot in the air and land on Jisung’s chest. His cry of pleasure was very much like your own when he climaxed. However, Minho growled like a feral tiger as his hips stuttered and he finally came deep inside the younger, teeth finding their mark on Han’s shoulder to stifle his moans (that were still very much audible).

For a moment, all that was heard was heavy breathing. You closed your eyes momentarily to collect yourself. Yeeeah you were definitely going to need another shower. When you opened your eyes again, your heart swelled.

The two men were gazing into each other’s eyes with loving smiles on their faces, giggling and kissing periodically. It was such a heartwarming thing sight that you felt a smile cross your features. Until it dropped.

What the fuck were you doing?

These men were each other’s whole lives. They were so obviously madly in love that anyone within a twenty meter radius could sense it. Seeing them together felt right. Seeing them together screamed “SOULMATES”.

Who were you?

You had no place here. You were just someone they met that would be willing enough to spice up their love life. A pawn.

A pawn.

Made to be used and discarded. Always second best or worse. To them. To your ex. To… anyone.

The heartwarming feeling you had turned sour and you suddenly felt like you were going to be sick. Now, feeling like a whore and plaything, you felt extremely vulnerable.

You scrambled to cover yourself and they whipped their heads to the screen, smiles turning into perplexed frowns. “You alright, pet?” Minho inquired.

You felt your eyes water and you cursed yourself for being so weak. You ‘accidentally’ knocked over your phone so they saw nothing but black when you hollered over to the speaker. “Y-yeah! I, uh. I gotta go! See you guys next week!”

“Wai—“

“Are yo—“

They both said simultaneously right as you ended the call.

You were ashamed to say that you cried on the shower floor that night.

__________________________________________

The texting the week after that was minimal. You used working as an excuse to avoid talking too much and you told them the other night’s abrupt departure was because Seungmin came to tease you about the noise.

That was… partially true… but he held off on doing that until the following morning.

You reassured their concerns about your attendance to the party for the next class just to get them off your back. After all, you still did consider them as… friends? Yeah, sure, friends. So you didn’t mind celebrating Minho’s last day, especially with other people around to mingle with to… distract yourself with…

You arrived to class last-minute in hopes of avoiding chatting with the pair. However, as luck would have it, when Seungmin drove up to drop you off, they appeared to be waiting for you.

You internally groaned and gave Seungmin the stink-eye when he waggled his eyebrows at you suggestively.

As you stepped out of the car, you gave the two (stupidly gorgeous) men a meek smile. They stepped towards you eagerly and Jisung smiled with worried eyes as Minho looked down at you cautiously.

“Hey, guys. We’re gonna be late for class! Let’s go, Min!” You felt broken seeing them again and spoke as if you were being suffocated and, as you passed them, you felt a hand grasp your wrist and spin you around.

“Look here, you little shit. You’ve been acting weird all fucking week. I’m not buying your bullshit act, so you need to tell us what the fuck is wrong with you.” Minho spat at you, inches from your face. Fuck he’s so hot. You wanted those lips so bad…

Wait. No! Stop stupid horny brain!

You yanked your wrist free from his grip and took a step back, fury blooming on your face. “Me? What the fuck is wrong with you? I said I was fine! You’re the one making a big deal out of it!” You adjusted your coat, feeling a bit more comfortable in the cool air after getting so heated. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a class that I am now LATE for!”

And with that, you spun around and marched inside, leaving a pissed off Minho and a distressed Jisung behind.

Other than hiding in the bathroom during the class break, Minho glared at you the entire time as you pretended not to notice.

__________________________________________

After fleeing at the end of class in almost a humorous fashion to avoid talking to them, you jumped into Seungmin’s car and demanded him to get a fucking move on.

Later that evening, you decided to forgo the dressing up for just simply wearing what you did that morning, jeans and a baggy graphic t-shirt with a cute image of Tanjiro and Nezuko on the front.

That’s not necessarily seductive… right?

You decided it would be rude to show up to the party (Yes you were going! You promised!) without contributing anything, so you had Seungmin stop on the way there to buy a bottle of Jim Beam and a two liter bottle of coke to take with you.

As Seungmin stopped in front of the (pretty fancy) apartment building, you checked the address on your phone again. “Yep, I guess this is the one…” You sighed, grabbing your bag of drinks and stepping out of the car.

However, before you could walk away, Seungmin rolled down the window and hollered at you. “Hey! If you need me, for anything, let me know and I’ll be here in a flash. Okay?”

You rolled your eyes and waved your hand nonchalantly. “Yeah yeah, okay mom. I’ll call if I need to, just don’t stay up on my account.” You chuckled.

He smirked as he shifted the car into drive. “Have fun with your boooyfrieeeends~” He lilted before he drove off.

You huffed and muttered to yourself in frustration. “They’re not my boyfriends…” You grumbled as you marched to the intercom. You took a breath before you buzzed the right apartment number and, oddly enough, you were immediately let in.

You found yourself subconsciously running your hands through your hair and straightening your clothes when you knocked on their front door, quickly catching the action and kicking yourself for it.

Do NOT be flirtatious. Do NOT be alluring. Do NOT be sugges–

You froze when the door opened to a breathtaking display of the two men. They looked absolutely… natural? Comfortable and casual in their normal clothes they also wore this morning. I mean, I GUESS not everyone dresses up for parties. But… where is everyone?

As you ogled their, still very gorgeous, appearances, Minho spoke up in a stern voice. “What are you doing here?” You slightly deflated and looked at the ground. Wow, was Minho really that petty to not want you there anymore?

You scoffed with a bitter smile. “Well I’m sorry I didn’t know I was uninvited!” You held out the bag of drinks and shoved it into Minho’s hands. “I got this for you for your last day. Bye.” You spat with venom in your tone. Right as you turned and felt the angry waterworks prickling at your eyes, you felt a pair of arms spin you around and wrap you up into their owner’s embrace.

“Of course you’re still invited, silly. We just thought you weren’t going to want to come…” Jisung said from where his face was smooshed into your neck from the hug.

You squeezed him back. “Of course I wanted to come! I promised!”

“Then what the fuck was that shit this morning?!” Minho barked at you from the door.

You glared at him when Jisung released you. “That was me not wanting some asshole to grill me on useless nonsense!”

“That’s bullish—“

“Oh will you two stop it! She’s here now so let's just get the hell on with it!” Jisung interjected while brushing past Minho and dragging you in along behind him.

Their place was nice, like, really nice. Like, shit, what do these men do?! You knew 3RACHA was successful, but damn…

You also noticed the very obvious emptiness of it. “Where is everyone? I’m I early or something?”

“What do you mean?” Jisung hollered from the kitchen as he snatched the drinks away from his boyfriend to start preparing some glasses for the three of you.

“The party? Minho’s graduation from psycho class? Ring a bell?” You raised a brow, still avoiding eye contact with the grumpy elder that stood off to the side with his arms crossed.

Jisung looked confused momentarily before he showed a moment of realization and started cackling. “Oh sweetie! When we said party, we meant only the three of us!” He giggled wildly as he continued making the drinks and you glimpsed at Minho smiling adoringly at his giggling lover. You felt that odd shift in your gut again as you witnessed it. “By the way, babe.” Jisung added. “Thanks for bringing drinks, you’re the best!”

When Jisung handed you your drink, you hummed in response and quickly turned from the kitchen to hide your worried brows and wandered around the wide expanse of their home. “You guys must have thought my place was a hovel compared to this! Look how high the ceilings are!” You exclaimed as you periodically guzzled down huge gulps of your drink.

“You want a tour, baby?” Jisung said with a sultry tone, suddenly right behind you, leaning close to your ear. The feeling gave you shivers and you quickly took a step or two away to fight off the feeling that the sinful voice brought to you.

“Uh-uhh not right now! Um how about we get on to the festivities! What did you guys have planned for tonight?”

Minho raised a brow from where he was cautiously following and leaned up against the wall. “What exactly were you wanting to do?”

You bit your lip and felt the need to escape the intimidating glare. You quickly walked back into the living room and turned back to them. “Movie? Movies are always good!” You made yourself at home as you plopped down on their couch and reached for the TV remote.

Before you grabbed it, a hand grabbed you. “We have a TV in our bedroom. With surround sound too. The bed is nice and comfortable in there.” Minho looked like he was testing you as he narrowed his eyes and grabbed your wrist a bit tighter, face inching closer all the while.

You subtly tried to pull away. “I-It’s fine! I like it in here! It’s very spacious!” You grabbed his hand to remove it, but, even with the all the strength you harbored, his arms and hands were banded with thick muscles that were unrelenting. “Minho! What the fuck? Let go of me!”

“Minnie? What’s going on?” Jisung said in a soothing voice as he sat his drink down on the coffee table.

“That’s what I’d like to fucking know. What, exactly, is wrong? You’ve been barely speaking to us, desperately avoiding looking at us, and yet you still came here tonight! Are you just here to string us along?!”

You felt your blood boil and you stood up in a flare and the fury of your muscles finally ripped free of his grasp. “AND WHAT ABOUT ME, HUH?!” You shouted back at him, venom dripping from every syllable and making Jisung jolt in surprise. “Who the fuck is stringing who along here?! Because the way I see it, I’m just here as a fuck buddy to spice up your relationship!”

Minho was the one to look befuddled this time and neither one of them breathed a word.

You continued. “You heard my fucking pitiful story in class and decided it would be fun to coerce me into letting you and your boyfriend use me while I was still ‘weak and vulnerable’ and would be malleable enough to be convinced to fuck you both!” You scoffed a sarcastic laugh. “So why the fuck am I here? It’s obvious to anyone that you two are madly in love! While I’ve become a goddamn sex doll that’s to be used and discarded when you’re done with me! I am here because I AM weak!”

You felt fresh tears roll down your face and the men looked gobsmacked.

“I’m a fucking weak-ass whore that didn’t want to say goodbye!...” You sobbed at the painful word.

It was silent for a long while before Minho steeled his face and took a step towards you. “Min, wait…” Jisung said while putting his hand on the elder’s arm to stop him.

However, Minho easily stepped out of his grasp and came toe-to-toe with you. He looked down at your pitiful, damp, and flushed pout with a stone-cold expression. “Have you been fucking any men other than us?” You shook your head no, but maintained eye contact. “And have we ever said that this was just a fling?” You could only look down this time, but it was quickly turned up again by a gentle finger under your chin. “Then why in the fresh hell do you think you’re a whore?”

Your face turned doe-eyed and he released you so Jisung could also come and reassure you as well. “We never thought for a single second about leaving you. Why would you even think such a thing?” He looked at you sullenly.

Minho caught your attention again when he wiped your tears with his thumb. “This is exclusive, baby. We want you equally as much.” Your eyebrows raised and he smirked. “Even with all your pissed off brattiness.”

Jisung stepped forward and wiped the tears from the other cheek. “It might not exactly be… conventional, but would you be willing to give us a chance to date you? Please?” Lord, how could a man be so incredibly sexy and yet so adorable at the same time?

You offered a small smile to the men and gave a small nod, Han abruptly picking you up and swinging you around. When he sat you back down on your feet, your attention jerked to Minho when he roughly grabbed you by the waist. And growled against your lips. “And if you ever–”

“Oh shut the fuck up for once!” You halted him with irritation and smashed your lips against his to shut him up.

Once you knew he would drop it, (indicated by how he hungrily grabbed at you) you reached out a hand to grab the younger and transferred your lips to Han’s. He immediately responded and Minho moved around to circle you from the back while Jisung moved to face you, lips still attached along the way. You breathed a contented sigh when Jisung’s tongue met your own just as Minho began kissing his way down your neck.

It was when you felt both of them beginning to sport a semi that pressed into the front and back of you that you broke the kiss. “I think I want to see the bedroom now…” You hinted breathlessly as Jisung smiled against your lips and Minho mimicked the movement on the skin of your shoulder.

Without another word, Jisung picked you up to wrap your arms and legs around his body, and quickly led you further into their home.

__________________________________________

“Fuck! Yes! Oh GOD yes!!! Don’t stop Ji, please!” The men had you spread eagle on their bed and had been trading you back and forth for what felt like hours. The stamina these men had was outrageous to you and they had you shaking profusely after all of the orgasms they gave you.

Jisung currently had his face in your cunt, sipping and licking out both his and Minho’s combined cum from deep inside you. Minho, on the other hand, was straddled across your abdomen facing you, furiously fucking your titties like they made up his own personal fleshlight. “That’s it baby, hold them nice and tight for me–ngh…” Minho grunted as he sped up. You used your hands to push your breasts even tighter around him and he groaned.

You broke out in a sob when Jisung brought you, yet again, to another orgasm that night. Your voice was hoarse from both the cries of pleasure and the way they had fucked your throat earlier, but you were too blissed out to care.

With Minho being all you could see (and, fuck, what a sight it was…), you weren’t expecting it when you felt Jisung slowly slip his dick in you once again. How did these men manage to keep getting hard after coming so many times?

Indeed, there was cum absolutely everywhere. Your bodies, the bed, pillows and your hair had at least one or all three of your guy’s sexual fluids on them. You didn’t even care at this point.

At the end of the night, after they cleaned you and your swollen pussy in a warm bath and then laid you in a freshly-made bed, all you could think about was how grateful you were to get that stupid court order.

__________________________________________

If you’ve made it this far thank you for reading! I know Minho isn’t a bad person, it’s just reeeally hot when he gets mad. 😈 Please let me know what you think in the comments!

Please like, follow, and share! Thanks baby stays! 😘

And of course my squad:

@lyramundana

@channieandhisgoonsquad

@sweetracha

2chopsticks2eyes - Masterlist

2K notes · View notes

just-zy · 4 months

Text

Lost a letter (I)

pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem Reader!

summary: You have a hard time trying to swoon Wednesday, but having her roommate be your friend? It doesn't always end well.. Maybe..

A/N: hello! been awhile, hasn't it? here's a little something, I've been having writers block for so freaking long, I have this pending Vada fic rotting in my drafts cuz ion kno how to finish it 😭, but I'll find the time to finish it sooner.. eventually.. Anyways! Hopefully you guys enjoy this for the meantime. (Werewolf Reader!)

Warnings!: cursing, I don't know, my writing, lemme know if I have a bunch that needs to be put on warning!

part 2 || Masterlist

It was a random Tuesday afternoon, nothing too serious. Well for Wednesday Addams, it wasn't. Considering it was her writing time, she had no care of her surroundings, no care for the world at the moment, no care at all. Unlike you, you were sprawling, whining, and succumbing into the sheets of your mattress as if it was eating you alive. Enid being with you in your room, wasn't much of a help to your problem.

"Enid! You can't just tell her that I wanna take her out on a date! That's Wednesday Addams, that'd be a total turn off for her.." I fuss with her about that fact. She knows I'm right.

Enid looks at me like I was some kind of stray, "But isn't that what you wanna do? Wednesday likes straightforward people more." The blonde shrugs with a smile. A smug one. "I wouldn't even dare say a word to her, Sinclair." I grumbled in the sheets I was in, gosh I was so done with being in love.

"You know, you have a chance with her. She likes you." I heard shuffling and thought nothing of it, I scoffed at the thought.

Feeling the bottom of my bed dip, I peaked out of the covers and saw Enid smiling at me with a raised brow. "You do know I bite, right?"

She rolls her eyes at me and begins shaking my covered foot. "Why not make a letter? Get your feelings out before asking her on a date! Seems good, no?", looking at me with such hope. I had no heart to say no.

★

"Who... can tell me, how plants convert light energy into chemical energy?"

I wasn't much of a botany student, I didn't like botany, but I do have knowledge about this class. It didn't come off as hard for me as I thought it was. So, I raised my right hand, I did expect a few to try and answer as well, although it was just us three. Wednesday, Bianca, and Me.

"Oh! Yes! Y/N, can you tell me how?"

"Uh– well, through the process of photosynthesis. Photosynthesis is a critical process that sustains plant life and provides the foundation for the energy supply of nearly all living organisms on Earth.."

As I finished my answer, I heard a few whispers. I wasn't much of a talker, much more looked like I was a student in Nevermore considering I was a loner, so it was understandable. And, uncomfortable.

"Thank you for that, Miss Y/L/N."

Though, I couldn't help but avert my attention to my peripheral vision, Wednesday's desk was just right next to me. She was looking at me.

It might've caused me to shudder, just a bit.

★

"Botany class was something.." I said, chewing on the food I was eating.

Enid sat in front of me as we ate dinner. We were currently in the Quad, she insisted I tell her how I felt about what happened at Thornhills class earlier, even though she was present in the class.

"She was looking at you! I saw that!" She presses and starts eyeing me up and down. "Enid. You were asleep, how could you have seen that?" Chuckling at the thought of Enid just peaking at us and pretending to be asleep.

"I- uh- I felt it! I just know it. Honestly, you don't take my conclusions seriously!" She huffs and starts to chomp on her food so aggressively.

"But in all seriousness.. How's the letter going?" She leans to me a little closer, whispering as if what we talked about was something illegal.

"I– I don't know. I mean, I finished it last night, what about it?" I asked skeptically, I didn't exactly like where this question was headed.

"Give it to her!"

"Are you crazy?! You said nothing about giving it to her–!" I shrieked and felt my cheeks get warmer. I knew this girl was trouble. "But it is for her, right?.." She began straightening herself up,

"Enid. Sinclair. I swear to God you won't be able to see the light of day tomorrow if you satisfy that want of yours–"

"I'm sorry! She needs to know!"

She bolted out of her seat right before me!

Being both werewolves had its perks, we were faster, and stronger, compared to mortal strength.

But that doesn't change the fact that Enid's a werewolf as well! Idiot! Run faster!

"Sinclair!"

I didn't care how loud I was, I needed to get to my dorm first before she could. I was able to catch up to her on the hallways, thanks to the adrenaline, though it didn't help that she was a tad closer to getting inside before me.

My dorm was in sight, I pumped my legs faster and grabbed the back of her vest and she slipped to her bum. "Goddamnit Y/N! That hurt!" She stays in place and looks at me so hard I could feel my face grimacing.

I turned away from her and before I could run up to my room first, I felt her seize the opportunity by grabbing onto my left foot, making me fall forward and my face flat onto the wooden floor.

"Oh, fuck! I'm sorry!"

She apologizes and leaves me here? How sweet. I knew I lost, I couldn't move my body considering the painful aching on my face. I whined and winced at the pain.

She had a spare key, which was unfortunate. Although I didn't have a roommate, it was pretty lonely sometimes. Sometimes.

I heard shuffling, lots of shuffling. Does she not see the letter that was unluckily displayed on my desk.

Quietly but quickly standing up, I didn't even care how I felt my uniform started wrinkling. I went inside and saw her standing in the middle of the room, eyeing me menacingly. "Where is it, Y/L/N."

I thought about either telling her where it was or if I'd find it for myself... I fled to my desk where my letter was. Where the letter was supposed to be. Where it's placed. Which wasn't there.

"It's not here."

"I thought we've established that already.." I glanced at her, seeing her arms crossed.

"No– It's supposed to be here! I made sure I kept it here."

Oh no.

...

I've looked everywhere and decided to finally give up and wait until tomorrow. I'm sprawled onto my sheets thinking and recalling where I had last placed that damn letter, I didn't know where it could've went or how it could've been taken. Even Enid was worried about its whereabouts, I let out every emotion I felt for Wednesday on that individual letter. What would happen if someone took it and shared it publicly? I had my initials on that letter, and as well as Wednesday's!

Fuck my life. I should have never made that stupid letter.

I felt my eyelids drop slowly, maybe, tomorrow I'd finally grasp and tear that shit apart.

I'll find it before it finds Wednesday Addams.

★

A/N: bumbumbummm wadya think? I've decided to make this a series 🙀 I guess only a two parts series kinda thing... (I lost motivation and wanted to give u guys something before I lose my mind completely.)

#wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega #enid sinclair #masterlist #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna marie ortega #wednesday x fem!reader

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felibrary · 2 months

Text

╭──╯PAIRING: aventurine x fem!reader

CHAPTER SYNOPSIS: Out of everyone this could’ve happened to, of course, it struck you. As a barista, you meet new customers every day but a fateful encounter with a stupid(ly handsome) stranger, turns into two and three and to the point of no return, and somewhere along the way catching yourself faltering for his persistent charms annoyance.

WORDCOUNT: 4.2k

CONTENT & GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, barista!reader, cursing, light angst if you squint, fluff, march is the n1 shipper, vague mentions of ratio, banter and bickering (more from readers side), no beta-read we die like baiheng

AUTHOR'S NOTE: the last chapter was posted like 2 weeks ago? i think not sure. sorry guys i just had no motivation in the previous few weeks at all 😭😭 but here it is, enjoy! also just cause this took super long to write doesn't equal it being super good 😓

ART CREDITS: none of the characters or art belong to me all art credits go to @/kkuekkue on x!

TAGLIST: @azullumi,@sunananaa, @milksnake-tea, @iceunhie, @nayukiyukihira, @jjzlisu, @raideneiari (if you want to be added to the tag list write a comment or send me an off anon ask! ^^)

PREVIOUS || MASTERLIST || NEXT

“Order for uh.” you abruptly stop your sentence. Furrowing your brow in confusion you look at the questionable name that is written on the paper cup that you’re currently holding in your hand. Your gaze drifts over to the barista behind you. “March..” you whisper through gritted teeth, trying to maintain a smile while pausing for a brief moment to study the face of the girl with the cotton candy-like hair.

The short girl hums quietly, “What is it?” she tilts her head to the side, a milk-frothing pitcher in her right hand, almost empty. “And why are we whispering?” admittedly you’re not even sure yourself, after all, people come up with silly names all the time, so why are you refraining from saying this name out loud?

“Well, I'm whispering because I don't want the other customers to listen into our conversation, but, are you sure that you wrote the right name here?” you ask the girl behind you doubtfully before directing your view towards the letters that were written in cursive and were adorned by little stars and flowers drawn by none other than March.

The '*•.¸♡𝓐𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓮 ♡¸.•*' which she wrote in cursive (and if you may add, kind of crooked) made you raise your eyebrows as you held the cup in front of her face for her to see.

She always had a habit of drawing cute smiley faces or hearts onto the cups, reasoning it by saying that it’d sweeten the customers' day. Although you’re not sure if that’s really necessary, their day probably already gets sweetened enough from the amount of sugar and sweetener March puts into the drinks.

She huffs, feigning hurt and acting offended by your question “If you want to suspect someone, blame her!” March’s eyes drift over to the silver-haired girl who is currently sitting next to the trash can near the staff rooms, playing video games and thus blocking the way: Stelle.

The girl in question quickly lifts her head and just smiles sheepishly as if not knowing what’s going on right now. “She’s the one who gave me the receipts and told me the names before you took over, I just added the condiments and started creating cute latte art!.” you sigh at that. Well, whoever gave Stelle their name will probably be able to recognize it sooner or later anyway.

The worst case scenario that could probably happen is the customer putting their hands on the counter and starting to scream and yell at you to the point where their spit lands in your eyes. Urging to talk to your manager: Pompom. If the customer would see them the customer would probably start scolding you for bringing out the mascot instead of the manager, leaving the shop and giving you zero stars on Maps. (definitely not talking from any former experiences.) Yeah, hopefully, that won’t happen.

You let out a throaty cough before loudly shouting once again “Order for Aventurine!” you really wonder whose mom named their kid after a quartzite stone now — hell, if you let your guard down, the next person who you’d have to call up is someone named Ashleigh or Jonaslian.

What’s up with women who are only maybe one or two decades older than, and their obsession with horrible baby names?

“Hellooo” the o of the greeting gets dragged out by the owner of the sing-song voice. “Earth to the cashier.” The next thing you know is a hand that is covered in a black leather glove, waving at your face, moving in a repetitive up-and-down motion. The gesture makes you snap out of the haze which you were in, and slightly shake your head, before looking up at the customer and getting a good glance at them.

In front of you stood possibly the hottest man you’ve ever seen. Blond silky hair and was dressed in a crisp black waistcoat that was draped around his slim torso, wearing a turquoise button-up underneath it that was adorned with gold decorations around his collar. His tie that matched his waistcoat was adjusted perfectly so that it sat in the right place. Black leather gloves envelop his slender fingers.

The last time you were enamored by someone was when you were 9 reaching 10, and seeing Asami Sato bumping into Mako with her motorcycle on TV for the first time made you fall head over heels in love with her. That woman had younger you in a chokehold.

You feel your body tensing and heating up slightly. Fuck, has it always been this warm here? Your eyes sway over to the air conditioner behind you. No, that can't possibly be it, you made sure that the A/C was on the highest level before opening the cafe.

The blond in front of you raises his eyebrow and looks at you expectantly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as his eyes shift over your face as if studying your expression. There’s amusement that settles onto his face — smugness would be the best word to describe it.

Shit, there was no way he found out that you were fawning over him.

“Take a picture. It lasts longer sweetheart.” he shoots you a small wink and you’re not sure whether to feel impressed or horrified at the fact that he was able to read you as easily as an open book where the most important words are already highlighted in a bold colour.

So you remain silent — speechless, to be precise. There’s a familiar feeling bubbling up in your chest, one that makes you all giddy and nervous. How can someone whom you never met enarmour you so much? It’s weird, but it’s weirder that it feels all too familiar. Suspicion arises within you.

“Hmm?” Aventurine — or whatever his name may be, tilts his head to the side, a questioning and innocent expression manifesting on his face that it almost makes him look like a young boy who still has to grasp the concepts of the many fundamentals of the world.

“Spacing out already? Am I that handsome?” Yeah, keyword: almost.

It takes a second to compose yourself again before speaking up again. “Yeah.” Your eyes form into crescent moons as you give him a small faux smile (how March likes to call it: your customer service smile) before your face contorts into an expression of unpleasantness “No, in your dreams Mister. Also please hurry up, you’re holding up the line.” You point behind him and he angles his head backwards to see..no one?

“There’s no one there.” This time it’s him who looks unimpressed, a deadpan expression gracing over his features and you do have to admit that he looks kind of cute with that expression. Oh god, what were you thinking? “You know you’ll have to do better than try to tri-”

Before he can even finish his sentence you quickly cut him off. “With cash or with card?” Your customer service smile from before finds its way onto your face once more. “Miss, you’re so cruel! You didn’t even let me fini-” “I repeat. With cash or with card?”

Your patience was running thin. Lucky for him he’s somewhat respectful and cute while bothering you and not going on your nerves. If he were some weirdo, you would’ve scurried away already. People like him (unfortunately) remind you that pretty privilege does exist.

His gloved hand dives into the depths of the pockets of his slacks before pulling out a leather wallet and revealing a black card. Oh great, a rich guy. “With card.” he sighs dramatically. Do all rich people behave like this? “Sir, this is a café not an acting audition for some teenage romance drama.” You’re not sure what to think of this guy, on one hand, his attempts are cute on the other it’s kind of weird that he’s flirting with a cashier whom he met 5 minutes ago. “Just.” You hesitate before speaking up again. “Just type your PIN in here and you’re done.” He nods and continues to do so which the small sound the machine makes confirms.

At that, you give him a small nod as a gesture of thankfulness, before attempting to kick him out again. “Great, thank you. Now please go and I wish you a good day.”

“But how am I supposed to have a good day without yo-”

“You’ll live.” you wave him goodbye and that leaves him with no other choice but to step back and leave.

Maybe you’re hallucinating and maybe you’re just imagining it but before he leaves he gives you a small smile. The soft and charming glow that emanates from his eyes resonates well with the dusking sun as if they were reflecting the last golden rays of sunshine before they were to be engulfed by the warm hues of the sky and later on painted black like the night. An inexplicable feeling rises in your chest as he bids you goodbye, wishing you a nice day.

“Oh he so has a massive crush on you.” you shudder upon hearing March’s voice. Her words ring in your ears like Christmas bells chiming during the holiday season. Loud and obnoxious. You try to drain the thoughts away but how can you when the source who started it all is right behind you? Continuously gushing about how that handsome stranger must have an enormous crush on you.

“The group chat has to know about this!” March enthusiastically squeals and quickly fishes her phone out of her pockets. Before you’re even able to realize what is bound to happen let alone prevent her from aggressively typing on her phone, she’s already sent the first message.

At that you can only bury your face into the palms of your hand, face sinking into your hands in embarrassment. As much as you love March, it sometimes feels like she’s the oldest of the group and not Mr. Yang. Not in terms of matureness and wiseness, no more like in the sense of the kind of mom who has to share each and every one of her baby’s accomplishments online, but not as bad though, of course. Still.

“I hate you,” you complain, words muffled by the palms of your hands.

“I love you too.” she quips cheerfully, a smirk on her lips.

Safe to say March was in charge of cleaning and tidying up the café for the whole shift.

“Aww the handsome guy from yesterday isn’t here today.” March coos into your ear, a frown is displayed on her lips. She frowns, but you can see the hints of playfulness that linger in her expression. “Put on such a nice show yesterday only to chicken out. Booo, lameeee.” March rolls her eyes in amusement, giggling while doing so.

Although you didn’t want to agree with what March had to say, she’s somewhat right. You full-heartedly believed that he’d visit again today after the move he pulled off yesterday or perhaps you wanted him to visit him again.

You quickly shook your head at that thought, brushing the idea of someone paying you a visit at work off to humor you a bit. There was absolutely no way you wanted to see him again.

“It’s early in the morning and you’re trying to shake the dandruff out of your hair already?” “Not funny Mar-” There was no fucking way.

If this wasn’t a deja vu, you don’t know either. It’s almost as if the interaction of yesterday was replaying right in front of your eyes and once again catching you off guard.

“You know it’s not polite to blatantly stare at people right?” he spoke with a chuckle as he observed your irritated face. “Frowning like that will make you gain wrinkles.” The twitching on your right eye doesn’t go unnoticed by him and he can only chuckle at that, seemingly amused by your morning misery.

“What are you doing here.” you can only mutter a single question out, dumbfounded by him appearing in front of you once again. “Hm, am I not allowed to come by? I mean, everything’s quite affordable in here and this place isn’t far away from my workplace either sooo.”

Well, you can’t judge him for that. “Then, what do you want?” with a sigh you pluck one of the sticky notes of the block of colorful sticky notes, ready to write his order and name down. “Someone’s in a bad mood.” he chirps. A blank stare is the only thing you provide him as an answer and at that, he can only chuckle, it’s obvious that he’s enjoying this. “An Iced Americano would be nice. Thanks.”

“Mhmm, noted.” you quickly scribbled his order down onto the quadratic paper before shouting March’s name over your shoulder. “Can you come here to keep our dear customer company? I’ll prepare his drink in the meantime.” you shoot Aventurine a heavy side-eye before darting your gaze back to March. The girl only giggles in response before happily skipping over to the counter.

“Aww, do you want to extra prepare my drink?” upon hearing his remark you turn around. Meeting a pair of pink eyes which were covered behind long blond lashes, scanning your figure from a close distance.

Nervosity crawls at your skin as you feel yourself getting watched by him. It’s weird — screw that, he’s weird.

“Close!” a giggle accompanies your words. “Actually, I just really wanna get away from you. Have fun with him March.” scoffing, you turn around again.

It didn’t take you long to prepare his order, filling a cup with ice cubes and pouring some shots of espresso over them was a piece of cake. “Here” You hand him his drink and he nods in contentment before handing you a few coins, a cheeky grin appears on his face and you can see the amusement glimmering in his pink eyes. “See you tomorrow” he chuckles and upon that March nudges your side, which in response you can only give her an exasperated groan.

“Yep. Head over heels in love.” she quips as soon as Aventurine is out of sight, and you have to fight the urge to slam your forehead against the counter.

Your third encounter with Aventurine occurred on a fairly rainy day. With sluggish movements and wet clothes, soaked from head to toe he slumped over to the counter and grinning as soon as he saw you.

“Hey.” it takes you a moment to process the situation and reluctantly you reply. “Hey.” Your eyes scan over his figure, his white dress shirt is completely translucent now and you can’t help but let your eyes drift to the tattoo on his neck, down to his collarbone which is visibly poking out, and his slim waist, ribs only covered by a thin layer of pale skin.

Aventurine seems to catch on pretty quickly and wraps himself into his blazer, seemingly uncomfortable by the way you’re looking at him.

You quickly gather your words, and voice an apology. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shamelessly stare, that was rude again, I’m so sor-” “It’s fine.” Aventurine interrupts, cutting your apology curt while huffing out a tired sigh. The exasperation that resides in his voice implies that he obviously doesn’t want to dwell on this topic any further.

A meek nod is the only response you’re able to give. “Can I just get the same thing I’ve had last time? Thanks.” he pulls out his card, ready to pay for his order.

“Really? An Iced Americano during this weather?” you let out a small chuckle with which you’re trying to lighten up the tense atmosphere that built up between the two of you.

At the sound of your light laughter, Aventurine’s eyes flicker over your face. “You remember my order?” he asks dumbfounded.

“Well yeah, no one besides teenage girls order an Iced Americano.” you joke, the usual sarcasm back in your voice. It quenches his former uneasiness, your light-hearted words soothing him like a cool steam dripping into his parched heart.

The corners of his lips twitch and he can’t help but smile. “Oh, shut up.” His signature smirk graces his lips and upon catching sight of it you can’t help but also let out a fond smile.

“Will.. a freshly black brewed coffee do?” you’re careful when asking him. Nervousness crawls at your skin in anticipation.

“Black coffee?” he hums. “Yeah, that should work. Thanks.” the reassuring smile he gives you makes your tense shoulder drop in relief, easing the worry that previously swam in your stomach.

You disappear into the kitchen, searching for the container that stores the coffee beans to prepare his drink, in the meantime, Aventurine quickly types into his phone before erasing the words as fast as he wrote them.

The fresh scent of coffee beans engulfs your nose and you can’t help but smile. Freshly brewed coffee always reminds you of home; someone in whose arms you can bury yourself in, nudging your nose into their chest as they cage you with their arms, softly embracing you. The rattling of a coffee machine in the background rings in your ears, but the only thing you can focus on is a voice that softly caresses the shell of your ear.

Domesticity washes over you — it’s all too familiar.

Aventurine’s drink is prepared in no time and you set it on the counter which makes him look up from his phone, giving you a weak smile before wrapping his hand around the drink. It’s still hot to touch, the warmth spreading over his hand in an instant like wildfire, it’s nice — the feeling of warmth enveloping his cold hand is nice.

“Well, I’ll get going now.” his announcement catches you off guard, and impulsively you reach out to tug on his sleeve to prevent him from leaving. The action leaves both you and Aventurine surprised. Curious, the blond raises an eyebrow and grins (oh how much you want to wipe that stupid grin off his face), expectantly awaiting your next move.

“Sorry.” you cough apologetically before quickly letting go of his semi-dried sleeve. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea to go out again when it’s still raining. If I were you I’d just wait until the rain stops.” Upon hearing your sincere suggestion, Aventurine’s grin falters and instead slowly molds into a fond smile that makes you inexplicably warm.

“Aww, don’t tell me you're worried that I might catch a cold?” You counter his playful remark with one of your own. “Well, yeah. Who else is supposed to give me a generous tip?” At that Aventurine can only laugh and the smile you’ve been trying to hold back escapes.

“Touché.”

From there on visits from Aventurine became frequent, always coming during your shift or during your break to chatter with you about mindless topics. You got used to his visits, and even when you gave off the impression of showing no interest in his ramblings, you always lent him an ear, carefully listening to what he had to say about his pets or his grumpy friend.

(He told you that the both of you resemble each other in some way, aloof on the outside but caring on the inside. In response, you shot him a big side eye, cause what does he mean by aloof?)

The small conversations exchanged between the two of you, ranged between topics of the latest spots that have just opened, to operas and musicals and eventually work.

His work to be specific.

Curiosity got the better of you and you couldn’t help but ask: “Aventurine.” upon hearing his name sliding off your tongue, he hums in acknowledgment. “What is it?” you scan his attire, the material of his black blazer is slightly crumpled and the turquoise button-up he’s wearing underneath seems to be the same one as the one when you first met him.

“What the hell do you even work as? I mean what kind of job requires you to wear a new suit every day?” befuddlement manifests on your face. “Ah, well.” Aventurine hesitates for a moment, mouth slightly agape before closing it once again as if searching for the right words to say. “I’ve told you that I work here right down the street right? I’m a teaching assistant at St. Freya University for my friend.” he gives you a small and coy smile.

“Oh, that prestigious university for rich kids?” at that Aventurine slightly raises his eyebrows as if surprised by your remark before quietly laughing. “Mhm, I suppose you could say so.” “I should’ve known that you taught there, I bet you also went there for university.” It’s only a joking remark you made upon impulse but the amusement on Aventurine’s face slightly dissipates, replaced with a sheepish expression.

“I didn’t go to university.”

“What?”

“What do you mean you didn’t go to university? I mean as teaching a-” “I-i started working from a very early age on and not as a teaching assistant it’s only a job for me to help my friend with.” he quickly corrects himself. “Oh.” “Yeah.” he hums, looking away.

The silence is unbearable. It’s weird and unusual for you to not hear Aventurine chatter into your ear. “So uhm.. what do you teach or help with?” the embarrassment quickly rises to your cheeks and you turn your head downwards to avoid any eye contact. God, why’s initiating a conversation so hard and always fucking awkward.

“Interested in joining? Want me to sign you up?” you’re relieved upon hearing Aventurine immediately responding, lifting your head only to be met with soft pink eyes that are already earnestly admiring you.

Your deadpan expression tells him more than enough and he chuckles more to himself than to you. “Well, my friend, he has high expectations for his students. To some people, he might appear strict, but really, it’s for their own well-being — not his. He cares about his students a lot. Sharing his knowledge about certain topics and seeing the potential in all of them, for them to pick the information up and be able to use it. So the things he does in his classes differ, from practical to theoretical classes and I’m just there to assist with my knowledge.” the small smile that quirks at his lips doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Okay, okay, well enough about me, what about you? Any plans for the weekend?” Aventurine smoothly changes the topic.

Upon being asked what your plans are your eyes immediately light up with excitement. “I’ve been meaning to visit the fair for a while now. Trying out the new rides and stuff you know?” Aventurine momentarily pauses. “Ah, I’ve actually never been to a fair.” his admission comes over as surprising to you.

“Wait what? You’ve never been to a fair? You’re lying!”

“I’m not! Or maybe I am.” he laughs. “Well, I might have gone to some but I can’t recall anything like that. Perhaps I was too short, too young, or too much of a pussy to try out one of the rides.”

Before you can even think of how to respond to that, you blurt out a: “Go with me then!” You’re not even sure how you had the courage to ask that, especially to someone whom you’ve only met a month or hell a few weeks ago, you’re even less sure where that question even came from.

From what you can read off Aventurine’s face, he seems to be as equally surprised as you, mouth slightly agape and lips forming a smile as he stares at you with expectant eyes.

“Really?” Disbelief settles onto his face.

“Thinking about it now, nope.” The light in Aventurine’s eyes immediately dies down, suddenly looking like a kicked puppy who didn’t get any belly rubs. It somehow makes you feel bad — somehow you sympathize with him. “..Fine.” you mumble. You can’t believe yourself. “Though there’s one condition: You’ll have to pay for everything.”

“Sure, no problem.” Aventurine agrees without any hesitation and that makes you skittish. “I was joking!” He gives you a boyish grin “Well, I know but it’s not like it’s a big deal either. Also, can this be considered a date?” he props his elbow up and places his cheek onto his balled fist, smirking while doing so.

“Aventurine,” you say in a stern voice. “Don’t make me change my mind.”

Your irritated eyes meet his fond ones. “I’m glad.” he expresses and you’re caught off guard by his sincere tone. There’s no teasing or playfulness behind it, just pure gratefulness.

“Is it alright if I have your number? It’s easier to reach you then.” the smirk plastered on his face is enough to tell you what the actual intention behind his words is.

“Admit it. You just want my number, don’t you?” you deadpan him.

“Hmm, who knows?” the grin on his face only grew wider, amused by the fact that you caught on so quickly.

Swiftly you fish out your phone from your pockets, unlocking it before showing him your phone number, and before you can even ask how he’s saved your number; which contact name he typed in for you, he pulls his phone away. Smiling in triumph upon seeing your irritated face.

He gets up from the chair he’s been sitting on for the past few minutes. “Well, your break is about to end soon, so I’ll take my leave.” your eyes follow him as he checks if he’s got everything. “See you tomorrow then:” he says in a playful tone before leaving.

Yeah, you’re going to meet your demise, you just know it.

END NOTE: this is just idk man we're gonna progress more in the future chaps okay 😔

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leilakisakabiri · 1 year

Note

Can I request something with Gavi being barely even home resulting to reader feeling lonely and empty? A fluffy ending please! Gracias a todos!

You're Losing Me (Gavi)

Summary: You and Gavi's relationship is slowly falling apart - and neither of you know how to save it.

Warnings: Angst. Toxic behavior.

A/N: This request literally revived me so thank you. I’m so excited to write angst hopefully you like it! Also thank you guys for 1k notes on Surprise, here’s my gift to you. Please send requests!

Word count: 6.8k+

Masterlist

It was the fourth Tuesday in a row that you ate alone in your apartment. The fourth time Gavi had skipped out on your plans last minute, sending a quick half-hearted text about one event or the other.

The first time it was because Coach had asked Gavi to stay after practice, keen on teaching him the perfect one-touch shot. Then it was a missed dinner because Jordi Alba had invited him out with some other players, and he just couldn’t say no, because he was finally starting to feel like a part of the family - like the older players had finally started to respect him.

Of course you hadn’t minded the first few times, he had been apologetic enough, promising you that he would be there next time, but each next time took on the next week, and soon the prospect of next time didn’t hold as much meaning anymore. You were accustomed to reading those words by now, and you rarely took time to read over the dwindling text messages anymore, eyes only scanning for those two words, the ones that had become a staple in your relationship.

Next time.

Next time you would cook dinner for him and he would be there to eat it. Next time he would tell you he loved you in person, rather than getting an impassive ‘sorry cariño’. The thought of next time, which once seemed like a lifeline to you, had become a dull reminder of the boy who was just on the other side of the city, only a measly train ride separating you both. Yet the distance seemed much greater.

But now the football season was drawing to a close, and instead of being excited at the notion of having more time to spend together, you felt uneasy and on edge, almost as if you were waiting for the other shoe to drop, something to come up, making the distance between the two of you that much more tangible.

You felt your phone buzz next to you and your eyes unintentionally went to the clock.

9:45 pm.

The texts were getting later and later each time.

You already knew what awaited you, but you couldn’t help but scan the message regardless.

“Can’t come tonight, only have a few days till the season ends and the guys wanna make the most of it. Be there next time. Noche.”

There it was again, that unexplainable feeling in your chest, like your heart was always one step ahead of your brain, preparing for the loss of something that hadn’t yet left. Your mind was an incomprehensible mess, a jumble of contrasting thoughts and memories, forcing you to overthink situations and undervalue your emotions.

You lifted your head watching your roommate land with a thump on the couch beside you, “He canceled again, didn’t he?”

You opened your mouth, an excuse on the tip of your tongue.

She held up her hand, “Don’t try to defend him. He knows it isn’t fair.”

You avoided her gaze, “You don’t get it. He’s really in demand and-”

“It doesn’t matter that he’s famous or a professional athlete, that doesn’t discredit his actions, or put the blame on anyone but him.”

She continued, “Look Gavi’s a good guy, I like him,” you stared at her, “I do! But he’s stupid if he doesn’t realize that he’s losing you. I know you, and while you might make excuses for him now, I know that sooner or later you’re going to notice that he hasn’t been treating you like you deserve, and you’ll be smart enough to leave.”

You felt the impact of her words full force, like a sledgehammer beating into your body. All the signs were there, right in front of your face, and you had been turning a blind eye, not wanting to admit what your heart already knew.

You knew it. The distance you had felt hadn’t been in vain – every day you could feel the connection between the two of you chip away, so small, you wouldn’t think to notice it till you stood back and looked at the bigger picture.

As a result of both your busy schedules, you both had come up with the idea of having Tuesday night, the most boring day of the week as agreed on, reserved for just the two of you. On Tuesday you didn’t have classes that ran well past dinner time or have to pick up late-night shifts at the restaurant, and he didn’t have evening practice. It was perfect. Tuesday was yours.

Except it had been four weeks since you’d had a proper conversation with Gavi, and you couldn’t help but see the difference in your relationship when you first got together, both eager and determined to spend as much time together as possible, to now, where even if you attended his games, you two still managed to get away without speaking.

You shook your head, “I-I need to take a walk.”

She reached over placing a hand on your shoulder, “Y/n. I’m sorry-”

You shook it off, standing up, “No it’s ok, it’s not your fault. I just need to clear my head.”

You felt the cool night breeze hit you as you walked the streets of Barcelona. It was unusually quiet in this part of town, the lights from the main strip didn’t reach this far out, and for a moment the quiet reminded you of your hometown.

If you closed your eyes, it was almost like you were fifteen again, back in your childhood bedroom, before the ideas of pretty boys with big brown eyes and the weight of managing both university and a job plagued all your thoughts.

You reached a lookout point, the top of the hill dropping to show you the expansive city below. You stared out, the buildings looked so small up here, barely more than a glowing dot in the dark, the cars a blur of soft yellow. You wondered which tiny dot Gavi was in. You wondered if he had checked his phone, seeing that you hadn’t texted him back like you usually did. You wondered if he even cared.

You shook your head trying to get rid of the unwanted thoughts.

Your relationship with Gavi was good. He made you laugh like nobody else, whispering secrets in each other’s ears like schoolchildren, making forts out of old sheets in his childhood bedroom when you met his family for the first time. You remembered his sweet smile, the way his eyes would crinkle unintentionally when he couldn’t hold back his excitement or happiness. You remembered confiding in him about school, how you were so stressed because you couldn’t manage eighteen credits while simultaneously holding a job that required you to be on your feet for hours at a time. You could still feel the soft caress of his hand, as he squeezed yours, providing you comfort, cracking a badly executed joke here and there just to get you to smile while listing a hundred reasons why if anyone could do it, it would be you.

So, if he made you feel all those things, why did his absence make you feel so tiny, so insignificant?

Your finger hovered over the call button, and you hit it hesitantly.

You just wanted to hear his voice.

That would be enough.

It rang seven times before the line went dead.

It took you a moment to realize you hadn’t put your phone up to your ear, waiting with bated breath for the timer on the screen to start, indicating he had picked up, but it never did.

You stuffed your phone back into your pocket, the same unsteady feeling in your heart strumming.

Once.

Twice.

Then it was gone.

You came home to a quiet apartment and your roommate already asleep.

You shuffled into your room silently, you would give it one more week you decided. Next time would be the last.

The next week came, and while it was the first week Gavi had off from training, he had already planned to go to Ibiza to attend a music festival with his hometown friends. He had invited you, but it was more of an afterthought, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to go because of rushed ‘you can come if you want’ and a barely there apology so you left it.

You got an ‘I’ll miss you’ text from him and for a moment it made you smile, filling you with warmth. However, an ‘I miss you’ only did so much, and other than his sweet messages, there was really no intent behind his words.

Now it had been two days since Gavi had gotten back from his Ibiza trip, and you couldn’t hide the surprise on your face when you glanced over and saw a Facetime call from Gavi.

When was the last time the two of you had Facetimed? Maybe two months ago? It was much easier to send a text, the times both of you were free were few and far between.

You answered the call, pushing your textbook to the side. The dark grey interior of Gavi’s car greeted you.

“Hello?” You asked.

“Hey, Y/n long time no talk.” Gavi joked, but you felt your stomach flip at the truth behind his words.

“I can’t see you.” You said.

“Oh shit, did I accidentally Facetime? My bad I told Siri to call and she must have Facetimed instead. Let me call you.”

You went to speak but heard the three beeps indicating the call had been cut.

You heard the phone ring again and bit back a sigh. You just wanted to see his face.

You answered on the second ring.

“Hey sorry about that. I wanted to call and tell you that I’m back from Ibiza.”

“Yeah, I know.” You admitted, “I remembered.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Well, anyways I wanted to ask you to come with me to the Spanish football gala tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

You heard some shuffling and suddenly Gavi’s voice was much clearer and closer to the phone. You assumed he took it off speaker.

“Can you not come?”

You hesitated, “Uhm I’m not sure. It’s so last minute and I’m already scheduled at the restaurant tomorrow.”

“Can’t you just take off?” He persisted.

You felt your brow furrow, “I’m already on the schedule, I can’t just decide to take off the day before, I need to find someone to replace me.”

“Ok, tell whoever that I’ll sign a jersey for them if they do.”

You suddenly felt angry. Why did he think that you could only get a day off work if he helped you out? Were you not capable of handling your own situations? You hated feeling like this, like you weren’t even your own person, just a shadow of who you were with.

“No that’s fine. I’ll just take off like you said, simple.” You couldn’t help but let the bitterness seep into your voice.

He went to say something, probably sensing the shift in your mood, but you cut him off, “I have to go. Bye Gavi.”

You hung up before he could respond.

Finding someone to replace your shift was easier said than done, but after some back and forth, and a promise to Marcus to cover his next two shifts, you were free.

Free to prance around in a hall filled with people you barely knew, with a boy who you thought about more in your memories than you saw in real life.

The night of the gala arrived, and you were decked out, wearing the earrings Gavi had gifted you for your one-year anniversary paired with a necklace you had received after graduating high school.

Gavi had originally said he would pick you up but had sent a quick text earlier in the morning explaining that the team was getting ready together at a hotel, and to just meet him at the venue.

Your roommate had agreed to drive you and you gave her a grateful smile as you got in the car.

“Ana thank you for taking me.”

She brushed the comment off playfully, “No problem. Gotta step up when Gavi steps down.”

You let out a short laugh, “My hero.”

You got to the venue a couple of minutes before you had planned to meet Gavi and nervously walked around, staying out of the path of cameras.

You found someone to take you to a tent where some Barca staff were waiting for the players to start the program.

You walked in, a surprised look taking over your face once you noticed Pedri and a few other players in the corner.

You weren’t aware that some of the players from the hotel had arrived yet.

Pedri noticed your entrance and came over to say hello.

You gave him a quick hug, making casual small talk.

Just ask him, a voice in the back of your head urged.

Finally, you bit the bullet, attempting to sound as casual as possible, “How did you guys get here so early? I thought everyone was leaving the hotel at 6.”

“Ehh, it wasn’t that important, so I skipped it. Half the guys didn’t go anyway, and the other half just went to play FIFA. Besides I beat them every time, so it gets a little boring after a while.”

You tried to laugh at his joke, but could only manage a watery smile, mind running a mile a minute.

So Gavi hadn’t actually needed to go but chose to.

Leaving you alone.

Again.

It wasn’t a big deal by itself. But it was the fact that this was just another item you could add to your ever-growing list of things Gavi cared about more than you. You wondered briefly if you had been wrong, and if he had missed some other event to be there with you, only to remind yourself that you hadn’t seen him in a month, so no, he hadn’t.

You were still grappling with your emotions when Gavi arrived, unsure whether to confront him or just let this be another thing you swept under the rug.

Your reunion, if you could even call it that, was lackluster at best. He had walked in with some of his teammates, immediately going to greet the rest of his team, completely ignoring you standing on the right side of the room with Pedri.

It was only once he asked where Pedri was that someone pointed the two of you out.

You felt your body deflate; he hadn’t even asked for you.

Were you overthinking things again? Maybe he had just forgotten in the excitement of seeing his whole team for the first time after the season ended?

Gavi made his way over to the two of you, reaching out to Pedri first. You watched as they exchanged a hug before Gavi’s eyes floated over to yours.

“Hey.” His voice was casual, like he was greeting a mailman, or thanking the cashier.

“Hi.”

You closed the space, attempting to hug him, but he grabbed your shoulders stopping you, looking down.

You followed his gaze.

“I don’t want to wrinkle the dress.”

You felt your heart thud against your chest, and while you knew he only had good intentions, the rejection still stung.

You stepped out of his embrace, watching his hands drop to his sides, “Okay.”

The carpet went by in a blur, you posed with Gavi for a few photos before moving to the side and letting him enjoy the spotlight, he had worked hard for it. You took a couple of photos with some of the other teammate's girlfriends and wives before you headed inside.

Once inside, there was still some time left before the actual dinner portion of the gala started. The gala was held for all Spanish football clubs as a celebration of their hard work during the season. It was also a great event to network, giving players the ability to talk with different coaches and directors they otherwise might not have gotten the chance to, allowing for discussions of thinly veiled preseason transfers to commence without the fear of unwanted ears listening in.

You found Gavi in the crowd quickly, linking your arm with his. He looked over at you, a smile taking over his features once he noticed you.

“Glad you found me.”

You noticed with great relief that his eyes still crinkled in the corners when he looked at you,

“I always do.”

The next however many minutes spent till dinner service started comprised of Gavi talking with various different players and directors as you stood like a shiny accessory off his arm, too insignificant to be acknowledged in conversation.

The call for dinner provided you solace from the repetitive conversations and mundane questions. You took a seat next to Gavi and were confused to find both Joao Felix and Antoine Griezmann seated at your table.

You leaned into Gavi, “I thought the clubs sat together?”

“Me too. I think they’re doing alphabetical tonight though.” He whispered.

“Which one’s your least favorite?” You looked up shocked at Gavi’s question, watching a boyish grin take over his features as he tried to hide his laugh, interlacing your fingers on your lap.

You shoved into him lightly, “They’re sitting right there!”

He leaned in closer, nose softly grazing your ear as he spoke, “Yeah but between me and you, I think Joao could have had a better season in Chelsea.”

You shook your head in disbelief, fighting back the smile that was threatening to spill out. Your eyes caught his and for a second it seemed like you had been transported back in time, back to when these types of moments were the standard not the exception, back when it felt like you were on each other sides, back when laughter was the antidote instead of tense silences filled with awkward hello’s.

His eyebrow lifted ask if to ask if you agreed with him, and a small murmur of agreement from you was all he needed before he opened his mouth, ready to hammer his point home, but his attention switched last second.

It was like you could visibly see the shift in his demeanor. First, it was his eyes glancing past yours, seeing the midfielder approaching. Then it was the subtle grip on your hand loosening, his fingers slipping through the gaps. Next, it was the complete shift in body, his posture straightening as he leaned his body away from yours, position shifting to face Pedri who had sat in the spot next to him.

To his credit, Pedri acknowledged the both of you but it was clear Gavi paid no mind to you, not evening sparing you a glance as he became immersed in a conversation with Pedri.

You tried to pretend it didn’t affect you and while you could lie to everyone else, you couldn’t lie to yourself. You had built up this evening up so much in your head, telling yourself that tonight would be the shifting point in your relationship and that everything would go back to the way it once was, but it was shaping up to be another Tuesday you had become all too familiar with.

Why did it feel like you were always competing for his attention?

Your mind was reeling, all the small actions Gavi did that you kept pushing aside, were floating back to the surface, each little remark or dismissal a little tug on your heartstrings till you were sure that if you stayed at the table a for a moment longer you wouldn’t be able to stop the onslaught of tears quickly approaching.

You stood from the table abruptly, catching a few people’s attention, but you gave them a polite smile, or at least you hoped it had been polite, you couldn’t focus on anything but the stinging in your eyes and the sinking feeling in your stomach.

You swiftly walked towards the restroom, glancing over your shoulder to see if anyone had noticed but your eyes fell on Gavi’s form. He hadn’t even bothered turning around.

Of course, he hadn’t.

Somehow that hurt more than anything else.

You were immensely grateful for the single-use restroom as you locked yourself in, shaky hands coming to steady yourself on the sink.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry.

You were internally screaming at yourself, begging yourself to keep yourself together but the feeling was too overwhelming and before you could stop you felt the first tears slip down. Your shoulders shook as you forced yourself to be silent, embarrassed about someone walking by and overhearing you pitying yourself.

One hand covered your mouth as you muffled your sobs, while the other dug into the stupid marble sink until the skin was pink and indented. The pain acted as a distraction from the unbearable pressure in your chest, and you instinctively pushed your hand harder into the sink.

Your fingers felt numb as you slowly removed them, closing your eyes to steady yourself. It was obvious that you weren’t in the best mental state, but you couldn’t exactly sit in the bathroom for the next hour to sort it out. You had to clean yourself up and go back to pretending.

Yes, pretending, you realized, was exactly what you had been doing. This whole night you had been pretending, pretending everything was okay, pretending that your relationship was fine when in truth you couldn’t even remember what Gavi’s laugh sounded like.

When had it become all pretend?

Was there anything left here? Were your best years behind you both?

These unanswered questions haunted you as you calmed yourself down, wrapping around you like a blanket, one that provided you no comfort but rather a feeling of suffocation.

Finally, your eyes had dried, and the redness had faded significantly. You had gotten your breathing under control, and you felt a little lighter having stopped denying what had been plaguing your mind for weeks now.

You took one final glance in the mirror, smoothing out your dress as you exited the restroom.

You walked slowly back to the table. You had decided that if you could just get through tonight, go home, and cry and think some more, then by tomorrow morning you would be able to talk to Gavi and decide what to do.

But that plan had flown out the window when you arrived back at the table to a confused Gavi.

It seemed he had finally noticed your absence.

“Where did you go? They served dinner 15 minutes ago.”

“I had to use the restroom.”

“For 15 minutes?”

“There was a queue.” You lied.

He seemed to accept your answer and you chose to focus on your food rather than him.

You were halfway through your meal when you noticed Gavi giving you a double take from the corner of your eye.

“Your eyes are red.” He spoke in a hushed voice.

“I don’t know why.”

“Are you sure?” His attention was beginning to slip again, eyes darting back between you and Pedri.

“Yes, I’m fine.” You heard your voice waver on the last syllable, a tick you had when you were lying, and Gavi immediately picked up on it, facing you fully.

“What’s wrong?”

You shook your head not wanting to get into everything here.

“I’m ok.”

“You’re not.”

“Gavi.” You warned.

“What happened? Did someone say something?”

“No. Just drop it please.” Your voice had gone soft, tired of defending yourself.

“Y/n just tell me, I’ll help.” He urged.

You stayed quiet.

“What’s wrong?” He asked again, adamant to get an answer.

You felt yourself grow annoyed, why couldn’t he just let it go? Why was he suddenly interested in how you felt? You were just trying to protect what little left the two of you had and he seemed intent on destroying it.

“It’s you.”

He looked taken aback, eyes pooling with hurt and confusion, his body slightly deflating, “W-what?”

The moment was interrupted when the announcer took over the stage, beginning the presentation for the night, highlighting a few key players and matches.

You looked away first, turning to face the stage, clapping along, acting as though you couldn’t feel Gavi’s gaze burning into your back as he desperately tried to get your attention.

Once the presentation was over you were quick to excuse yourself, using the pretense of going to get a drink as a getaway.

You held your breath as you walked, praying Gavi wouldn’t follow you, and while he got up immediately once he noticed, he was quickly interrupted by another player coming to congratulate him, allowing you to slip away while he watched helplessly.

You let out a huff, leaning against the bar trying to slow your heartbeat.

“Long day?”

You looked over to see Joao standing next to you, watching as the bartender poured his drink.

“Something like that.”

He nodded, “Me too. Been a long couple of days actually.”

You smiled, “Actually, it’s been a long couple of weeks.”

He turned his head to look at you, “I take it back. It’s actually been a long couple of months.”

You raised your hand in mock surrender, “Ok I can’t beat that.”

He grinned, “Yeah not many people can.”

Your expression matched his own, and you gave your order to the bartender before turning to face him again, “So how’s the season been?”

“Shit. Honestly, I’m not even sure why I’m here I played for Chelsea this season not Athletico.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his abruptness.

“Yeah, I saw your first game. A red card first match is pretty brutal.”

His grin only widened, “Oh keeping tabs are we?”

You gave him a playful glare, “Of course gotta know how Barca’s competition is doing.”

“Oh, so you’re a Barca girl?”

“Since the day I was born.” You revealed proudly.

And it was true, even before you had met Gavi, you had loved Barcelona. Growing up in a family of football lovers, your family had declared FC Barcelona as their home club, and you had witnessed so many legends play for Barcelona and so many underdogs find their true passion at the club.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he asked, and you gave him a nod of encouragement, pretending to zip your lips shut making him smile, “Ok well it’s always been my dream to play for Barcelona. Messi was always an idol to me.” He confessed.

Your mouth dropped open in shock before you abruptly shut it, your eyes almost widening comically as you spoke excitedly, “What oh my gosh. I’m in shock. Messi? But you play with Ronaldo!” You gasped.

He laughed at your facial expression, as he whispered, “I know! That’s why it’s a secret.”

You nodded along with his words, sending him a duh expression, “Of course, I won’t say anything I promise.”

“Promise what?”

Gavi had appeared by your side, a firm hand set on your waist, as he gently tugged you back into his body.

You peeked up at Gavi to see he was already looking down at you, jaw set. You gulped.

“Nothing much, just talking about the season.” You replied.

You saw Gavi’s eyes flicker between the two of you before he brought you closer, “Can we please talk?”

You bit your lip unsure but nodded.

He slipped his hand into yours as he led you to a quieter area. You waved goodbye to Joao as Gavi pulled you through the crowd, and he held his drink up in response.

He was a nice guy. You hoped next season would be better for him than the last.

He guided you to a standing table and propped your hands on the table as he played with the ring on your index finger.

“This a really pretty ring, is it new?” He asked eyes focused on your fingers.

“No, I got it last month.”

“I haven’t seen you wear it.”

“I’ve worn it every day since I got it.”

“Oh.”

You gently removed your hand from his, knowing that talking circles about something so small was going to get you nowhere.

“What do you want Gavi?” You asked quietly.

His voice came out gravelly, “I want to know how I let it get to the point where you feel more comfortable calling me Gavi rather than Pablo.”

His words when straight to your heart, and you could feel his pain almost as much as you could feel your own.

“I-I don’t know.”

You heard his breath falter, “I miss you calling me Pablo. Hell – I even miss you calling me Pablito. I’d take anything over whatever this is.” He gestured pointing between the two of you.

“Ok then let’s talk about it. Let’s talk about where it went wrong.”

His eyes lifted at your words, “Why are you speaking in the past tense?”

You remained silent.

“Amor please, why are you speaking in past tense?” You could hear the panic building in his voice.

“I think we don’t spend enough time together.”

“Ok we can fix that. No problem.” He agreed, desperate to save what was slowly unraveling.

“But do you want to? Fix it I mean?”

“Of course, I do. Please just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” His voice was almost near begging, and you knew without a doubt that you were in a similar state.

You couldn’t believe that this was happening here, in front of all these people, but it wasn’t fair to either of you to hold it any longer. You had to have this conversation sooner or later and it seemed like tonight was the time for it.

“Sometimes I feel like you don’t have time for me.” You finally admitted what you had been feeling for the last month.

He shook his head rapidly, “I do! But I mean we both have such busy schedules, you have even less time than I do with school.” he argued, “You also have work so that cuts down on the time we have too, but I’m not complaining.”

You were trembling with anger as you spoke, but you kept your voice low, “Yes, because I have to work a job to be able to afford college. I hate the hours probably more than you do, but I do it because I have to. I don’t have an option. I want to go to school? I have to fund it. But you? You didn’t have to go out with the guys after practice or stay around Ansu’s to play FIFA, but you did. That was a choice you made.”

He opened his mouth to retaliate but you weren’t done, “And I’m not even mad about that. I’m mad that for the last month, you’ve put me below every other person in your life, treated me like I’m dispensable, someone who you only consider when you need something. I feel cheap. Like something you only want when it’s convenient to you.”

“That’s not true. You’re my girlfriend!” His voice shook as he spoke, and you realized he was probably just as scared as you were.

“Then why do I feel like I’m not?” Your voice came out soft, barely above a whisper, but it felt like delivering the final blow to an already sinking battleship.

You felt his eyes on you, eyes glazing over as hundreds of unushered words filled the space between you, but the moment was cut short, and you had to remind yourself that you were in public as Xavi approached the two of you.

You gave Xavi a quick hug before he congratulated Gavi on a great season.

Gavi only nodded, murmuring short responses, eyes glancing at you every few seconds like he was scared you would disappear from his life if he wasn’t watching.

He left after a moment, and then the two of you were alone again.

“I’m sorry Y/n, I had no idea that’s why you were working. I would’ve given you the money if you just said something-“

“I don’t want your money Gavi! It’s yours, not mine.” You said exasperated.

“C’mon Y/n you know I have enough to provide for the both of us. You don’t have to work-“

“I don’t want that! In fact, right now I don’t even want to be in this relationship!”

The boy physically shrunk back at your words, your admission sending him into silence as he processed your words.

Finally, he spoke, head shaking in denial, not wanting to admit what was right in front of him, “I-I don’t understand.”

You wanted to yell at him to notice all the signs you’d been sending him, beg him to understand the things you couldn’t say but had always been lurking in the shadows, easy enough to make out if you just paid attention. You wanted to scream that it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair that Gavi got to pursue his passion while you were being told to give up yours. Your head was filled with millions of things you wanted to say to him, thousands of little moments you wanted to share with him, you wanted to confide in him about how scared you were, how you had never felt like this in your life, how the thought of him slowly falling out of love with you was ripping your insides apart, making you sick to your stomach. There were so many things but not one left your mouth.

“I know you don’t.” Your voice sounded tired, even to your own ears, and you wondered if this was it. If this is where the two of you parted ways.

“I-I’m just going to go home.”

“I’ll grab our coats.”

You placed your hand gently on his, giving him a sad smile, “It’s ok. I think I’ll go alone.”

Neither of you could deny what it meant.

He ducked his head so you couldn’t see his red eyes. There was a moment of silence, and you could tell he was fighting with himself, trying to figure out what to do to stop the inevitable, until he slowly nodded,

“Ok.”

He had just sealed your relationship closed, something you were grateful for because you knew you couldn’t have done it yourself.

He didn’t lift his head as you walked away, and you didn’t blame him.

You grabbed your coat quickly, bidding goodbye to a few people as you made your way out of the hall.

As you walked down the hallway towards the main doors you realized you didn’t have a ride back. Your roommate had dropped you off and you assumed Gavi would drop you back. Well, that wasn’t happening now. Train it was. One glance out the window told you it was raining, downpouring to be exact.

How fitting. At least the weather matched your mood.

You stepped outside, immediately becoming drenched, but somehow you found comfort in it, at least this way no one could see you cry.

You were about halfway down the steps when you heard the door slam open, yelling coming from behind you.

You spun around, surprised to see Gavi stepping into the rain, “Please stay. Please.”

You stood frozen, unsure of what to say.

You were sure he wouldn’t follow you. But he had.

He kept taking steps closer to you, closing the distance, till you were only two steps apart, “Stay.”

His eyes searched your own, looking for something, maybe a sign that there was hope, something you weren’t sure you could provide.

“Just let me go. We can talk about this tomorrow.”

He shook his head, breath unsteady, “No I can’t. I can’t. I feel like if I let you go now, I’ll never see you again.”

You bit your cheek looking away, he was right. After tonight you had no intention of talking to him again.

His shoulders drooped at your silence, and he sat down on the steps of the building, harsh rain pounding down on him, matting his hair and drenching his extremely expensive suit, but he didn’t seem to care, “I hate fighting with you.”

You glanced down at his figure, watching him sit in the rain with his head in his hands, utterly defenseless.

“But I hate even more that it’s my fault, and that I couldn’t see what I was doing until I felt what you did, just for a second, and it hurt like hell.”

“I should have been there for you. I should have made time for you. I knew what I was doing wasn’t right but then I kept thinking it’s fine I’ll make it up to her next time, but next time never happened because I never showed up. I guess I was just so focused on making sure my teammates all liked me, and they had just stopped treating me like a kid, finally inviting me places - and I’m not using that as an excuse because I know it’s a shit one, it’s on me. Nobody forced me to do anything, I just wanted to feel included, and I put everyone else’s feelings above yours when yours was the one that was the most important to me.”

He finally lifted his head, and he was close enough that you could see the tears streaming down his face as he looked intently at you, almost like he was trying to memorize you, “If you want to walk away you can, you should - I’ll understand. I just wanted to apologize, really apologize, and own up to everything I did. I love you, and I promise you I won’t take anyone for granted the way I did with you.”

Your expression mirrored his own, and the tears were falling freely at his confession now that it was just the two of you. All the things you had wanted him to realize he had. All the things you wished he had said, he finally did.

But was it too late?

“Thank you, Pablo.”

He let out a short laugh through his tears, “No, thank you.”

You gave him a soft smile before you put distance between the two of you, letting the rain mask the sound of you leaving.

The lights from the venue grew dimmer as you continued walking, and you spared one last glance over your shoulder before it disappeared from view, seeing Gavi’s tiny figure rooted in place, watching you leave.

Your steps faltered.

How could you leave this relationship, this boy, when every single warning sign was going off in your brain, telling you to turn around and fight, to not give up? He had understood, he had understood exactly what you had felt, and had owned up to his mistakes, what else could he have done? He couldn’t go back and make it better, but he could change the way he treated you, but how would you acknowledge the change if you didn’t stick around?

It didn’t feel right walking away.

You thought you would feel content, feel like the pressure was lifting from your shoulders, but the dropping feeling in your stomach was multiplying, and your heart was constricting painfully at the thought of never seeing him, never laughing with him, never kissing him again, at the idea of falling in love with someone that wasn’t him.

You never ran faster in your life.

Let him be there. Please let him be there.

You didn’t know how you could explain yourself if you had to walk back into the event sopping wet, eyes puffy, and nose runny.

You couldn’t stop the wide smile that stretched across your face as he realized he was right where you left him.

You sat next to him and he didn’t notice until you spoke.

“Pablo.”

His head shot upon hearing your voice, and his face lifted for a second before falling again, “Di-Did you forget something?”

You nodded.

“Ok I can get it for you, what is it?” He cleared his throat, trying to make his voice clear.

You shifted closer to him, bodies pressed against each other, “I forgot that I love you. I love you and I want to work this out. I’m happy that you took responsibility and I believe you. I believe that you won’t do it again. But I should apologize too – I also wasn’t fair to you, and I did things that I shouldn’t have just to get back at you for making me feel so small.”

“I’m sorr-”

You cut him off, “Let’s stop apologizing.”

He nodded, eyes looking at you with nothing but love and admiration,

“Ok but we’ll have to work on our communication.” He said, and you hummed in agreement.

You touched your forehead with his, staring at each other with baited breaths until he finally closed the distance and kissed you. After a month of not seeing each other, you were finally kissing, pouring all your emotions, all your love, all your pain into the kiss, making a promise to be there for each other, and it felt like coming home.

alternate ending

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